#because of everything else happening at the same time (moving out of my childhood home. 1st job. etc.)

[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

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

genre: explicit smut, minors dni, childhood bestfriends to lovers, tlou'verse, jackson era, mild hurt/comfort

word count: 4.9k

summary: When your boyfriend is desperate to win back what he lost, he bets on you this time without your knowledge. And everyone knows you don't go back on your word when it comes to Joel Miller.

warnings: okay so technically not cheating because your boyfriend literally gambled you buuut if that's not your thing I totally get it, piv, dirty talk, choking, spitting, size kink, soft!joel & feral!joel, he likes hearing how big he is, affectionate whore calling™, a hint of analplay, oral (receiving and giving)

a/n: another joel fic inspired by p.orn, we love to see it

a special thank you to @nothoughtsjustmeds for the beta! 💕

Joel was never that into gambling. 

Back before everything had gone to shit, that had always been more Tommy’s forte than his own. Joel doesn’t remember the amount of times he’d had to bail his brother out, either by protecting him while putting himself in the middle or by giving him loans he’d never ever see again. Joel hadn’t minded. Tommy was his baby brother after all. As long as he was safe Joel was happy—annoyed, for sure, but happy. 

He was surprised when he learned that Jackson had a pretty heavy gambling scene and that Tommy wasn’t a part of it. He didn’t know why that was, because even on the nights where he had to go bail him out and bring him home all bloodied and bruised, Tommy just made the same mistakes. Not even Sarah’s worried expression, while she peered from between the wooden stair railing, deterred him from it. 

Guess it was different when your own kid was on the way. 

However, despite his lack of interest in gambling, he found himself betting away what little he had for someone else—someone he thought he would never see again. But honestly, he wasn’t half bad at it so he didn’t mind it that much. His only complaint was when he had to get messy hunting down those who didn’t pay up. 

One by one the men around the table folded, only leaving Joel and Liam. A huge stack of weaponry lies in the middle of the table, Liam’s eyes constantly flit between the stack and Joel. They stare at each other long and hard. Joel knows that he’s going to win. He usually did with these face-offs. 

Liam folds. 

A small smile tugs at the corner of Joel’s lips. There’s nothing better than to take what someone he absolutely detests wants. 

“Let’s go again,” Liam grunts, his forehead shining with sweat. 

Joel raises an eyebrow, “You don’t have anythin’ else to bet on.” 

“Come on now, Miller,” Liam leans back into his chair. “There must be something that you want.” 

Joel’s eyes bore into his long enough for the man to grow uncomfortable and nervous. Only then did he speak. 

“You still have that pretty girlfriend?” 

Someone Joel didn’t bother learning the name of pipes up from his right, “I thought we were only betting huntin’ supplies this time.” 

“Come on, let the man try to win his rifle back.” Joel grins. 

“Fuck you, Miller.” 

“Careful now,” he slowly places his elbows on the old table, his weight on it enough to let out a threatening creak. He cocks his head to the side, his smile small but still there. “My kindness wears thin.” 

Liam’s an addict. And of course, he says yes. 

“You fucking gambled me away?!” your voice is shaking, body trembling all over as you pace back and forth in front of the couch Liam was nestled on top of. At least he has the decency to look guilty. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Liam? I’m your girlfriend, not some kind of deer hide you can put on the table.” 

“Look I said I was sorry alright?” He stands up fast enough to make you flinch. He holds you by the shoulders, thumbs moving in a soothing manner. “Won’t happen again, I promise.” 

You scoff, “We both know that’s a lie.” You lift your chin up in defiance. “I won’t do it. I have free will. You can’t make me.” 

That makes Liam sweat. You can’t blame him, you’ve heard of Joel’s. . . outbursts. But honestly, that’s the least of your worries. You’re mostly confused as to why Joel asked for you specifically. You’re positive that he’d been avoiding you ever since he came into Jackson, only talking to you a handful of times. Why now? And why like this?

“Baby,” Liam whines, snapping you away from your thoughts. “You have to. He’s crazy, he’ll kill me.” 

“You should’ve thought of that before.” 

“Please. All you’d have to do is entertain him for the night, make him happy.” 

“So to be his plaything? Is that what you want?” 

“Maybe he’ll ask you to cook him dinner, hell if I know.” 

“Sure,” you roll your eyes. “I’m sure he’ll just want something to eat.” 

You give him one more look before slipping away from his gentle hold. Your heartbeat is slow, hours spreading across every beat, making your chest feel heavy and lightheaded.

“Fine,” you cave, wrapping yourself with your shaking arms. “But after this, I’m done, Liam. I’m so tired of bailing you out.” 

“You can’t leave, where would you go?” 

The soft tone he used while begging you to spread your legs for Joel quickly turns into a tone with sharp, dagger-like edges. You don’t say anything. Don’t answer him or agree with him. You’re lost in a broken world. 

And now, amongst all the things you’ve been through, you have to see the pity in your childhood best friend’s eyes. 

You don’t want to be here. You don’t. It’s embarrassing. 

Your boyfriend is in the other room, brooding on his couch, examining his life choices. You’re not doing any better. Your robe loose over your shoulders, the chill of the bedroom settling over your skin. It’s especially embarrassing because it’s Joel for crying out loud. You’ve known each other since you were kids causing mischief all around the neighborhood. You still remember the time you fell and scraped your knee, how he kissed it better and placed a pink bandaid over it because it was your favorite color. 

Why the hell had he asked for you? To humiliate you? Well, he definitely succeeded. 

The door opens and you jolt. His presence is large in the room, making you shudder despite yourself. Your pulse quickens. You shouldn’t be afraid of him yet here you are, trembling like a newborn doe. He closes the door with a gentle click, the wood creaking and solidifying your fate. 

You haven’t known him for years. Even before the outbreak had torn the world apart. You had moved away two years prior and after everything went down you never expected to see him again. When he showed up in Jackson you barely recognized him. He looked rugged, more salt than pepper in his beard, his eyes drained of life. He had scars that ran deep and he had found a kid along the way. You were surprised but relieved to see he still had a big heart. 

You were ashamed the first time you two sat down after years. Everyone knew of Liam’s gambling problem, he couldn’t help it, and you knew that Joel knew. You hated the idea of him pitying you, of him seeing the world weighing down on you. You’ve heard from around that Joel also started to place bets. Nothing too big though, unlike your boyfriend who would bet on almost anything in the house. You knew those bets could turn out violent and people feared Joel. Even in a safe utopia like Jackson, the kind of man he’d become traveled from ear to ear, striking fear. And when someone that owed him money ended up with a bloody nose and broken jaw. . . no one dared to deny him of anything. 

And it seemed like you were no exception. 

Joel stands in front of you, his sleeves pulled up to his elbows, exposing sinewy muscle. He stands close. Close enough that you feel his breath on your lips. Your eyelids flutter before you avert them, tears stinging the corners. 

You drop the robe, the old fabric pooling at your ankles. You’re left in a decent enough-looking bra and somewhat matching underwear. 

“Not interested,” Your entire body goes taut, eyes wide. You hear the blood rush in your ears. Joel moves past you and takes a seat on the bed, crossing his arms over the expanse of his broad chest. You stare at him and a thick knot forms in your throat. He gives you a brief look before explaining. “I only wanted to teach your boyfriend a lesson. He’s reckless. One of these days he’s gonna be in real debt to me and, darlin’, I don’t want you gettin’ caught in the middle.” 

Your heart drops. You don’t know what you’ve been expecting but it certainly isn’t this. Tears blurring your vision, you quickly bend over and scoop up your robe, throwing it over your shoulders. Somewhere along memory lane, you forgot to remind yourself that Joel was your first; first crush, first love, first kiss, first time. But it just hadn’t worked out. You had stayed close friends until you moved away, he had Sarah, you had a promising career. You were planning on getting back to him. It just never came to be. Liam didn’t know you knew Joel, only Tommy knew about the connection you two had, mainly because he was there. 

And now you had Liam—Boyfriend who calls you names because he hates everything, Liam. Shitty boyfriend, Liam. Boyfriend who put you up as a prize, Liam. 

It’s just too much. All of it. Your heart can’t handle how unfair it all is. The pity Joel shows you, the way Liam treats you. He loves you, you know that much, but he just doesn’t care enough to treat you right or tend to you when he’s so broken himself. He doesn’t understand that you would take care of him just as much. 

And now you’re just a shell. A shell of your former self. 

The first salty tear slips from your lashes, it’s followed by another and then another. 

You manage to reach the end of the bed on shaky legs, collapsing, you cover your face, heaving silently into your palms. You don’t want Liam to hear you cry, deep down you want him to think Joel is fucking you this very instant. You want him to feel guilt, or at least a sliver of the way you feel. 

There’s a gentle hand on your shoulder. Your brain doesn’t even register that Joel is pulling you into his chest, wrapping solid arms around your shaking frame. He holds the back of your neck, squeezing tenderly just like he did when your mom yelled at you and he wanted to calm you down. 

“Why are you cryin’?” he mumbles. “I told you I’m not gonna do anythin’ to you. Or to him. I just wanted him to think before he put you in any danger. What if it wasn’t me there? Not everyone is as they seem in this town.” 

After all this time Joel Miller is still looking out for you. 

“It’s not that,” you answer, between sniffled and muffled hiccups. “I’m embarrassed and so fucking tired. I don’t want you thinking I’m some damsel in distress, even though me crying isn’t really helping,” you take a deep breath and peel yourself unwillingly from his chest. “I don’t feel good about myself. I never do with him. I just feel like shit with some more shit thrown over. And well. . . now I know that you don’t want me either. It’s just too much. But I’ll be okay, thank you for looking out after me even though I’m a mess.” 

He suddenly grips your chin and pulls you close enough that your noses almost touch, “What the hell makes you think that I don’t want you?” 

“You. . .” with a sigh, you look away. “You didn’t want to fuck me.” 

“You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?”

Squeezing your chin, he forces your gaze back to him. His lips are parted, pupils wide enough to hide the chocolate brown of his eyes. He seems just as surprised as you feel. Arousal pools between your legs, heat dripping down the curve of your spine. You press your thighs together and swallow. 

Joel’s hand moves up to your cheek and cups it gently, thumb toying with the corner of your lip, “I just never thought you’d be interested if I’m bein’ honest. Especially not after. . . everything I’ve done.” 

“You’ve done what you’ve had to do to survive,” you kiss the curve of his palm and he shifts, coming even closer. “I always wanted to come back to you, you know? You’re my first love, Joel Miller. Deep down I always wanted you to be the last.” 

Joel was never an emotional guy. He always had trouble expressing what he thought and felt, thinking he always had to hide behind large invisible walls. The outbreak had put a magnifying glass over that quality of his. You can only tell that your words affected him by how the crease between his brows softens and his cheeks gain a subtle red hue. 

He only grunts as he forcefully brings your hand to his crotch, his cock hard and throbbing under your palm. His lips skim down your neck, kissing where your pulse beats frantically. Joel grinds into your palm, “You still want to fuck with your boyfriend waiting in the living room?” 

“God, yes.” 

You stand up and he parts his legs for you, allowing you to take your rightful place between them. Looking up, his fingers dance up your shoulders, pushing off the robe so it once again pools at your feet. The fabric of your bra has worn away with time, meaning that your nipples meet no resistance as they stiffen under his gaze. Joel licks his lips and brings both thumbs to the peaks, rubbing them until they’re fully hard. 

Then he suddenly shoves you closer to him, your aching nipple met with his wanting mouth. He sucks through the fabric. Saliva darkens the color. He sucks and moans each individual nipple until both are hard like diamonds and only then do you find yourself on the bed, his mouth still on you, starving for more. Your back forms the perfect arch, the sheets feeling like silk against your skin despite them being years old—almost rotten.

He drags his lips down your body, rough facial hair tickling your skin, your hips helplessly stutters into the air. Two large hands pin your hips down. You can’t help the noises that tumble from your lips. For the first time, you’re feeling whole. He lays soft kisses against your inner thighs and finally, he reaches where you want him most. 

Joel sucks your clit through the fabric and your body jerks, seeking the heat of his mouth against your bare cunt instead. He smiles, digging his blunt nails into your flesh. 

“Patience,” he licks a stripe down your clothed folds. “I want you to be loud, sweetheart. Make noise for me. If you want me to fuck you, that’s my price—your sounds.” 

Liam never liked the sounds you made. Unless you were mimicking porn and whispering how close you were, which was a very rare occasion. 

Joel slides his hands up to the softness of your stomach, squeezing gently. Like you might fade away at any given second. He kisses the lips of your pussy and his eyes flutter closed. 

“Doesn’t it feel good,” he begins, his southern drawl more prominent as his voice grows deeper. “To have that prick in the next room listenin’ to me fuck you, riddled with guilt because he bet on his pretty girlfriend?” 

It does feel good. “You think I’m pretty?” 

“‘Course I do,” his brows furrow, eyes finding yours. “Prettiest girl I’ve known since the first day my dick got hard.” 

The words send a tingle up your spine but Joel doesn’t allow you to linger on them for long. He slides your underwear to the side. The fabric sticky with slick, he immediately presses his lips deep into your cunt, tongue swirling around your entrance and teasing it by pushing in the tip. You cry out and grip his head, your legs pressing against his ears. Your heart hammers within the confinements of your ribcage. 

“Gonna ruin you,” he groans, licking himself deeper and rutting the bed. Your eyes roll back, your body melting with every fat stroke of his tongue. 

Joel takes you apart slowly. His jaw moves, head lazily going from left to right. You feel so wet, soaked, from both his mouth and your slick. It’s almost like he goes slower the more soaked you are. He draws various shapes around your throbbing clit. You're left withering under him, shaking, begging, and moaning his name loud enough that the entirety of Jackson could probably hear. The wet smack of his mouth is followed by loud slurps and groans, and your stomach coils tight. 

After all these years, Joel Miller had certainly learned a few new tricks. He wasn’t that same teenager anymore, though, neither were you. He feels different, yet he also feels the same. Like a familiar wind stroking your skin. 

“So damn wet and sweet like honey, fuck.” 

He moves away and you nearly cry out of frustration, fingers burrowing into the old sheets. You only move when you hear the deafening sound of a belt buckle coming loose. Joel’s pants drop to his ankles, cock painfully hard and slightly curving to the side. Your mouth waters, “No underwear?” 

“Got too lazy to wash’em last Sunday,” he lazily strokes himself. Today is Tuesday. He’s been going commando all this time. More saliva fills your mouth, you don’t know why but the thought excites you and he seems to notice. “You always did get turned on by the weirdest things,” he mutters. “Now get on your knees, sweetheart. Been waitin’ a long time to feel those lips again.” 

You pout, “Forearms are sexy, ask anyone.”

Joel sighs and shakes his head, his dark gaze makes you clench around nothing. He ignores your comment entirely.  “Don’t make me say it again.” 

You sink to your knees immediately after that. 

He’s so much thicker than you remember. The bulbous head a beautiful shade of red, shiny beads of precome gathered at the slit. You notice the vein meandering down the underside of his cock and you trace it with the tip of your tongue. The blood pumps harder in response, his length twitches and smears the shiny pearls against your cheek. 

You moan as you finally take him between your lips. The corners of your mouth sting from how wide you need to open to accommodate him. You manage to take him half way in, swirling your tongue, you hollow out your cheeks. 

“That’s it—That’s it, fuck—suck me harder, sweetheart, please—” his hips rock forward, his cock filling your mouth until the head is hitting the back of your throat. You choke on him and his head falls at the way your throat constricts around the width of him. He then pulls out, prompting you to look up. His hair is a mess, lips swollen and parted. “Use your spit, need you to wet my cock good if you want me to fit darlin’. I ain’t that teenager anymore.” 

You kiss the soft crease between his balls, rolling them with your tongue. You’re delighted to witness how he shudders at the soft caress of your lips, “I can see that.” 

“Get on with it then.” 

Joel sounds almost annoyed—no, not annoyed, but eager, desperate—to have your mouth wrapped around him with Liam in the other room. You don’t want to make him wait so you slowly allow a thin line of saliva to drip from between your lips. His thighs tense when it touches the head of his cock. 

“Is his dick as big as mine?” he asks, jaw locked, words bouncing off of clenched teeth. 

“No,” you gasp, dragging your lips down the length of him while staring at him through heavy lashes. “No, it’s not as big as yours.”

Suddenly you’re lifted to your feet, your body nothing but a ragdoll as he pushes you to the bed, the old mattress creaking with protest at the added weight.  

“Play with that fuckin’ pussy for me, I want to see it.” He wraps a hand around his weeping cock, his strokes hard and calculated. Your breasts tingle as you push a hand between your thighs, he clicks his tongue in disapproval, approaching the end of the bed. “Spread your legs wide, honey.” 

As soon as you open your legs and spread your folds for him to see how soaked you are, he’s quick to climb up the bed. Turning you to your side, he gets right behind you. Joel wets his own fingers, sucking on them with a loud groan before replacing yours with his own. He rubs your clit with precise movements, each stroke hitting the mark and making you see bright, dazzling stars. Your body moves on its own. Heat pools between your legs, your hips grinding back to feel the heft of him on your ass. 

“Joel, please,” you whimper. “Please, fuck me, please—” 

His lips touch your cheek and he breathes heavily, his chest heaving and rattling with every exhale. You feel the head of his cock slowly sinking into you, stretching you wide as his lips decorate your sweaty skin with fleeting kisses. 

“You’re takin’ me so fuckin’ well, honey,” your eyes roll back, a mild pain blossoming from where you two connect. He brushes his fingers over your clit, the sharp pleasure shortening your breath. “That’s it. That’s my girl takin’ my big cock so well. So good. So good for me.” 

Your jaw drops as you take him inch by inch. He continuously plays with your clit, kissing you and whispering words of praise while his tongue plays with your earlobe. You feel like mush. Like dough that only he can mold. Your lashes grow wet with tears, your heart beating so wild that you swear he can hear it as well. Joel slightly pulls back his hips and pushes back in, your breath catches in your throat, and soon enough he begins fucking you with shallow thrusts. 

“Is this what you wanted, huh?” he mutters into your ear. You nod helplessly, your body burning from the inside out. “Tell me, louder, come on,” a smack echoes in the small room, and pain blossoms over your ass cheek. “Come on, louder.” 

“Yes!” you cry out. In a weak attempt to meet his thrusts, you roll your hips. “Yes, this is what I wanted. I’ve never stopped thinking about it—never stopped thinking about you.” 

“Is this pussy mine?” 

“Yes, it’s fucking yours.” 

Your voice must’ve come out too much like a whisper because Joel’s pace quickens. He fucks you hard, deep, hammering into you until you’re struggling for air. He wraps thick fingers around your neck, squeezing until there’s pressure building under your eyes, your lungs burning. 

He loosens his grip around your throat, “I wanna hear it, come on now, don’t make me beg for it. Tell me, is it mine?” 

“Yours! It’s fucking yours!” 

Suddenly Joel is underneath you and you’re on top, his hips relentless as he snaps his hips up into you. It feels even better now. The way his cock massages your walls shooting crackles of electricity up your spine. He holds your ass with both hands and spreads you for his liking. 

You moan his name and when you look down, seeing him staring at your face, a sudden gush of embarrassment overwhelms you and with a small whimper, you cover his eyes with both your hands. Joel grits his teeth at that. He fucks you harder, the vicious way he presses inside making you gasp and drop your hands so you can brace yourself by flattening your palms over his chest. His eyes flash with anger. 

“Why the fuck—” he growls, “would you cover my eyes?” 

“I–I got embarrassed—” you squeeze your eyes shut and open them back again. You push down your hips, taking him to the hilt as a form of apology, but he doesn’t seem to accept it and holds you still. Your head falls back with his every thrust. 

“If you ever pull that stunt again, I’ll take you over my knee,” he rasps, ignoring the way your pussy clenches at his words. 

His finger teases your asshole and beads of sweat gather at your tailbone. Joel’s grin is dangerous, something you’d run away from rather than run towards. But you can’t help it. A wanton moan rattles your throat, your pussy clenching hard around his cock. He presses forward, burying his finger down to the first knuckle. You shudder over and over, your body building tension and releasing it simultaneously. 

“You like that, wildflower?” he groans, thrusting his finger in and out while snapping his hips up. “You enjoy it when I play with your tight little asshole?” 

“Fuck, fuck—Joel—yes, yes I do.” 

His other hand snakes around the back of your neck and yanks you down. His damp lips touch your ear, “Gonna fuck this hole one day, pretty thing. . . gonna fuck it so hard you’re not gonna be able to stand for weeks.” 

Before you can catch your breath, you’re being hauled towards the closed door, the emptiness you feel sudden and cold. He pulls your hips up, presses your cheek against the barely standing wood. Your hard nipples graze against the surface, a jolt of pleasure shooting up your spine. Again, Joel thrusts forward, filling you to the brim. The mild pain tingles within your lower abdomen and you melt against him, eyes rolling back as you wiggle your ass for him. 

With every rock of his hips, your body hits the door with a thud and you’re sure Liam can hear every forceful fuck, “Tell him how fuckin’ bigger I am than him—I wanna fuckin’ hear, it come on.” 

“He’s so much bigger than you!” you groan, bracing your palm against the door. “You hear me, Liam? Never had a bigger cock in my life, I’m soaked.” 

Liam’s muffled voice follows through, “Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell is wrong with you? You fucking whore!” 

You know it shouldn’t, but his words still jar you. 

“I’ll fuckin’ break his hands for that, don’t you worry darlin’,” Joel mutters into your skin, his words marking you as something untouchable. “And I’ll make it fuckin’ hurt.” He then kisses your shoulder and shouts towards the door, slamming especially hard this time so the thud of you hitting the door echoes. “You’re the one who gambled her like some kind of prize you dickhead. Don’t blame her for feelin’ good about it!” 

“You could never satisfy me,” you say barely above a whisper, like you’re not entirely sure you’re allowed to feel good about this. About finally having him all to yourself. 

“That’s it, tell him,” Joel growls, pushing his cock even deeper. You swear that if you looked down at your stomach, you’d see a bulge, as impossible as that sounds. “Tell him.” 

You desperately grab at Joel’s forearms, feeling the sinewy muscle tense. Your slick drips down his length and wets the inside of your thighs. With a loud moan you repeat your words and it feels delightful. 

You only smile when you hear the outer door close shut. Liam is gone. 

“Yes yes yes,” Joel murmurs into your neck, ramming into you harder. “That’s it, come on my cock, sweetheart, please—I wanna feel it—” 

Your breath catches in your throat, body seizing, “B—Bed,” you manage to choke out. 

If he pulled out, you’re not aware. His body is a constant presence against your back, lips always latched on to a patch of skin, tasting the salt. Joel lays you down gently and pushes your legs high enough that it grazes your forehead with every desperate snap of his hips. 

“Is this what you want?” he groans, the wet noises of him fucking into the tight fist of your cunt bouncing off the walls. 

“Yes, Joel— this is what I want.” 

“My whore,” he leans over and grinds into you. He slips his tongue into your mouth, sucks on your tongue. The back of your thighs ache with protest but you whimper into the kiss anyway. Breaking the kiss, Joel breathes into you, “My good sweet little whore,” and another kiss. 

Your eyes roll back, “So deep,” you groan, breaking the kiss. 

“Deeper deeper deeper,” Joel mocks you by mimicking your dazed tone with his drawl. He slowly pushes in, holding himself there, he halts your breath. “How’s that, wildflower? Deep enough for you?” 

“Oh god, Joel—” you choke. You fist the sheets, your cunt fluttering and throbbing. He doesn’t move, he flexes his cock and the pressure of that is enough to break you. 

Joel wasn’t expecting it, this much your muddled brain is able to realize from the shocked groan he lets out. His lips find purchase on your forehead, kissing and mumbling praise as your entire body clenches and releases, your pussy gushing around him. You feel the trickles of fresh wetness ripping out of you and all you can do is take it when Joel resumes his thrusts, fucking you through your messy orgasm. 

Despite your insistent begging of wanting him to come inside, Joel pulls out, coming undone instantly as he does so. He rubs himself over your mound, thick ropes of come spurting across your stomach and even the underside of your right breast. He releases your legs and they fall limply to his sides. 

Joel kisses you long and deep, his weight comforting above your trembling body. When he finally pulls away, he lets out a low chuckle and brushes your noses together. 

“I think he left, sweetheart.” 

“Good,” you mumble and press a quick kiss to his flushed lips. “All I want is you.” 

Liam’s not your boyfriend anymore. 

[kingofbodyrolls]

Till We Meet Again (m) | jjk

When your childhood friend that you had a crush on, moved away out of the blue— you never thought you’d see him again. A night swim in the ocean will have you feeling delusional, but the voice that fills your ears— sweet like cotton candy, you’d recognize that voice anywhere, it’s Jungkook.

→ Pairing: jungkook x reader (female) → AUs: mermaid!au, fantasy!au, magical!au → Trope: childhood friends to lovers → Genres: romcom, smut, nostalgia, and so much fluff → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 11.4k → Warnings (general) + triggers: Jungkook’s first time (he is not a virgin lol, but it’s his first time with a human, so), this one is actually pretty mild, bordering on vanilla. There’s talk about how merfolk do it 👀 This is just crack fantasy okay, please don’t take it seriously! There’s some small pov changes in here, because, well, it just happened, lol. → Warnings (explicit): protected sex, oral (both male and female), hair pulling, multiple orgasms, nipple play/sucking, a little bit of dirty talk, begging, pleasing. → Taglist: @allie-is-a-panda @jeonsbabygirlsworld → Read on AO3! → Author’s note: happy birthday to my sweet and lovely friend Lua (@letjungcoook7) 🥳 I wrote this story for you as a present. I know you’re not that much into fantasy, but when I told you about my mermaid ideas, you were excited 🤭 So this first one is for you bby ✨ I really hope you like it, also that everyone else does!

[s.masterlist] → this is part of a collection of series that are stand-alone one-shots, but all of them are set in the same universe. They are slightly connected though 🤭

The rain begins to pour as Jungkook grips your hand, his touch both delicate and powerful, guiding you through the sudden downpour. Moments ago, you were laughing and playing at the local playground, unaware that Mother Nature was about to drench the world in her unexpected shower.

Your heart pounds in your chest and echoes in your ears as you race to keep up with Jungkook, a wide smile spreading across your face. For an eight-year-old, he’s pretty damn fast, making every step feel like a thrilling challenge.

He’s sprinting down familiar streets, and you quickly realize he’s heading towards your home. You’ve never seen his house or met his parents, but your own parents adore Jungkook, joking that he’s your future husband. You’re not thinking that far ahead—you’re just a child, after all. Yet, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a fondness for him.

Let’s be honest, you have the biggest crush on the sweet boy with the round face and big doe eyes that seem too large for his tiny head. His nose is adorable, and his teeth only add to his charm. In short, you love everything about him, even his occasional unreasonable moments. But when he pouts, sticking out his bottom lip in that irresistibly cute way, your heart completely melts.

Your house comes into view, but instead of heading inside, he veers into your backyard, leading you towards the hidden playhouse nestled among the bushes and small trees.

“Shouldn’t we get inside where it’s dry?” you ask, bewilderment etched across your face as you finally reach the playhouse. He crouches down and gently pulls you inside, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“No, we’ll be safe here,” he assures you, sitting down with his legs tucked under him. He bites his lip softly, a hint of nervousness flickering in his eyes.

“We should go inside; I don’t want either of us to catch a cold,” you mumble, settling beside him and feeling the warmth of his body next to yours. Despite not feeling chilled yet, you know it’s risky to stay out in wet clothes. It’s autumn, and although the air still holds a lingering warmth, you’re aware that it won’t last long.

“Let’s just stay here for a moment, okay?” he pleads, his eyes wide and his signature pout in full effect. You find yourself unable to resist—after all, who could say no to that adorable face?

For a few minutes, you sit there side by side, listening to the sky weep as rain patters softly on the roof of the playhouse. A few droplets sneak inside, but it hardly matters.

Jungkook suddenly turns to you, his expression unreadable— sadness flickers across his features, his normally warm brown eyes darkening to near-black in the dim light. His smile vanishes, replaced by a somberness that seems to weigh heavily on him. You can’t help but wonder what has shifted, why he’s undergone this sudden transformation in demeanor.

“___. Promise me you’ll never forget me?” 

His eyes widen with earnestness, pleading like a puppy’s, and both of his hands seek yours, holding on as if afraid of being forgotten.

Emotions swirl in those hazel eyes, a tumultuous sea of feelings you struggle to decipher. You long to grasp his thoughts, to understand why he’s broaching the topic of forgetting him. But the idea is unfathomable to you; forgetting him seems as impossible as forgetting your own name.

Something shimmers in his eyes—what, you can’t quite discern. They resemble an ocean, deep and mysterious, where one could easily lose themselves if they stared for too long.

“Forget you? Kookie, what on earth are you talking about?” your eyes widen in disbelief, searching his face for any hint of understanding, but finding only confusion.

“It’s just... I like you a lot, and,” he murmurs, stumbling over his words, his hands fidgeting nervously with yours. Then, lifting his gaze to meet yours, he adds with a touch of vulnerability, “I’ll never forget you. You mean the world to me, ___. You’re my friend.”

With a warm smile and a gentle chuckle, you reply, “Duh, silly. Of course you’ll never forget me! And I’ll never forget you either. Now, can we please go inside?”

Jungkook smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes as it usually does, leaving a lingering unease in the pit of your stomach. It feels like a storm is brewing within you, mirroring the turbulent weather outside.

“Just promise me. We’ll never forget each other, no matter what,” he implores, his voice firm and unwavering, his eyes reflecting the solemnity of his words.

He clasps your hand with his own, seeking out your pinky finger. 

“Pinky promise?” he asks, his eyes earnest, holding onto your gaze with a mix of hope and determination.

Your eyes flicker with a rapid dance of confusion and amusement. Despite the chaos of the moment, a smile spreads across your face, its warmth seeming to dissolve his frown and alleviate his frazzled state.

“Okay. Pinky promise,” you affirm, intertwining your pinky finger with his, sealing the pact with a vow that feels as timeless as eternity.

You never laid eyes on Jungkook after that—well, you did both retreat indoors, your mother showering Jungkook with love and sweet treats he adored. But after that day, twenty long years ago, he vanished from your life out of the blue, leaving only memories behind.

Why you’re thinking about him now, you really don’t know. Yet, just as he once asked of you, you’ve never let go of his memory—a part of you still holds onto the hope that he might reappear, surprising you around some unsuspecting corner, as if he never left. But with each passing day, the likelihood of such serendipity grows fainter, like the receding tide of the deep blue ocean.

Maybe it’s the nostalgia stirred by your recent home purchase by the sea that brings back memories of your childhood crush. The vast expanse of the ocean triggers thoughts of his eyes—not because of their color, but the way they used to glimmer, reflecting the light with a sparkle that danced like sunbeams on water.

Long strolls on the beach prove therapeutic, gradually pushing thoughts of your childhood crush to the recesses of your mind. With each step along the sandy shores, you uncover treasures—seashells, smoothed by the relentless embrace of the waves, and other mementos of seaside serenity.

You truly love the beach, which is why you chose to buy a house so close to the shore. It’s not just because the ocean reminds you of a certain childhood friend you wish you could see again. His sudden departure has always baffled you—sometimes you wonder what really happened. 

Was he kidnapped, or did he simply leave without a word? 

Why would he vanish without telling you first, especially if he just had to move?

It’s after dinner, and you find yourself lounging on your terrace, gazing out at the ocean. The view is breathtaking, and when the wind blows just right, the salty breeze gently caresses your skin. You smile a wistful smile as you raise your glass to your lips. Today is a red wine day; despite the heat, the perfectly chilled glass complements the warmth of the evening air.

With your legs propped up on the lounge chair, reclined for maximum comfort, you gaze out at the vast expanse of the sea. You can’t help but wonder about the treasures and secrets it holds, a mysterious world teeming with countless species you’ve never even heard of that call it home.

Mankind has long tried to conquer the world beneath the waters, yet the pitch-black depths of the ocean remain largely unexplored, beyond the reach of even the best diving gear. Though you’re no diver, the allure of the sea’s hidden secrets captivates you, and you dream of one day uncovering its mysteries.

A sweet, velvety sound caresses your ears, prompting you to sit up and listen more closely. The enchanting melody wraps around you, and you realize it’s a voice—someone is singing.

God, it sounds beautiful—captivating, sweet, and strong, yet tinged with sorrow. The melody weaves its way into your soul, leaving you spellbound.

For a moment, you wonder if it’s all in your head—a fleeting hallucination brought on by too much wine. But a glance at your glass and the nearly full bottle beside you confirms you’ve barely finished your first glass.

The voice is real, and it carries an eerily familiar tone. Intrigued, you rise from your comfortable lounge chair and make your way down to the sandy beach that has been your backyard for the past few days.

Your bare feet sink into the warm, fine sand, its texture caressing your skin. You glance around, searching for the source of the beautiful voice, but the beach remains empty, with no one in sight.

There it is again—the singing, so achingly beautiful that it sends shivers down your spine and raises the hair on your arms. Your feet carry you along the shoreline, but despite your efforts, you can’t pinpoint the source of the enchanting voice.

Then, just as you’ve been pacing up and down the shoreline, the voice abruptly vanishes—quiet as a still puddle after a rain shower. With a strange unease settling in your gut, you reluctantly turn back toward home. The voice felt hauntingly familiar, yet somehow elusive—like a distant memory struggling to resurface.

For the past few days, the hauntingly beautiful voice has serenaded you night after night, drawing you out to the beach in search of its mysterious owner. Despite your efforts, luck eludes you, and each failed attempt leaves you with a sense of frustration, reminiscent of the pout Jungkook used to give you whenever you were being unreasonable with him.

Your frustration mounts as the elusive voice continues to evade you, its hauntingly familiar tone persistently tugging at the corners of your mind.

Frustration coursing through your veins, you slip into your bikini, determined to quell the restlessness with a night swim in your aquatic backyard.

As the sand caresses your feet, you stroll down to the shoreline under the watchful gaze of the moon, its ethereal glow casting a mesmerizing sheen upon the water. The scene is nothing short of magical, and as the lukewarm water embraces your skin, a delightful chill courses through your body—not from the cold, but from the familiar embrace of your second home. The ocean has always held a special place in your heart, and in this moment, it feels like a sanctuary away from the world.

Surrendering to the embrace of the water, you allow its gentle currents to envelop you, cradling you in its soft embrace as you yield to its rhythmic sway. With only your head above the surface, you venture further into the depths, relishing the sensation of weightlessness and freedom that comes with each stroke.

A soft, melodic sound tickles your ear—it’s that captivating voice again! This time, it resonates clearer, as if drawing you in closer. Driven by curiosity, you swim towards the source of the sound, your heart pounding with anticipation. As you approach a cluster of rocks and a looming cliffside, you spy a cave nestled within its embrace, beckoning you with its mysterious allure.

The cave envelops you in darkness, yet the gentle glow of the full moon dances upon the water, casting an ethereal light that transforms the rocky surface of the cliff into glistening crystals. The voice reverberates off the walls, its echoes amplifying its haunting melody. Drawing closer, you discern a figure resting their head upon a rock, their silhouette illuminated by the moon’s gentle caress.

Intrigued, you inch closer, your curiosity piqued. As you approach, you discern the figure of a man, likely around your age, or perhaps a bit younger, reclining against the stone, his body partially obscured by its shadowy embrace.

“Hello?” you call out, your voice echoing softly in the cave. Instantly, a pair of dark brown eyes fixate on yours, their intensity sending a shiver of recognition down your spine.

As you hear something splashing nearby, you swiftly swim to the corner of the cave. Pulling yourself up onto the rocky surface, you cast an inquisitive gaze at the stranger, who remains silent, their expression enigmatic.

“Are you okay?” you inquire, met with silence as the man attempts to retreat, concealing more of his body beneath the murky depths, leaving you to wonder what secrets lie hidden beneath the surface.

You approach cautiously, taking slow, measured steps, careful not to startle the man. His features are striking—sharp, chiseled jawline, eyes wide and intense, lips full yet thin, and a cute nose that triggers a flood of memories from long ago, memories that have never faded.

“Jungkook?” you gasp, the name escaping your lips like a sudden gust of wind, stirring a whirlwind of emotions within you—happiness and hurt colliding like waves crashing against the shore, overwhelming you in their tumultuous embrace.

The man cautiously peers over the rock, his bare torso partially shielded from view. The sight of him shirtless prompts a flurry of questions in your mind—why is he here, and why is he without a shirt?

Is that a sleeve of tattoos on his right arm?

You can’t help but notice the strength in his neck, the prominent veins tracing a path down to his defined clavicle and broad shoulders. Damn it you really shouldn’t, but you find yourself shamelessly admiring his physique, a flush of embarrassment creeping up your cheeks.

“___?” His voice breaks the silence, light and airy, reminiscent of a summer breeze whispering through the leaves.

“Is it really you?” you inquire, lowering yourself to sit in front of him, your gaze sweeping over his features once more. His face holds a striking resemblance to someone from your past, now matured with the passage of time. Yet, those deep, familiar ocean eyes leave no doubt—it’s unmistakably Jungkook.

“Yes, it’s me,” he confirms, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. The boyish charm of his smile clashes with the maturity reflected in his sharp features, creating a captivating contrast.

“What are you doing here?” you inquire, a mix of surprise and curiosity evident in your voice. The sight of him in this cave, serenading the darkness with his song, leaves you utterly bewildered.

“Just taking a breather,” he chuckles, his gaze shamelessly roaming over your form, sending a subtle shiver down your spine.

“Hold on a second,” you exclaim, frustration tinged with urgency in your voice as you scratch your head in bewilderment. “What brings you here? You vanished without a trace. What happened?”

Another splash in the water draws your attention, and you track the sound to behind Jungkook—then, you spot it: the tail. It’s a mesmerizing shade of purple, with delicate variations of violet shimmering in the moonlit cave. The translucent fins catch the light as they sway gracefully. The scales, rough and scaly, add to the otherworldly beauty of him.

Your jaw nearly hits the rocky surface—if it could, it surely would. You gaze, utterly transfixed, at the figure before you—your childhood friend, now revealed as a mermaid. No, a merman. The revelation leaves you reeling. How is this possible? You’ve heard of undiscovered species lurking beneath the waters, but this is your friend, someone you’ve known for years with two perfectly functional feet and no hint of a scaly tail.

“___,” he begins, his voice filled with warmth and genuine curiosity. “It’s been such a long time. How have you been?” His eyes radiate happiness, but you’re still reeling from the revelation before you. Seeing him again—something you’ve dreamt about for years—leaves you speechless.

“No,” you assert firmly, a rush of urgency in your tone. “You don’t get to ask questions yet. There are so many things I need answers to from you first.” Determined, you attempt to peer over the rock he’s perched on, desperate for a closer look at the astonishing sight before you—your childhood friend now bearing a tail, a reality that defies all logic.

“Alright, fire away,” he responds, a hint of amusement dancing in his voice. “But give me a moment to settle in.” With a graceful movement, he hoists himself out of the water, his biceps flexing as he perches on the rock, his tail lazily swaying in the water. Bathed in the soft glow of the cave, his majestic purple tail shimmers, leaving you in awe of his breathtaking beauty.

He seems big and broad shouldered, the tattoos look intricate, reflecting ancient scribbles and drawings on his arm.

You plop down on the rugged surface, your mind reeling with disbelief—it all feels like a surreal dream. Unable to resist, you extend your hand to touch him, as if to confirm his reality. Your index finger tentatively prods his cheek before trailing down to his chest. The moment your touch meets his pecs, you’re met with a jolt of realization—his muscles are firm, real, and undeniably tangible beneath your fingertips, sending a surge of heat through your veins as you inadvertently find yourself groping his impeccable chest.

“What are you doing?” he asks, his eyes darting from your hand on his chest back to your face. Embarrassment floods your cheeks with a deep crimson as the realization of your actions hits you. You’ve been feeling the solid warmth of his chest, lost in the surreal moment.

“Oh, God. I’m so sorry!” you blurt out, yanking your hand back as if it’s been scorched. “I didn’t mean to touch you like that!” Embarrassment floods through you, your heart racing as you pull away from the unexpected intimacy.

Damn it, get a grip, you chastise yourself silently. “I just wanted to make sure this is real,” you confess aloud, your voice trembling slightly with lingering disbelief.

You release a nervous chuckle, the sound betraying the disbelief still coursing through you. But as you take in the surreal sight before you—Jungkook, undeniably real and impossibly transformed—you can no longer deny the truth. Your childhood friend is here, right in front of you, and he is, astonishingly, a merman.

“Oh, this is very real,” he teases, his voice rich and layered with an enigmatic quality that you can’t quite decipher but are desperate to understand.

“Are you really a merman?” you ask, your gaze drifting back to his tail, mesmerized by its iridescent beauty. It’s breathtaking, almost otherworldly.

He nods, a soft smile playing on his lips, his eyes glimmering with a wistful nostalgia that tugs at your heartstrings.

“What happened to you? Why did you leave?” you demand, the urgency in your voice revealing the depth of your longing and confusion. These are the questions that have haunted you for years, the ones you swore you’d ask if you ever saw him again. Why did he disappear without a word, leaving you behind?

You watch as his expression shifts, becoming more guarded. “My parents and I had to move back home... to the ocean, I mean,” he explains, his face twitching as if struggling to mask an inner pain. “A rift in a tectonic plate devastated my village. Everything was destroyed, so we had to return and help rebuild.”

You study him closely, a lump forming in your throat as a myriad of emotions swirl within you.

“Okay. But why couldn’t you come back when you were done?” you inquire, your voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and hurt. It’s apparent that there are unresolved feelings of abandonment lingering within you, a reminder of the wounds you may need to address with your therapist.

“I really wanted to, but my parents and the village elders forbade it. We dedicated ourselves to rebuilding our village, but returning to the surface was strictly prohibited,” he explains, a palpable sadness tinting his words. It’s evident that he had yearned to reunite with you, but the weight of his responsibilities as a merman ultimately kept him bound to the depths of the ocean.

“Why are you here now? And are there others like you?” you inquire, a mix of bewilderment and intrigue coloring your tone. As you press for more information, you notice him visibly relax, his features softening once again in response to your curiosity.

“Well, I’ve been here for quite a while. I come up here to sing, often thinking of you, actually,” he confesses, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. “And yes, there are others like me,” he adds with a chuckle, the sound carrying a mixture of amusement and friendly banter.

“Thinking of me?” you stammer in amazement, your voice barely above a whisper as the weight of his words settles in.

“Yeah. I’ve missed you since I had to leave, and I’ve been searching for you for years. Meeting you again feels like a dream come true,” he confesses, his voice filled with palpable joy at the reunion with a long-lost friend. His words send a surge of warmth through you, igniting a flutter of emotions you thought long buried. As your heart skips a beat, you’re struck by the realization that the childhood crush you harbored for him still lingers, stronger than ever.

“I’ve missed you too,” you exhale, your voice barely above a whisper, heavy with emotion. With a gentle touch, you extend your hand, laying it atop his on the rough surface of the rock, a silent reassurance of your enduring bond.

“How come you’re a merman? You were just a boy last time I saw you…” you begin, not really knowing how to ask the question that you have swirling in your mind.

“You want to know if something happened to me, to make me like this,” he gestures with his other hand over his body— it’s well defined, muscles big and strong, “or if I’d always been a merman?” His words hang in the air, a poignant reminder of the mysteries surrounding his transformation.

You choke on air with how effortlessly he articulates your thoughts, a skill he’s always possessed. You nod in agreement, the intensity of your curiosity driving you to lean in closer, desperate to unravel the enigma of his transformation.

“I’ve always been a merman. My parents chose to live as humans— they’re merfolk too, by the way. But they wanted me to experience life on land. So, despite appearances, I’ve always been like this,” he explains, a smile gracing his lips as he playfully flips his tail in the water, sending ripples dancing in his wake.

“How… How do you transform?” you ask, studying him intently once more. Despite his remarkable change, he still retains that familiar essence, stirring up the remnants of the childhood crush you thought you’d outgrown. A flush of warmth creeps across your cheeks, betraying the intensity of your emotions.

“Well. When I’m out of water for an extended period, I assume my human form. And when I’m in contact with water, I revert to my merman form,” he explains, a soft smile gracing his lips. As his fingers intertwine with yours, his touch is tender, each stroke a gentle caress that ignites a spark of warmth within you.

You nod, absorbing his explanation, but then you gasp as his words sink in, a realization dawning on you. “Do you transform when it rains then?” you blurt out, the question bursting forth with newfound urgency and curiosity.

His laughter fills the air, rich and unrestrained, sending ripples of warmth through your chest. Your gaze instinctively drifts to his chest, where the rhythmic movement of his pectorals accompanies the melody of his mirth, a captivating display of joy that you can’t help but revel in.

“No. That wouldn’t be very practical. It has to be seawater, or simply prolonged exposure to water can also do the trick,” he explains, his tone laced with a hint of amusement at the notion of rain-induced transformations.

You nod in understanding once more. “Nothing about this is practical, Jungkook,” you remark, a hint of incredulity lacing your tone.

He chuckles again, withdrawing his hand from yours and gently cupping your cheek. His touch sends a surge of warmth coursing through you, like a dormant ember suddenly ignited into a flickering flame, ready to blaze anew.

He locks eyes with you, his gaze unwavering and intense, brimming with depths of emotion that beckon you to explore. It’s like peering into an uncharted ocean, filled with mysteries waiting to be discovered. Despite the unfamiliarity, you’re drawn to dive deep and lose yourself in the depths of his gaze.

“Do you remember our promise?” he murmurs, his voice a gentle rumble, yet resolute. Seeking solace in the familiarity of your gaze, his words carry the weight of cherished memories and unspoken vows.

“Of course,” you respond with a bittersweet smile, lifting your hand and extending your pinky finger. “I’ve never forgotten you, Jungkook,” you affirm, the weight of years past and promises kept evident in your touch.

He hums a melody, its tune unfamiliar yet strangely soothing, and in that moment, you find solace in the sound of his voice, the melody a balm to your racing heart. “I’ve never forgotten you either, ___,” he confesses, his words carrying the weight of shared memories and enduring connection.

With his other hand, he reaches out, extending his pinky finger to intertwine with yours, creating a connection that feels like two worlds colliding, merging into one. It’s a moment of transcendence, where past and present converge, binding you both in a promise that spans the depths of time.

“I never got to tell you this on that day, and it has haunted me since, but I like you,” His words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken truths and a vulnerability that echoes through your soul. As he gazes into your eyes, it feels like he’s peeling away layers of your being, leaving you exposed and vulnerable, despite the fabric that shields your skin. With each moment, he draws nearer, his touch a gentle anchor amidst the whirlwind of emotions swirling between you.

“I like you too,” your confession hangs in the air, suspended between you like a delicate thread woven with anticipation and longing. With every word, you feel the weight of your emotions, amplified by the closeness of his presence. As your breath brushes against his skin, you can almost taste the bittersweet tang of desire mingled with the salt of the ocean breeze.

In his embrace, you feel cherished, cocooned in a world where only the two of you exist. His gaze, laden with affection, dances between the depths of your eyes and the soft curve of your lips, a silent symphony of desire. You catch the subtle flicker of his pupils as they dilate, mirroring the fluttering of your heart. A fleeting gesture, your tongue brushes against your lips, a subtle invitation to bridge the divide between longing and fulfillment.

In the hushed sanctuary of the moonlit cave, time seems to stretch into a languid dance, enveloping you both in its tender embrace. The world outside fades into a distant murmur, leaving only the rhythmic melody of your shared breaths echoing off the rocky walls. Your gaze descends to the plush pinkness of his lips, a tantalizing invitation begging to be explored. A surge of curiosity and desire courses through you, igniting a tempest of longing as you ponder the intoxicating possibility of tasting his kiss.

“Can I kiss you?” His question hangs in the air like a delicate promise, and you feel a rush of anticipation flooding your senses, the tension between you crackling like electricity. His words, soft yet laden with unspoken longing, send a tremor of excitement coursing through your veins. In that suspended moment, you find yourself caught in the irresistible pull of his gaze, his eyes a sea of swirling emotions mirroring your own. With a silent plea echoing in your heart, you grant him permission with a subtle nod, your breath hitching in anticipation as you yearn for the moment when his lips will meet yours.

His tattooed hand, warm and possessive, slides from your cheek to the back of your neck with a gentle urgency, pulling you into him as if he’s afraid you might slip away. When his lips meet yours, it’s like a collision of stars, soft yet electric, igniting a wildfire of sensation that courses through your veins. As he pulls back, his eyes searching yours for any hint of discomfort, you’re overcome with a rush of warmth and affection. With a soft chuckle escaping your lips, you reach for him, fingers intertwining with the soft strands of his hair as you draw him closer. The second kiss is a revelation, a crescendo of desire and longing that leaves you breathless and craving more. His hum reverberates against your lips, grounding you in the intensity of the moment, like a lifeline in a sea of swirling emotions.

You draw back reluctantly, a sigh escaping your lips as you feel the bittersweet ache of parting. “It’s getting late,” you murmur, the weight of reality settling in as you remember your responsibilities waiting beyond the cave’s embrace. 

“When will I see you again?” the question hangs between you like a delicate thread, woven with hope and uncertainty, longing for reassurance in the face of impending separation.

A mischievous glint dances in his eyes, and he licks his lips with a playful flick of his tongue, relishing the way your senses are all tangled up in a whirlwind of emotions—frazzled yet utterly blissed-out in his presence.

“Soon,” he assures with a reassuring smile, his touch lingering for a moment longer as his thumb caresses your lip, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. “You can always find me here, or just listen for my voice. But duty calls back home. I’ll return, I promise.” With that, he pulls away, releasing you from the spell of the moment, but leaving behind a promise that lingers in the air like the echo of his voice in the cave.

Reluctantly, you rise, dusting off imaginary particles from your skin with a sweep of your hands, lingering in the moment a bit longer. With a soft smile, you regard him, your eyes filled with a mixture of fondness and longing. 

“You really have a beautiful voice, Jungkook,” you murmur, the words carrying a weight of sincerity and admiration, like a gentle breeze in the tranquil cave.

With a smile that seems to illuminate the entire cave, he gracefully immerses himself in the water, causing it to dance and ripple around him like liquid poetry in motion.

“I can’t wait to see you again,” you express, your voice tinged with a mixture of longing and affection, each word carrying the weight of the emotions you hold for him.

“I’ll be counting the moments until our paths cross again,” he murmurs softly, his words carrying on the gentle breeze as he fades into the depths below, leaving you with the lingering promise of his return.

Jungkook had indeed kept his word. Though you trusted him, a small part of you feared you’d never see him again. Yet, the very next day, he reappeared in the cave, serenading you with a song as you basked in his presence. This enchanting ritual has continued every day for the past two weeks, each encounter deepening your bond and making the fear of losing him fade away.

So far, your encounters have been limited to kisses, which you absolutely love—his lips are incredibly soft. Yet, lately, you’ve found yourself yearning for more. The stress of your upcoming housewarming party, which you’ve shared with Jungkook, isn’t helping. You think that letting loose with him might be just what you need to de-stress.

“Why are you having this party again if you don’t really want to?” he asks, genuinely curious. He can’t fathom why you’d willingly burden yourself with the hassle of pleasing others when it clearly brings you no joy.

“I guess it’s just expected of me,” you muse, looking down at the sparkling water as his tail gently plays with it, creating ripples. “My friends are coming, my parents too. They haven’t seen my new house yet.”

He smiles at you, a touch of sadness in his eyes. “It’s nice that you’re doing this for them, but it sounds like you’re forcing yourself. That makes me a bit sad.”

You shake your head and put up your hands in defense. “Yeah, but it’s okay. It’s not like I dislike it completely. It’ll be nice seeing my friends again.” You pause, a sudden idea lighting up your face. 

“You could also come, you know?”

His face brightens momentarily, but then he slumps down in the water, looking a bit deflated. “I’d love to come, but I’m not sure I can. My hyungs need my help in the village; one of them has been missing for days, and we’ve been searching for him without luck…” His voice trails off, a mix of concern and disappointment etched on his face.

You feel a twinge of sadness for him and say softly, “I’m so sorry, Jungkook. I hope you find him soon. Just know you’re always welcome, no matter when.”

His smile returns, but there’s a hint of worry in his eyes as he speaks. “Thanks. Jimin usually never wanders off, that’s why we’re afraid something has happened to him.”

You envelop him in a hug, offering what comfort you can, despite not knowing Jimin. You silently pray for Jimin’s swift return—after all, you understand more than most the ache of missing a piece of your heart.

A few days later, the soft strains of music fill your home, weaving through the laughter and chatter of old and new friends alike, and the comforting presence of your parents, whose faces you haven’t seen in what feels like an eternity.

As you mingle with your friends, catching up on stories and laughter, time seems to dance away unnoticed. It’s only when the gentle kiss of the evening breeze starts to nip at your skin that you realize how long you’ve been engrossed in conversation with your colleague out on the terrace. With a shared chuckle at the sudden chill, you both retreat inside, seeking the warmth of good company and lively conversations.

Her joke evokes laughter from you, but the moment is abruptly interrupted by her sudden silence, drawing your attention to where her finger points. In the kitchen, your parents stand, their faces alight with smiles, engaged in conversation with a tall, dark-haired man whose locks curl gently at the ends.

Her curiosity piques as she nudges you with a mischievous grin. 

“Who’s that hot man with a tattooed arm over there talking with your parents?” she asks, her voice tinged with intrigue, prompting both of you to draw nearer to the kitchen.

As you draw closer, disbelief gives way to certainty: it’s unmistakably Jungkook standing beside your parents.

“___! You never mentioned Jungkook’s return! How long has it been, twenty years?” your mother exclaims, her smile radiant as she pinches Jungkook’s cheek affectionately, treating him like a long-lost child returned home.

Your dad’s eyes sparkle with the warmth of a long-awaited reunion, as if he’s just rediscovered an old friend, and you can’t help but chuckle at the scene unfolding before you.

Your mother reaches out to embrace Jungkook, her petite frame enveloped by his much larger one, but he indulges her with a warm hug, wrapping her in a comforting embrace.

With a playful grin, your friend nudges you, her eyes darting between you and Jungkook, a knowing glint sparkling in them. “Who is this handsome man?”

As you break from your reverie, you manage a sheepish grin, your voice carrying a hint of nostalgia and excitement. “This is Jungkook, my childhood friend. We go way back.”

“He’s hot,” your friend’s observation cuts through the air with a boldness that makes you chuckle, her eyes gleaming mischievously as she sizes up Jungkook.

Your mother’s laughter fills the room, a warm melody that dances around the air. “He really is! You’ve really outgrown that cute bunny phase you had,” she teases, her fingers playfully squeezing Jungkook’s rather impressive biceps.

“Mom! You’re embarrassing me,” you groan, a mixture of embarrassment and exasperation painting your voice as you reach for Jungkook’s hand, eager to escape the teasing clutches of both your parents and your friend.

As you pull him away, Jungkook chuckles softly, following you into the living room where you both sink into the inviting embrace of the couch.

Amidst the chatter filling the room, engaging in conversation with Jungkook proves challenging, his words often drowned out by the lively voices of others around you.

“Would you like to step out for a bit? Take a stroll along the beach?” he proposes, his gaze alight with anticipation, as if the idea itself holds a promise of something wonderful.

With a nod, you clasp his hand, a silent agreement passing between you. But before you step out into the night, you make a quick detour to your friend, informing her of your plans for a seaside stroll.

She scrutinizes you with the intensity of a hawk, then delves into her purse, emerging with something in hand. “Here,” she says, passing it to you. 

“I have a feeling you might need this.”

You accept the small foil packet, its presence alone sending a jolt of recognition through you. Your cheeks and ears ignite with heat, and you hastily tuck it into your jeans pocket, your gratitude tinged with embarrassment. “Thanks,” you murmur, your voice slightly breathless.

As you begin to turn away, she shoots you a playful wink, causing you to release a sigh of embarrassment, your cheeks still flushed with color.

Outside, you stroll barefoot on the sand, reveling in the moment with Jungkook by your side—both of you connected to the earth beneath your feet. His presence captivates you, his figure tall and striking against the backdrop of the beach. Shoulder-length hair dances around his face, adding to his allure. With each step, you admire his physique—broad shoulders tapering to a defined waist, muscular thighs moving with purpose. Clad in a white tank top, his biceps speak of strength, while his snug blue denim jeans accentuate his powerful legs, showcasing a silhouette that commands attention.

His human form is undeniably beautiful, but it pales in comparison to the breathtaking splendor of his merman form. This realization brings a soft smile to your lips, and a blush warms your cheeks.

You walk with him along the beach, your hand nestled comfortably in his, the silence stretching between you like a warm blanket. It feels like an eternity before he clears his throat, a deep rumble that breaks the quiet. “Do you want to go to the cave?” he asks, his voice tinged with a hopeful anticipation.

You look up at him, captivated by the soft, teasing smile playing on his lips. “Yeah,” you agree, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest.

“Cool. I know a way to get there from land,” he says, pulling you along the shore. Your feet sink into the cool sand with each step, the waves gently lapping at your ankles as you follow him, while he makes an effort not to let the seawater touch him.

“You do? I thought it was only accessible from the sea,” you chuckle, feeling the excitement build as he leads you closer to the rocky formations along the cliffside.

“I know a lot of hiding spots,” he giggles, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes as he reveals a narrow, almost hidden entryway in the cliffside, just big enough for him to slip through.

You step into the familiar cliffside cave where you’ve been meeting for the past few weeks. Nestling into the small sandy patch, the only section not enveloped in stone, you feel a comforting sense of familiarity mixed with anticipation.

“Much easier to talk in here, huh?” Jungkook chuckles, leaning back against the cave wall. The gentle echo of his laughter fills the space, making it feel cozier. You nod, a soft, airy chuckle escaping your lips as a blush warms your cheeks. Sitting beside him, the intimacy of the cave amplifies every shared glance and whispered word.

You look up at him, your eyes fluttering bashfully. “I don’t really want to talk anymore,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh, I thought you wanted to talk,” he says, his voice deflating as a pout forms on his lips. That’s when it hits you—he has no idea how much you crave him, how badly you want to feel him, everywhere.

You turn your body towards his, your hands caressing his face as you pull his face towards yours. “I want to do more than talk,” you quip, your voice small but steady. “I want to kiss you and so much more.”

Something seems to snap in him, and a mischievous smirk spreads across his cheeks. He moves his face closer to yours, your noses almost touching. “So you want more?” he teases, his voice a tantalizing whisper against your lips.

“Yes,” you breathe, the word escaping in a breathless pant as you close the distance between you. Your lips meet his in a fervent, passionate kiss, igniting a fire that blazes between you. Your hands hold his cheeks in place, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch, as he responds eagerly, deepening the kiss with his tongue, sending waves of desire coursing through you.

When you part, both of your eyes are wide, pupils dilated with desire, reflecting the intensity of the moment.

“I want you, Kook,” you plead, your breath mingling with his, your foreheads pressed together in an intimate connection.

Your fingertips trace the lines of his body, dancing over the contours of his chest until they halt at the brink of his jeans.

“I want you too, ___, but I—” he pants, his words cut short as you start to rub your hand over his clothed dick, eliciting a deep, gratifying groan from him.

You keep teasing him with your hand, feeling the growing hardness beneath your touch, sending shivers of anticipation down your spine. You lick your lips, watching as his face contorts in pleasure, every subtle reaction driving you wild with desire.

“Hmm, you like it?” you ask, positioning yourself directly in front of him, locking eyes as you continue your ministrations.

“Yes, but I—” as your hand maintains its pressure on his crotch, he stammers out his words, his voice a mixture of desire and hesitation.

“What, are you a virgin?” your playful tease hangs in the air, accompanied by a soft chuckle, as you lean in closer to him, your breath warming his ear with your whispered words.

“No!” His response is hurried, almost defensive, tinged with a hint of embarrassment. “I’ve just never done it with a human before…” he confesses, his tone a mixture of vulnerability and curiosity.

You draw back slightly, scanning his face, catching a glimpse of uncertainty mingled with desire flickering in his eyes.

“I can guide you through it, show you what feels good. Trust me, you’ll enjoy every moment,” you say, your eyes shimmering with a mix of confidence and anticipation.

“I mean, Jin hyung already told me how it works,” he pants, his gaze fixated on your hand as it works its magic, his hips instinctively moving in rhythm, “I’ve touched myself before, out of curiosity, but I’ve never had sex with a human before.”

Your expression softens, recognizing that this is a new experience for him, so you resolve to take it slow.

“Mermen don’t exactly have dicks like humans,” he chuckles, his movements against your hand betraying his eagerness for friction.

You lean in again, teasing him, “How exactly do merfolk have sex?”

He chuckles, smirking at you, “Well, it’s more like a mating ritual, honestly. There’s some swimming around, almost like a dance, rubbing against each other. It’s quite primal and intimate, in its own way.”

You frown, a mixture of curiosity and disbelief evident on your face. “That’s it?”

He nods, his expression both amused and sincere.’

“No teasing? Release of bodily fluids? Making out? Sticking things into holes?” you list, your expression a mix of incredulity and disappointment. God, you really do like sex and all of the things you just listed. Mermaid intercourse sounds slightly boring in comparison.

“No sticking things into holes sadly—except for tongue kissing,” he chuckles, masking his disappointment with a playful grin, though you sense a tinge of longing in his eyes.

“But you get to try that now, okay? Then you can tell all your friends how it is to have sex with a human,” you smile, feeling a bit mischievous, your words laced with humor as you try to lighten the mood after the serious discussion.

“Many of them have already experienced it,” he laughs, his tone tinged with excitement and a hint of anticipation, “My hyungs have done it a lot, and I can’t wait to experience it myself.”

“They sound like they’ve had their fair share of adventures,” you chuckle, stealing a glance downwards, noticing the telltale strain in his pants.

He chuckles, a faint blush tinting his cheeks. “Can we talk about something else? Because I’m having trouble focusing on your hand when I’m talking about my friends.”

With a playful laugh, you grasp the situation and share a knowing glance. Eager to reignite the passionate spark between you, you playfully unzip his pants, only to discover he’s gone commando—a thrilling surprise that sets your heart racing and ignites a rush of desire.

A mischievous grin plays on your lips as you raise an eyebrow, your fingers wrapping around his cock teasingly. “No underwear?” you jest, a playful twinkle in your eye, as you give him a tantalizing stroke, feeling his anticipation building with each caress.

With a low, guttural sound, he shifts his weight, arching his back to assist as you peel off the remainder of his jeans. Your fingers eagerly find their way back to his dick, marveling at its girth and length, already imagining the delicious stretch it will bring. The anticipation sends shivers down your spine.

His cock is long— longer than average, and thicker too. The tip is red, a small bead of precum gathered at the top, just waiting to be tasted by your tongue.

He teases you, his hips surging upward as if to test your grip. “Do you like it?” he murmurs, a hint of mischief in his voice, his eyes locking onto yours as he waits for your response.

You meet his gaze with a smirk, your fingers still wrapped around him. “Yeah, it’s impressive,” you concede, your voice laced with anticipation. Honestly, you don’t care much about the size of it, more about how good he is at using it.

He watches you intently, his gaze probing yet curious. “Have you had a lot of sex before?”

You nod and give him a small smile.

You lean in closer, your eyes locked with his, conveying your sincerity and eagerness. “I have, but let’s focus on us now,” you whisper, your voice tinged with determination. “I want to make you feel good, and then you can return the favor. How does that sound?”

With a tantalizing smile, you moisten your lips before lowering them to his cock. The instant contact makes him quiver, a reaction that only fuels your desire. You start by tracing him with your tongue, savoring his taste, before enveloping him completely in your warm, wet mouth.

He utters adorable, needy moans as your mouth envelops him, his reactions spurring you on as you slide up and down, sucking him with fervor and intensity.

His hands find your hair, gripping it gently at first, then with a bit more urgency, but you don’t mind one bit. Instead, it fuels your desire, urging you to take more of him into your mouth, to please him further with every movement.

The echoing sounds of slurping fill the cave, reverberating off the rocky walls, creating a symphony of desire. Each wet, sucking noise only fuels your arousal further, igniting a fire within you that burns hotter with every passing moment.

“Shit. I’m feeling like I might come already,” he pants, his fingers tightening in your hair, a futile attempt to control the rising tide of pleasure coursing through him.

You release him with a soft pop, panting as you meet his pleading gaze, a flicker of desire mirrored in your eyes, silently promising more to come.

“It felt really good, but I really want to know what it feels like being inside your pussy, please,” his plea echoes through the cave, his eyes pleading like a desperate puppy, and you can’t help but chuckle at his adorable earnestness, your own desire kindled by his longing gaze.

“Of course. I want to have you inside of me too,” you pant, urgency seeping into your voice as you hastily pull your shirt over your head, revealing the lace of your bra to him, a silent invitation in the flickering light of the cave.

“You’re stunning,” he breathes, his voice filled with awe and genuine appreciation. “It’s not just your body that I love, but your entire essence, your personality—it’s all so captivating.”

Your smile widens, mirroring the warmth and affection swelling in your chest as you gaze at him. As you begin to unbutton your pants, a thought nudges its way into your consciousness. Retrieving the foil packet from your pocket, you place it on the ground between you, a silent promise of the intimacy about to unfold.

Jungkook’s gaze flickers to the foil packet, curiosity sparking in his eyes like a flame catching kindling. “What’s that?” he asks, his voice laced with intrigue and a hint of anticipation, as if sensing the gravity of the moment wrapped in that small, innocuous package.

You chuckle softly, charmed by his innocence, realizing he’s never encountered a condom before. It’s endearing, really, how sheltered his underwater world has been.

“It’s a condom. It’s for protection,” you explain gently, feeling a mix of tenderness and amusement at his innocence. “You put it on your cock. I’m on birth control, but it never hurts to be extra safe,” you assure him, deciding to take the lead and offer to help him put it on.

As you attempt to open the foil packet, he intercepts your movement with a smirk, halting you with his hand. “Not now. I want to taste you first. Can I? And will you let me know if you like it or not? I’ve never tried it before,” he trails off, his voice soft and endearing. It’s moments like these that make you realize just how charming he can be.

His hands find purchase on your hips, and with a deliberate tug, he pulls your pants down, leaving you bare in your underwear. His gaze travels over you, from your eyes down to your dripping cunt, igniting a fire of anticipation in your core.

“Your panties are wet.” 

You chuckle in response, a mix of excitement and nervousness dancing in your eyes as you obediently part your legs wider, inviting him in with a playful yet anticipatory smirk.

“That’s because I’m aroused,” you confess, your voice barely a whisper as his touch sends a delicious shiver down your spine, your anticipation building with every electrifying caress of his hand against your hip bone and down to your pussy.

“You can remove it,” you whisper, your voice husky with desire, as you arch your back, offering yourself to him, a silent invitation. With a slow, deliberate motion, he slides your panties down your legs, revealing your glistening pussy to the dimly lit cave, the anticipation thickening the air between you.

He lowers himself between your parted legs, his touch sending shivers up your spine as his hands explore the soft skin of your thighs, eliciting playful giggles from your lips. With agonizing slowness, his fingertips inch closer to your aching pussy, your body aching with desire, yearning for his touch. You find yourself silently begging for him to make contact, your entire being consumed by the anticipation of his caress.

“Please, Jungkook,” you implore, your voice trembling with urgency and longing, “I need to feel you, your touch—whether it’s your fingers or your mouth, I don’t care. Just touch me.”

As he gazes into your eyes, his expression filled with desire and understanding, he delicately traces his index finger over your sensitive clit. The sensation overwhelms you, eliciting a strangled gasp of his name, your body responding eagerly to his touch.

With each gentle stroke of his finger over your clit, you can’t help but release a soft moan, your body instinctively responding to his touch. Sensing your pleasure, he continues, his movements becoming more confident as he circles and rubs your clit, each touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

As your breath quickens and your body trembles with anticipation, you find it increasingly difficult to maintain control, your legs quivering with need. Sensing your urgency, he gently guides your legs apart with his free hand, allowing him better access to your pussy.

He watches, entranced, as your clit pulsates, the rhythmic flexing and relaxing of the muscle a mesmerizing sight. The vision of your arousal sends a jolt of desire through him, making his own need painfully evident.

“You can put a finger in,” you pant, your voice trembling with need, eyes wide and pleading for more.

He looks up, his eyes searching yours, “Are you sure?” he asks, his voice a husky whisper filled with both concern and anticipation.

You bite your bottom lip, a soft groan escaping your throat. “Yes, Jungkook,” you breathe, your voice laced with desperate longing, “I want your fingers inside me now.”

With the hand that was expertly teasing your clit, Jungkook slides it down to your slick folds, marveling at how you glisten in the moonlit cave. He gently positions his index finger, then slowly, almost tantalizingly, pushes it inside you, making you gasp at the intimate sensation.

The pleasure hits you instantly, a surge of desire overwhelming your senses. You crave more, each second intensifying your need, as if every nerve in your body is crying out for him.

“Wow,” he breathes, mesmerized by the sight of his finger slowly disappearing into your hole, his eyes wide with awe and desire.

Mesmerized, he begins thrusting his finger in and out of you, his movements slow and deliberate. Your sweet noises of pleasure fill the cave, encouraging him. After a moment, he looks up, his voice husky with desire, “Can I add another one?”

You nod, and another finger slips into your pussy, stretching you just a bit more. The sensation is intoxicating, yet you crave so much more. You’re trying to maintain control, to let him take his time, but the need inside you is almost overwhelming.

“Please,” you whisper urgently, your voice trembling with desire, “add a third finger and use your other hand to play with my clit.” You crave the sensation, the stretch, the readiness for his cock, your need palpable in every word.

With a swift motion, you unhook your bra, allowing it to slip to the ground. His movements pause as his gaze fixes on your exposed chest—your nipples standing pert and proud, a silent invitation to his touch.

As his gaze reluctantly leaves your exposed chest, he resumes his attention on you, the third finger sliding into you with a gasp of pleasure escaping your lips at the welcomed stretch. His thumb, slick with your juices, finds your clit once more, initiating a rhythm that sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Breathless and on the edge of ecstasy, you manage to muster the question, your voice filled with awe and admiration, “Are you sure you haven’t done this before? Because you’re really good at it.”

His laughter dances in the air, a melody to your unraveling pleasure. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he withdraws his fingers, leaving you with a perplexed frown until you see him drawing nearer, his tongue tracing the contours of your pussy.

You surrender to the ecstasy, tossing your head back as waves of pleasure wash over you, relishing the sensation of his velvety tongue caressing every contour of your quivering folds and sending electric pulses of delight through your clit.

With a hunger that matches your own, he envelops your clit, his mouth becoming a vortex of ravenous need, as he sucks and teases, drawing forth the essence of your desire and savoring every drop of your arousal with a fervent devotion.

With an almost expert touch, he draws your sensitive bud into his mouth, creating a vortex of sensation that sends electrifying pulses of pleasure coursing through your body. Each suction brings you closer to the edge, igniting a fiery intensity that threatens to consume you entirely. As you pant and gasp, your senses reel with the impending release, the anticipation coiling tighter within you like a spring ready to unleash its pent-up energy.

Your fingers trace the curves of your breasts, igniting a trail of sensation that sends shivers down your spine. With each touch, you feel the heat building within you, a primal urge demanding release. Your fingertips dance over your nipples, teasing them to attention, and you can’t help but respond with a symphony of gasps and moans.

Jungkook’s gaze flickers up, drawn to the symphony of your movements, your gasps and moans orchestrating a melody of desire. Yet, he remains steadfast in his task, his lips and tongue weaving a spell of ecstasy as he devours you with hunger, like he has done this many times before. It’s as though he’s an artist, each stroke of his tongue a masterpiece, each flicker of his lips a masterpiece of passion.

As your body arches and trembles with impending release, you’re acutely aware that the peak of ecstasy is just within reach. “Jungkook,” you gasp, your voice a fervent plea, “I’m... I’m going to come.”

With his deep chuckle vibrating against your most sensitive spot, you’re overcome by the intoxicating blend of sensations. In an instant, your world explodes into a symphony of pleasure, your fingers tangling in his ebony locks, anchoring you to the dizzying whirlwind of ecstasy as he eagerly savors every drop of your essence.

With a gentle and tender gaze, he pulls away, his features adorned with a shimmer of your essence. “Was this alright?” he murmurs, his voice carrying a hint of uncertainty, yet his eyes brimming with warmth and adoration. With a gasp of disbelief, you draw him into a passionate kiss, savoring the mingling taste of yourself on his lips, yet your heart races with an electric thrill. “It was perfect,” you murmur against his mouth, your voice laden with sincerity and longing, sealing the moment with fervent intensity.

“Now you can fuck me,” filled with need, you voice your desire, urgency coloring every syllable, as you reach for his shirt and hastily pull it over his head. Your fingers fumble with the foil packet, opening it with a sense of anticipation, before your hand finds his still-hard cock.

With careful precision, you slide the condom over his dick, a tangible barrier between you and raw desire. As you spread your legs, creating space for him, his cock hovers tantalizingly close to where you ache for him most. In his gaze, you detect a mixture of longing and uncertainty, silently seeking your permission to proceed.

You take control, grasping his cock firmly and guiding it to your eager entrance. With a whispered instruction, you urge him to press forward, “Push a little, but slowly.”

As he nods in agreement, a determined glint ignites in his eyes. With gentle yet purposeful movements, he starts to ease his cock into the welcoming warmth of your eager pussy, each inch sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body, stretching you deliciously with every inch gained.

His breath hitches, voice laced with wonderment, “Wow. You’re so tight,” he pants, his words punctuated by the sensation of more and more of his dick disappearing into the velvety depths of your cunt, a symphony of pleasure enveloping you both with each inch he claims.

“God, you’re big,” you pant back, a mixture of excitement and anticipation lacing your voice as you try your best to relax, welcoming the exquisite stretch and fullness as he almost fills you up, every inch of him stirring a delicious ache within you.

Finally, he’s completely inside, and you release a shaky breath you didn’t even realize you’d been holding, feeling every pulsing inch of him deep within you, a rush of sensation flooding your senses as you revel in the delicious fullness he provides.

“You can move now,” you encourage him with a smile, eager anticipation shimmering in your eyes as you invite him to explore the depths of pleasure with each rhythmic thrust.

“How? You’re hugging me so tight,” he groans in pleasure, his voice tinged with uncertainty, as if seeking your direction amidst the waves of sensation coursing through both of you.

“Feel how we fit together?” you whisper, your hands tenderly guiding his hips. “Just move your hips—back and forth. Follow the rhythm of our bodies, and trust me, it’ll be amazing.”

“I already feel so good.”

He starts with a gentle push, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through you. With each thrust, he delves deeper, igniting an electric dance between your bodies, and you can’t help but moan in bliss.

“Don’t stop—faster,” you urge him on, and he responds with a surge of intensity, each thrust echoing in the cavern, a symphony of desire enveloping you both.

Your hands abandon his ass and hips once you’re satisfied he’s got the rhythm, his every thrust hitting that perfect spot, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through you, your eyes rolling back in pleasure.

You moan his name, the sound igniting a primal response in him, his grunts mingling with your name, creating a symphony of passion in the cave.

“Keep going—harder,” you plead, your voice laced with urgency and desire. With each thrust, he drives into you with unyielding force, your back meeting the rough cave wall, igniting a primal intensity that leaves you breathless. You know there’ll be marks and scratches later, but at this moment, all you care about is the raw, primal pleasure he’s giving you.

“Yes!” you scream, your voice echoing against the walls of the cave, the intensity of his thrusts driving you to clutch his strong biceps for leverage. The intricate tattoo sleeve he has on his right arm, flexing with the strength he puts into his thrusts. With each powerful movement of his hips, he plunges deeper into you, igniting a primal fire that consumes both of you in an insatiable frenzy.

“___. I think I’m going to come soon,” he confesses, his voice strained with pleasure, his brows furrowing in anticipation of the impending release.

“Me too. Shit. Are you sure you’ve never done this before?” you gasp out, your disbelief mingling with the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. His skill and passion feel too seasoned for a first-timer, leaving you both questioning the truth of his innocence.

“I’m just a fast learner,” he teases, his lips finding solace on one of your exposed nipples, eliciting a fervent moan of his name from you. 

He sucks and nibbles at it, all while hitting your soft spot with precision. It’s an onslaught of sensation, driving you to the edge of ecstasy. You can feel the coil of pleasure winding tighter and tighter within you, threatening to unravel at any moment.

With a tantalizing pop, he releases your nipple, only to lavish the same attention on its twin. His kisses, licks, and sucking send ripples of pleasure through your body, each touch igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you whole.

That’s it. You’re gonna come again.

“Fuck, Kook,” you cry out, the intensity of the moment overwhelming you as you surrender to the torrent of ecstasy, your pussy releasing your liquid and pulsating around his cock, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you with the breakneck speed he’s moving his hips at.

“Damn, how did you just get even tighter?” he groans, his voice strained with pleasure, his primal urges driving him to the brink of ecstasy. You feel his urgency, knowing he’s teetering on the edge of release.

“Fuck—” he pants, his breath ragged and erratic. Then, he stutters, his movements turning feral for a moment as you feel his cock twitch inside your pussy, and he releases into the condom, his body shuddering with the intensity of his climax.

He stills inside you, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he puts all of his weight into his arms. You gaze at him with a smile, your hand finding his cheek, gently pulling him closer to you, a silent reassurance in your touch.

You kiss him tenderly, the intimacy lingering in the air as your lips meet in a long and deep embrace. When you finally part, your breath mingling, you whisper softly, “I loved every moment of it.”

“Me too,” his voice carries a gentle exhaustion, mirroring the weariness you also feel settling in. You share a quiet moment, the weight of your shared passion and pleasure evident in the silence that follows.

As he gradually softens inside you, he withdraws gently. You swiftly retrieve the condom, deftly disposing of it with a practiced flick, tossing it into the depths of the cave, a silent testament to the intimacy shared in this hidden sanctuary.

“Can we do it again?” he pleads, his eyes ablaze with desire, each word heavy with anticipation, begging for another swim into ecstasy.

“Yeah, I’d love that,” you murmur, pressing your lips to his once more, the promise of another intimate time igniting a fire within you both.

“But maybe we can go for a swim first?” you suggest with a playful glint in your eyes as you feel your breathing gradually returning to normal.

His expression shifts to one of surprise. “You want to swim? I’ll revert to my merman form then…”

You gently grasp his cheek, locking eyes with him, the intensity of your gaze echoing your sincerity. “I love you, whether you’re in your merman or human form. I love all of you. And yes, I want to swim with you. You know how much I love being in the water.”

As he eases into your proximity, he nods, inching towards the water within the cave. With a mesmerizing display, a cascade of sparkle and glitter dances in the air as his legs seamlessly meld into a majestic purple tail. Your jaw drops, captivated once again by the breathtaking sight of his merman form, each time feeling like the first time you saw him like this.

He gracefully glides into the water with a splash, and you eagerly trail behind, tentative at first, dipping your toes into the cool embrace, then succumbing to the gentle caress that envelops your entire naked form.

You swim alongside him, venturing beyond the confines of the cave, out into the vast expanse of the open sea. The ocean stretches endlessly, meeting the horizon in a seamless blend of moonlit waves. Above, the sky is a tapestry of stars, each one twinkling like a promise of infinite possibilities. Though your house is a distant silhouette against the shore, it fades from your thoughts in the enchantment of this moment.

As you glide through the water beside him, the gentle rhythm of his tail occasionally breaking the surface with playful splashes, you find yourself drawn to the mystery of his world. “I’d love to see your home someday,” you say, the words carried away by the ocean breeze, mingling with the soft lullaby of the waves.

“Yeah. I know a witch that can turn you into a mermaid, if you really want to,” he says with a big smile on his face, his eyes sparkling with mischief as they meet your surprised gaze, mirroring your astonishment with his own excitement.

Your eyes widen with wonder— the thought of becoming a mermaid, a cherished childhood dream, suddenly within reach. “I’d love that,” you breathe, your voice filled with an intoxicating mix of excitement and disbelief, as if daring the universe to make this fantasy a reality.

→ Disclaimer: the banner is obviously partly made with AI— I just want to point that out, to clear the air. I’d normally never use AI in my work, but for this specific fantasy series, I just came up really sort with making them myself with pre existing images of bangtan 😭 Because I want a certain aesthetic (no, a moodboard is not what I was looking for), I decided to use AI to crunch out the merman— I did not, and I repeat this, I did not write any of their names for the prompts, which is also why I do not want to show any faces in these banners, because I know how the guys feel about making AI with them, and I agree. Which is why, this is in short just generically made images that are prompted by a scene in the story. In the end, I still made the banner— did retouching, color grading, added and/or removed stuff, added background etc. Just to let you know. Normally, all my banners and graphics are 100% made by me, unless otherwise stated! (lol, what I mean here is that I’m making them myself, I still use stock photos and vectors made by others in my work sometimes (the banners)).

© @/kingofbodyrolls 2024 // Please don’t copy or repost! You are more than welcome to reblog it, leave a comment or ask me anything about the story 🥰

[katyobsesses]

My mum complained for days when she was I'll with some sort of cold/flu/notCovid thing, but as soon as I start presenting with the same symptoms?

Nah, I'm fine apparently. Apparently I'm not sneezing and coughing my head off, or feel like I'm about to throw up and have no appetite or energy.

This is why I don't tell her things, she fucking downplays everything

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Reconnection: cbf!soap x f!reader

Long part sorry folks. The next parts will probably be longer because we're getting into the meat of the story.

You could scream. You wanted to, and would've, because how much worse could your life get right now?

Everything was falling apart and the cherry on top was that your childhood best friend, your crush and first love who you didn't leave on necessarily good terms with, was standing in front of you, seeing your downfall.

And the worst part was that John looked amazing.

He looked different, nearly unrecognizable if you had only glanced at him. His features were sharper and the stubble on his face didn't help the serious grown up look he had on his face before he looked at you. His eyes were bright, brighter than you remembered and he looked at you with a sort of nervousness that made you swallow hard.

And of course he seemed to have gotten bigger.

It seemed his muscles had grown twice as large since you had seen him last. You were convinced that his arms had to be as large as your head now.

He was hot.

Of course he was. Even after all these years, after what he did, you couldn't help but still be attracted to him. He had always looked attractive but now it seemed he had gotten even more so.

Embarrassment washed over you. Compared to him you looked a disaster. You hadn't had the time to stick with your routine and you knew the clothes you threw on were definitely dirty.

After all this time he was in front of you and you could hardly even speak a word. What were you supposed to say? What was there for you to say other than a quick hi before you scurried out of corner store-

"You alright?" John asked and you jumped slightly before you glanced back at the snack rack on the ground.

"Uh, yeah." You gave him a sheepish smile and he returned one back. You saw the shop worker from afar give you an annoyed look and you quickly gestured to the snacks on the ground. "Should probably pick these up..."

"I'll help."

You tensed up but didn't say anything as you set down your items while he helped you pick them up. You were quick as you did so, trying your best to get it done as quick as possible so you could run out.

"Mam told me you moved back recently." He said and your stomach dropped so fast you felt sick.

"Yeah, my job let's me move around," you lied immediately with a nervous chuckle. "Decided to move back to see my parents and what not."

"That's great."

You hummed and avoided his eyes when you both stood up. You hoped that the small talk would end there but John cleared his throat.

"I'm actually visiting home too," he smiled but it didn't quite get rid of the nervousness in his eyes. "For a while, at least."

Your eyes widened. You didn't think it could get any worse and yet knowing that he was going to be in town made you want to hide away.

Why couldn't this happen when you had a job? The last thing you wanted was for him to think that you had hardly tried to make a life for yourself since university.

As much as you didn't want to see him however, you were happy to know that he was home and that he was alive.

"Oh...you're on leave." You said and he nodded without taking his eyes off you.

"Yeah, won't be gong back for a couples months, probably longer." He explained and you pressed your lips together.

"That's nice."

Awkward silence fell between the two of you and you averted your eyes from him, unable to take the way he was looking at you.

You weren't sure what else to say. There was so much you wanted to ask him, to talk to him about and yet you couldn't find the courage to even find your voice. Fear gripped your throat and you struggled to even breathe with the tightness.

John must've felt the same way as he took a small step back from you and fidgeted with his fingers.

It hurt you. Things used to be so different between you, you never would've experienced this kind of awkwardness years ago, you never would've thought it would happen.

When you thought about how you would react when you saw him again, what you would do or say, you never imagined that it would be like this. In your mind you said the right things, in your mind you were happy to see him but right now you were afraid he'd somehow find out you were a failure.

You couldn't take it anymore. You had to get out, go home and get wasted so you could hopefully forget all about this.

"Well, I should probably get back."

"I'll walk with ya."

You looked at him incredulously but he smiled.

"You don't have to-"

"Well, we're heading the same way, so why not? We can catch up more while we're at it."

You blinked at him and despite the fact that your mind screamed at you to say no the longer you looked at him and his warm smile the more you found yourself giving in to the old memories you shared with him.

All of the times when you'd walk home together, goofy around and talking about whatever came to mind. The days where you spent every waking hour with each other until it was time to go to bed.

It hurt your heart but you craved it. You were desperate for it again.

Just this once, you told yourself.

"I need to pay for these first." You held up your alcohol and snack, hoping he wouldn't question it.

Luckily for you he grinned and walked back down the aisle.

"Aye," he grabbed a box of popcorn and looked back at you proudly. "Me too."

~

Johnny couldn't keep his eyes off you.

Your social media pictures didn’t do any justice for you. You were beautiful, even more so in person and especially in the evening sunlight, where it seemed your skin and hair glowed from the sun.

You looked different but in the best way possible, like you had grown into someone who you wanted to be and it was hard for him to not stare.

He’d stare at you all day if he could. He wanted to, he wanted to commit every detail, new and old, to his memory again so that he wouldn’t ever have to know what it was like to not see you. He wanted your face to always be a clear picture when he thought of you.

"How’s the military treating you?” You asked, a little awkwardly, as the two of you walked together towards your home. “Are you a hero yet?”

Johnny couldn’t help but chuckle though he wasn’t exactly too pleased about the notion of him being a hero.

After killing Makarov only three months ago he wanted to feel more than a sense of immense dread but it was hard to feel anything else when he had spent nearly two and half months in a sling with a new scar.

The recovery was slow, stressing over whether or not his captain would make it. Luckily the old man was home with a few more weeks of recovery. But he was also stressing over the fact that the past seven years of his life had been spent with a crushing loneliness in the back of his mind.

It was stupid. Just barely missing a bullet to the head was enough to knock sense back into him to make him realize his fear of reaching out to you was stupid.

If he had died, he would’ve died without seeing you again, his best friend, the love of his life, and he would’ve rotted in hell steaming with regret over never having said another word to you.

He couldn’t let himself go by without you any longer, he had to see you which was why he came home.

He had planned to visit your parents to see where you were but then his mom told him that you had moved back and he practically ran out of the house.

It was pure chance that he ran into you at the store, but he couldn’t be more grateful that he finally got to see you again.

Even if things were less than ideal.

It was easy for him to tell you were expecting to see him or for him to speak to you. In fact, he was sure you looked like you were ready to book it out of the store when he came up to you.

He was glad you didn’t.

“I wouldn’t call myself a hero.” He shrugged and you titled your head. “Just keeping the world clean, as my captain would say.”

“I’m glad it’s working out for you.” You said and he was surprised to see that you gave him a genuine smile.

Johnny was a little worried coming back to see you. He knew his career would come up and since it was the whole reason the he stopped speaking to you, it was a sore subject.

Yet it seemed for the most part, at least for right now, you were pretty neutral about it.

“It’s hard but I like it.” He felt a little lighter. “How about you? Your job sounds pretty sweet if you can move around a lot.”

You averted your gaze from him and shrugged.

“Yeah, it’s not so bad.” Your answer was vague but he didn’t dwell on it.

He was making conversation with you. Small talk but it was a start and he could feel that things were starting to get less tense and awkward. The longer he walked next to you and spoke with you, the more and more happier he got.

You were talking to him. He was so afraid that you wouldn’t and honestly he expected it.

He expected you to turn him away but by some miracle you hadn’t.

“Never mind about work, let’s talk about something else.” He urged and you raised an eyebrow. “Tell me what’s going on with ya.”

“Nothing much,” you giggled and he playfully groaned. “My life is pretty boring.”

“Load of shite. There has to be something…”

He hid the way his mood dropped as he realized there was one thing he could ask you about. He wanted to avoid it but he didn’t want to potentially overstep any of your new boundaries.

“Your fiancé,” he began and your eyebrows knitted together. “How’s he like it in this small town?”

“Well…” you were hesitant and his face fell when you sheepishly turned away from him. “I broke off the marriage with him.”

He would’ve been happy if it weren’t for the way your face pulled into a frown as you stared at the asphalt. He suspected it but he didn’t want to assume for his benefit, especially now that you were heartbroken over it.

“What happened?”

“He cheated on me.”

Johnny clenched his jaw and his hands balled up into fists immediately. His face fell into a scowl and he had to take a deep breath to keep himself calm.

It took a lot for him to not see red, especially as he saw the way your shoulders slumped and the way you averted your eyes from his as if you were ashamed of it.

Oh, if he ever got his hands on the man. He wasn’t sure if there would be anything left of him and if there was he’d be in the hospital for a while when he was done.

“That fucking bastard.” He spat out in a low voice. It was easy to tell he was angry and you quickly tried to placate him.

“He’s not worth it.” You told him firmly and he huffed. “It was nearly a year ago.”

“Dinnae care when it was, you don’t deserve that.”

“I know I don’t. I just don’t want you beating him up.”

Johnny scoffed snd though he unclenched his fists his jaw still clicked as he shook his head with an eye roll.

“He’s fucking lucky he isn’t here.”

“You can’t beat up people for me.”

“I have and I will. The day I don’t is the day I’m dead.”

Despite the concern on your face you smiled and a soft chuckle escaped your mouth which made him loosen up.

He let out a short sigh and watched as you shook your head.

“I guess you haven’t changed that much, John.” You said and he felt a pang in his heart.

John.

Suddenly reality came back and the rose colored glasses were ripped off.

Just because you were speaking with him now didn’t mean that things were cleared up. It didn’t mean anything had changed because at the end of the day there were years of time in between this moment and the last where you had become strangers.

And that’s what you both were. Strangers who used to know each other who were now seeing each other again, completely changed, despite what you said.

“Guess not.” He mumbled and felt his chest grow heavy when he realized the two of you were standing in front of your house.

This was going to end and he wouldn’t see you again. If he did it wouldn’t be like how he wanted, it would be a quick wave maybe a small conversation about the weather before you both went your separate ways.

He’d be deployed and then you’d be gone.

He couldn’t let that happen, he wasn’t going to let it happen. He was going to do everything he could to win you back, everything he could to rebuild what he broke and if it took years he was willing to do it.

His heart pounded against his ribs but if there was one thing about his job is that even if he was scared, he still had to do it,

“Do you want to hang out tomorrow?” He blurted out and you snapped your head towards him with wide eyes. “And the rest of this week?”

“Like…spend time together?” You hesitated and he nodded.

“You know, the movies, lunch…Mam’s having our annual family dinner tomorrow. You could come to that.”

You bit your lips and shifted on your feet. You looked uncertain and Johnny had to force himself to look straight at you and not let his emotions get the better of him as you thought for a moment.

“I’d like that.”

His eyes widened and he stared at you with surprise before his heart began to race.

“Ya mean that? All of it?” He stepped closer and you nodded.

“Yeah.”

He could cheer. He probably would once he was alone and you were out of earshot. He let out a relieved chuckle before he ran a hand through his slightly overgrown mohawk.

“It’ll be fun, you know how well Mam cooks.” He felt jittery in the best way possible. “We can figure out specifics tomorrow. I’ll message you…do you still have the same phone number.”

You nodded.

“Do you?”

“Yeah.”

You had a fond look in your eyes that Johnny must’ve mirrored as the two of you stood there for a moment just staring at each other.

After all these years he was finally getting to be with you again. He’s not sure if he deserved it.

“Then it’s official.” He handed you the popcorn he bought with a grin before he stepped away. “I’ll message you in the morning.”

“Wait you don’t want these?” You gave him a confused look as you held up the popcorn but he shook his head.

“Nah, I got it for you. That’s still your favorite right?”

You stared down at the box and you nodded slowly, a flustered look spreading across your face before you gave him a genuine smile.

He could hardly keep his excitement down, it’d be a miracle if he didn’t confess everything to you right now.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, bonnie.”

“See you tomorrow.”

Tags are closed!

A/n: don’t be fooled, there’s still angst on the way but it’s a happy ending

Tags: @elysian0612 @cassiecasluciluce @pepsicolacoochie @hayleybarnesx @tiredmetalenthusiast @misshoneypaper @sodavrr @ghostslittlegf @glitterypirateduck @comeonatmebruh @mandalover2023 @blush-haze @xxshadowbabexx @cod-z @sadsackssss @fandomsfanficsfantasize @raeyas-ghost

[pasta-in-the-pudding]

Thank youuu, maayybbee a comforting headcanons about your choice of Creepypasta with a reader who is like uh like really really tired in all sort of ways that they won’t cooperate in anything, mind being so nice to give them a whole slideshow of their messed up childhood and

Y’know just a really fucked out reader

Sorry if it’s y’know too much or anything, you can do it whenever you want!

-🐰

I love writing comfort scenarios <33

Credits to divider goes to saradika-graphics! Go follow them and support their works

Thank you so much for requesting!!

Ticci Toby

He understands that sometimes, everything is too much and your brain just kind of shuts down

But he is also a very anxious person

So when he sees you laying in bed, the exact same position you were in when he left in the morning, he gets a little concerned

Have you moved at all? Have you eaten? Drank anything? Taken a shower?

But he respects your privacy and doesn't ask you about it, assuming maybe you just wanted a lazy day to yourself

So he brings his dinner up to you that night, sharing just in case this is in fact the first you've eaten all day

And when you continue this behavior the next day, he begins to panic

The other creeps know something's up too, or at least, E.J does, because once Toby gets home E.J approaches him about it

"Hey, I asked y/n to clean the equipment they used in the gym last time and they just said no. They also seemed pretty lethargic, barely moving or breathing at all. Nothing to worry about right now, but it is concerning."

And with that, he walks off, seemingly not even wanting an answer, just wanting to give Toby a heads up

So once again, Toby goes to your room once again, seeing that you still haven't moved

"You haven't moved." He says

"Mhm" you respond absently, scrolling on your phone

"Have you eaten today?" He asks, beginning to get nervous

"Mhm" you respond once more, though it's not a real response it's just one to make him happy

"Um. EJ said you didn't want to clean the gym equipment you used?" He fidgets with his fingers now, picking at the dry skin

"Mhm" Is the only thing you say, and the only thing you're going to say he realizes

So he comes to sit on the bed next to you, moving some of your hair out of your face (if you have any, if you don't he rubs your back) "Are you ok? You can talk to me, you know? I love you"

This seems to trigger something in you, because instantly a flood of tears happens

This startles him, but he continues to comfort you nonetheless

He pulls you up and drapes your arms over his shoulders, while his go around your body, rubbing your back and head

He doesn't talk because he doesn't want to overwhelm you, so he silently rubs you and kisses you until your sobs turn into sniffles

"Let me take care of you tomorrow?" He asks, pulling away to look into your eyes

You pull him back into the hug and nod "please"

Jeff The Killer

Jeff doesn't really know how to deal with his own emotions, let alone someone else's

So when he sees you in a funk, he decides to just leave you alone and let you deal with it yourself, because he doesn't trust himself enough to actually help instead of hurt

But this of course, it seen as him leaving you in your time of need from your perspective

So this only makes matters worse, causing you to snap at others for small things, like when Toby accidentally bumps into you while you are on the way to get another snack

He of course, apologizes profusely, but it just isn't your day so you yell at him and tell him to be more careful next time

When Jeff gets home, Toby is talking about the incident with another creep

Not in a malicious way, but in a concerned way

This peaks Jeff's interest "What are you saying about my partner over there??"

"I'm just worried is all. They totally blew up after I accidentally bumped into them" Toby says, putting his hands up defensively

Jeff scoffs and rolls his eyes, already tired of the mood you're in

So he goes up to your room and walks in angrily saying "Why are you being such a dick? What'd Toby ever do to you?"

You don't feel like arguing, so you snuggle further into your bed

He laughs at this "Seriously? You're gonna ignore me? Listen dude, I don't know who you think you are but I really don't like this fucking color on you. Fix your attitude before I fix it for you" And with that he slams your door

Next day, you bump into each other in one of the hallways, and he tries to talk to you obviously seeing you still upset, but you push past him

Or at least try to

He quickly catches you and pins you against a wall "Just listen to me, won't you?!" he yells

This is all too much for you, so you begin to cry, bowing your head so maybe he won't see it

He softens at this, loosening his grip and looking at you confusedly "Why....why are you crying?"

"Why are you being so mean to me??" You ask as you sob

He sighs and brings you into a tight hug "Ok.....Ok tell me how long you've been upset"

"A long time!" You say truthfully "It's not even about Toby!"

"Why didn't you say anything??" He asks, cradling your head against his shoulder

You grip onto his chest and try to catch your breath before talking "Because you left and I thought you didn't want to see me!" You whine in a fast, high pitched voice

Despite this, he seems to catch every word "No, baby, baby....I always wanna see you I just didn't wanna hurt you...." He whispers into your head

"But you did!" You say into his shoulder

"I know....I'm sorry" He rubs your back a bit before kissing your head

"....really?" you sniffle

"Yeah" He pulls away and lifts your head to kiss your forehead, before pulling you back into the hug

You are quiet for a while, standing in the hallway and holding each other before you finally break the silence "it did feel good to cry"

He snorts and pulls away "Well I'm glad you liked it, because now I have snot and spit all over my hoodie"

You smile and kiss his nose "You love it"

Ben Drowned

Barely moving himself, he probably won't notice for a little bit

But when he does, he just assumes you're in a lazy mood, So he tries to snuggle up with you in bed

You flip over, avoiding his touch which makes him raise an eyebrow "Hey, you ok? It's cool if you just wanna be alone but this isn't like you"

"I'm fine" you say quickly

"....oookay.....do you want me to leave you alone?" He asks, his face changing from confused to concerned

You don't answer for a long while, but when you finally do you say "no"

"ok" he says simply, staying to his own side of the bed while he plays video games

Eventually, you begin to cry softly, and you flip back over to snuggle into his chest, wrapping your arms and legs around him like a koala

He looks at you for a moment before putting the game aside for a second and petting your head "I thought you said you were ok?"

You shake your head and cling harder

"Alright, c'mere" he says, pulling you up into his lap and putting your head in the crook of his neck

You try to hide your face away in his shoulder, but he grabs your chin before you get the chance "Hold still, I wanna kiss you" he says

With this, he kisses anywhere he can reach, eventually letting you drop your head back onto his shoulder while he grabs onto your arm and kisses from your shoulder all the way down to the tips of your fingers

Once he is done, he looks down at you, seeing that you are now only sniffling he uses a knuckle to wipe away any remaining tears "now are you ok?"

You nod and wrap your arms around his neck, kissing his cheek "Good. I like seeing you happy"

He then pecks your lips and hands you another controller, so that you can play the previously discarded game together

[xmasterofmunsonx]

Got Your Number

Summary: You’re Steve Harrington’s older sister and after a rough and tumultuous breakup, you’re back in Hawkins, Indiana.

Pairing: harrington!reader x Eddie Munson

Author’s notes: Potential S4 SPOILERS! For all intents and purposes of this story it’s September of 1986- Eddie is 21, almost 22, reader is 23. Post season 4, and the upside down did happen but we’re pretending the ending was how we are all talking ourselves into how it actually ended, aka Eddie lives. I started this story about 6 months ago after S4 ended, got extremely sick for a few months, and have had major writer's block over this fic because I was so unhappy with the rushed feeling of it. I hated how I’d thrown random details in there because I hadn’t thought it out well enough. So we’re taking our time the second time around- so if the storyline seems familiar, it is, it’s because it’s me rewriting my own story! Enjoy my rewrite and I appreciate any and all feedback as always ❤️

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI!!), language, drinking, mentions of past abusive relationship, possibly triggering bad mother/daughter relationship (comments about weight, looks, etc.), eventual smut/sexual relationship.

Word count: 7k+

I.

You groaned as you walked through the front door of your childhood home, the familiar smell bringing back memories of years past. Your slightly younger brother Steve had flown out to you to help you pack up and drive a moving truck to move back to Hawkins. You arrived back home to an empty house, which was nothing new to either of you. Your parents were due back from a business trip any moment now, and you actually weren’t too upset that they hadn’t arrived yet.

“You remember where your room is?” Steve joked as he plopped one of your suitcases down in the large foyer.

“Hasn’t been that long, Stevie.” You both rolled your eyes at each other and you grabbed the suitcase from him and traipsed upstairs.

Your room had looked the same since high school, the floral wallpaper only dulled over the last five years. You hadn’t been home much since you graduated in ‘82- you had moved away to the University of Chicago and graduated with your high school (not-so) sweetheart Charlie, who quickly became (even more of) a controlling, toxic boyfriend as soon as you were alone with him in the big city. He wasn’t always so controlling of what you did- he limited your trips home to Hawkins to strictly seeing his family only, or just skipping coming home for the holidays completely because he convinced you that your school load was too much for you. Things had gotten worse over the last year as he became increasingly more abusive and violent, and you had to get the cops involved and took out a restraining order against him.

You browsed around your room, not having many moments to yourself to look around the times you had been home and smiled at some of the high school memories that still hung on the walls in frames and in photos.

“I went ahead and trashed the ones of him so you didn’t have to see him anymore.” You turned around to meet the eyes of your brother who shared the same kind eyes as you- he hadn’t always been the same either. You both were kind of jerks throughout high school but you’d heard everything Steve had gone through when he confessed it all to you back in the spring. Scars littered his face, and you felt bad you hadn’t been home for him, but you had to be careful about leaving Charlie.

“Thanks. You can just leave everything else in the moving van, I’ll get the rest of my stuff out tomorrow and we can return the van.” You smiled at him and he dropped the bags you’d packed with your essentials and favorite clothes. You had too much stuff to fly back with, and it was only a three hour drive across the states to come back home. It gave the two of you plenty of time to talk in person, and you were shocked at how well the little town had been put back together after the “earthquake.”

Steve left you alone and you were quick to unpack, wanting to make sure your room felt like yours again as quickly as it could. You had some artwork from your apartment in Chicago you were itching to hang on the walls, but you were going to wait for that until another day.

“There you are!” Your moms screeching voice echoed through your room and you greeted her with a hug- one of the first ones in a year, and quickly gave your dad one too. Neither of them were happy about you and Charlie’s split, especially since you were due to be married in December, but once you spared the details of the relationship they were understanding and welcomed you back home to get back on your feet. Your mom used to be close with Charlie’s mom, and apparently still was, so you two had bickered a few times before moving back saying she needed to understand the severity of the situation and that you were to not have any contact with his family if you could help it.

Being a Harrington had a lot tied to it. You were one of the better known families in the town- your dad was a businessman who dealt in everyone’s business in the town, so in turn everyone knew your business too. You were the pride and joy since Steve had not made good enough grades to attend a better university, but now you knew it was because he was too busy fighting in an underworld dimension similar to that of your Dungeons and Dragons days.

That’s right- you used to be a nerd. Before you were graciously accepted onto the cheerleading squad your freshman year of high school, and welcomed into Hawkins High royalty, you’d been best friends with Eddie Munson, he was a grade behind you but the two of you were inseparable since you were young. The “freak” of the town as he was known now- but you hadn’t seen him since you left, and even before that you two hadn’t spoken much unless it was your old friends, saying mean things and pretending that you didn’t care about him. Your family name pressured you into becoming what you had- a scholar, a cheerleader, and one of the queens of the school. But all of that was behind you now. You barely scraped by your last year of college because of your horrible relationship, and you were back at home living at your semi-absent parents house. You knew they were disappointed in you, but they hadn’t exactly expressed that just yet.

“Dinner should be ready by 6, I’ve just got to throw a few things together.” Your mom told you, you knew she wanted you to come down and help her but after being in a car for three hours, that was the last thing you wanted to do. She excused herself with your dad and left you alone in your room again. You hung up a few dresses in your closet and came across your old cheerleading uniform that was still hanging in the back corner, untouched and still perfectly ironed. You scoffed as you pushed it further back, hating the memories tied to the article of clothing.

“Hey, we’re all going to watch movies tonight at Eddie’s house if you wanna come. Robin’s picking out a few from the store and I said we’d grab some beer on the way.” Hearing his name stopped you in your tracks. Steve had told you Eddie had been in on the Upside Down shenanigans in the spring- told you of how he had almost died, but the thought hadn’t crossed your mind that the two actually still hung out together even though Steve had mentioned it before. You felt sure Eddie wouldn’t want you there, not after how mean your friends had been to him in your four years of high school, so the suggestion made you feel odd about going over there.

“I uh- I hadn’t planned on seeing him, really. Does he know I’m back?” You pushed the empty suitcase underneath your bed and twisted a piece of brown hair around your finger nervously.

“Yeah, he knows. He seems… open to you coming over to hang out. And you need to meet and see everyone because they’re going to be your best friends too.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Pfft, who else do you have to hang out with?” You scoffed at his remark even though it was true. You had no desire to talk or see anyone from your past. Whether it was out of shame or anger, you were not really planning on rekindling any old high school friendships. Once you had some clarity of how much you had changed yourself to fit the Hawkins mold they wanted you to fit, you felt angry that you’d let your parents control that much of who you were despite how little they were actually involved in your life. “Right, so we’ll leave after dinner.” He patted your door frame twice before he trudged back to his room.

Dinner was awkward as expected, your parents were the worst at small talk and even worse at being comforting. You avoided talking about Charlie all together, thankfully, and your parents weren’t rushing you to search for a job anytime soon to give you a little bit of a break after school.

“So you’re going to the Munson’s house?” Your mom asked you with her eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, Robin picked out a few movies to watch like we do every Thursday.” Every Thursday? You eyed your brother and he averted his gaze to the candles in the middle of the table.

“So you see hi-them every week?”

“Week? More like every day. Those kids can’t get enough of Steve. He’s always chauffeuring them around town.” You’d heard about him and the “kids,” but you were still a little shocked to know that your brother was that good of friends with your old best friend who you were pretty sure hated you- he’d left that out.

“Always the babysitter.” Steve muttered to himself as he cleared his plate.

“Are you done yet, sweetie?” Your moms sticky voice chimed in as you looked at your food that you hadn’t yet finished, “you can come to some aerobic classes with me if you want so you can work off that college weight.”

“Yeah, I’m done.” You pushed your plate forward and got up, eating a few bites as you walked the plate to the sink. “Jesus Christ, now I remember why I hated coming home.”

“Yeah, they haven’t changed much. Don’t let it get to you. You look fine.” You knew you did, but your moms comments had always been so negative about your appearance and your weight. Steve definitely got the better metabolism of you two, and your mom tried to control your eating habits all throughout high school the best she could. Charlie was no help either, so when the two of you broke up you had sought therapy and had been working on your own eating habits since you were on your own for a few months after the breakup. It was freeing, so it was going to be hard to be under the watchful eyes of your mom again- when she was home. “C’mon, let’s grab some beer.” Steve grabbed the keys to his BMW and you followed him out, saying a quick goodbye to your parents.

“Fuck them.” You sighed as you buckled your seatbelt.

Steve agreed as he drove to the corner store and grabbed a pack of beer, driving to Eddie’s house.

“So, Eddie and Wayne’s trailer got destroyed in the uh, thing.” Steve haphazardly waved his hand in the air, “and Hawkins basically paid Eddie and Wayne to keep their mouth shut by giving them a new home.” He commented as he drove in a different direction than what you remember his old trailer being. Eddie hadn’t always lived with his uncle Wayne- his mom had died, and his dad was a felon and lost custody of him at a young age. You’d known him before he moved in with Wayne and stuck by him through all of the years he had trouble adjusting, and had grown close with Wayne since you were at their house so much.

You pulled up to a small brick house that looked much homier than the trailer they used to rent, and you could see amber lights glowing from the inside. You took a deep breath before you stepped out of the car and followed Steve to the front door, walking around a few other cars that were parked in the yard.

“He’s not mean and scary- you’ve got nothing to worry about. You’re the mean and scary one to him, remember?” Like you needed reminding- your plan for the night was to blend in and remain quiet, and go as unnoticed as possible.

“HARRINGTON!” The boy’s voice was unmistakable. It was deeper than you remember, but still somehow the same. He greeted your brother with a huge hug and you were unsure of what to do, so you quietly passed by the two guys and stepped foot into the kitchen hoping someone else was in there. Nancy, Jonathan, and Robin were all standing in the kitchen with beers already, and they greeted you similarly with big hugs and smiles. You’d known them through your brother and the few times you had been “allowed” back home.

“How was the drive?” Robin asked you as she took the beer from you and put it in the fridge, but not before you grabbed one for yourself and Steve.

“Not nearly as bad as dinner with my parents.”

“Ugh, I can’t imagine being stuck in a car with Steve for three hours. Working with him for that long is bad enough.” Robin remarked and you all laughed.

“Shut it, Buckley. We work 8 hour shifts together all the time.” Steve brushed through the kitchen to grab a drink for himself and you handed him his as Eddie peered around his shoulder.

“Hey there.” Eddie wiggled his fingers at you in a wave, and you hesitated before you walked over to him to give him a small hug.

“Hey.” Was all you said as he froze before he returned the hug, matching the lightness of the embrace you gave him. You noted that he still smelled the same, except you could smell weed and cigarettes on him now that he was older, and it seemed like he’d tried to cover the smell up a little with some cologne.

“So, I got a few different movie genres for us tonight, come on!” Robin broke the awkwardness and you jumped back from Eddie, avoiding his gaze and followed Robin into the living room where the rest of the kids were already lounging waiting for your arrival. You were introduced to everyone, a few you recognized and a few you didn’t. There was a large age gap, but you knew all their names from Steve’s storytelling, and a few from their faces when you’d been back home briefly.

You felt the tension in the air as you watched the people file into what you assumed were their normal seats until all that was left was a two seater leather chair. Eddie held out his hand for you to sit, “it’s usually mine, but you can take it tonight.” You sat down in it and took a few sips of your beer and motioned for him to sit down.

“I don’t bite, you can sit too.” You continued sipping your beer as the kids sorted through movies and finally decided on a horror film, and Eddie made himself comfortable beside you. You noticed he had tattoos and scars peering out from the sleeves of his Iron Maiden t-shirt as his arms rested comfortably at his sides beside you.

“Long time no see, Harrington.” He said as he shot you a charming smirk, and you were met with the same chocolate brown eyes as you remember from your childhood.

“Can say the same, Munson.” You brought the cold bottle up to your lips and finished off your first beer with a smirk. He grabbed the empty bottle from you and took it to the kitchen, and returned quickly with another one for you- already opened.

“Before the movie starts I’m going to step outside to partake in some real fun. You’re more than welcome to join, or you can stay inside- the choice is yours.” He invited you in his dramatic voice, and you chuckled to yourself as you followed him outside.

“Thought I smelled weed on you.” You muttered as you stepped out onto the back porch.

“Oh, you smoke now?” He smirked as he lit a joint and took a big hit before passing it to you.

You inhaled the weed into your lungs and held it there before you could even think of something to say to him. Do you apologize? Shoot the shit with him? You literally hadn’t spoken a kind word to him since freshman year, so this felt painfully uncomfortable for you to be out here. You were quickly regretting your decision to follow him.

“Yeaaaah.” You took another hit and held it in before passing it back to him. You watched as he propped himself against the porch railing and looked at you with his eyelids hooded, “Eddie, I don’t even know where to start.”

He held his hands out beside him, “I got all night to listen.”

“You’d want to?” You were shocked.

“I mean, I do believe- if I remember correctly, you owe me a bunch of apologies.” He seemed like he was unphased by your presence. You felt more intimidated by him than anything.

“Ha, yeah.” You sat down in one of the porch chairs, “Just so you know, first off, I’m really sorry for how much of a bitch I was to you.”

“Go on.” He motioned to you as he sipped his beer with a proud smirk on his face.

“And I totally understand if you hate me.”

“Well, I don’t, so…” He said through a chuckle.

“I don’t know what got into me in high school. I let myself be bullied into being a bully and I hate that you were one of the targets. You didn’t deserve that. I realized I was being who everyone else wanted me to be and not who I really was, and lost the people that actually cared about me the most. All of those friends were so fucking fake to me- and would you believe Charlie came home on a ‘work trip’ and cheated on me with Grace of all people?”

“I sure would. What a cunt.”

You let out a groan, “I can’t believe I wasted so many years with that jerk.”

“So, what’s your plan now that you’re back?”

You shrugged as you sipped on your drink, and held a hand up to the joint being passed back to you. “I guess just see what I can find to do here with a degree.”

“You always were such a smarty pants. I finally graduated, you know?”

“Yeah, Steve told me.” You leaned back in the chair and looked up at the night sky. “He actually told me everything. Like, about-“

“Oh shit, I didn’t know that.” Eddie moved to the seat beside you, a tiny table separating you two.

“I wanted to come back, and see you and make sure you were okay but Charlie wouldn’t let me. That was kind of the end of it all. I had to push through graduation, get a new place, and get enough evidence on him to get a restraining order against him before I could get all my stuff and go. You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to get one when you’re with someone like him.” You let out another scoff, “sorry- you didn’t need to hear that.”

“You can still talk to me.” He kindly smiled at you and you returned one to him.

“I was really nervous about coming here tonight. Thanks for not being a jerk, like I was.”

“I mean, you definitely hurt my feelings some but I knew that wasn’t really you. Been called a lot worse than freak.”

“I can’t believe the whole town thought you were a murderer? I mean- you?”

“You’re telling me. I still don’t know how Hopper convinced everyone it was Jason and got me cleared.”

“I just feel so bad I wasn’t here for everything going on, I always knew this place was cursed. How… bad off were you?”

Without saying a word, Eddie lifted his shirt up and showed you. You could see the scars in the dim light of the moon and the porch light, and you can only imagine the pain he’d been in recovering.

“Bats did that?”

“No, fucking demobats. They were huge. Had these long crazy tails, and I thought I could fight them off to save your brother and the others some time.” Eddie’s voice was not his usual expressive tone, he was more somber and serious.

“You did though.” You pulled your feet up into your seat and looked over at Eddie adjusting his tshirt back into place.

“Yeah, and barely made it out alive. I blacked out and woke up in Hopper’s cabin in the woods. Couldn’t get real help in the hospital because I was wanted for murder still, somehow avoided infection and am left with these killer scars.”

“Pretty badass looking if you ask me.” You said, feeling the beer and weed loosening you up a little bit.

“Eh, I had to take a break from playing for a little. But we’re back at the Hideout now - we got moved to Saturday nights since we draw such a crowd now. It used to be Tuesday.”

“Yeah, I remember.” You said quickly.

“Do you?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“Just because I was a jerk to you didn’t mean I didn’t know anything about you Eddie. You were my best friend. I kept some tabs on you even though I was in a different crowd. I snuck into a few shows my senior year and hung out in the back.” You blushed at the admittance. “What year was that for you? How did they even let you guys play so young?”

“We were just that good, sweetheart.” He let the nickname roll off his young so easily it caught you by surprise. Wayne used to call you that and you readjusted in your seat at Eddie using the endearing name for you.

“So you’ll be playing this Saturday?”

“Mhm. Got Hellfire Club tomorrow night at the record store.”

“What?! You still play?!”

“Still play? I’m the dungeon master. We have club every week at the record store on Friday nights. I kinda run the store now. Like, uh, that’s my job. I manage it and teach guitar lessons. Just started lessons about two months ago and my afternoons are booked solid.” He was beaming with pride and excitement when he met your eyes.

“That’s amazing. Can I come by? It’s been a while so I might just watch, but I won’t get in the way.”

“Absolutely.” He squeezed his eyebrows together. “You’re welcome Saturday night too.”

“Ah, I may be booked. Have a lot of friends to reconnect with, you know?” You both laughed at your sarcasm and let the silence become comfortable as you both looked around at the quiet piece of land Eddie’s house was on. “Thanks again for not being a jerk. I really do deserve it.”

“No, you don’t. I appreciate the apologies and I missed having you around. Steve’s not my favorite Harrington, believe it or not.”

“I still am?”

“No, your mom is.” He said with a serious expression before he busted out laughing at the shocked look on your face. “Just kidding. I’m willing to put the past aside if it means I can have my friend back. I know a lot of things are different now, but I don’t think you need to be alone right now, you could use a friend, yeah?”

“More than you know. Thank you, Eddie.” You reached out and grabbed his hand, giving it a soft squeeze.

“Wanna join them or just stay out here all night?”

“Honestly I wouldn’t mind staying out here if that’s alright with you.” You spoke quietly as you crossed your arms, the September chill was setting in but you were not going to ask for a blanket, and you were too comfortable to get up.

“I’ll grab us another drink and blanket and we can just stay out here? Don’t go anywhere.” He held his hands out for you to stay put and you laughed at his silliness, his welcoming personality hadn’t changed much and it was just what you needed tonight.

He returned moments later, “your blanket, my kind lady.” He draped the warm fleece over your lap and you thanked him as he opened the beer bottle for you.

You and Eddie spent two hours together talking and laughing, sharing stories and filling in puzzle pieces where your lives had gone different paths. As the night came to an end you realized you weren’t so mad about having to come back home, and you were glad your path had crossed Eddie’s once again.

-

“So, seems like you two got along pretty well last night.” Steve said as he drove you back home from dropping off the van you had rented.

“Yeah, I guess. He said he’s going to pick me up before Hellfire tonight so we can go get dinner before the game.”

“I’ve got a date tonight, so you think he can bring you back home too? I might be gone all night, who knows.”

You shrugged at your brother, “Probably so. I don’t see why that would be a problem.” You two walked into your house together, the echo of the door shutting could be heard throughout the house. Your parents had already left to go out of town on another business trip, too busy to stay back and spend any time with you - but you honestly weren’t even bothered. It was a relief to know you wouldn’t have to hear their remarks about anything.

The hours passed quickly leading up to the time when Eddie said he’d pick you up, and you heard the front door squeak open and closed again. Heavy footsteps were heard going up the stairs and you tried to pretend like you were still getting ready when Eddie knocked on your doorframe.

“Safe to come in?” He asked, pushing the door open to look inside.

“Wouldn’t matter, you’re already opening the door. Just finishing up getting ready, then I’ll be ready to go. Steve’s in his room if you wanna go talk to him.” You pointed to his room and Eddie stepped inside of your room instead.

“Nah, I’m here to see you.” He walked around your room with his hands on his hips, looking at all of your old posters and pictures that remained on the walls. All of the ones with him in them had been replaced by ones with your high school friends- the fake ones.

“I’m going to get around to taking those down. I don’t need any reminders of the past, Steve already took down the ones with Charlie.” He nodded quietly as he inspected each of them like he’d never seen them before- which, come to think of it, he probably hadn’t.

“You really changed, huh?” He said as he admired your senior prom picture with the group of varsity cheerleaders. You had worn a hot pink dress and your hair was teased to the high heavens. “You look uh, more like yourself tonight.” He motioned to your outfit- some light wash jeans and a fitted black tshirt. You had found an old black denim jacket of Steve’s so you had decided it was now yours since he decided to store it in your closet.

“Feel more like myself now too. You ready to go?” You touched up your light layer of lip gloss as you stood up from your vanity, and little to your knowledge but Eddie had to recollect his thoughts before he could answer.

“Born ready. Let’s go eat. Diner or pizza?”

“Like that’s even a question. Diner.” You said with a smile as you followed the tall boy with crazy, curly hair out of your room.

-

After you two finished your greasy burgers and fries, you walked to the old record shop. It had survived the town splitting in half, but barely, and it had been repainted black instead of the old ugly brick it used to be. Eddie unlocked the front door, turned the lights on and held his hands out to welcome you to the store.

“Welcome, welcome. If I may be of any assistance to any record purchases, I’m available for help. If not, I’m going to be in the back setting up for tonight. If any of the kids walk in, just send them back here.” You nodded as you found yourself picking through the labels of the records. They’d been nearly categorized by genre, then alphabetical order. You browsed while you heard Eddie rummaging around in the back room, and decided to go watch him.

He didn’t notice you had walked in the room, and you were all but mesmerized by the way he was neatly unpacking and setting up the game table for tonight in the spacious back room. He was talking to himself and checking things off his checklist in his mind, and you thought it was endearing how much thought he was putting into the set up. It had become a lot more complex from when the two of you had first started playing as kids.

“Like what you see?” His voice caught you off guard and you shook yourself out of your trance and walked further into the room. “Wanna join in?”

You shook your head as you felt your ponytail bounce, “no, I’m fine just watching tonight. Maybe another time.”

“Beer’s in the fridge, grab me one too.” He asked and smiled at you as you fetched the beverages for yourselves. He was moving chairs all around, and added one to beside the one at the head of the table, “you can be assistant to the DM tonight- how’s that sound?”

“Perfect.” You sipped on the cold beer and smiled as he handed you the plan for tonight’s game, and you read over the pages containing gameplay details that you hadn’t thought about in years. You looked up from the papers to find Eddie staring at you, and it was his turn to blush- except he held eye contact with you and didn’t look away, which made you blush harder than him.

You didn’t know why Eddie was being so kind to you. He had let you back into his circle again, no questions asked and no hard feelings that you knew of.

“What?” You asked, the room was quiet and he was still staring at you.

“Nothing, it’s nothing.” He shook his curly head of hair and proceeded to go to the front of the store to wait on everyone’s arrival.

One by one the kids all arrived and you were happy to see Jeff and Gareth too- they were hesitant to greet you, but one look at Eddie and they knew you weren’t there for the wrong reason.

You took your seat beside Eddie at the head of the table and listened as he told them about the new campaign they were starting tonight. You were captivated by his deep voice and his animated actions as he told the details of the storyline. He plopped back in his seat as he watched everyone around the table decide on their first move. He had one of those full face smiles on- the type that reached the crinkles in his eyes, and you realized he’d always had those, but they were much deeper now than you remembered.

“This one’s gonna be good.” He turned to you and you nodded, “you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just glad to be back. Feels a little weird.”

His hand patted your thigh with what felt like searing heat, and he rested it there for a few seconds, “Relax. I already told you that it’s all okay. We’re starting fresh, but not really, like we talked about last night, m’kay?” You nodded, and he lightly squeezed your thigh before releasing it and turning back to the table.

The game went on for hours, you were so entertained by the enthusiasm of the kids and Eddie, it was really a heartwarming night for you after the previous night had started off a little awkward and rocky. It honestly felt like so many years had passed.

“You seemed like you were having fun.” Eddie said as he started up his van.

“It was fun to watch again, I seriously don’t think I've played since… well, since I made the cheerleading squad for freshman year.”

“That’s a damn shame. You were always the best.”

“No way! I was only decent. I sucked at cheerleading. I only made it because my parents funded the school’s athletic programs, paving the way for me and Steve to be successful.” You joked, picking at the rips in your jeans. “Thanks for picking me up and taking me home tonight, I really appreciate it. I had fun, the record store looks amazing too.”

You watched Eddie’s face blush pink, “Not a problem. It’s uh, it’s been nice seeing you again.”

“Yeah, it has.” You looked out the window and watched as your surroundings became more familiar the closer you got to your house. The rest of the ride was silent except for Eddie’s radio playing Metallica in the background, and his thumbs drumming along to the beat of every song. When you pulled up, your driveway was empty. You had assumed Steve’s date had gone well. “You wanna come inside and hang for a bit? Steve’s on a date, my parents are on another work trip, and I’m not feeling like being alone in the big house. If you need to get home, I understand it’s late but-”

“I’ll come in. I’ve got nowhere else to be. Wayne’s working tonight.” Eddie turned the ignition off as he parked on the street in front of your house, and you waited for him to round the front before you walked in together.

“Help yourself to a beer if you want another one, dad’s got plenty in the fridge. I’m going to head upstairs and change into pajamas and I’ll be back down.” He gave you a thumbs up and you heard the fridge door rattle as you made it up to your bedroom. You changed into an old pair of shorts and oversized shirt, headed downstairs, and found Eddie had settled onto the large leather couch in the living room with the tv on. The clock read 1:30, but you weren’t feeling too tired.

“Think Steve will make it back tonight?” He asked without looking up from the screen.

“No idea. It’s still early, I don’t know what he can find to do in Hawkins this late but more power to him if he’s out there.” You said as you sat down on the opposite end of the couch, pulling a blanket over your lap. He’d settled on some movie and you were paying attention to it, when he nudged you with his beer bottle and you took it without question and had a few sips, then handed it back to him.

“What’s going on in that head?” He turned to face you and you sighed.

“Not much, honestly. I feel defeated to be back here. There isn’t much here, no offense, and I didn’t see myself ending up here again. But here I am.” You sighed again, a little anger appearing in your chest, “I’m just so mad at Charlie, you know?”

“Are you mad at Charlie, or mad at yourself?”

You shot your eyes at Eddie and gave him a look. “I-I’m mad at…him. He was a piece of shit, Eddie. Everyone warned me. Well, not everyone. But Steve did. You didn’t like him. None of the people with a single brain cell or more liked the guy. I can’t believe we were engaged.” You shivered as if you were grossed out at the thought.

“Engaged?! I didn’t know it was that serious.” He took a swig from the beer.

“I mean, I moved to Chicago for him. School was just… the excuse. I was pretty serious about him, we were supposed to get married in December but I called it off in the spring. ‘Good’ family, reputation, all that shit my mom cares about.”

“But nothing that you care about.” Eddie finished your thought.

“Bingo.” You said as you scooted closer, grabbing the beer from him. “I don’t even know what I care about anymore now that I’m out of the relationship and that shitty situation.”

“A shituation is what I like to call that.” You busted out laughing at Eddie’s joke and it felt good to let go and laugh like that. You hadn’t in a while. Well, you had last night but that was several beers in so you would’ve laughed at almost anything.

“You asked me what my plans were, what are yours?” You turned the subject around on Eddie.

He shrugged, “I hope the band takes off soon. It’s taken me a while to recover from… everything. I still haven’t really come to terms with all of it, so it’s hard to think too far into the future.”

“That’s fair.” You stole the beer and took a sip, then handed it back to him. “What about you and the ladies?”

He scoffed and threw his head back “I mean, it took me three years to finish high school, I play D&D in the breakroom of the music store weekly with kids that still go to high school, I play in a metal band, and my body is covered in scars. Doing really great for myself in that department, Harrington.”

You felt bad for asking as he finished off the beer and got up to grab another, but you genuinely had no idea. After you moved, you hadn’t heard much about Eddie so you really didn’t know. He reappeared with two more and offered one to you with raised eyebrows, and you took it. When he sat down, he was a few inches closer to you and you could feel the warmth of his legs against yours.

“Sorry, I-”

“You didn’t know. It’s okay.” He seemed to have calmed down quickly, but you still felt bad. “There’s been a few, but nothing serious. Not really much to offer here.” You wanted to say there was because you knew Eddie better than most did, but you kept your mouth shut and moved on.

“I can’t believe that there was just this whole other world below Hawkins this whole time… and none of us knew it.” You stared at the coffee table in front of you. “I wish I-”

“No, no, no. Don’t you say you wish you could’ve been here.” Eddie was getting riled up as he readjusted on the couch, “I wouldn't have wished what I saw on anyone. Especially you.”

“No, I mean, I just hate that I left here without any care. I just wish Steve would’ve told me that it was going on.”

“Probably scared you would’ve tried to come back. Harrington's love to try to be the hero, you know that?”

“Yeah, yeah. So I’ve been told.” You let out a scoff as you rolled your eyes.

“Jesus, you two are so much alike.” Eddie commented and you hadn’t realized he was staring at you. “Such an attitude on both of you.”

“Oh, yeah?” You challenged him.

“Yeah.” Eddie tucked a leg under him and turned to face you, scooting even closer. “Big ole heads full of pretty hair, ego, and a whole lot of attitude that comes along with it.” He reached out to push a few pieces of hair behind your ear that had fallen out of your ponytail throughout the day, and drug his thumb across the edge of your jawline.

“But my hair is prettier, right?” You asked quietly, feeling the nerve to see what you could get away with.

“Oh, absolutely. Everything about you is prettier.” His hand lingered on your jaw and he quickly drew it back at the sound of a car door slamming shut outside. He kept his eye contact with you, as if he were timing exactly how long it would take for Steve to walk through the front door and he was spot on as he jumped back and sunk into the couch as if you two had been sitting feet apart the whole night.

“How was your night, Stevie?” He asked with a smirk as Steve shut the door.

“What are you doing here so late, Munson?” Steve asked, annoyed at the presence of his friend.

“Just keeping me company since this house is so empty. Stole a few of dad’s beers, I don’t think he’ll mind.”

He looked between the two of you before he scoffed and rolled his eyes, “I’m going to bed. ‘Night.”

“There’s that Harrington attitude we all love!” Eddie yelled up the stairs and Steve held up his middle finger in response. “I think I’ll head out now.” He announced as he stood up and stretched, his shirt rising a bit above his plaid boxers you’d already spotted a few times tonight during the game.

“See you tomorrow night?” You asked as you walked him to the door.

“Yeah? I’ll pick you up again if you want. I don’t think you want to go there by yourself. Usually Buckley and your brother show up at some point but who knows with the stick he’s got up his ass tonight if he’ll come tomorrow.”

“Sounds good. What time? I’m free…” you looked at your watch, “all day.”

“Well, some of us are contributing members to society now and have jobs so, I’ll come pick you up when I’m off at 2?” You blushed, realizing how eager you were seeming to see him. “Can’t get enough of me, can you?”

“Yeah, uh, two sounds great.” You stuttered out.

“Perfect. We have practice at Gareth’s before, I can have them move it to 3 so I can have time to get you.” Eddie seemed unphased by your nervousness, or at least he was playing it cool and not pointing it out.

“See you then, Munson.” You waved him off and watched him walk to his van.

“Later, Harrington.” He yelled out without looking back at you, just giving a wave to the air.

You shut the large wood door and collapsed your back against it, closing your eyes and sighing. “Fuck.” You were screwed. Since when did you feel like this about Eddie? How did you feel about him? Why did he make you blush, and so nervous?

“No game, big sis. No game at all.” Steve spoke from the top of the stairs.

“Oh my God, Steve. Go away!”

“You’ve got a crush. A big one. Don’t you?”

“Steve!” You yelled his name after you locked the front door and turned the lights off, Eddie’s grumbling van could no longer be heard outside. “I do not.”

“Do too. And he does too.” He pointed at the closed door, “He always has. You’re just blind.”

“What?” You felt like the air was gone from your lungs.

“Uh, yeah?” He raised his eyebrows as you walked up the stairs to your bedroom and where Steve was perched. “I read your old diaries while you were gone. There’s way too much in those about Eddie for you to not have a crush on him. And he, get a couple more beers in him and my God, the boy will not shut up about you. He was non-stop talking and asking questions about when you were gonna be back and what you would be doing and-”

“Okay, chatty Cathy. I get it. But I don’t have a crush on him.” You pushed past him and made it to your bedroom, “How was your date?”

“Not answering that until you confess your crush on Munson. Night, sis.” Steve shut his bedroom door before you could say anything and you followed suit, your hands immediately reaching to feel the blush in your cheeks.

Maybe you did. But that was fast, or was it?

[five-bi-five-mind]

Maya and reader were together for 2 and a half years before Maya lost her job as captain of station 19, and reader broke up with her due to Maya's distance and behaviour toward the team and reader. reader than transfers to another firehouse, Maya goes through therapy and turns down the captain position and fights to get reader back.

I Wish I Was the Moon

Fandom: Station 19

Pairing: Maya Bishop x fem!reader

Words: 9.7k+

Genre: Angst, Hurt & Comfort, Smut

Summary: Maya hit rock bottom and along the way she lost the most important thing to her. It wasn't captain, she realized that quickly into her downward spiral. No, it was you. She had to do something to fix this, but she knew it started with herself. Would Maya be able to fix herself in time to win you back? Would you ever be willing to give her just one more chance?

Warnings: Alcohol mention; toxic relationship-ish depiction; mental health and therapy is a big theme; fingering (r!receiving); top!Maya, bottom!r; nipple play; marking.

A/N: Okay, this isn't exactly the same as the prompt so bear with me... but it's really close. Also did I put my own twist on an existing scene? Yes, yes I did. Also, the fic is named after the song with the same name that gave me inspiration. It's by Ewan J Phillips. Maybe listen while you read!

Maya was doing better. She really was. It was the first time she could say that in months, maybe even years. She was working on herself, she was putting in the effort. 

Therapy had a lot to do with this. From regular sessions came the ability to regulate her emotions when things felt too intense. It helped her process trauma, not just the trauma she experienced as an adult either, but childhood trauma too. It shocked her, how healing it could be to process everything. It was hard to really fully come to terms with all of it. Memories that she had hurt, but she didn’t have a word for why. Now it felt less painful since she finally understood herself and what had happened throughout her life. 

Of course, therapy itself was something she was originally reluctant to do. It was something she was too headstrong to think she needed it, until she finally tried. She didn’t try for her though. No, if she was being honest, what got her to first make an appointment and then— after three cancellations —to finally show up, was you. 

When you left, Maya told herself she didn’t need anyone, didn’t need you. That quickly became obvious to her that she was seriously lying to herself. You left because she pushed you away when she lost her position as captain. She became irritable when you asked for her to be more open. This irritability led to fights and fights led you to distance yourself from her eventually too. Then, after one night of fighting back and forth, you left to cool off. When you came back in, Maya rounded on you without skipping a beat. That was the last straw for you. 

Maya still winced at the thought of the words that left her mouth that night. Accusing you of cheating, that the space you were taking was just to fuck someone new. She had thrown in your face that you two weren’t fucking, so it only made logical sense that you were out finding someone else. Of course, the words Maya used were more colorful.

She could still see the hurt in your eyes when she said them. She still remembered the way you didn’t yell back, instead you just stood utterly silent. The next thing she knew, you were packing up your things and officially moved out of her apartment. 

The weeks to come, Maya didn’t run after you. She didn’t try to call or talk or anything. Maya had foolishly convinced herself that you needed her more than she needed you; that you’d be back. She wasn’t going to call first. You had to. But you didn’t and it made Maya spiral even more. Things got worse for her. At work it was a constant reminder of her loss of captain. At  home, her apartment reminded her too much of her loss of you. So, she went out to bars in the evenings often. A little too often. 

That drinking led to bad decisions. One particular night was definitely her rock bottom. She had decided to call you. Drunk off her ass and angry she was stumbling into a dark apartment without you had her thinking irrationally. Her hands moved before her mind really comprehend what she was doing. Maya saw your name on the screen and immediately hit call. 

“You just gave up,” she slurred into the phone the minute she heard your tired, confused greeting from the other line. “How could you just give up?”

“M… Maya?” Your voice sounded exhausted. Somewhere in Maya’s drunken brain she knew she shouldn’t be calling you at 2AM, but at that moment she didn’t care. 

“You left and now I come home to nothing,” Maya pressed. “I lost… I lost my dreams and then— then you left me. You gave up on us. What was it? Because you’re ashamed I got demoted?”

“Maya, I did not give up on us.” Your voice sounded clearer now and Maya’s mouth snapped shut at the frustration she heard on the other end of the line. “You pushed me away. You forced me to leave.” 

“That- I-“ Maya was at a loss for words. The way you sounded, it wasn’t broken like Maya had thought, it wasn’t sad. It was angry. In those few words, drunk or not, Maya knew you were absolutely right. 

A sigh came from the other end and Maya turned her attention to her phone again. “Look, Maya, are you okay? Are you home?” You didn’t have to be there to know she was very much not sober. She might have made the last few months with her hell, but you still cared. You couldn’t just easily erase the history you had with her or turn off your feelings. 

“I’m… yes, I’m home.” Maya couldn’t think of anything else to say. Her hand dropped and her phone slid from her palm onto the couch. Her thumb tapped the screen to hang up and then she just sat there. Her mind spun from your words and from the alcohol. Even in her inebriated state, she knew from your tone of voice, just how hurt you were by her. 

The day after was no easier. She had curled up on the couch that night, not bothering to change or move before she passed out. There was a small hope in her drunken mind that she would forget those devastating words you said, but of course she didn’t. They replayed in her mind from the moment she woke up and nursed her hangover to the minute she went to bed. 

It was after that night that she decided to fix herself. You never called to follow up. Your silence was something that Maya knew she deserved, but still wished was otherwise. So, Maya became determined. She would fix this, but it started with her. No more drunken calls, no more lashing out. The next time she saw you, she’d prove she was a better version of herself, one that deserved your love again. 

Logically, Maya realized this transformation wouldn’t happen over night. There were times where she wanted to be impatient and reach out. Her therapist worked with her on this though, advising her to wait until she was sure she was ready. Therapy helped her be honest with herself, and so many times she wanted to see you, but she knew she wasn’t ready.

Until she finally was. She had discussed this in detail with her therapist. There was a plan being made, one she was eager to implement. Months had gone by, so this wouldn’t be easy. But Maya had a newfound passion and knew that this new outlook, this better version of Maya, wasn’t complete until she had her love back in her arms. 

So, she planned to show up at your door. Flowers in hand, ready to beg on her knees for you to hear her out for even just one minute. She knew she didn’t deserve that for what she put you through, but she was willing to try. She had to try. From the moment she met you, she felt like you and her were meant to be. When she finally was to enact her plan, it had to go well. But things really never are that simple. 

Running into you totally disarmed her. You looked vibrant. The last time she saw you, like really saw you, you were just so… broken. She knew, deep down, that she did that to you. But now… Now you’re glowing, you’re thriving and it made her disgusted with herself. All these negative feelings that she had worked through for months suddenly bubbled to the surface the minute her eyes landed on your face. 

There you were, on the other side of the cafe Maya had stopped at, smiling at someone she didn’t recognize. How much time really has passed? Maya knew it had been months, but she was trying not to dwell and count. Apparently enough time had passed for you to move on. At least that’s what it looked like. Obviously, you would move on from her. Maya knew, realistically, you had every right to move on, but she hoped you’d wait for her to right her wrongs. God how she hoped. 

But clearly, you didn’t. Maya treated you like shit so you left. It made sense. You gave her chance after chance after chance, of course there would be a breaking point. Of course, there would be a process that Maya didn’t see where you would pick yourself up from the wreckage she left you in and find someone else who would give you all the things Maya promised. The reality of it was that Maya failed to follow through on every single thing she said to you. Well, all but one. She told you she would never stop loving you. This promise happened once on a night when she held you tight and was scared you’d slip through her fingers. She remembered the ways your breath hitched and your eyes shone as she looked down at your face in the moonlight and made that promise. 

She remembered that promise so vividly. When the storm was coming down hard and you both listened with the window open, wrapped in each other’s arms. The setting was quiet, calming even despite the thunder booming outside. The feeling of you wrapped in her arms warmed her heart and she had never felt more complete than in that moment, so she said, “There’s never been someone I loved more completely than you.” You looked up at her with wide eyes filled with the most hopeful emotions. Then she followed “And I promise, that won’t ever change.” And it didn’t. Even if you didn’t look at her the same way, or at all now, she still loved you with her entire heart. Despite all the ugliness of your last few months together, it still was the truest feeling she’s ever had. Each night she laid down in an empty bed she ached for not just another body next to her, because that wouldn’t suffice. No, she ached for you and you alone. 

When Maya saw you, you didn’t see her. She had decided she needed to get out of there as fast as possible. After her order had come out, she snatched her coffee as fast as she possibly could. Her head stayed turned from you as she made her way past your table and to the exit. Of course, she was trying so hard to avoid your gaze that she didn’t pay attention to where she was going.

She fully bumped into another random man, her coffee falling to the floor and spilling all over the place. Apology after apology flew from her lips as she still tried to keep her head down and clean up her mess. When she popped back up with a handful of coffee soaked napkins though, that’s when her eyes met yours.

You were shocked, staring back at her with eyes wide. “Maya?” Your voice was full of surprise and not resentment, which relieved Maya for a second. But then your eyes flicked to the confused person next to you and Maya’s eyes followed before landing back on your face.

The look you gave her next killed her. It was a look of guilt and pity. One that crushed Maya’s heart into a million pieces. So, she fled. 

If you had followed her, Maya didn’t notice. She walked with as much speed as she could without breaking into a full blown sprint. Her eyes stung, but she refused to cry. 

This whole encounter threw off everything for her. She had to rethink everything she planned. Was it still possible to win you back? Was it too late? Should she even try?

Those were all the questions she flung at her therapist the moment she sat down for her next session. What she was reminded of was that she had no answers for what was going on and who she saw with you. Therefore, she had no answers for the previous questions she posed. 

The new plan was still to reach out, but be more casual about it. Ask for coffee and discuss all the ways you may have changed and how Maya had been doing. Focus on you first and then perhaps Maya can move onto her proposal to restart. This plan positioned herself so that she could learn who that person was and what the situation might be before putting her heart right on the line. 

She wasn’t ready for all of that just yet though. There was a greater potential for rejection now. Maya told herself she was too scared to know the truth so she would wait a bit longer. Even if waiting was knowing she could possibly be pushing you closer to this mysterious person, she just couldn’t muster up the courage. But, much like the coffee shop incident, life had other plans. 

In the months you two had been apart, Maya hadn’t run into you at all. Now, suddenly, she bumps into you two weeks in a row before she was really ready to. It was like some kind of cosmic cruel joke. 

Again, when she saw you, she felt utterly disarmed. She was just trying to enjoy a nice run when she ran straight up to you. Not intentionally, of course, she was off in her own little world. Her mind was wrapped up in you, so to hear your voice say her name as she passed had her utterly freeze in shock.

“Hi…” Maya said hesitantly as she turned to see your face staring back at her. This time, thankfully, you appeared to be alone.

“Hi.” Your voice had just as much hesitation as hers. “How… um, how are you?”

“Good,” Maya nodded, trying to catch her breath and calm her heart rate. She didn’t think it was the run that was elevating it. “Yeah, I’m good.” And it was true to an extent, even if she was internally panicking.

She hadn’t thought it would go this awkward. Maybe it was naive, but she assumed everything would just… click when she was one-on-one with you again. But instead, you were anxious and she was tense. 

Maya took a deep breath, remembering the exercises given to her in her sessions. It helped ground her and get her bearings. “How are you?” Maya finally managed to ask after a long, awkward pause. 

“I’m okay.” If there was one thing Maya knew, it was how to read your eyes. Your tone sounded fine, but that answer didn’t reach your eyes. In fact, as Maya looked on at your face, she thought you looked tired. Maybe even quite a bit sad. She wondered if she read you wrong at the coffee shop. If maybe you weren’t as happy as you seemed. Did your smile reach your eyes that day? Maya was too taken aback by suddenly seeing you that she didn’t pay much attention then. 

“Yeah?” Maya questioned. 

You nodded and for a moment that awkward pause was back. “Maya, about the other day…” you finally broke the silence.

“You don’t need to explain.”

“Yeah, but— I don’t know, I feel like I should.” Your voice got quieter as you spoke and Maya shook her head. She offered you a sad smile and more guilt washed over you. 

“You don’t owe me an explanation.” Maya honestly hoped you wouldn’t give one. Not yet, she still wasn’t ready to hear it yet. “It’s okay really.”

But then, as you both stood, shuffling awkwardly and trying to find the right words, or any words for that matter, Maya felt the nagging curiosity bubble up in her. Maybe if she did ask, it would be better now than later. She could rip off the bandaid. She didn’t want details, but she just wanted to know. It could determine if there was hope. If she had a reason to hold on to it; to you. So, she asked the scariest, but most simple question to end this internal debate that she could think of.

“Is it serious?” Maya tried to play it off as a casual question, but deep down the answer you would give her would hold an important weight in her heart that you were entirely unaware of.

“No,” you gave her a small, sad smile. “We just met that day.” 

Maya couldn’t help herself, she really couldn’t. She had to know. As much as your answers could rip her heart right out, she just had to. “Has there been anyone serious?” 

“No, Maya,” you sighed. It wasn’t a sigh of frustration, but one that sounded just so disheartening to Maya’s ears. “Not since…”

“Me,” Maya finished. 

You just nodded in a response. The look on your face said it all. The pain was still right there on the surface. There’s a discomfort between you two. Things were still broken. Of course they would be, Maya thought. It’s not like you two tried to talk after you walked out. She just let you walk away and she was sure you probably held that against her even today. You two didn’t try to be friends, you didn’t try to be anything after it all went down. It was just radio silence apart from that drunken night. But Maya could feel that there was still so much left unsaid. It wasn’t just her that wanted to talk, but she could see in your eyes that you did too. If you didn’t, you could’ve just walked on. Yet, you stayed. It was awkward and public, but you still stood in front of her, shuffling your feet, as you waited for more words to come. So a talk was definitely necessary and obviously overdue. The question is, would you be willing to actually sit down and talk with her?

She had to try, right? You were, well, you. The person on Maya’s mind every single day even if you weren’t currently in her life. Her greatest love that still held all of her heart. She had to try. 

“Could we… I don’t know.” Maya was really struggling to get these words out there. No matter how many times she practiced this in her head after running into you, doing it was harder. She had to be brave though. She knew this moment wouldn’t come again for a long time. It had been so long since she saw you. Last week didn’t count, this meeting was different; face-to-face. A rare coincidence that suddenly presented her with so many options. What would happen if she let this chance pass her by? When would it come next? Would that girl you were with still be nothing serious? Maya couldn’t risk that. “Could we maybe grab dinner sometime?”

“Why?” It wasn’t a harsh question. You weren’t being defensive when you asked, but you were being cautious. Maya understood that and honestly she appreciated it even. But the question still took her aback.

“I just- I think we should talk.” Maya searched your eyes for any type of negativity to her request. She was really putting herself on the line. Not just with asking you to talk, but actually telling you that she was willing to. And talk she would. She would say everything that was left unsaid and she would let you say what you needed to say too of course. Maya could show you that she’s different, that she’s better, that she changed. Maybe then you’d give her just one last chance. She had no right to ask you for any more, not when so much time had passed. But god fucking dammit she wanted you back so badly. 

“I’ve been seeing a therapist and working on myself,” Maya continued. “I just want the chance to— to show you how far I’ve come.” The mention of therapy shocked you. It was something you asked her to consider, but all you were met with was a scoff. As your eyes searched Maya’s face, you realized how sincere she was. She seemed to be very honest about her claims. 

You wished you could relate. That you could say you worked on yourself in the time you two were apart. Truthfully, when Maya saw you it was the first time you decided to stop drowning in your heartbreak and find someone new. The sight of Maya that day had ruined that resolve.

Secretly, after that day, you hoped to see her again. Part of you wished she would call, but she didn’t. If you called, you felt like that was betraying every promise you made to yourself after leaving her. She needed to change to make it work, to stop hurting you, but you were scared she wasn’t capable of that.

So, you didn’t call. But when you saw her running towards you, on a route you knew she took, you couldn’t stop yourself from stopping her. Part of you still felt shocked to see her again, but really it was you lying to yourself. There was a strong chance you’d see her, and you knew that. You told yourself you needed the walk for fresh air, but there was more to it. The need to just talk to her, for even a moment, was too great. You wanted to know how she was doing, if she was okay. That drunken call still ran through your head and made you sick with worry.

When you saw her at the cafe, though, you thought she looked good. There was an inkling of hope, which is why you found yourself here trying to “accidentally” bump into her. And it all played out how you wanted.

But then she wanted dinner and to actually talk and you realized you were playing a dangerous game. If she hurt you all over again, honestly you didn’t think you could survive it. All you’ve done for months is lay in an unfamiliar, empty apartment you managed to find when you left. It didn’t feel like home, it felt depressing. You were sufficating in your heartbreak and just starting to pick up the pieces. If she was lying to get you back, only to treat you so badly again, it would destroy you for good this time.

“I don’t know…” Your eyes fell as you tried to find the right words to let her down.

“Just one dinner and then, if you want, you never have to hear from me again.” Maya’s plea had squeezed at your heart. The moment you made the mistake of looking back up at her, your resolve broke. She was so hopeful and yet so scared at the same time. “Just one dinner,” She repeated and you shocked yourself when you nodded in agreement. 

“One,” you whispered. 

“Good.” Maya’s smile was hesitant, but her eyes sparkled as she realized you were giving her a chance. Maybe it wasn’t a chance to get back together and make up for all the pain Maya caused, but it was a start. “This weekend, let’s go to that Italian restaurant… the one you love so much.” 

You knew the exact one. Maya wasn’t subtle. It was your first date, which is possibly why it was your favorite place. It was romantic and intimate. A good place to talk, but also a good place to get lost in Maya’s presence and lose your resolve even more. 

Still you couldn’t help but agree. “I’ll meet you there.” You knew if you drove there at least you wouldn’t be going home with her even if you wanted to. Maya nodded, giving you her most charming smile that used to make you swoon. It still did, if you were being completely honest. 

Your smile was nervous as you returned it, but still there was a flutter in your stomach that you hadn’t felt in a long time. The last time was before Maya got demoted, when that bright smile was turned your way almost every day. Seeing it again, you didn’t realize how much you missed it. 

Both of you parted after a moment. Maya’s jog continued but this time instead of spiraling in anxiety about potentially losing you forever, she was happy. Her plan was to talk, really it was, but as she ran her mind daydreamed about all the romantic possibilities that could happen after.

You, on the other hand, were preoccupied with very different thoughts. Ones of re-lived heartbreak and broken promises. The rest of that evening you spent spiraling and consumed in regret and fear of the what ifs. 

---------------------------------------------

The weekend came faster than you expected it to. In the days that followed your last encounter with Maya, your mind was fixated on so many worst case scenarios. Maya, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. 

She was nervous, sure, but she was also confident. She had her foot back in the door, she could try to convince you that she had changed. Logically, she knew jumping back into it all with you would be nearly impossible. It wasn’t like she wasn’t ready for that or for you. She knew she was ready to have it all with you, to have you back home and in the bed you once shared with her. It was all she wanted now. Screw captain, she had dropped the fantasy of getting it back somewhere in the second month of regular therapy sessions. Recently, it had even been reoffered to her and it was just as much of a shock to the station as it was to herself when she rejected the opportunity to snatch the position again.

Somewhere in the process of self improvement, she realized that wasn’t actually what she wanted. What she did want was her life back. That wasn’t possible, she decided, without you. But, not only did she want her life back, she wanted it to be better. For you. It’s what you deserved and she realized that now. She had taken you for granted and she was going to spend the rest of her life making it up to you if you’d let her.

That was another thing. Part of her plan was ambitious. She had wanted to eventually prove her dedication to you with a ring she had long hidden in the drawer next to her side of the bed, waiting for just the right chance. This was part of her plan that she had in mind before she saw you on that coffee date and if she was being honest, it was a part she tried to let go of again before she saw you on her run. When she saw you at the coffee shop, she had tried to calm herself, realizing the minute she felt ready that she was getting a little too excited. She had expected you to be hesitant, mad even, but she had held onto this naive idea that you were waiting for her to better herself. 

Even if she tried to calm herself down and not get her hopes up, she couldn’t help it. The closer she got to Saturday the more hopeful she got. Her mind wandered to the daydreams she used to have about a future with you, a wedding, a house… All those big things. There were butterflies in her stomach that she hadn’t felt since she got demoted. It really felt like everything was coming together for her.

That is, until about two hours before you both had agreed to meet.

While she was eagerly getting dressed in the nicest possible outfit, you were sitting frozen on your bed, staring at the clock tick away closer and closer to when it was time to see her. Your mind was running in circles about how you were setting yourself up to get hurt again, how you were going along with this all too easily. It was a big step to see Maya and who’s to say she really has changed? Or what if she has changed, but would stop working on herself the minute she had you back? She could lean on you, sure, you were always there to support her, but you didn’t want to be her emotional punching bag again. You didn’t want the cold shoulder when she came home, the accusations, the walking on eggshells. You didn’t know what was worse, living with a shell of the woman you loved or being without her completely. But as these months went on, and that emptiness sunk in, you had gotten used to it. Maybe it was better than the constant pain, rejection, and resentment Maya had directed towards you? Or maybe you just got comfortable in it?

Either way you were scared, so you made a choice. It was one solely made out of fear, one that you chose without truly thinking over it in a logical way. You sent a text on impulse.

Maya saw her phone light up as she was out already, trying to pick up a few of your favorite things before the date really started. With your favorite flowers in hand, she opened the text and her stomach dropped. 

I can’t see you tonight. I’m sorry.

That was all you gave her and honestly, Maya understood. She really did, but she was still crushed. 

The flowers she had in her hand were left forgotten on the cashier counter as she just walked straight out the door. 

The minute you sent that text your heart sank. You saw the three dots on the text thread start for a moment and then nothing. There was no reply, all it said was that it was read about a minute after you had sent it. You fell back on the bed, regretting the decision almost immediately and knowing just how much that had to hurt Maya. But it was for the best, right? That’s what you were telling yourself. It would save you both pain in the long run. It would save her from seeing you leave again, seeing you not be strong enough to stay by her side when she’s going through the worst of it. 

The guilt was killing you.

Eventually, about three hours later and what would’ve been an hour into the dinner you were supposed to have, you got tired of wallowing. You needed to eat, you didn’t have the emotional energy to cook, and maybe it would be good to get yourself up and moving. That way you couldn’t break your resolve, which for three hours had been seriously slipping. You lost count of the amount of times you typed and deleted an apology text to send to her. Of course, none of them got sent. If you sent one then there would be a possibility to reschedule and that reschedule would lead to all these feelings again. You couldn’t do that and you couldn’t put Maya through that.

So, by some miracle, you got yourself back out of bed. You walked, on autopilot, to your favorite pizza place to get some food. Honestly, you were probably quite the sight. You didn’t bother to do much other than get dressed in a comfortable t-shirt and jeans. There were probably still tear stains on your cheeks from how overwhelmed you felt by your emotions over tonight and your hair was definitely a mess, considering you buried yourself between two pillows and willed yourself to sleep off the horrible feelings. Sleep never came, so here you were. 

As you made your way into the restaurant and got in line to order, you really didn’t pay much attention to your surroundings. So, when you completely missed Ben Warren with his family sitting at a table, it was only understandable to take no notice. But he definitely saw you.

His head perked up and his eyebrows arched high in surprise. Maya had been talking all week about tonight, so to see you here and also in such a state of dishevelment was really shocking. But then he put the pieces together. You looked rough, but he didn’t think it was because of your interaction with Maya.

What he should’ve done was mind his own business, but he had a soft spot for you and Maya and once he saw how dead on your feet you looked, he couldn’t stop himself. With determination, while you remained completely oblivious to his presence, he walked up behind you and cautiously tapped your shoulder. 

You turned slowly, not really thinking about who was behind you or what they could want. The emotional exhaustion was too strong for you to honestly care much about anything. You really just wanted to get food and go. Even then, you weren’t sure you were going to eat it. At least you’d try though.

Then, as you turned and realized who it was, that’s when you jumped out of your skin. This was the last thing you wanted– Well, maybe not the last thing since it wasn’t actually Maya who was standing in front of you– But still, seeing someone she worked with was not much better. God, you hoped he didn’t know that you had plans with Maya. If he did, then it would be very obvious that you blew her off. He was her friend before he was yours. In fact, you weren’t sure if he really was your friend. Ben was kind and caring of course, but he was like that with everyone. 

The last thing you wanted was for him to look at you with any sort of disappointment or disapproval. What if his reaction was worse? That kind and welcoming side you had learned to associate with Warren could go away completely if he knew where you were supposed to be tonight. You really couldn’t get chewed out by him for hurting his friend. That wasn’t something you had the emotional capacity for tonight. Surely, Maya didn’t tell everyone. She wouldn’t, right? Thinking back to the dynamic you witnessed between her and her station and how everyone was a big family… the odds weren’t in your favor.

“What are you doing here?” Warren’s question was gentle, he waited to ask when the shock of seeing him finally washed from your face and was replaced with one of hesitation. He didn’t seem mad and, in fact, it was almost like he already knew the answer, but your heart still sank when you heard the question either way. “Aren’t you supposed to be meeting with Maya? It’s all she’s talked about this week.” 

So he did know. Of course, he knew. “Warren, hi… I- she told you about it?”

“It’s all she’s been talking about,” he said with no hint of humor in his voice. You swallowed hard at the look on his face. Not disapproving, but still serious.

“I- I couldn’t go,” you stammered. “It didn’t seem like a good idea. She said she changed— I don’t know. Look I should go.” You took a step back and your eyes darted to the exit. It was a bad idea to come out, you were seriously regretting that now. Food be damned, all you wanted to do was crawl back into bed. 

Seeing as Warren didn’t seem to want to stop you, you turned to leave. Even if you came here to get your comfort food before you spent the night, yet again, wallowing in heartbreak, your appetite was gone. Plus, you couldn’t stand the way he looked at you right now, the guilt of it was making you feel nauseous.  

“She gave up captain.” Warren’s voice stopped you dead in your tracks.

“What did you say…” Your question trailed off as you turned to him again.

“She gave up captain for you.” He repeated. What he said was something Maya didn’t even plan to tell you, not yet anyways. It was the last part of her process before she realized she was ready to try again with you, ready to show you she was better. And it was also the one thing you never thought you’d hear, one Maya knew would shock you to your core. She didn’t want you to know until she actually had you in her arms again, lest you think it was a tactic to get you back the easy way without even proving herself first. But, as Warren stood and saw how terrified you clearly were to jump into things with Maya again, he knew he had to nudge. 

“Warren…” It felt like the wind got knocked out of you. “That can’t be true. She wants that more than anything.” 

“No,” Warren shook his head. “There’s something she wants more.” His face said it all, he didn’t have to tell you what that thing was. It was so clearly you.

You were at a loss for words. Your heart was beating faster by the second as realization washed over you. 

“I suggest,” Warren’s voice was gentle now, “ you go see her. Tonight.”

You nodded, your feet backing away from the man yet again, but this time when you turned for the door it was for a different reason.

A million questions ran through your mind and you felt even worse about canceling on her now. You should’ve given her a chance to talk. You should’ve heard her out. If what he was saying was true then it changed everything. There was nothing bigger than the claim he just made. Warren didn’t lie either, you knew he was a trustworthy man. So you knew, deep down, the claim was true. 

Your feet carried you home faster than you thought capable. It was like your body was on autopilot while your mind raced. You stopped to grab your car keys before peeling out of your apartment parking lot and speeding towards your destination. You knew exactly where you wanted to go before you even really processed that you were already heading that way. It was rash. You had just spent the whole week worrying about being close to Maya again, hearing Maya out, opening yourself up to heartbreak. Now, though, everything was different. Now, you were suddenly ready to throw caution to the wind. 

Ben said the exact words you needed to hear to let go of any of your hesitations. Yes, you should’ve heard Maya out and yes, what you did wasn’t the best. But you were going to listen now, or try to. Even if your mind was in a million places at once, the only thing you knew was that you needed to see her. 

So when you found yourself at her apartment, you didn’t think to text or call her to warn her you were coming or to tell her you were there even when you slammed the car door and rushed to her unit. There was no hesitancy in the way you went straight to her door and knocked profusely. 

You definitely seemed like a crazy person, but you didn’t really care at that moment. Did you have a plan? No, but all you knew was that you needed to make this right. You’d hear her out, you’d listen for hours, you’d do whatever it took later. But as you waited anxiously for her to come to the door, this feeling inside you grew. It was one that told you to just fling yourself into her arms. Warren gave you all the reason you needed for you to let go of your trepidations. So if you could get her to open the door for you, you might just do exactly that. 

Finally, the door swings open and Maya’s irritated face twisted into utter shock the moment she saw you on the other side. It was almost comical to see just how flabbergasted she was. But then, as you took her appearance in, you realized she was probably wallowing in the same way you were the moment she read your text.

“(Y/N), hi what are you-”

“I have some stuff to say and I need you to just listen.” You interrupted her. She nodded immediately and stepped aside to let you in. You walked right past her and into the middle of her apartment. An apartment you used to share. The strangeness of being back here settled in your stomach like a storm and it just added so much more to your anxiety and confusion. Again, you really didn’t have much of a plan as to what was to come next. You should talk, you really should talk, but also you didn’t want to talk you just wanted… her. 

Maya walked in behind you and waited. You paced back and forth in front of her. With each step you took both yours and her anxiety was rising. She had no idea what you were going to say or if it was going to break her heart into tiny pieces. She was already hurting from your actions earlier today. The last thing she expected was to see you show up at her doorstep.  This could go either way. But honestly, she was gearing up more for you to say you never wanted to see her again rather than say anything good. But she hoped beyond hope that she was wrong to prepare for that. 

Your mind was racing and your heart was pounding in your chest. Ever since you let Maya back into your life (if you could even count the encounters you had as that), you were so afraid of her and the hurt she could possibly bring on top of the hurt you were already feeling from what happened before. But now you get this news? That the one thing she wanted more than anything in the world was offered to her and she said no. That one thing she wanted so badly it broke the both of you was no longer the thing she wanted and it felt like you were living in another reality. How were you supposed to react when Ben, the most honest man you knew, looks you in the eye and says it was you that she wanted most of all now? What do you say to him or, even more importantly, to her after learning that fact?

“We have a lot to talk about,” You were repeating yourself, but it was all you could think of to break the silence.  

“I know,” Maya nodded as she watched you pace the room.

“And a lot to work through.”

“I know,” she repeated.

“With this dinner was I… Was this your way of getting things back to the way they were?”

“No,” she shook her head. “Not how they were. A new start.”

“Maya, I- I’m still hurt. You hurt me and I haven’t healed all the way yet. It’s not that easy.”

“I know,” Maya hung her head. “I know, I hurt you. And I know it’s not that easy.”

“But even then… even…” Your words were escaping you and the battle in your mind was fizzling out to just one thing. You were so fucking tired. Tired of hurting from Maya. Tired of working through all of this and “staying strong” whatever the fuck that meant. Fuck sticking with your decision and standing your ground. Fuck being apart from the only woman you think you ever truly loved and would ever love. Fuck all of that. “Even after everything, even after months have passed… God, Maya can you just be kissing me now? Please?”

It didn’t even take Maya two seconds to process your words. In two quick strides she was in front of you, with her hands on either side of your face, pulling you in. It felt like a hurricane of emotions exploding inside you the minute her lips crashed into yours. But god was it just so… so everything. It was painful, it was incredible, it was messy, it was earth shattering. The way she was pressing her lips to yours with so much need, so much love, and so much desperation. And you met every emotion she was giving you into that kiss with your own tenfold. God, this was all you both wanted.

Maya felt like she was about to explode with joy. She knew there was work to be done, she knew you were hurt and the both of you were still broken, but finally there was hope. When she asked you to dinner, never in her wildest dreams did she think this would be happening right now. Especially after the text she received. But this. This moment right here was a sign that those pieces she broke back then could start being put together and that was all she had hoped for the minute you walked out the door. She was going to do everything she possibly could to fix what you two had. 

Your hands moved to tangle into Maya’s hair and hers moved to wrap around your waist and pull your body to press against hers. The kiss grew more and more heated with every passing second. It was like you had been starving for her and now finally you got to have a taste again, but it was going to take so much more to satiate you. Maya was in the same boat.

In the back of your mind, you thought maybe you should stop at kissing her and start talking at some point, but then your back hit the wall and Maya’s hands were dipping under your shirt and scratching at your sides. The way she was pressing herself so completely into your body, while also pulling you impossibly closer had your head swimming. A small moan fell from her lips as she kissed you harder and any thought of stopping was totally gone. The overwhelming need to be even closer (if that was possible at this point) overtook you. Plus, you didn’t want to go another night without having her next to you. The thought of going back to your empty apartment, falling asleep alone in bed, without her strong arms around you was the last thing you wanted. Tonight, you wanted Maya and you weren’t going to deny yourself of that any longer.

You were melting into her, your hands gripping at her back desperately as she kissed you with everything she had. The way your tongue ran over hers had both of you groaning against each other’s lips. Maya too thought maybe she should take it slow. Her reasoning was that she was worried she’d scare you off, but then you held her tighter and let her kiss you deeper and she knew that she couldn’t hold back. She’d only stop if you told her to stop, otherwise she was going to finally indulge. 

Eventually, Maya’s hands gripped tightly at your waist and she pulled you to walk backwards into the bedroom with her. Not once did she break the kiss and with each step you took with her, she just felt more eager to have you completely again. When both of you crossed the threshold, her hands were immediately tearing at your clothes. Both of you only broke the kiss for her to remove your shirt and bra and then her own, before you both leaned back in.

This time, when she kissed you, she slowed a little. Her tongue licked into your mouth and your nails dug into her bare shoulders. Her hands trailed down your stomach until they reached your jeans. She slipped her fingers into your belt loops and, in one swift move, she had you turned around until your knees hit the edge of the bed and you fell backwards. 

You landed with an umph but she didn’t seem to mind, neither did you. She followed you down with her knees resting on the mattress on either side of your hips to hold herself up. Her lips moved from yours to lick and nip down your neck. You were breathing hard and small whines were falling freely from you now. 

All the while, Maya was in a state of disbelief. This all felt too good to be true, but then here you were. In her hands, on her bed, laying right beneath her. The very thought of it all just made Maya’s need for you rise. 

Her teeth sank into the tender flesh between your neck and collarbone a little harder than she had been nipping at you before. A loud gasp filled the room, but quickly turned into a desperate moan as her tongue ran over the bite mark she left behind.

Usually, when you two were together before, you would complain about her leaving marks and the efforts you’d have to take to hide them the next day. This time was different, though. You didn’t mind her doing it, in fact you wanted her to. In a weird way it was a reminder that Maya seemed to have changed and that she was here with you tonight. So if anything happened after this encounter, at least you had this moment with her. This moment of completely throwing caution to the wind and letting Maya have you completely as she once did.

Maya’s hands tugged at your jeans as her lips and tongue made their way down to your chest. When she lowered her head past your neck, she was finally met with the sight of your perfect bare chest. When Maya had managed to rip off your jeans and toss them somewhere, one hand shot right up to palm at your breast while the other pushed your thigh until you had no choice but to spread your legs and let Maya adjust to kneel between them. 

With the way Maya was palming at one nipple, rolling it between her fingers and teasing you, your head was swimming. Then, she took your other in her mouth and your own hand flew to her hair, pressing her closer to your bare breast as she lightly sucked and nipped at it. 

Your head had already fallen back onto the pillow, your body already overwhelmed by all the things Maya was doing to it. It was like she never missed a beat.  She knew what you liked, she remembered every sensitive spot, every way and place to touch that drove you crazy. When her fingers finally left your inner thigh and moved between your legs to just barely trace the outside of your folds, you couldn’t stop the whimper.

That was one thing about you and Maya. The sex was always amazing because she always paid attention to your body. But she also loved to draw things out, which is exactly what it seemed like she was doing tonight. The way she continued to pay attention to your breasts while just barely ghosting the tips of her fingers over your clit was her way of taking her time. It was also driving you crazy. You didn’t think tonight, of all nights, you could let this be drawn out.

It had been months since you left Maya and even longer since she actually touched you like this. Drawing it out was torture for you. Even though Maya was enjoying this, enjoy your body, she still knew you well. She didn’t miss the frustrated huff when she only traced your entrance but didn’t do much else. She heard the pleading whimpers when her fingers rubbed lazy circles against your clit. As much as she wanted to take her time and absorb every little detail about your body, she wanted to fulfill your needs first.

So, when she entered you with two fingers without warning, the way you gasped out her name felt like the most rewarding sound Maya had ever heard. You still had one hand tangled into her hair and the other moved to wrap around her back as she began to move her fingers inside you. 

Maya managed to position herself in a way that whenever she entered her fingers into you, she put her whole body behind it. She rocked into you with each time her fingers pumped inside you. The whole bed creaked and groaned as she continued to fuck you at a steady, but strong pace.

As her pace sped up, Maya buried her head into your neck. Her emotions were high right now. To be with you like this again finally was everything to her. The way you held onto her, the way you felt around her fingers, the way you were about to fall apart at any second because of her— it was so beautiful to her. Tears pricked at her eyes, but she ignored them, knowing they were just a result of how happy she finally was. Her lips reattached to your neck, leaving marks on your skin as you turned your head into the pillow and gave her more access. 

When her fingers curled inside you and you cried out her name again, she groaned into your neck. Her free hand moved to grab one of yours and entangle your fingers as she started to pump the two inside you even harder. At this point, she knew you were close. She could feel you tighten around her fingers.

By now all you were doing was moaning her name. Every part of you was overwhelmed by Maya and the intensity was nothing you had experienced before. To go so long without the woman you loved, to not know if you’d ever have her again, made this experience so much more intense.

Your body shook as Maya continued to press her fingers against just the right spot inside you. The hand that was now in yours held tighter and you squeezed back as your body started to approach that edge.

White hot pleasure burst through your whole body finally and you felt yourself tighten even more around the fingers inside you. You let out a pathetic whimper of Maya’s name as you came. She kissed at your neck and your face, murmuring different things about how good you were, how beautiful you looked, and other praises.

Your body relaxed underneath her finally and she slowly and carefully slid her fingers out of you. Maya’s body rested more fully on top of yours once she had and you still struggled to regulate your heartbeat.

A hand came to press against your cheek and Maya leaned up slightly to look at you. You were still panting a little from the intensity of the orgasm, but you managed to focus your eyes and look back. The expression you saw from her took your breath away. Never had you seen her so happy, so radiant in all the time you’ve known Maya. She was smiling down at you with the softest, but most genuine smile you’ve ever seen. Her eyes shined as she stared back at yours and all you could read in them was admiration and happiness. 

She leaned down then, her lips pressing against yours in the most gentle kiss. Your eyes fluttered closed and you leaned up into it, overtaken by the softness that Maya was displaying. 

“I know we need to talk,” Maya whispered when she pulled away. “But would you stay the night, please?” You nodded and Maya’s smile only got brighter. “I just want to hold you for the rest of the night. Is that okay?”

“I’d like that,” you managed to say, your voice still rough from the intensity of the events just moments ago. 

“Good,” Maya sighed happily. She adjusted then, rolling off you and shimmying out of the rest of her clothes. Then she settled beside you, pulling you into her strong arms where you adjusted until you felt comfortable. There was so much intimacy in this moment, your bare bodies pressed to each other and your head on her chest so close you could hear the beat of her heart. Before you left, before Maya lost captain even, this kind of intimacy was hard for Maya to express. You had learned and accepted that it was a feeling that would come when it did, and that was rare.

But tonight, as Maya’s fingers raked gently through your hair, it felt so natural and easy for her. There didn’t seem to be any difficulty in the affection Maya was showing and your heart skipped a beat as you realized just how much truth she had spoken when she said she changed. 

You felt content in this moment, like everything would be okay. No matter what all you had to talk through, no matter the work that still needed to be done, things between you two would be okay. You were right where you were supposed to be and both of you felt that sentiment now more than either of you ever had. 

“Maya,” you whispered into the peaceful silence the room had fallen into. “I love you. I never stopped loving you.” Those words had so much emotion, they held so much promise in them, and you hoped Maya understood all of it in the conviction you put behind them.

Maya’s hand paused in your hair for a moment, but you felt the arm around you tighten and pull you closer. “I love you too,” Maya finally said, clearing her throat to avoid the obvious signs of tears that threatened to spill. “I will always love you with everything I have, if you let me. I promise you that.”

It was a new promise that Maya was making to you. What felt like so long ago Maya had held you and said she never loved anyone more completely than you and promised that never would change. Now she is promising you that she will give her all to loving you and being the partner you need. Maya has broken promises, she’s let you down and hurt you in the past. It’s what broke the both of you before. But as you took in her words, you knew, just as she held onto the one promise, she’d hold onto this one as well. 

There was healing to do, but Maya was ready to rebuild with you if you’d let her. And as you pulled yourself closer into her body and pressed a kiss over her heart, she knew you were all in to rebuild with her too.

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[eponastory]

My Father's Words

There were days when Koda found himself thinking about his childhood. The memories of playing with his cousin, younger sisters, and his brother in the gardens while his mother sat watching them. His father would come in after meeting with his advisors and sit next to their mother with a smile on his face.

Those were happy times. It was just them. His parents and their love that created so many memories.

Of course, there were some not so good moments in time that brought panic and distress. There was one time where he remembered being on the run, but eventually they returned home to the Palace. It did not feel the same for a while after, but everything slowly went back to normal.

But it was the fear on his father's face and the way he seemed to age ten years in the matter of weeks. It scared Koda then, because that was when he understood that his father was not invincible or going to live forever. It had been a sickening moment for Koda, and that feeling stayed with him for months after that realization.

"Koda?" his father's voice pulled him out of the raw emotions he felt. "What is wrong?"

He tried hiding his tears away from his father before turning to face the man that had loved and raised him. Koda was only ten, but he felt so much younger when he cried, because boys should not cry. Especially in front of their fathers.

"It's nothing, Dad." he told his father, but the man was not having that excuse for an answer as he stood in the doorway.

Koda watched through blurry eyes as his father leaned back out of the doorway and looked around to see if there was anyone else. His father sighed, letting his shoulders drop when there was no one to be seen before moving to Koda's bed and sitting down next to him.

Despite being the 'Great' Fire Lord Zuko, Koda only saw his father as 'Dad' and that was a greater title than the one Zuko was born with. In Koda's eyes, Zuko was more than just his father... he was a hero, so Koda tried to rein in his emotions. After all, Koda was a Prince of the Fire Nation, but not the heir.

"It's not 'nothing' if you're crying." Zuko put an arm around Koda's shoulders and brought him in closer. Koda could smell the incense from the council chambers still on Zuko's informal regalia. "What's going on, Koda?"

To be honest, Koda did not want to talk about what he felt to his father. Instead, he just sat there silently in Zuko's presence. He knew that one day, Zuko was not going to be there to give him this comfort when he needed it. Which was something he was trying to understand now.

He loves his father. Deeply.

"I don't want you to die." Koda whispered out after several long minutes of sitting there. "When we came back to the palace, things were so different. You were different."

"How am I different?" Zuko's eyebrow raised in question as Koda looked up at him. "It's okay, you can tell me."

Koda had never feared his father. Zuko may have been stoic in the presence of other nobles and his subordinates, but he was a different person when he was around his family.

"Promise you won't tell Mom?" He gave his father a hesitant look.

"Why would I tell your mother?" Another confused look from Zuko made Koda want to shirk away, but he stayed motionless. "You know me better than this, Son. What you tell me stays between us."

"Well... I... I'm afraid that one day, I'll wake up and you won't be here." The soft tone of Koda's voice caused Zuko to get off the bed and kneel before him with pain in his eyes. It was a pain that Koda had only seen once.

When Uncle Iroh died.

Even with the scar on his father's face, there was no pain that could rival what Zuko must have been feeling then. Koda had seen it clear as day before his father had said something he would never forget.

"Koda..." the warmth of his father's palm on his face had brought fresh tears. "I'm not going to lie to you and tell you that won't happen, but if you think for one second that I'm not going to prepare you for that moment... then I will have failed you as a father." He pulled Koda into an embrace. "I'm sorry that what happened scared you, and made you believe you were going to lose me." Zuko's voice wavered. "But I'm right here." Koda felt his father's hand on the back of his head. "I fear losing you more than I fear dying."

It was true, Koda could feel that in the inflections of his father's voice.

"I will do anything for you, your sisters, and your cousin." Zuko pulled away from him. "I will give my life and I want you to understand what that means." Koda nodded blinking through his tears. "I hope I live to see you understand that, but if not, then I'll be there with you in spirit." Zuko put his hand on top of Koda's hair before ruffling it. "Growing old is part of life."

"Does that explain the gray hairs?" Koda looked at the small bit of gray on Zuko's temples that had recently appeared.

"No, that would be your sisters." They both laughed.

Zuko had done all he could to prepare his children for his eventual death. Even going as far as planning his own funeral out of spite, because he was still alive and in perfect health well into his ninties now.

Koda had always kept Zuko's words tucked away in the back of his mind until he finally understood the meaning of them. That was when he met the love of his life and then again when she gave birth to their first child. He knew then what it meant to love someone so much that he would willingly give his life for them instead of losing them.

As he walked into the garden, he found his father sitting by the turtleduck pond with his youngest niece, who was barely out of her teens. They were talking about the upcoming festival when Koda noticed the weary look on his father's face.

There was going to be a point in time where Koda would wake up and the former Fire Lord would be just a shell and the entire world would mourn.

But today, was the day where he kept breathing out of spite because he loved his family too much to let them go.

Koda was like his father in that way.

Hey! Story here!

Yeah yeah, so I was working on chapter 8 of The Dragon's Eye and I kinda needed to write something different for a bit. This little one shot is not part of The Red Dragon Prophecy, it's actually part of After the Rain.

Koda is Zuko and Katara's oldest son. And the event that happens to the family is not yet written out (it's in the sequel to After the Rain) so, I'll be working on that story soon.

[shitsndgiggs]

Hiiii!! Can you write one with Barış where him and reader have been together since childhood basically and showing how they’ve always been supportive of one another. Like she’s been to almost all his games and he’s there when she graduates and they are just madly in love with each other and everyone sees it too

LOVE THROUGHOUT THE YEARS - BARIŞ ALPER YILMAZ

Your relationship with Barış throughout the years

Barış Alper Yılmaz x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

We were just kids when we first met, barely old enough to understand what love was, let alone what it would grow into.

Barış was the boy next door, always with a soccer ball at his feet and a cheeky grin on his face.

We spent our days running around the neighborhood, getting into all sorts of adventures.

Even back then, there was something special between us, a connection that everyone around us noticed.

As we grew older, that connection only deepened. We went to the same schools, shared the same group of friends, and were practically inseparable.

When Barış joined the local soccer team, I was there at every practice, sitting on the sidelines with a book in hand, but always looking up to watch him play.

His passion for the game was infectious, and I loved seeing the joy it brought him.

By the time we were teenagers, our bond had evolved into something more than friendship. It happened so naturally, neither of us could pinpoint exactly when it shifted.

But one day, we were holding hands, walking home from school, and it just felt right.

Barış started playing in bigger tournaments, and I was always there in the stands, cheering him on.

No matter how far the game was or how cold the weather, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I remember the day his team made it to the regional finals.

The stadium was packed, and I could barely see over the heads of the other spectators, but when Barış scored the winning goal, he immediately turned to the crowd, searching for me.

When our eyes met, he pointed at me, his face lighting up with a smile that made my heart swell with pride.

“You’re my lucky charm,” he said, hugging me tightly after the match.

“And you’re my hero,” I replied, knowing there was nowhere else I’d rather be than by his side.

As we navigated high school, our relationship only grew stronger. We supported each other through everything—exams, family struggles, and the pressure of figuring out our futures.

When I decided to pursue my studies in literature, Barış was my biggest cheerleader, just as I was for him on the field.

Graduation day was one of the happiest days of my life, not just because of the milestone it represented, but because Barış was there, waiting for me outside the auditorium with a bouquet of flowers in hand. He had a game that evening, but he wouldn’t miss this for anything.

“You did it, aşkım,” he said, his voice full of pride as he handed me the flowers. “I’m so proud of you.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” I replied, feeling the weight of his words in my heart.

We had been through so much together, and it felt like we could conquer anything as long as we had each other.

That night, after his game, we sat under the stars, talking about our dreams and what the future might hold. There was never any doubt in my mind that whatever happened, we would face it together.

As we moved into adulthood, Barış’s soccer career took off. He started playing professionally, and with that came more travel and time apart.

But no matter how far away he was, we always found a way to stay connected. I traveled to his games whenever I could, and when I couldn’t, I watched them on TV, cheering him on from wherever I was.

Barış was there for me too. When I got my first job as a literary editor, he was the one who celebrated with me, popping a bottle of champagne in our tiny apartment.

And when I published my first book, he was front and center at the launch, telling everyone within earshot that his girlfriend was a published author.

Our friends and family often joked about how “madly in love” we were, but it was true. We had been through so much together, and our love had only grown stronger over the years.

We were each other’s biggest supporters, and everyone around us could see it.

Now, as we stand on the brink of a new chapter in our lives, I can’t help but reflect on how far we’ve come. We’ve grown up together, faced countless challenges, and celebrated each other’s victories.

Barış has become a star on the soccer field, and I’ve carved out a career as a writer, but through it all, our love has remained the constant.

And as we look toward the future, I know that whatever comes our way, we’ll face it together.

Because that’s what we’ve always done, from the time we were kids with scraped knees and big dreams, to now, as adults still madly in love, ready to take on the world hand in hand.

In the end, it’s not just about the games won or the books published. It’s about the moments we’ve shared, the laughter, the tears, and the unwavering support we’ve given each other.

Barış is my best friend, my biggest fan, and the love of my life, and I know that as long as we have each other, we can face anything the world throws our way.

[chaosduckies]

Restoration (Chapter 1)

Finally! Finished the first chapter! It’s also my first official g/t story. Enjoy!

Word count: 3,500

CW: Mentions of Death, Fear, and panic attacks (they don’t actually happen)

1- Nathan 

Don’t you wish that sometimes you could reverse time? Whether you never wished to be born, or if you just did something really embarrassing. You want to know what I would do if I could reverse time? Make sure my parents did move away from our little home in the country sooner. We all had loved it. With no loud noises and no people to tell us that we were weird. Just me, my parents, and the most beautiful view of coniferous trees ever. And that was stripped away from us. 

We had heard nothing but the dreadful screams and the cackling in the back of our minds. The only glimpse we had of out new home was the wicked smiles of our torturers. The only thing we were allowed to see were bodies being ripped in half. No longer the sight of the maple leaves turning orange during the fall, no longer the sight of a sunset. Nothing. Nothing but a red, bloody void.

Terrible right? How could I describe something you don’t even know? It’s not that hard. Just two words. Human trafficking. Where humans are taken away from our home and forced to make entertainment for beings with no hearts. They didn’t care what happened to anything that was below them in the food chain. That didn’t care how a “lesser” being felt. Because who would want to know about how a seven year old cried about seeing their own dad being ripped in half, huh? Who cared about how many times you’ve broken someone else’s bones? Who cared how much you traumatized a kid who used to have their whole life ahead of them? 

That was how I lived more than half of my life. Fearing everything that could and would hurt me. Scared of what would happen the very next day. Scared of the unknown truth that was my life. Even if my mom had kept reassuring me that everything would be okay. Even when my dad was long out of our lives, but never forgotten. Even when she was on the brink of death herself… 

Then, there was a glimmer of hope. And all I remembered were gun shots and my mom screaming and dragging me underneath something. Hidden away from the people that were trying to help us. After my mom had finally realized that those people were there to help, she asked me to go out and get them to come help her. I remembered seeing her bloody leg. I remember her tying a piece of string around to stop it from bleeding anymore. And I remember being scared to go. What was I supposed to do? I was just subdued to years and years of torture and all of a sudden I’m supposed to trust the same people that hurt us? 

The only reason I gathered up enough courage was because my mother had practically begged me and passed out afterward. I couldn’t leave her there to die like dad. And so what I thought would be our imminent doom yet again, was our hope for surviving. The people here helped get my mom to get better, and fixed up my multiple broken bones and wounds. They sent me to a program that taught basic skills before I could be placed into an actual school. Everything was going great. I had my life ahead of me. Then, the papers forcing my mom and I to transfer to a co-ed city arrived. 

Our little utopia was crumbling to the ground. Living in the same city as giants? Hah. No. I’d rather die than be around those monsters again. They’d just hurt us. And for some odd reason, my mom was smiling. Genuinely smiling even after reading the notice. She never looked mad, upset, or even the slightest bit scared. She smiled and cheered that we could have a normal life again. That I could have the childhood I never had. 

I admit, I believed this could be a good change as well. I could be around other people my age. Maybe make friends? And so began this great journey of trying to act like nothing had happened. Like my mom and I weren’t just subdued to torture for the last 8 years. No one would know, and no one would care. 

Today stated off as any normal day. I got dressed, brushed my teeth, ate breakfast. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just the first day I was cleared to go to an actual school. After moving away from the hospital and coming over to the co-ed city, I kind of thought this was a good idea. I mean, who’s to say that it’ll tun out like it did in the country? For all I know I won’t even have to go to school with giants. I could just go to an all human school or something. That’s what I was hoping for on the way here. But, now that my mom and I have been here for nearly a month, I’ve learned that wasn’t the case. 

I was going to school with humans and giants. Whether I liked it or not. 

My mom tried to reassure me, saying that there were more rules set up in a city rather than in the country. That wasn’t what I was worried about though. I was more worried about what would happen if I was alone. This was a completely new place that I’ve never been to. Who know’s what could happen? 

The bus came to pick me up and some other younger kids who were laughing at something on their phones. The atmosphere had completely changed. It was thick, and heavy. Maybe it was because it was early in the morning? Or maybe it was because everyone dreaded the day? I mean it was Monday after all. Whatever was making them look so drained and tired was obviously not good. Making my nerves rise like crazy. 

I sat down near the front of the bus, trying to avoid the other kids my age. There was just something about them that had me on edge. It’s not like I didn’t want to to make friends, it’s just that I had to be careful who I place my trust in. Especially when I was going to a school made for people much, much bigger than me. 

It was hard to keep my mind off of the fact that I would be walking along with giants again, but unless I wanted to undergo a panic attack on my first day, it was best to just ignore everyone and everything. At least until I could work up the courage to walk without my legs losing balance or without running away. Which will probably happen today. I’d be surprised if I could go three minutes without freaking out. 

The school was around a ten minute drive from my house. Plenty of time to really set into perspective where I was going. I checked my phone to make sure I would be able to call my mom in case something went wrong, made sure I had my schedule, and soon enough we were all exiting the bus. 

In front of me was a huge building. This was the human entrance to the school. Giants was on the other side so I at least didn’t have to deal with that until later on in the day. Hopefully. Compared to what I was guessing the giant side of the school, the human side was extremely tiny. Overall, the place looked very nice. They had well-kept flowerbeds on the outside with a couple benches outside for I guess when students came here before the doors open. 

When you walked into the building, there were lockers lining the walls up until you reached the doorways to the main classes. People were crowding all over, trying to meet up with their friends or just trying to get to class early. It all felt too much for me. I wasn’t used to being around so many people at once and it was really overwhelming me. Meanwhile, I still needed to figure out where the heck my class was in this mess. Somewhere in this hallway hopefully… 

After wandering around aimlessly for ten minutes, I finally found the classroom, thankfully in the human school. The only problem was that I had all eyes on me. I was not used to this however. One or two people? I could deal with. But with and entire classroom full? It just made my nerves go all over the place, and of course I didn’t show it at all. Staring at the tiled ground and finding the one empty seat on the far left of the class between two girls who both glared at me like I just interrupted their very important conversation about how their makeup looked. I mean I did, but I was too afraid to apologize now that they already hated me. 

Overall, the first half of the day was okay. No one talked to me and I didn’t talk to anyone. Mostly because there were so many whispers and mentions of me that had me thinking they were already talking bad about me. Why was all the attention on me? I was probably the most uninteresting person ever. I even heard someone say that I wasn’t going to last a week in this place, which seemed right if I were being honest. 

The bell rang, releasing us for lunch, and I just followed the crowd that started flooding the halls. I wasn’t hungry. At all. It’s just that I don’t know where I’m going in this huge place. The human side of the school looked really small compared the the giants’ side, but it’s really big inside. 

The cafeteria was shared between both giants and humans. Why was I barely finding this out now? I had zero idea. It would have been helpful to know that beforehand so I could mentally prepare myself, but now I didn’t have anymore time and I was currently standing right in the middle of the floor searching for a place to hide. 

Of course there were human tables nearby, but I had no idea which group of people sat at which. The last thing I needed was for someone to get mad at me over a table. That would be pointless. So, here I was. Definitely not on the human side of the cafeteria, and instead standing right in the middle of a walkway for giants. Can I add on that? I was too frozen in fear to move. 

Sure, there were other humans walking along where I was, but they could actually move. I had no idea how they could when people that were as tall as skyscrapers, some even taller, were walking along with them. I don’t get it! Even more odd, humans were going around the giant tables and climbing into something that took them on top. 

So this place did have commodities for humans. There apparently were elevators that took you on top of the giant table to human tables on top. That only took me forever to figure out at that moment, but that’s what was going on. So everyone was friends here or something? Well, maybe not everyone since there were other humans sitting on their side.

After taking a good five minutes to gather up my thoughts, I finally was able to walk away from being in the middle of the floor and in a corner table where no one was currently sitting. The farthest table away from the giants. And it seemed like no one was going to sit here anyways. I can’t believe that I didn’t run away. I mean I was just frozen in fear, but that doesn’t count! 

  Lunch was loud. Mainly because the giant’s voices were so loud and I hated the fact that no one minded but me. These other kids have been here for who knows how long so I was guessing they were just used to it. It made sense in my head. 

Th day went on. The second half of my school day was mainly in the giant’s side, which I dreaded, but they made a separate hall to get there. One that avoided being stepped on I was guessing. The classrooms here were huge of course, and they had humans on a separate desk all together. To avoid what you may ask? I had zero idea. 

It was going alright until my last period. I had successfully avoided giants all day (To some extent) and then my last period came tumbling down right on top of me. First, there was no desk in the back that had the human-sized ones. Second, humans were taking one of those elevators like at lunch to get on top of a giant’s desk acting like they weren’t just a hundred feet up in the air. Third, but last, the teacher was approaching me. Did I mention she was a giant? 

“You must be Nathan! Nice to meet you!” She had greeted, crouching down and holding her hand out. Did… did she want me to shake her hand. Er… finger? Oh heck. My heart was beating fast as I stared at her outstretched hand. Um. What do I do? And suddenly those same eyes came onto me. Peering right through my body. Again, why did all the attention come to me? 

I reached out a shaky hand, trying to keep my legs from buckling underneath me, and lightly placed my hand over the tip of her finger as she gently shook it. I gulped, expecting for there to be more, but she smiled softly and sadly at me. What did that mean? Should I be worried? What class was this even? I just read on my paper to come to room 135. 

“Hm… now who doesn’t have a human partner?” She turned her head up, looking for any raised hands. I couldn’t see anything. Heck, I could barely even look up. There were still a couple eyes on me, and I couldn’t help but feel the acid from my stomach leave a nasty taste in my mouth. Just a couple more minutes and you can go home. I had to remind myself before the teacher smiled and told me to follow her. I did, just a little ways from her, trying to ignore the stares that were practically stabbing me in the back. 

I couldn’t help but hear whispers again. Where was she taking me. Wait let me rephrase that. Who was she taking me to? By the looks of it giants and humans were randomly paired up for some odd reason. On my way to whoever’s desk I was going to, I couldn’t help but dread this. What if I fell off? What if the person who’s desk I’ll be on forgets I’m there and knocks me off? What if they don’t like me? Questions swirled in my head, but I knew I wasn’t going to get answers right now. 

The teacher stopped, turned down to me and smiled. Was she waiting for me to do something? Oh wait. Elevator, right. Multiple sets of eyes were on me once again as the elevator slowly went up. Nerves built up inside of me. Anxiety. Heck, maybe even a panic attack. I felt dizzy, but I would survive. There was only thirty minutes left of the day. I could survive. Yeah. 

The elevator stopped, opening a little gate to the open desk with a huge journal on it. I gulped, taking my first steps. The first thing I noticed about this guy was that he didn’t look as welcoming as the teacher. He gave me “Quiet Kid” vibes. Not to mention that he was dressed in mostly black. 

Replayed in my mind was the sick smirk and laughter coming from my captors. If this guy got ahold of me I would be dead. I was so sure of it that I tasted the vile in my mouth and my knees nearly buckling right from underneath me. But, I couldn’t help but wonder why he was wearing a nervous look on his face instead of the usual sickening grin. 

“Ryker, Nathan. Nathan, Ryker. I’m sure you’ll both get along well.” The teacher cheered, heading to the front of the class and taking role call. Leaving all alone with someone who looked like he would rip my body in half. Just great. As soon as I had stepped out of the elevator, I was once again frozen with fear. This time at a much closer radius than I would have preferred. Because now I was definitely in arms reach of him. Not something that I’d like to be near.  

My eyes fell to the ground as tears threatened my eyes. Too bad I wasn’t going to let anyone see them. I slowly walked over to the human desk, seeing that it was father from the edge than I had thought and there were railings so it would pretty hard to fall off without actually trying. 

The teacher smiled while standing up from her chair, “Welcome to Human and Giant Interactions for those of you who don’t know. I’m Mrs. Kay. Some people are taking this class willingly, or they just need the credit to graduate, but I would still love to get everyone involved and take this class seriously.” She had explained. What. I don’t remember putting this on the extracurricular format. Then again the hospital did say these kinds of classes would benefit for me. So did they really have to put this class on my schedule? Life really did hate me. A lot. 

This class went by painfully slow. It was mainly just videos on current events with humans and giants, and then Mrs. Kay asking us questions to which only the people on the front desks had answered. Not that I even wanted to answer a question like that. But it was mostly hard to focus when you had someone who could very easily push me off the side of the desk without even trying. I mean, I never once looked behind me the entire class period. Only hearing him flip pages in his notebook from taking notes like everyone else in the room. 

One other thing I had noticed was that rarely anyone had talked. For a class that was supposed to bring humans and giants together, it really didn’t seem like it. Then again, I had no idea wha they really did in this class. Maybe she just doesn’t like talking? Or people didn’t want to get in trouble or something? They were too tired? That would make the most since it was the end of the day. 

It felt like forever before the final bell had rang. I rushed down that stupid elevator thingy and hurried out the doors to the bus stop so I wouldn’t have to dread this until tomorrow morning all over again. 

My mom was still at work, so I just cooked some dinner for myself, made her a plate and stuffed it in the fridge and went to my room. This was going to hard to get through, but if my mom thinks it’ll help then I believe her. I mean, what other choice did I have? 

As soon as I heard the front door open, I saw my mom sighing while putting up her purse. I walked to the kitchen to heat up her dinner, earning a quiet chuckle form her. It sort of made me sad to think that she’ll never smile the same way again. Heck, she can’t even stand it when people touch her after what had happened. But at least we’re both still alive. 

“Smells amazing Nate.” She complimented, using her same soft and broken voice. She grabbed one of the plastic plates from the cabinet and getting herself a cup of tea. 

“How was school?” 

What was I even supposed to say to her? That it was terrifying every second? That I barely even survived the day without going under a panic attack? I couldn’t tell her that. She’d be so worried about me she wouldn’t worry about herself. I couldn’t do that to my mom. 

“It was good.” I put on my best fake smile and made her plate. 

“That’s good. There were no troubles?” 

“None so far.” 

“Thank you for doing this Nate. I just want you to have a normal childhood. I couldn’t have you at that hospital any longer.” She sadly explained, planting a soft kiss on my cheek. 

“I know mom. I’ll be fine.” 

She gave me a warm smile before taking her plate and sitting on the couch with the tv on. She didn’t need to know that I was practically forcing myself to even be around other people. It would put too much stress on her. For now, I’ll just force myself to endure whatever decides to throw itself at me. 

————————————————

And first chapter officially done. To be honest I wrote this just for the fun of it. Who knows, maybe I’ll actually make this a series instead of abandoning it? Don’t know.

[misshoneyimhome]

It’s no fun to score without a goalie 

Summary; Auston Matthews always takes what he wants.

Tags: Auston Matthewsxreader; naughty!Auston; cheating;

Warnings: alcohol consumption, sexual behaviour; (18+);

A/N: I think my new favourite tag will be Naughty!Auston - It's got so much potential ;)

*

The music was loud as it throbbed through the night club, drowning out everything else. You were dancing with two of your friends, enjoying a night out, your hips swaying sensually and your hair swishing to the rhythm of the beat.

You were having a great time.

You were tipsy but not overly intoxicated. You'd had a couple of drinks at the pre-party and maybe a few shots after entering the club.

You were out with the significant others of the Toronto Maple Leafs ice hockey team, a group you'd been a part of for a little over a year now.

You had been invited to a couple of games and events by a friend of yours, who happened to be a second cousin or something like that to Morgan Reilly.

You enjoyed hanging out with the team very much. They were all very sociable and outgoing with a high level of energy.

And one person in particular had caught your eye: Auston Matthews, one of the best players on the team, if not in the entire NHL.

But he was simply a really good friend. Your intense energies seemed to match, and his sense of humour aligned perfectly with yours.

And everyone seemed to notice how well the two of you got along. Not many people could keep up with Auston's attitude, but you could. You could put him in his place when he was being a twit, and he could do the same to you.

But he never showed more interest in you. Besides, he's Auston Matthews—aka, way out of your league.

So, you settled for less: Trevor.

A lad from your childhood group of friends, but not a part of the Maple Leafs' group. He'd shown no interest in joining the world of hockey, as he was more of a "football fan" - as he put it.

And it's not like he was an unattractive person, but he was not in the same league as Auston. Trevor wasn’t as tall as Auston, and his features weren’t as Greek God, Adonis like – but he was attractive enough.  

In addition, he was the "I used to be popular in high school, so I'm still cool" kind of guy. His level of intelligence was limited, and he often seemed narrow-minded and careless.

However, he was sweet enough around you, and he was always there when you needed him. Well, most of the time.

But tonight, he wasn't there.

Tonight, you were out having a good time with your girlfriends and some guy friends.

And one of those guys was Auston.

He had been sitting in the booth, participating in the group's conversation, but he'd also kept an eye on you all night.

Though you were too occupied in dancing with your friends to notice, he ensured you were okay from a distance.

You looked amazing tonight.

You exuded confidence in your outfit, and your beautiful smile radiated nothing but happiness. Your hips moved seductively, and your little tight, black, lacy dress accentuated your curves.

It wasn't fair.

It wasn’t fair that you were looking so damn good, and you were dancing like that, when he was sitting nearby, being able to see you. Auston was mesmerised by your every move, and all he wanted to do was go and place his hands on you, sway his hips with yours, gently place kisses on the bare skin of your neck, and make you moan out softly, when you’d feel his member slowly growing hard for you.

The fact that someone was waiting for you at home was why Auston stayed put in his seat. That person made you feel carefree, so you could have fun without the pressure to impress or attract anyone.

And you were oblivious to it all. You had no idea just how much Auston yearned for you, how badly he wanted to feel your touch, and how he'd stand up to anyone who dared to flirt with you.

However, Auston wasn't entirely certain why his desire for you burned so fiercely; perhaps it was because you were off-limits to him, even though he could have had any other girl in the room.

He'd always found you incredibly attractive and sexy; it all started on that first day he met you at a somewhat wild off-season party. You were wearing a little black dress just like tonight and some striking red heels that had made him go feral.

Your confidence and occasionally over-energetic personality had always been something he loved. You were often the bright spot in even the gloomiest of days, and with your smile, you could probably light up Toronto after dark.

And you had made Auston desperate.

**

As the song came to an end, you let out a sigh and decided it was time for a break. You felt a bit warm and slightly sweaty from all the dancing, so you informed your friends that you were going to freshen up and catch your breath.

Making a brief stop at the bar for a refill, you headed straight for the ladies' room with a fresh drink in your hand.

As you gazed at yourself in the mirror, a smile crept onto your face. This night out was exactly what you had needed.

It was one of those nights where you didn't have to concern yourself with Trevor and his annoying friends. He wasn't around to dampen your spirits or lecture you about having one drink too many. Simultaneously, you weren't out to impress anyone or seek attention. Flirting and trying to catch someone's eye weren't even on your mind.

No, tonight was solely about you and having a blast with your friends.

That is until a soft knock on the door disrupted your revelry.

A little startled, you called out, "Someone's in here."

But the knocking persisted.

Feeling a bit tipsy and curious, you decided to open the door, and there he stood—Auston Matthews.

Your breath caught as he stared at you intensely with those deep, dark eyes, his tall frame dressed in a stylish yet relaxed suit. The scent of his captivating cologne hung in the air, and your bodies were closer than they'd ever been.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked casually, though there was a hint of determination in his tone. Before you could even gather your thoughts to reply, he used his size to gently push you back into the room and swiftly locked the door behind him.

Puzzled and a little startled, you allowed him to guide you, and before you knew it, you found yourself backed against the counter.

"What... what are you up to?" you stammered nervously as Auston continued to press his body against yours, his head lowering so you could feel his warm breath on your skin.

Usually, you wouldn't get this flustered around Auston, but this was uncharted territory.

"Just making a move," he said with a dark chuckle. His lips hovered dangerously close to yours, and it took all your willpower not to bridge the gap. "You were dancing pretty seductively - all for me?"

Words failed you. For the first time around him, you were rendered utterly speechless. And you couldn't deny that you were undeniably intrigued. Yet, you hesitated.

"Auston..." you almost whispered, your voice trembling, "I have a boyfriend."

"Mmm, I'm well aware," he replied, offering a cheeky smirk.

"Then- then why are you doing this?"

He'd had plenty of opportunities in the past year to make a move like this. Trevor had only entered the picture three months ago. Why now?

"Because it's no fun to score without a goalie," he simply replied with a dark, husky voice that sent a shiver running down your spine.

And with that, his lips were on yours in a fiercely battle. You were fighting for air as his tongue slipped into your mouth and dominated yours. His hands were all over your body, from your hips to your breasts and to cup your face.

You clutched the fabric of his shirt as you leaned more and more into the heated make-out session. But needing to catch your breath, you forced yourself to pull back.

"Auston, we can't..." you breathed out, though you didn't even sound like you believed your own words.

With his strong arms and without saying a word, he spun you around, making you face the mirror and place your hands on the counter. He moved your hair to one side of your head, then slowly began to place soft kisses on your neck.

You slightly tilted your head to one side, providing him better access, lightly closing your eyes as you were mesmerised by his touch.

"Can't what?" he spoke softly yet somewhat dominantly in between kisses. "This?"

His kisses increased, and he started to lightly bite down into your skin; he knew he was leaving marks, which worked according to plan.

"Yes..." you murmured - but your moans told a different story.

Auston moaned into your skin, as he slowly slid his hands up against your inner thigh, and lightly his fingers made their way between your legs and brushed against your core.

“Or this?” He smirked as you let out another, a little louder moan.

You knew it was wrong, yet I felt so right.

And you knew he had you completely under his spell.

[fleouriarts]

posting ocs on this account for the first time in forever... and making NEW ocs for the first time in forever too. please welcome my new funny animals

heights on the pic are measured from top of the skull (so not including hair or ears)

more info about everyone below the cut

JAMIE NAM: banded linsang. 19. he/him tboy. animation student. he is a nervous wreck and kind of a cringe failboy but by god he's trying his best

SANTIAGO FLORES: sheep. 20. he/him cis dude. fine arts student. absolute sweetheart with a huge family who's been dating jamie for only a few months before the inciting incident of the story (detailed below)

JOHNNY DEAN CLANTON: red appaloosa horse. 21. she/her cis butch. worked on her family's chicken/various other birds farm for a year after high school, then decided to just be a "free spirit" living out of her van and doing odd manual labor jobs for people. she's also an absolute player (with a thing for small carnivores in particular)

NULL: blue point siamese cat. 20. they/them agender. chemistry student and pawblix (furry version of publix) cashier. they are actually friends with people, but they're also great at lying and generally pretending to get along with people they hate. needs a smoke break

ARGYLE LANCASTER: lion. 21. he/him cis dude. engineering student who burnt out and decided to go into fashion design instead. chill and agreeable to a fault, he will go with whoever else's flow even if it ends up hurting him (or someone else)

the general gist of this story is that everyone here except for santiago knew each other in high school. jamie is childhood friends with johnny, johnny is friends with null, and null is friends with argyle. jamie gets introduced to null through johnny, then gets introduced to argyle through null. jamie is immediately smitten and has a crush on argyle for months

at the end of jamie's junior year/argyle's senior year, jamie finally asks argyle out. argyle says yes, but he's really not that into jamie, he just wants to see what will happen (... and also feels bad for him). over the course of the summer it becomes clear to argyle that this relationship cannot last but he keeps putting off on breaking up with jamie. finally, the day before argyle moves across the country to go to college, he admits to jamie that he was kinda dating him out of pity and breaks up with him. jamie, understandably, loses his fucking mind, blocks argyle on everything after he leaves, and proceeds to have the worst senior year of all time

flash forward a few years. jamie is now a sophomore in college in an animation program. he's got a new beautiful sheep boyfriend named santiago. null, who was only really an acquaintance before, goes to the same college as them and they become better friends. johnny isn't always in town but they still hang out on the regular. jamie is still mad at argyle, because why wouldn't he be, but there's enough good in his life that he doesn't have to focus on his one bad high school relationship

... until argyle, dropping out of his ruthless engineering program, decides to transfer back home. to jamie and co's college. now BOTH of them have to deal with feelings that have built over the past three years as seeing each other becomes almost unavoidable. jamie has to grapple with the fact that he can't be mad at argyle forever, and argyle is forced to actually deal with the fact that he hurt someone like that instead of just hoping they've gotten over it

... ok wow i did not expect to type that much. i scripted a comic of jamie seeing argyle for the first time in three years in a frenzy a few weeks ago, and i've been telling myself that i HAVE to do a longer comic (and by longer i mean like. more than 3 pages) with my ocs this year, so hopefully i'll start working on that soon. i'm also gonna make a separate Lore Post about my furryverse because there's some silly stuff i've come up with for it. anyway ENJOY

[lynnuvo]

My Best Friend, Homura

Characters: Homura Akemi x Female (Y/N)

Your backstory was summed up in a rather simple way: your life was normal until it wasn't.

Your childhood was filled with happy memories of your family, which consisted of you, your mother and father, and a little sister. Every two weeks, your parents would go on a date and come home on the brink of making love (thank goodness they didn't do so in front of you kids). Many mornings, you'd wake up to the sight of them chatting in the kitchen and hugging each other from behind. When they interacted with their children, they'd kiss you and your sister on the foreheads and laughs would echo throughout the room as the family laughed while playing together. Your parents were in love with each other, and they loved their children.

So it didn't make sense to learn that your father cheated on your mother. Your parents hid the details well from you and your sister, but they couldn’t hide everything. Your sister knew less than you did because you refused to let her know exactly what was going on just yet. As you grew older, you realized that while your father had everything a person could ask for--a happy family, a well-paying job, and a great group of friends--your father slept with another woman under the influence of alcohol while at a friend's birthday party. He confessed to your mother out of guilt, and she filed for divorce in response.

You took the divorce pretty hard. You cried for nights into your pillow. It ripped your heart to no longer see your parents in the same space unless it was something to do with you kids. Once your sister realized what happened, her demeanor grew sadder. You couldn't bear the sight, so you did your best to be the best older sister. And it paid off. A few months after the living situation changed, you got used to things and added friendships to your list of things to pay attention to. While most of your friendships were healthy, you were forced to severe a few due to how toxic they got. Your struggles led to you being afraid of change.

In Mitakihara Middle School, you became friends with Homura Akemi. Although shy, she appeared more welcoming than the others who sat near you. She didn’t have many friendships, but so much of her free time in company was spent with you. Although you had since moved to a different class, she was your best friend, and you were was hers.

It felt like that begun to change, though, when Homura made friends with Madoka Kaname and Mami Tomoe. The bond between the three seemed to grow in a flash. You didn’t understand where that came from. You two used to always eat lunch together, but more & more often, Homura would excuse herself to eat with the others. You waved it off, acting as if you didn’t mind it. But you were jealous. Why did something—now some people—have to take someone else away from you?

One thing that didn’t change as often as the lunch-ditching was you two walking partway home together after school. It was during one of these instances that Homura made small noises as she was trying to figure out how to piece her thoughts together (it was just that easy to read her).

At last, she cleared her throat and asked, “(Y/N)-chan, if you could wish for anything in the world, what would you wish for?”

“A wish?” Your eyes lifted to the sky. “Hmm. Probably for a lot of money.”

“Even if you could have superpowers or change the past or anything like that?”

“Oh. We can do that. Well, then I guess my wish would be to stop the future from changing too much.”

“Why is that?”

“I just…I guess I feel more comfortable knowing that the happiness I have would stay that way. I don’t like sudden changes. It would be nice to have some things change in my past, but I don’t know if I would use my wish to change those. I think I would rather focus on the future.”

You knew deep in your heart, you wished you could change things no matter the time.

--

"FIRE FIRE!"

"STAY BACK, GIRL!"

"NO! My sister is in there! Mom! Dad!" you screamed as you wrestled your way out of the neighbor's arms. You ran towards your burning house only to be blocked by the strong arms of a firefighter.

The rest of the evening was a blur. Sometime during the aftermath, you were transported to live at your aunt's house. That night, you tried to remember what you could. Your sister messaged you that your father had arrived to discuss changes in custody plans; the family was going to wait until you came home from after-school tutoring to talk about it. You recalled walking down the street your house on fire. Black smoke filled the air, and a crowd of people came to watch the firefighters tackle it. Your aunt picked you up from the police station and took you home. She tried to comfort you, but all you did was cry in her arms and laid in bed, where you are now. Your lungs had grown tired of heaving. Your eyes burned.

Knock Knock!

Your breath hitched. That didn’t sound like the door. You could turn around and check, but why would anyone be knocking on it at all, especially at 3 in the morning? Perhaps it was the house’s old interior sounding its age.

Knock Knock

Yeah, that definitely wasn’t it.

You got up and turned towards the window. Blue curtains covered it. Your mind screamed at you to run out the room and tell your aunt, but your gut urged you forward. It was unfortunate you were not in the right headspace to make reasonable decisions. You pulled back one of the curtains, albeit slowly, and recoiled with a shriek upon seeing a white creature that looked like a celestial variant of a cat.

The creature disappeared behind the falling curtain. "Don't worry. I know I'm scary, but I'm here to help you."

It can talk? Is this actually happening? You took a deep breath in. "Help me? Why? How?"

"Your family died in a fire, right?"

"They died?!" You yanked the curtain back and held it open. "How do you know that?! No one told me they were dead!"

The creature stared at you with beady, black eyes, white tail wagging. "I don't know. I was just guessing. It's hard to miss a huge crowd and a big fire."

Your brows furrowed. "You can't just say that and not be sure it's true!"

"I'm sorry. But if it were true, I can help you. Even right now, if your family is paralyzed, I can help you."

"You can...? No, more importantly, what are you?"

"It might be easier to explain it to you inside. It's a lot to digest in one night, especially with how distraught you've been."

The most logical and safest decision would be to shut your curtains and call it a night, but your curiosity crept into you at the worst time. This was the first time you'd ever seen a talking creature so unique, and it might be your last. Its presence brought about numerous questions.

Once you let it in, it sat on your bed in front of you and explained that it sensed your despair upon noticing you at the scene of the disaster and followed you to your aunt's house. Kyubey, the name the creature shared, told you that while he did not know the state your family was in, he could grant any wish you desired, including saving your family. It had already granted wishes to a couple girls in Mitakihara City, and it didn't mind adding another one. These girls, known as Magical Girls, would fight witches in exchange for their desire. It was tough work, Kyubey explained, but a cost to pay for the endless possibilities available.

You didn't believe Kyubey at first, so it allowed you several days to think about it. A week had passed, and you weren't ready to make a wish. But you were pretty close. Your aunt shared the news that all of your family members made it, but all but your parents were in emergency care and suffered serious burns. They weren't sure yet if they would ever be able to work or function as efficiently as before. Your younger sister was in better condition, but she was clearly traumatized. When you visited her room with your aunt, she cried the whole visit and didn't want to let you go; you had to pry her off with the reassurance you'd come back soon.

Although unprepared, you needed to go to school. Imagine your surprise when, while walking to class, you spotted Homura talking to her new group of friends. On the shoulder of the pink-haired girl was Kyubey. The creature must have said something because the whole group--Homura, Madoka, and Mami--looked at Kyubey and giggled without a word shared among them. How was that even possible? Was there a joke you were missing? Was Homura part of them?

Just then, Kyubey spotted you and hopped down, but you were quick to turn around and walk away. No one else would suspect a thing, seeing as no other student questioned the strange creature trotting freely in a circle.

"(Y/N)-chan!"

You inhaled sharply. Your head was too full of thoughts to want to think anymore, nonetheless speak. But alas, your heart warmed at the voice who called your name. You donned a smile and turned around, acting surprised. "Homura-chan? Ah, I'm sorry, I didn't notice you. I haven't been well, lately."

Homura's grabbed your hand and massaged it with her fingers. "I heard about what happened. Will you be okay? You should take more days off from school."

"I'll be fine; don't worry about me."

You noticed the group of people behind her approaching. Your heart fell into your stomach, but you couldn't bring yourself to pull away so quickly.

The tall, yellow-haired girl greeted with a warm smile, "Hello, nice to meet you. You must be Homura-chan's friend? I'm Mami Tomoe."

"And I'm Madoka!" the girl exclaimed, taking your other hand. Kyubey's black eyes stared at you. "I've seen you around before, a different class. Do you want to join us for lunch later?"

"I-uh, it's nice to meet you. I'm (Y/N) (Last Name). Thank you for the offer, but this week has been pretty rough, so I'd like to save my energy for now." You bowed your head. "I should get going to my class now. I hope I will see you all later."

"Of course. Please come to us whenever you want!"

You turned and went on your way. You knew only what you heard about those two, which wasn't much, and you didn't want to get entangled in them.

"(Y/N)-chan..." Homura appeared beside you with an expression of concern. "Can I walk with you to class?"

"Oh. Of course you can."

"Thank you." The two of you walked in silence before she spoke again. "Are you mad at me?"

You looked at her with shock. "What? No! Why would I hate you? You're my best friend, Homura-chan. It's just...there's a lot going on right now. Please give me some time to go back to my old self."

"Oh. Well, if you say so." She smiled. Her fingers lightly grazed yours. "You know where to find me when you're ready."

It turns out you were never ready. That night, Kyubey visited your aunt's house and confirmed that the three girls were all Magical Girls. He also promised that he wouldn't tell them that you were a Magical Girl as well since he noticed your reluctance. You wanted to avoid them at all costs. Unfortunately, "them" also included Homura, your dear friend.

It was a week later that your aunt came to your room crying, sharing that your father--her brother--was in a critical state and might not make it. You spent the day comforting her and letting her comfort you while your sense of normalcy seemed to slip away. She didn't know for certain if the others would make it either.

But you were going to make sure of it.

When your aunt left your room, Kyubey snuck inside upon your request. You clasped your hands in your lap and looked at it sternly. "I want to make a wish."

"What wish would you like me to grant?"

"I want to make it so that I never experience change, from the time before my house caught on fire."

"Are you sure you don't want to simply wish for your family to live in a healthy state forever?"

You licked your lips in the brief pause that came. Then, you nodded your head despite the sinking feeling in your gut. "If any wish can really be granted, I want to make it count. Interpret it as you will. Changes in my life have made me happy but also sad; sometimes I can't bounce back from them."

"What if you never age or get frozen in time?"

"I would much prefer the never-age part."

Kyubey hopped onto the window sill. "That will be for the universe to decide."

The creature finally granted your wish. From your body, a soul gem of white was extracted quite painfully. It felt like all of the blood in your body rushed into your head as your new attire was made: a decorative short dress of white and purple, white gloves, white stockings, and royal purple boots. Kyubey ordered you to fall asleep once it taught you how to shift out of your outfit so it could teach you more about being a Magical Girl the next day.

When you woke up, you almost couldn't believe your eyes. The familiar texture of your childhood blanket and the comforting smell of your home--your real home--was ecstasy to your body. You sat there for a couple minutes recalling what had occurred last night. Fear crawled along your spine. You didn't know exactly what had changed and what hadn't, but if you were in your home, that could only mean one thing.

You ran downstairs to the kitchen, where your mother was preparing breakfast. She turned to your heavy footsteps with wide eyes. "(Y/N)? What's wrong? Are you oh--OH!"

Her back hit the sink at the impact of your embrace. Your face was nearly buried in her chest. Once you both steadied yourselves, she caressed your head in her hands, running fingers through your hair. "Sweetie, what's wrong?"

"I just had a nightmare is all," you answered, secretly wiping your tears in her shirt. "It was scary."

"Hey, what's all this ruckus about?"

Dad? You turned around to see the very man walking downstairs in his pajamas, your little sister in tow. She peeked beside his legs and offered a concerned look.

“Honey, it’s okay. She just had a nightmare,” your mother reassured. “You do have to get ready for school, though, (Y/N). It’s morning already.”

“Ah, yeah. Okay.”

And just like that, your family was fixed. It took a couple days to get used to it, even more so that your younger sister had no recollection of bonding over the exhausting nights, but it was worth it.

It didn’t take long to realize that not everything had changed, and the things that did were not always consistent with a point in time. Homura was still friends with Mami and Madoka, and your class lessons were the same as before. But apparently, some friends you’d made in your childhood but drifted off after they moved to other cities messaged you as if it was the norm. It appeared that in this timeline, you maintained those friendships well. The day you realized this, you spent the whole evening learning what conversations you’d had with them. It was strange to investigate yourself.

Every two nights or so, you’d sneak out of the house to venture to what Kyubey labeled as your territory, though it wasn’t officially yours. It just made it far from the other magical girls—the group with Madoka—since you still weren’t ready for them to confront you about being one. Especially Homura. You could barely make a coherent thought about what wish she could have possibly made to sacrifice her life. Anyhow, you would spend the nights hunting down wishes and purifying your Soul Gem. One day, after going about the next couple days as normal, you got hit with a nostalgic feeling but didn't know why. It was only until you listened to your class lecture that you realized you'd heard the exact lecture and the following lesson before. You glanced at your classmates, but no one acted anything out of the ordinary.

You continued about your day without any changes, other than observing things more closely. The same thing occurred over the next couple days. You’d guess that time had been reversed at least five times, but you couldn’t be sure because you were just so confused.

After class one day, you decided to explore the entire school building. Before you became a Magical Girl, you'd always stick you the rooms where you needed to be in--your classroom, the cafeteria, and the gym--because you never felt the need to, didn't want to be embarrassed by looking clueless, and worried you'd be scolded by teachers. Now, you felt empowered. Getting an earful from adults was nothing to risking your life regularly.

As you explored, you stumbled upon a familiar, pink-haired girl following behind your best friend, Homura. A part of you wanted to walk another way before they saw you. After all, you've been avoiding them for at least a month now (minus the days in time reversal, but you were also avoiding the group during that time too). But you still cherished your friendship with Homura.

"Homura-chan!" you called, jogging over to them. Once you got closer, you slowed and looked the girl up and down. "Oh. You let down your hair; that's new. Where are your glasses?"

"Oh. Uh. I got contacts."

"Huh. I didn't know. I'm sorry for not talking to you for so long." You grabbed her hand with both of yours. "I wasn't in the mood or right mindset to talk, but I feel better now. Do you want to meet up sometime today?" You then turned to the other girl. "Is it okay if I spend some time with Homura-chan alone first before taking your offer to eat lunch? I would love to eat with you guys."

Madoka blinked. "Offer?"

"Yeah, it was a while ago. When you, Homura-chan, and Mami-senpai stopped me in the hall? Do you remember, Madoka-chan?"

"How...how do you know my name?" She bowed her head sheepishly. "I don't think I've met you before..."

"Huh? You introduced yourself to me. I know it's been a while, but I'm--"

"I think you have things mixed up." Homura squeezed your hand and let it go. For the first time in your friendship, she shot you a harsh look, as if you'd just worn shorts to a formal ball. "Let's meet tomorrow at your house. I'm busy."

"Wha...? Uh, sure. I'll text you my address. Let me know when you plan on coming." You turned to Madoka. "I'm sorry. I hope to meet you again."

You headed straight for the bathroom and did your best from letting teardrops fall from your face. Homura had never treated you like that. Did you do something wrong? Why didn't Madoka remember you? That was such an embarrassing conversation. You should have just ignored them. But good news was you finally get to hang out with Homura. Though, she has never gone to your house, and it was out of character of her to suggest such a place without asking for your suggestion on where to go. You weren't going to let this opportunity slip away, however. Besides, you didn't know how you'd even cancel on her after such a display.

You messaged Homura your address after school, but she didn't reply until an hour after you returned home. Your parents were still at work, and your younger sister was at a friend's house, so you were relieved you could spare them from a sudden guest invite.

The message Homura sent was: "I'm at your door."

How bland.

Now changed into presentable pajamas, you went downstairs and opened the door. Homura was still in her school attire. She took off her shoes, placed them on the shoe rack, and took her school bag off her shoulders. "Thank you. Excuse me."

"Oh. Of course. You can put your bag on the couch." You watched as she did so as you locked the door. "My family is out right now. Would you like something to drink? Water? Tea?"

"No thank you."

"Then, do you want to head to my room?"

"Here is fine. Let's talk on the couch."

"Sure! Let me just get a drink." You made a cup of ginseng tea and sat near Homura on the same couch. After taking a sip, you set the cup down on a brown coaster. "So, your hair and contacts. What made you decide on a new look? I like it; I'm just curious."

"Do you know what Kyubey is?"

You froze for a second or two. Then, you gave a slight chuckle. "Kyubey? What do you mean?"

"(Y/N)-chan. Tell me the truth. Did you make a contract with Kyubey?"

Crap.

You pursed your lip. Magical Girls were meant to be kept a secret from ordinary civilians. You knew she was one, but you thought she didn't know you were one. Now, you weren't sure. Her stern expression only made you uneasy about deciding an answer.

At last, you caved with a sigh. "I did."

Homura's eyebrows knit, making her expression even more firm. "Why would you do that? You know your life is going to be at stake forever now."

"I know, but I just..." You faced your cup of tea, which was still steaming. "I haven't told you about my family yet. I'll spare you the details, at least for now. We used to be happy, but things happened and it fell apart. Then, I just kind of...aside from that, I felt lonely. I don't have many friends, and you started hanging out with Madoka-chan and Mami-senpai more so...so I made a wish that would make me happy."

"What did you wish for?"

"Um. Honestly, I can't remember the exact wording," you answered with another nervous chuckle. "Something along the lines of things never changing. Kyubey told me the universe would decide how to interpret that. Luckily, not everything remained the same. Only the major things, I guess."

Before you could think of something else to add, your breath was thrown out of your body by Homura launching towards you and yanking the collar of your pajama shirt closer to her. Her wide, purple eyes pierced yours. "How long ago did you make this wish?!"

"I-I think two months ago."

"Two months...you definitely saw Kyubey with us, right? Me, Madoka, and Mami. Why didn't you ever mention anything?"

"Because I didn't feel like it!" you exclaimed, removing her hand from your collar. "Why didn't YOU say anything about being a Magical Girl? Was that why you were with them all the time?"

"Yes. Partly. I wasn't a Magical Girl the whole time I was with them. I just followed them on their adventures."

"What? That's possible?"

"Yes. A terrible witch named Walpurgisnacht was going to destory Mitakihara City, and Madoka saved us. She sacrificed herself to save us. She asked me to save her, so I made a wish to save Madoka. It was strong enough to give me the ability to go through different timelines; I'll make as many as I need to to prevent her from becoming a Magical Girl."

"Madoka..." Your heart ached. "Is she that important to you that you're willing to use your wish to save her? You just left everything you knew behind and reversed time."

"Yes. She is." Homura leaned closer. "I realized something wasn't right about you when you talked to me and Madoka. You weren't supposed to remember her. I asked Kyubey about you and confirmed my suspicions, though it doesn't recall ever making a wish for you."

Kyubey! You rat!

As if struck by something, Homura suddenly pulled away from you and stood. She grabbed her bag and slung it on her shoulder. "I've learned all I needed. I'll be going now. From now on, please don't get in my way."

You shot up from your seat. "Get in your way? Like, never talk to you again?"

"If it need be."

"Homura! You're crazy!" You hurried over to her and snatched her hand before she could walk any further. "How could you abandon our friendship like this?!"

"I don't want you to get involved in this. It's better if--"

"Do you really care that little about me?!"

"No! What are you assuming?!" Homura spun around and grabbed your shoulders. Her grip dug into your skin. "I'm asking you to stay away because I care for you!"

"We're both risking our lives here! What if you die?!"

"I won't. Trust me."

"Do you really love Madoka-chan more than me?"

"What?"

Tears fell from your eyes. As much as you tried to reason in your mind how selfless Homura was to use her wish to save her friend, you couldn't help but feel as if you've been tossed aside. If Madoka was newest ballerina in a play, you were the one forced to retire. Your hands gripped Homura's wrists as you hiccupped. "Please don't leave me. Even after I made my wish, I wasn't able to be as close to you as before. Now you're going even further."

"(Y/N)-chan, please don't cry." She stepped closer and wiped your tears with the cuff of her sleeve. At last, her expression softened. "You'll make this even harder for me."

"Good. I love you."

Silence fell upon you two, but only for a bit. You brought one of her hands to your chest. "I love you. Take it as you will. Just don't leave me. You're my best friend, Homura-chan."

Homura took a deep breath. Her fingers brushed strands of hair out of your face. It was then you realized the faintest hint of tears in her eyes. After staring at your desperate face for a moment, she brought one of your hands to her lips and kissed it. "I'll meet you at your house tomorrow morning before school starts. I'll introduce you to Madoka. But you have to promise to stay by my side no matter what, even when we go hunting for witches. I don't want you to get hurt."

Your heart skipped a beat. You pulled her into a hug and buried your head into her neck. “I promise!"

Homura hugged you back even tighter. The both of you stood embracing each other for what seemed like hours. Neither of you seemed like wanting to let the other go. All moments come to an end, however. Homura pulled away, kissed you on the forehead, and bid you farewell. She closed the door, and you were alone again in your room, shaken and confused.

Did those kisses mean Homura loved you…romantically? Or were they platonic kisses? You weren’t sure. To be honest, even you didn’t know how you felt about her anymore about that outburst. Did you like her or did you like like her?

No matter. You’d find out overtime. In the meanwhile, you decided to rest your beating heart by heading to bed. Hopefully that night, you’d be able to find Homura and hunting witches together for the first time.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not telling my best friend I basically want to spend the rest of my life with her?

(This is long, I'm sorry, I'm incapable of shortly summarizing things)

Ok. So. I (26NB/FTM) am not in love with my best friend (25F), I'm ace and either aro or demiromantic (honestly not sure anymore). But I do love her as much as I can love anyone, probably. To the extent that I would want to be in a committed relationship (qpr I guess) with her and genuinely want to spend the rest of my life with her.

The thing is, she's neither aro nor ace and has only recently (last year) started overcoming fears and anxiety enough that she's gone on dates and wants to try having a relationship. It wasn't easy for her to get to this point and her anxiety is still a major thing she deals with, especially now trying to have a relationship. I know she doesn't love me romantically (not that I would particularly want her to) bc I'm firmly in the friend category and she's said that she can't fall in love with friends (though, again, I don't… want her to be in love me? Since I'm not in love with her either).

I want her to have these experiences. We're both still young and while I just don't need or want anything in that regard, I know it's different for her and in a way it's her finally being able to be herself, live for herself and do what she wants (she had a rough childhood and was basically the one raising her little brother). So, I really do want her to have these experiences and I'm not really jealous either bc I know I'm still more important to her ("bros before hoes" and all that, even if the hoes are guys lol). Though I have to admit it's recently been getting harder being genuinely happy for her when things go well with dates and I suppose I'm a little worried how things will be a few years down the line.

But we're very close. We've been friends for 8 years and best friends for almost as long. We tell each other everything. She's the most important person in my life and I'm the most important person in hers. We get mistaken for a couple constantly, at this point I'm pretty sure everyone in our families has at some point thought we're together. My mum basically treats her like a daughter; she's spent the last 3 Christmases with my family. Besides her brother, I'm the only person she truly cares about who she doesn't get anxious about. The reason I'm going to be moving back home after uni is because she still lives in the area; if she lived somewhere else I'd move there (that's not me being one-sidedly codependent btw, she would absolutely do the same). The jokes about how we need to die at the same time bc neither of us would want to live on alone are really only partly jokes.

Now, here's (finally) where I might be an asshole: When we were in school our friend group consisted of four guys, me and her. All the guys had a crush on her, though some she only found out about later. My best friend, at the time, identified as a lesbian (it's bi probably now). The guys knew that. Now this one guy she only found out about last year at a class reunion (I wasn't there) and he was being all weird about how he'd seen all the times they went to the movies together as dates etc. She thought they were jokingly calling those 'dates', we all did. Again, he knew she identified as gay and never actually said anything about being in love with her. He was also giving off incel-y vibes when she talked with him at the class reunion, so there's that.

We talked about that and well, I kinda admitted that there'd been a moment yeaaaaars ago (like 5?6?) where I felt myself fall in love with her and mentally went 'nope, nope, nope, not doing that (falling in love my best friend) again' and then… it didn't happen. Don't know how that worked. Either way, she made me promise if I ever did actually fall in love with her, that I would tell her. We were laughing about it but I know she was serious about that.

I don't plan on telling her though. I meaaaan I'm not in love with her, technically, which yes, I know, she would probably mean this too. But I know that, at least at this point in time, she doesn't want the same things I want and I want her to have these experiences of dating guys and being in a (allo) relationship etc. I don't want our relationship right now to change either and I know she would try to be considerate and I don't need or want that. I don't want her to overthink what she can or can't tell me, I don't mind hearing her talk about the guys she's dating and I want her to still come to me with everything. I know how she works, I've been basically managing her anxiety for years (genuinely do not mind that before anyone comes talking to me about boundaries) and I know I'm one of the few people in her life who try to let her come to her own conclusions/decisions instead of telling her what they think is right and/or what she should do (she's very easily influenced unfortunately and while I do tell her my opinions if she asks for them, I always try to let her come to her own conclusions first). I don't want her to lose all that. I don't want her to suddenly be anxious about me either, that is genuinely the last thing I would ever want.

TLDR: My best friend made me promise her that I would tell her if I fell in love with her, which I'm technically not, but I do want to spend the rest of my life with her & would want to be in a (queerplatonic) committed relationship with her. I don't want to tell her bc I know it's not what she wants, at least right now, and I want her to make her own experiences and I don't want our relationship to change with this.

AITA for not telling her I would want to be in a (queerplatonic) relationship with her?

What are these acronyms?

[growup-thatbeautiful]

kissin’ in the cold

Tags: Benny Miller x Reader, Holiday Fic, Triple Frontier Fic, Fluff, Domestic Bliss, Christmas Fic,

Warnings: Kissing, cursing, holiday angst

Word Count: 1.5k

A/n: merry christmas to those who celebrate!! and to those who don’t, here’s a wintery fic based on the song kissin’ in the cold (one of my favorites) i love all the triple frontier boys so much, and benny is no exception.

“Benjamin Miller,” you sigh, your hand cupping his cheek gently. You trace the laugh lines around his eyes and thumb over his bottom lip. He shines gold in the morning light, brazen against the cream colored sheets. His smile, though, is what has your attention, like it always has. It lights up your darkest days and makes your happy ones even warmer.

“Hi, honey,” he drawls, shuffling closer to you. “How are you this fine morning?”

You hum lightly and lean in to peck him on the lips softly. Instinctively, he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you into him closer, signing into your mouth.

“Better,” you smile. Of course Benny knows, just from moments of being awake, that the holiday gloom has already set in.

The years you spent without him at home make this Christmas more meaningful, something you can appreciate, but there are other reasons that this time of year makes you feel a special kind of pain.

A lot of things have changed since you were a kid, young and in love with the same Benny. You used to be the one people looked at with envy, saying that you were lucky to have found someone so young who made you whole. At that time, Christmas meant time with family, laughing cuddled up in warm blankets, and home-cooked food. You could go ice-skating at the tiny, fake-ice rink in the town square with your hand in Benny’s and feel pride as the other girls stared at you with jealous gazes.

But things changed so quickly when Benny went away. You were happy for him, you really truly were, but it was hard being alone. While all of your college friends went out and meet new people, you were stuck at home, praying for a phone call or a text or anything at all from someone who was hundreds of miles away. So, Christmas meant being curled up alone in your childhood bedroom, those same blankets curled around you, but you were always missing the warmth of Benny’s form next to you, because it was so hard to be without something you had for so long. You didn’t go ice skating and the chill of the winter air was unavoidable without Benny’s jackets.

Then he came back, and he was still your Benny, still easy to crack a joke and be the life of everyone’s party, but he was also different. His laugh was more reserved and his hands shook when the sun went down. He started getting nightmares that woke you up in the middle of the night and sometimes, on the worst days, he doesn’t say a word to you.

You didn’t let that get in the way, though. He was still your Benny, still the absolute love of your life and the one person you reach for at night. It’s always been first nature to give Benny everything, and you don’t think that will ever change. No matter what happens, you’re going to love Benny endlessly.

“Care to share your thoughts?” Benny asks, cupping your neck. His hands are warm and safe, and they provide a feeling of comfort that no one else gives you. “I can see those wheels turning, sweetheart.”

You’ve never been able to hide anything from him, so it’s no surprise when your thoughts come bubbling out of your mouth. “Do you ever think we’re behind everyone else? Like, the world is moving on but we’re stuck in the same place we’ve been forever.”

“Maybe,” he admits, sitting up and bringing you with him, your backs to the headboard. The material of Benny’s t-shirt is thin and the chill of the morning air seeps through, but Benny pulls you in under his arm before goosebumps can skatter your skin. “But only if you look at it like that. Sure, there are people who have their shit together more than we do, but the way I see it, we’re further along than anyone else. I’ve known you’re the one for me since I was fucking thirteen, baby, and none of the other stuff matters. As far as I’m concerned, we can do anything anyone else can do just as easily.”

“You think so?” you ask, tracing patterns across his hand.

“Honey,” he drawls, “I know so. You’re the only person that I want to be with for the rest of my life. I thought I made that clear years ago.”

“Oh,” you say stupidly, a dumb smile on your face.

Benny must be able to see the loss of words on your face, because he nods definitely and tilts your chin up to him. “Come on, sweetheart, let’s get the morning started.”

“It’s early,” you complain. “And the bed is warmer than anywhere else.”

“I’ll keep you warm,” Benny says with an over-exaggerated eyebrow waggle.

“Shut up, Benny,” you groan, climbing out of your bed behind him. “You’re the fucking worst.”

“Yeah, but you love me,” he grins, grabbing your hand and leading you to your kitchen. Your home is cozy, but it’s exactly what you want with Benny. You’re close to his family and Will, which is what’s important to him, and it’s far enough away from yours for you to feel independent enough. All of the rooms have huge windows that allow a great deal of sunlight through them, perfect for quiet afternoons.

“Coffee or tea?” Benny asks, rifling around the kitchen to find his favorite mug, a blue ceramic with bright yellow polka dots.

“Coffee,” you say, hopping up onto the counter across from him. “With lots of milk.”

“Fucking disgusting,” he chirps happily as he makes the coffee. “At least let me use the shitty coffee so you don’t ruin the good stuff.”

“All tastes the same to me,” you reply, swinging your legs. Benny’s shoulders shake with laughter as he shakes his head, and you grin even though he can’t see you.

“You’re insane, honey,” Benny says without turning around. Once the coffee maker is started, he turns around and faces you, his arms crossed across his chest. You take the moment to appreciate Benny; his broad shoulders and golden hair, the way it falls in front of his face when he hasn’t touched it in the morning, his blue eyes that are cunning and sharp, but also kind and joyful. The plain black t-shirt he’s wearing hugs his muscles beautifully and accentuates the V of his hips. As per your tradition, he’s wearing matching pajama pants to yours, a plain red and black checkered pattern.

“Do you like the view?” Benny asks, that smug grin you’ve come to love in his face. The coffee machine’s insistent beeping saves you from having to answer. He pours both of your coffee, dramatically adding sugar and milk to yours while rolling his eyes. She hands you the mug and you take a sip.

“Holy shit,” Benny breathes, his eyes somewhere beyond you. “It’s snowing.”

“Benny, I’m not falling for that. We’re in Texas, for fucks sake. It was forty outside yesterday.”

“I’m not joking, turn around,” he says, boyish excitement on his face.

“No way,” you laugh, looking over at Benny, who’s grinning conspiratorially, like he had anything to do with the weather. “No fucking way.”

“I wish I could claim this as part of my plan.” Benny drawls, “But snow in Texas is beyond my power. Shall we?”

There are excited tears in your eyes, ones that Benny definitely sees, because he makes a gentle soothing noise and wipes them away with the pads of his thumbs. “Come on, sweetheart. Who knows how long this is going to last.”

Both of you rush to the coat room and don your heaviest coat, which, for you, means wearing one Benny’s coat because you don’t have any coat that would be heavy enough. You can’t stop laughing while you get dressed, and Benny is looking at you with that fine look in his eyes.

Still dressed in your pajamas, you throw open the front door and promptly land on your ass in the snow.

“Shit,” Benny laughs, reaching for you and slipping himself. “I should have known better than to trust you with a task of balance.”

“Fuck off,” you say, grabbing the hand that he offers you and pulling him down next to you. Despite the fact that you know he could easily remain upright, he falls down beside you and splays his arms out wide.

“It’s really pretty,” you say, looking up at the sky, with the crystal snowflakes drifting down from gray clouds.

“Yeah,” he agrees, but you can feel his gaze on the side of your face, not up at the sky.

“You’re a cliche, Benjamin.” Your words lack any conviction whatsoever as you scoot closer to him, ignoring the melted snow creeping through your clothes.

“Only for you, honey.”

“Sap,” you accuse softly, leaning in and kissing him gently, your hand creeping up to cup his jaw.

“Your sap,” corrects Benny in between kisses. His hand taps you on the nose and you scruntch it up, making him smile wider.

Laying with him on the snowy concrete, it’s easy to forget the past; to forget all of the reasons you have to feel sad right now. Things can only be so bad if you have Benny by your side. “I love you, Benny.”

“I love you too, honey. For this Christmas and the next, I’ll love you.” By the scarf around you neck, he draws you in for another kiss, sweet and slow.

Maybe this year, Christmas will be okay, because no matter what, you have Benny here to kiss you in the cold, where snow falls into your eyelashes and turns Benny’s cheeks cherry red.

“Hey, pendejos, get a fucking room,” a voice calls from your driveway. You look over and see Frankie standing by his car, along with Will and Santiago.

“Glad you could make it,” Benny replies, absolutely no remorse in his voice. He pats your hip and helps you up before grabbing your arm and leading you to the group of men.

“Benjamin told us that you were getting the holiday blues, so we decided to come by and see if we could help,” Santiago explains, a knowing look in his eye.

“Although,” Will adds wryly, “It looks like he might be doing a good enough job on his own.”

“Nonsense. She needs us to make sure they don’t freeze out here. Benny could stay out here for hours without complaint,” Frankie quips, opening his arms for a hug, which you dutifully give. One by one, you greet each of them, ending with Santiago, who appraises you with an older brother’s gaze.

“Let’s get inside,” Benny says, leading the group through the front door. They follow his lead to the living room, where they fill in the mismatched sofas and armchairs, loud and boisterous and home.

You make your way into the kitchen and start a kettle for tea, which you know most of them won’t drink, but you can’t stop the hospitality that brews in you when you have guests. Benny follows behind you and traps you in against the counter, his hands coming to grasp your waist.

“Thank you for inviting them,” you say, your palms sliding up his chest. “You didn’t have to do that. Just you being here would have been enough.”

Benny shakes his head and kisses you the cheek, nosing along your jaw. “I don’t want you to just be okay, I want you to be better than that, and there’s no one better to cheer you up than the boys. It’s common logic, sweetheart.”

“You’re too fucking good for me, Benny,” you sigh. “There’s no way I deserve you.”

“I think you got that mixed up, honey,” Benny laughs, pushing off from the counter and leaning against the wall across from you. “Now, what did you plan on putting in that tea, because Pope won’t touch it unless it’s spiked.”

“I think we can find something,” you grin, looking through your drawers for the tea bags. “Oh, and Benny?”

“Yeah?”

“You have snow in your hair.”