#did not find what i was looking for when i set out to expand the endling cult playlist but i did find this

[idontevenknowwhatt]

Surprise

Summary: Y/n has been keeping a secret from Emily and hasn’t had the opportunity to tell her wife. The secret is revealed not in the way you had hoped but sometimes the unexpected can be perfect.

Warnings: Talks about miscarriages, fertility struggles and pregnancy in general. Small allusion to smut but no actual smut.

Word Count: 1721

A/N: Hello again, it’s been a bit since I’ve posted anything but this is my first Emily Prentiss x reader. This is set when Emily is Unit Chief and won’t follow any specific episode. I hope you all enjoy it :))

—--------------------------------------------

You loved your wife. More than anything else in the world. But since becoming the BAU’s Unit Chief a couple months ago she was a lot busier. Whether it was paperwork or meetings, she had a lot on her plate.

You weren’t mad or upset, if anything you were incredibly proud. But you still missed your wife, even though you worked with her everyday.

You had both adjusted pretty quickly to her new workload and always made sure to spend with one another as much as possible. But this week had been particularly bad. She would mostly be out of the house before you even woke up or leaving as you started to get ready. Then she’d be in her office hours after the team went home.

You knew it was just going to be one of those weeks and you just had be there to support you wife if she needed anything.

You’d been feeling sick all week and at first you had put it down to something you’d ate. But as the week went on, so did the nausea and the body aches.

If it had been a normal week Emily would have noticed immediately. But with how busy she was, she really only saw you when you were in bed or in passing at work.

You hadn’t thought much else about the sickness you had been feeling until yesterday morning. Emily had just left the house when you got up. As you walked towards the kitchen the smell of coffee had set you off and caused you to sprint into the bathroom and empty the contents of your stomach.

That’s when it hit you. You had wrapped a case the week before in Idaho and hadn’t even noticed that your period was late. And not just a little, by almost 2 months. It all started to make sense.

You and Emily have been married for four years and decided that you were both ready to expand your family. You’d both picked out a sperm donor that had similar looks to Emily and had been trying for a baby for months now.

You were lucky to have a positive test come back fairly fast and Emily was ecstatic. The idea of you growing her child inside you made her so happy.

So when you had a doctors appointment to confirm everything, you were both heartbroken to find out that it was a false positive.

That night you had sobbed in Emily’s arms while she too cried and held you tightly to her chest, whispering reassuring words into your ear. You knew that it was only the first try and that it was unlikely to happen anyway. But it still hurt, you were so close.

Since then you had tried multiple times but the test kept coming back negative. It was soul destroying to both of you. You had blamed yourself and thought that there was something wrong with your body. Emily made sure to reassure you that it wasn’t but it was still hard.

So you tried not to get too excited while waiting for the pregnancy tests that sat on the counter. The happiness that flooded your body when all three came up positive was overwhelming and the tears started running.

But there’s was still something in the back of your mind that told you that it wasn’t real and it was just more false positives.

Luckily you didn’t start until 10am and had plenty of time to book a last minute blood test. The joy you felt when it confirmed what you and Emily had been hoping for was one of the greatest feelings.

Now you just had to figure out the best way to tell your wife. As it was now Friday and finally the end of the week, you thought that it was the perfect night to tell her. And frankly you didn’t know how much longer you could keep it in.

You had sneaked out and bought a cute little onesie and planned on leaving it on your bed with the positive pregnancy tests. It was a simple idea but that’s all you wanted.

You were barely able to focus on your work all day and swore the day couldn’t have gone any slower. As the team slowly started filtering out and wishing you a good weekend you started to get anxious.

Emily was still in her office doing paperwork and was so focused she didn’t even realise the team had left.

Making your way up to her office you knocked and slipped in without waiting for an answer. Emily’s head shot up ready to reprimand someone for entering her office without permission. But the moment her eyes me yours her entire face softened.

“Hey baby” she said as you made your way around her desk to stand in front of her. “Everything okay?”

“Yea, I just miss my wife” you smiled leaning down to peck her lips.

Emily smiled into the kiss and you could feel tension start to leave her body at the small contact.

“Well I miss you more” she pulled you down to straddle her lap. Her arms snake around your waist pulling you closer and her hands start to rub soothing circles on your lower back. Instinctively your arms found there way around her neck and you fingers gently played with the hair at the back of her neck.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been home much this week.”

“It’s okay” you cut in before she can apologise any more. “I get it, you’ve got a job to do and not every week is like this week. It will get better. Plus I know you’ll make it up to me later”

She sees the smirk on your face and her hands move to squeeze your hips.

“Oh I promise I will, you can count on it” she smirks back with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I’m pretty much done here if you’re ready to head home?”

“That sounds amazing” you smile tightly getting a rush of nerves at the thought of the onesie laying on your bed at home.

“Hey, you okay baby?” Emily of course notices your body language change immediately. Concern laces her face and her brows furrow. “Did something happen?”

“No of course not” your too quick to reassure her. “Well, sort of but nothing for you to worry about”

You really should have just left the last part off but you’re practically bursting wanting to tell her.

“What do you mean? Did someone say something to you?”

“Babe, no one said anything”

“Well something happened, I’m not gonna stop worrying until you tell me what it is” her hand moves to caress your cheek and you can’t help but lean into her touch. God she was your weakness. “Talk to me baby”

“Em…”

“Is this about my workload, cause I meant what I said. I’m sorry about this week, I just-”

“Emily, it’s not about this week. I told you I get it”

“Well then what is it? I can tell somethings off”

“Em it’s about us”

“The two of us?” Her face is full of confusion which quickly turns to concern for your relationship.

“The three of us” you place her hand on top of your stomach and cover it with your own. “I’m pregnant baby”

“You’re pregnant?” You swear you can feel her heart stop for a brief moment.

“I’m pregnant” you confirm tears forming in your eyes.

For a moment you’re unsure of her reaction, she just sits there stunned. It definitely wasn’t the news she was expecting.

Before you can think much more about it here lips are on yours as she gives you a loving and passionate kiss. She pulls your body impossibly closer as tears start to stream down her face.

She pulls back to look at you, her hand and yours still resting against your stomach.

“I love you so much” she kisses you again.

“I love you too”

“When did you find out? Please tell me you haven’t been holding out on me for too long because of work”

“I only found out yesterday morning, I was feeling sick all week but I didn’t think much of it” her smile never disappears as you talk. “I didn’t even realise I was late until yesterday too. So I took a bunch of tests and they all came back positive.”

“And they’re not-”

“No” you interrupt her before any more doubt can flood her mind. “I got a last minute blood test yesterday too. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you first but I didn’t want to get your hopes up if it was another false positive”

“Oh honey, you could have told me anyway” her face softens. “We’re in this together, remember?”

“I know, I just wanted it to be perfect when I told you” you gesture with your hand “this is not the way I planned on telling you. There’s a onesie sitting on our bed at home”

“This was perfect” she reassures you leaning in to place a kiss on your lips.

“I’m almost seven weeks” you see her smile grow. “You know I’m surprised you haven’t noticed yet, my boobs are already getting bigger.”

Her eyes flick down to your breasts and her lips twitch into a smirk.

“You know considering how much you love to touch them” you giggle.

“Well they are magnificent” she defends reaching to give them a gentle squeeze making you moan lightly. “God I love you, thank you for carrying our child and making us moms”

“I’d do it twenty times if it made you happy” you smile. “Okay maybe not twenty but you know what I mean”

“I know baby” she laughs. “You wanna head home now? Show me that onesie you bought?”

“That sounds perfect” you hop off her lap and intertwine your hand with hers as she stands. “You know I’m a little sore, I could do with a bubble bath with my wife”

“I think that can be arranged” she smiles leaning in to captures your lips.

—--------------------------------------------

[occasionallyprosie]

"Hiding Behind Plaster and Ceremics"

Chapter 3

Wind reveals something. This marks the beginning of something new.

<<Previous

Read On AO3

Finally actually just ending this one, I've had this chapter drafted so long I feel bad not posting it but I really don't think there's much more to be added to this fic.

----

Legend really didn't like the new status quo. Twilight was very defensive of him, which he was on the fence about to be honest, and Warriors just kept giving him weird looks. Contrast that with the fact he couldn't get any space because Hyrule and Sky were trying hard to get close and he'd promised Twilight he'd try not to be as mean.

Which really just meant he couldn't force the others to just leave him alone. Even after he got over the sickness, they stuck close and he could feel his nerves turn to fire as he couldn't get time to himself.

He was biting down on his tongue, trying desperately to avoid them without breaking his promise to Twilight. Now, not only was he trying to avoid getting attached, he was also just trying to not snap as every nerve, every coil, every spring prepared to get set off because everything was just too close.

They were just starting to make camp when Wind chose his chore for it.

"I'm going on patrol!" He declared.

"Fine, but take someone with you," Warriors reminded him, the usual rule for leaving the larger group.

"Come on, Scholar!"

Legend startled as Wind grabbed his sleeve--not his arm, his sleeve--and dragged him off. He quickly pulled himself free but meeting Wind's eyes--Ocean's eyes, bright and expectant and far too smart--meant he was following him.

Wind happily moved across the rainforest floor, seemingly accustomed to brushing aside underbrush as tall as they were.

Legend decided not to ask why and just followed, letting a distance form between them and letting himself just... relax in the silence and space.

They did a number of expanding loops around the chosen campsite, only coming across some tektites at a nearby river and some Deku Babas here and there. As they turned to go back, having been silent the entire time, Wind spoke up.

"You need more time?" He asked, facing him with an overly knowing expression.

Legend frowned. "What?"

"More time alone and away from everyone?" He clarified, a wry smirk tugging at his lips. "Don’t tell me our ever-aware spitfire didn't notice I dragged him off so he wouldn't explode on everyone."

Spitfire. He'd been called that before by exactly one person, the kid in front of him. Not that he'd say it first.

"Oh," he responded, definitely with the eloquence of the scholar he was nicknamed for. "Why?"

Wind laughed. "Please, I could tell you were getting antsy, I just didn't want to find out if you getting overwhelmed by people is the same now as it was in Hytopia."

Legend stopped in his tracks, Wind noticed immediately and looked at him, a wryness in his eyes.

"You--"

"You think I couldn't recognize you?" Wind scoffed, as if insulted. "I recognized you when we met, but, well, you never said anything, and then you snapped at everyone and cursed out the Rancher when he tried to scold you for your language 'cause of the Smithy and I." He sighed. "It wasn't until you got sick and--" he grinned a bit, "you were hiding behind the Rancher, and his pelt-cloak thingie made you look so much smaller, that I knew I was right. You just didn't say anything."

Legend stared at him but Wind just smiled brightly.

"Which is okay," he said, still just as warm as when he'd asked if he was ready to head back. "I get things change... I get that you've changed and I can tell that something about all of this scares you--you haven't changed that much, Apple."

Legend grimaced. "I'm not scared."

"Can't be courageous without a bit of fear," Wind retorted with a still-wry grin. "But my point is, I noticed you were getting antsy and needed some time away from everyone. So do you want more time, more space, or what? We probably have another hour before we need to get back."

Legend ended up just backing up into a tree and slumping down to the ground, Wind hummed lightly as he followed and sat in the grass in front of him, a solid three feet of space, if not more, between them.

Silence settled, and if Legend closed his eyes, Wind was somehow so silent that as long as he ignored his magic, he could pretend he was in complete solitude.

They stayed like that for a while until Legend broke the silence. "Why aren't you mad at me?"

Wind made a confused noise. "What'd'ya mean?"

"I mean--For not telling, for not saying anything, why aren't you mad?"

Legend wouldn't admit he probably would've completely shattered if Wind was ever genuinely mad at him, Forest was their big brother, yeah, but it had been Ocean who he'd stared at and tried so desperately to mimic during Hytopia, from the casual singing of work songs to the way he fought. All of that had been Ocean, and even the blue cap he still wore to this day was the one Ocean had given him when they'd separated, sure it had been mended and resewn and altered to fit his larger head, but it was the same cap.

Wind laughed at his question though. "Why would I be? It's been years for you, I don’t think you realize how obvious it is that you've been through a lot, and what's probably only obvious to me is that it all hurt."

Legend opened his eyes and looked over at him, Wind gave him another warm smile.

"It's been years for you," he repeated, "but just over one for me. I think you've forgotten how well I know you, how well I can read you, and how little you've actually changed."

Legend stared at him. "It has been years, I'm not the same kid anymore."

Wind raised an eyebrow. "Well you have all the same tells as you did before."

"I do not."

"Oh yeah?" Wind leaned forward to poke his arm. "Then why did I know you needed to be away from everyone? It's almost as if you've been introverted since the day I met you and Hytopia was constantly getting on your nerves because of it, hmm?"

Legend couldn't help but smile a bit as he huffed and swatted him away. "I wasn't doing a very good job of hiding anything."

"And yet Forest didn't have a clue, the oblivious dumbass. I don’t know how he found out but I'd bet a gold rupee that it wasn't until you called him by his name or something."

Legend snorted. He couldn't even argue because Wind was exactly right!

For the remainder of the hour until Wind's necklace chimed with Wild's voice asking after them, they just talked and Legend didn't realize until that evening, just after dinner, that he hadn't even thought about his fear, about what was to come.

He'd reconnected with Ocean, he hadn't even thought twice about it either, which made it worse. He'd just forgotten exactly why he had been spending this whole quest sharpening his edges.

He'd forgotten that it was useless to reach out for them, as they were just going to be ripped away.

And as much as it hurt... he couldn't bring himself to regret it. Not when Wind joined him in his corner of the campsite and just laid down beside him, not chatting his head off, but quietly humming.

His heart felt softer, lighter, but even if he couldn't bring himself to regret it now, bringing his ocarina to his lips and putting a ringing tune to Wind's hums, he knew in his mind that it wouldn't last.

The quest would end and he'd be all alone again, whether or not it would be his breaking point was a different question, he thought Marin had been the breaking point but he still hadn't reached it even after her and then Ravio. What would he do then?

He didn’t know, but he’d have to concede here, wouldn’t he? He wouldn’t be able to fend off both his brothers, which meant… well, it meant he was done. It meant this was the beginning of a new chapter, at least with some of the other heroes. It meant he couldn’t keep running, and once this was over, the pitfalls of grief would catch up to him… but he couldn’t stop it, and he had to just accept that.

[bootyful-seventeen]

Quick question for the homies who have a bookshelf to display their kpop albums and/or mangas and figures, what kind of method or style do you like?

[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

[dcxdpdabbles]

I’ve seen you said you take prompts, so, I had an idea if you’re interested.

So, imagine Danny has an assignment from Clockwork, and as punishment for a prank he pulled where he messed with something and unintentionally pulled CW’s attention away from the timelines for long enough for the Flash to accidentally ruin the timeline, after the timeline was fixed Danny’s forced to go and fix every single broken clock in the solar system. This includes stuff like watches and the batcave clock, maybe a few timed bombs, something on the watchtower, villain bases, etc.. Everyone is extremely confused and concerned as to how and why this eldritch kid with the Mark of Kronos is appearing randomly in their secret bases. Danny isn’t just fixing the clocks, sometimes he pulls Shenanigans depending on where he has to go. If he sees clones in a lab, he’ll call up Dani and they’ll pull off a heist together and she’ll take care of teaching and raising them afterwards. Talons? Danny opens a portal to a section of the infinite realms and gives them their own island after having the yetis go through deprogramming with them and stuff. He sees some stuffy fruitloop batcave? Graffiti and glitter. Lazarus pits? Free smoothie! Of course, he’s respectful to civilians when he bumps into them, giving little unmeltable ice statues to kids, helping people who need it, etc. He fixes a family heirloom watch, bringing tears to a grandson’s eyes. He’s helping people while on his mission, while also messing with any fruitloops he finds. So all of these people around the world are just really confused and being like, what in the world, who/what is this kid?! And sharing stories about him online, painting him as a cryptid or god or whatever. The Justice League and the villains are just Concerned because the kid feels like Kronos, time, and death energy, and have no idea what he’s trying to accomplish. Maybe they think that working clocks give him power, idk, just thinking of the conspiracy boards about Danny as he goes through his punishment and fixes every single clock, including on other planets (Danny practically squealing the whole time as he meets *aliens* in *space*! What cool technology and life!) This is meant to be a punishment but Danny’s living out his dreams. Sure it’s boring at times, but all this traveling is interesting and can help him bond with Dani, so this isn’t much of a punishment for him. He gets to be mischievous and help people out, it’s a win-win. Meanwhile everyone else is thinking that the end of the world is coming and that Kronos has been reborn and is trying to take over the world somehow with clocks. If you’re willing to expand or add to this or make it your own, please do!

I love the idea of Danny just *poof* "Yes, hello, I am the clock-smith" in the middle of, say, the watch tower. Floating up to the clock wall to adjust the time while pulling out a manual on time zones in different parts of space. The watch tower is within Earth's intergalactic waters per se, but which Earth time did he set it to???

Should he anchor it to one place or just place a spell on it to show all the time zones in a cycle? Does Clockwork have a procedure for this?

Meanwhile, all the heroes in the cafeteria are jumping to their feet, some whispering, "A fifth dimension imp!" and others yelling, "It's Kronos!"

Wonder Woman kneeling before the flouting teen does not help these accusations, as she loudly proclaims, "It's an honor to be of service, Lord Kronos."

Danny looked down at her. "Oh hey, an Amazonian."

"Why have you graced us with your presence? Is there anything this lowly servant can help you with?"

".....Can you gather all the watches for me?"

"At once!" And that's how the rest of the heroes almost have heart attacks because Wonder Woman herself is rushing at them at terrifying speed to rip away any form of watch from their bodies. She's on a war path, and no one can stop her. They can see it in her eyes- she'll draw blood if she has to.

They hand over their watches without much of a fight, feeling like they are being mugged. Wonder Woman sprints away to the next few levels- the screams of fellow heroes echoing in her wake.

Batman isn't as willing to cooperate with Kronos until he knows why the god is here, but Danny doesn't give him much of a choice. Mostly because he is uncontainable. Thankfully, he seems fixated on watches (Bruce writes in his notes, "Can gods be autistic???), and he leaves once they are all fixed.

He changes everything to be precisely twenty-nine hours ahead of whatever time they originally were at. Wonder Woman basically barked at everyone to not switch them back, banishing her sword.

From there, Batman does research with his sons and daughters. Tim finds the information of Danny appearing throughout history to fix watches, and Hal finds similar historical text in Oa's archives—usually right before a horrible tragedy. Further investigation shows a horrendous discovery.

Danny adds or subtracts the same number of hours from the told time as before the tragedy.

He was on Mars three hours before the tipping point of the civil war when the tremendous green Martian massacre happened. He added three hours to the green Martian's capital clock tower.

He was there on Krypton twenty-five hours before the planet was swallowed up by a black hole and exploded. Every public area with any form of time telling was changed to twenty-five regardless of whether it matched the planet's time zone.

And now he was here in the clock tower.

Bruce realizes that they have only one hour left, so he commands everyone to rush about and search for what could be the issue. It's only thanks to the Speedsters' quickness that they find the malfunction in the tower's core—the thing keeping them flouting. Had they been one hour too late, it would have caused the Tower to get pulled into Earth's gravitational pull.

Leading to them crashing into Earth- right above the most populated country of the world, possibly killing millions and leaving the world without their heroes.

The tragedy is avoided but now everyone is weary of when or where Kronos will appear.

Meanwhile, Clockwork is watching the timeline, amused that they think Danny is him when, in reality, Danny is just picking a random time and sticking the clocks to match since it's less math.

[honey-on-your-tongue]

COMING UP BABY,(I come as quick when I heard you doing kinkotber requests sooooo yYEA)

Miguel O’Hara x goodgirl!reader

KINK: hunting predator kink, overstimulation,and an slight breeding kink (idk 😃 i remember reading something like this so yea,where Miguel has an kink that he enjoys playing the predator,loves to see reader in fear,it make him “excited” 😏,loved to see reader so hopeless,so pitiful,and so vulnerable)

IDK IM SO SORRY IF IT BADLY EXPAINED 😭😭😭 BUT happy kinkobter ✌️✌️🫶🫶

Kinktober Day Four: Predator

Kinktober Masterlist

Miguel O'Hara x female reader

You heart races in your chest. You can hear it in your ears, can feel your lungs expanding with each quickened breath.

You're shaking slightly, hiding in an old, abandoned building behind what used to be some sort of desk.

You hear him walk into the room, heavy footsteps slow and quiet. His breathing is heavy, a rough, almost animalistic grunt leaving him.

You shudder where you hide, closing your eyes, trembling as he moves around the room.

Miguel knows you're here. He can hear your rapid breaths, can sense your racing heart. And he smells you. He can smell your fear and your arousal, making his own spike.

He takes a deep inhale, already knowing where you're hiding, but knowing that the more he scares you, the sweeter it'll be when he catches you.

His claws are out, his fangs at the ready. He can't help it. You drive him crazy.

He'd been a little reluctant the first time you two had done this little predator/prey role, thinking he'd scare you off. Instead, he was surprised and delighted to find how much you enjoyed it.

He walks closer to where you are, the smell of your fear growing, making his cock even harder. He stalks closer, laughing softly, darkly.

“I don't know why you bother hiding,” he says, voice low. “Did you forget I can smell you?”

You shudder, eyes popping open. He laughs again and leans over the desk slowly, smirking, those red eyes dark and sharp as he finds you crouched into a tiny ball.

“Perdiste, princesa,” he says thickly. You lost, princess.

He grabs you, pulling you to him. You gasp as he sets you down on the desk, moving to stand between your legs.

His claws dig into your hips slightly, a silent warning: you better not think about running right now.

He kisses you messily, eager, his mouth moving down your jaw, your neck. He bites you, relishing in the way you squirm beneath him. “Shh, princesa, ni siquiera empezamos.” We haven't even started.

He fucks you over and over, his cock buried so deep inside you that the thick head presses against your cervix. He keeps going even as you shake from your fourth or fifth orgasm.

“Miguel!” you whine. “Miguel!” It's the only word you know anymore. He's truly fucked you dumb.

“Shh, ya sé, princesa,” (I know) he says in your ear, fucking you hard and fast, barely resisting the urge to sink his fangs into your neck. “I'm almost done with you, baby. Just gimme a minute longer, hm? Gimme a chance to fill you up.”

You moan, trembling underneath him as another orgasm overcomes you. “Ahh!”

“I'm gonna give you a baby, princesa,” he says. “Do you want that? Do you wanna be full of my baby?” He chuckles against your ear. “Qué bonita te vas a ver con mi bebé adentro de ti.” You're gonna look so pretty with my baby in you.

He comes inside of you, delivering his thick, hot load deep in your cunt. You mewl lowly at the feel.

He kisses the tip of your nose, then your lips. He keeps his cock buried deep in you. He hopes, truly..he gets you pregnant. There's nothing he'd like more than to give you a child.

-----

@yagirlheree @sukioyakio @obi-mom-kenobi @celestia80s @manlikemilesmyguy @zaunsin @naniiiii12 @everlastlady @avatar-lover @siidmm @dhollandhs @spikedhe4rt @missing2socks @itzraven101 @miguelspookiebear @mochikomochisoft @sunset-euphoria @kishibeswh0re @m4dyy @icreatedthisat317am @keiva1000 @jakescumdump @ravisinghs-wife @tengens4th--wife @oceancerulean @pookiesmookie69 @juwandiko @aisyakirmann @ninebluehearts @vampireluvvr @saturnstringz @4imhry @iheartlinds @pigeonmama @eyweveng @braverthanthenewworld @livingwithinyou @switchiest @httpstoyosi @lyn-soso @6thhokageswife @normsdaughter-alt @thel0velykey190 @tojibreedingme @icouldntthinkofanythingclever

*if you want me to add you to my Miguel taglist, comment or send me a message <3

-----

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Twelve

Steve wanted everything to be ready and set up for when Eddie got back; Hopper was going to drop him over later in the afternoon.

It didn’t work out like that at all; Steve’s parents left earlier than they said they would. He got Eddie’s things out of the closet, and then was heading to the garage to get the tent, really, truly intending to use this time to get everything right for when Eddie comes back.

Steve lasted twenty minutes in the empty house before he couldn’t take any more. He just missed Eddie too much. He was too excited to see him, to bring him home, way too excited to wait hours.

Especially since every moment now felt so precious, so finite.

So he thought fuck it, slipped on his sneakers and picked up his car keys and headed to the store. He definitely needed fresh groceries ready for Eddie to come home.

It’s a fairly good thing his mother never actually cooks; she might have had questions about all the peas in the freezer. As it is Steve has to rotate between stores, he's started saying, ‘I’m doing this green juice diet thing,’ every time he gets a strange look when he pays. Even that would only fly so far before people started looking at him like he was really weird; it’s not like Hawkins is a big place, there’s not exactly a lot of options.

From the store, Steve heads to the cabin, only to find Eddie sitting on the stoop, his bag ready next to him. He grins so big when Steve pulls up.

Hopper comes out with a steaming mug cupped in his hands and an unlit cigarette sagging between his lips, “you’re as bad as each other, I told him not until four, he’s been packed since half nine. Couldn’t stop him.”

Steve kneels on the step below Eddie so they can give each other a proper hug; he feels Eddie’s chest expand in a massive sigh, and then Eddie relaxes fully against him. Steve can relate; he feels the same.

“Sorry Hop,” Steve says absently.

Hopper makes a noncomittal noise, and Steve hears the rasp of his lighter, “all his things are clean, did a load of laundry last night.”

Steve stands, but finds Eddie’s holding his hand and Steve kind of doesn’t want to ever let go of him anyway, so it kind of works out.

“Thanks so much Hopper, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you doing this.”

Hopper leans on the porch rail, “just laundry, kid.”

“You know what I mean, you’ve, you know, looked after him and I-”

“Hopper,” Eddie says, causing them both to look, “thank you,” and Eddie presents Hopper with a pine cone. It has strands of long grass haphazardly tied to it, little flowers and a couple of smalls leaves. Steve doesn’t look at Hopper’s face; he knows he will laugh if he does.

“Errr...you’re welcome.”

Steve thinks Hopper accepts his gift with grace.

The plan is to spend the whole afternoon on the couch watching movies. Eddie puts his things away; moves things around, spends an hour generally reacquainting himself with the place, Steve asks him if he wants the tent put back today, but Eddie shakes his head, clearly not worried about it. He also doesn’t want to get his shiny things back either; Steve offers to go into his parents room with him but again, Eddie seems disinterested.

He just seems to need to check where everything is before he finally settles, snuggling right up to Steve and settling his head on Steve’s chest, half cradled between Steve’s legs.

Steve knows Eddie’s missed him, Steve has missed him, too.

They don’t even pretend that night. There’s no talk of nightmares, or dark TV, or bad dreams. There’s no excuses about how it’s cold, or talk about Eddie sleeping on the couch; they brush their teeth together, and then Eddie gets into Steve’s bed before Steve does.

Steve sleeps with Eddie’s tail wrapped between and around his legs, and tries not to dwell on how much it’s going to hurt when it’s gone.

Steve walks through the door of Family Video, arms in the air, triumphant, “ayyyyyyyy!”

Robin mimics him from behind the counter, throwing her arms up too, “ayyyyyy...what are we doing?!”

“Celebrating, obviously,” Steve gets his ass up on the counter and shimmies around, dropping down on the other side, “we’re back together. The dream team.”

“The dynamic duo?”

“The perfect pair.”

“The...top twins?”

“That’s weak Steve.”

“I know, I couldn’t come up with anything good that begins with ‘T’ and I wanted to keep this going. Thanks by the way, I think we have two shifts together this week. I do not want to know what you had to do to get that-”

“Gross,” Robin slaps him in the chest with a half eaten red vine.

The bell over the door tinkles, a whole brood of excited kids coming in, looking for Christmas movies, Steve directs the mom to the right section. It’s not long before more come in, “what the hell is going on?” Steve gripes about all the little kids absolutely ruining the displays.

“Last day of school, everyone's out for Christmas,” Robin tells him as she rings someone up.

“No way,” Steve looks at the calendar pinned to the cupboard door behind the counter, “Oh. It is.”

“Yep Dingus, not long now, got all your gifts?”

“Shit Rob, I don’t have any gifts-”

“Terrific!”

“No it’s-”

“No no, terrific! With a ‘T’!”

“Oh...yeah, I suppose that was the obvious option.”

Steve gets home late, these closing shifts really starting to get to him, thinking about what the hell he should get Eddie for Christmas. He has no idea how long the whole...transformation thing…might take. Or how long until it happens. This might be the only Christmas Eddie ever has and…Steve’s going to do his best to make it amazing.

Tomorrow he’s going to drive out and pick up a real tree, get all the decorations down from the attic; Eddie likes shiny things, he should like it. Steve feels better with a plan of action, he always has.

“Eddie,” Steve calls as he closes the front door, stripping off his jacket and gloves. His ears are freezing, he should wear a hat really, but that would be a bit of a crime with his hair.

Steve can smell something; coffee he’s pretty sure, and something cooking, “Stee.”

“Hey Buddy, what are you doing,” Steve finds Eddie on a kitchen chair in front of the stove.

“Stee nine and a half.”

“Yeah, yeah I did say that buddy.”

Eddie’s carefully stirring soup on the stove top; there’s a bowl ready, next to a plate of crackers and randomly shaped cut up lumps of cheese. Well, more like hacked up lumps of cheese, but still.

Steve watches, heart sort of in his mouth, as Eddie carefully, tongue poking out in concentration, lifts the pot and pours the steaming soup into the bowl. He does it slowly, but perfectly fine, “Stee hot, ow.”

“I’ll let it cool down I...just thank you buddy, thank you so much.”

There’s a dirty knife and the empty soup can in the sink, but otherwise Eddie’s tidied up after himself. This must have taken so much effort; Eddie would have to move the chair every time he needed to reach something. Steve can’t help it, he dips, giving Eddie a soft kiss on the cheek.

Part Fourteen

[jaeyunverse]

the fake dating pact

pairing(s): park sunghoon x fem!reader

genre(s): fluff, suggestive, fake dating, enemies to lovers, rich kid au, cruise au

wc: 1.6k

warning(s): profanity, making out, implications to sex (no smut)

inspired by: dil dhadakne do

summary: in which ridiculous circumstances lead to a fake dating contract pact being struck between park sunghoon and you.

note: i’m ngl i thought i’d reposted this fic but i’m not able to find it so here we go LOL the sunghoon brainrot’s been hitting real hard lately

masterlist

There was a slight chance Sunghoon and you had crossed the boundaries you’d set when you first drew up your fake dating contract.

Okay, agreement would be a more accurate word choice since the document wasn’t legally binding, but the two of you took its contents very seriously. Together, you’d come up with a few mutually acceptable ground rules:

no kissing unless absolutely necessary

non-sexual acts of intimacy are acceptable in order to maintain the facade

keep arguments to a minimum no matter how insufferable the other person is being

no bed-sharing under any circumstances

no falling for park sunghoon even though he is the epitome of sexiness

The last condition was total bullshit, but you didn’t have it in you to make him get rid of it. Your mom had already done an excellent job at pissing you off; the last thing you wanted to do was get into it with Sunghoon.

One may wonder what caused the two of you to make this pact. Simply put, both your families desperately wanted to set you up with people you had no interest in dating.

(Not that you wanted to seek a romantic relationship with Sunghoon either, but we’ll get into that later.)

Lee Saerom had organised a cruise across the Mediterranean Sea on the occasion of her parents’ 30th wedding anniversary. Normally, your family wouldn’t have come within 10 feet of the Park family, but you were both good friends of the Lees and neither of you wanted to give the other the satisfaction of avoiding the trip.

Now that all the powerful and influential families of Seoul were gathered in the same place for a celebration spanning over a few weeks, your parents thought it would be a good idea to find you an ideal suitor who would help their company expand.

Word spread that you were seeing Lee Heeseung, the younger son of the Lees and heir apparent to their empire. The rumour was entirely false, but you had to admit it was a genius move on your parents’ part. Not only did it become harder for Heeseung and you to deny the allegations, but it made the Lees consider a future with your family’s business.

As if you weren’t in a shitload of mess already, the entire thing had somehow turned into a competition with the Parks beginning their own efforts to set Sunghoon up with Ning Yizhou.

The minor problem was that Heeseung and Yizhou were in love with each other, and neither of them had the courage to tell everyone the truth. They were both too afraid of disappointing their parents and bringing disgrace to their families.

You supposed it was a good thing Sunghoon and you had no such qualms. So, before things could escalate any further, the four of you got together and decided to put an end to this idiocy.

On the third night of the cruise, Sunghoon and you announced your relationship. Holding his hand and giving him lovey-dovey eyes felt ridiculous, but you would rather stomach fake dating him than see a wedge form between Heeseung and Yizhou.

Needless to say, everyone was shocked.

Yizhou even pretended to faint while Heeseung started sobbing hysterically. You couldn’t believe he actually pulled out a tear stick and applied it to the underside of his eyes when no one was looking. You wondered if he’d purchased it for this specific reason when you’d explored Turkey earlier that day.

Overall, it was a pretty convincing act.

The Lees and Nings were furious, but you weren’t particularly worried. In fact, you didn’t even care. Your parents had it coming their way the moment they dragged you into their scheming and plotting.

It took a few days for everyone to calm down and for the festivities to resume, but things pretty much went back to normal. Sunghoon and you both got tongue-lashings from your families, but they didn’t make you two break up.

Your reputations were already in the gutter; forcing you to end your relationship after all that had conspired would have been the cherry on top of your disaster of a cake.

The pre-decided course of action was to fake date Sunghoon till the cruise ended. Once you returned to your daily lives and enough time had passed, you would cook up a reason to break up.

It didn’t take long for your original plan to go to shit. As it turned out, spending a week pretending to love the bane of your existence had proved to be quite the opportunity to really get to know him.

Ever since you were a kid, you’d heard your parents say a lot of terrible things about the Parks. You’d been instructed to stay far away from Sunghoon. An impressionable and susceptible child such as yourself had obeyed every order they gave you.

You’d literally been hard-wired to despise and assume the worst of Sunghoon.

The wall of hatred you’d built between the two of you began coming down brick by brick once you learnt the kind of man he was. He was honourable and good and down-to-earth.

Of course, he was a dickhead to you for the same reason you were a bitch to him, but the asshole side of him was more endearing than annoying now.

His snarky replies no longer seemed to bite, and there was always an underlying film of adoration accompanying them.

Perhaps, he’d grown to care for you just as you had for him.

You certainly hoped that was the case, since regularly making out with someone who couldn’t be bothered with you wasn’t exactly your dream.

To this day, you had no idea how you’d ended up grabbing the collar of his shirt and crashing your mouth against his.

Maybe it was because he kept reminding you that you’d lost a bet to him and you wanted to shut him up, or maybe it was because he hadn’t bothered to button up his shirt and his abs were on full display, the ocean wind ruffling his messy hair.

Nonetheless, something seemed to snap in him when you made the move. He responded to your kiss immediately and pinned you against a wall. Thankfully, it was almost midnight and there was no one to witness your less than decent makeout session on the deck.

The next ten minutes consisted of his hands travelling under your loose shirt, fingers grazing the cold skin of your abdomen. Soon, your shirt was discarded, and your legs were wrapped around his waist.

Sunghoon hadn’t bothered stopping even when you ran out of breath. Instead, he’d taken the opportunity to leave bruises on your jaw and neck. The warm feeling of his tongue soothing the spots where he’d nipped at your skin with his teeth had caused you to experience a burning need for desire that went further than the second base.

The amount of reaction he’d gotten out of you was embarrassing. Never had you been unraveled by anyone so effortlessly. He had to muffle the whimpers that slipped past your lips as a result of his ministrations.

If it weren’t for the fact that you were making out in the open and were at the risk of being walked in on, things would have escalated. By the time you parted, Sunghoon’s lips were swollen, his face was flushed and he was breathing hard.

His eyes were hooded and dark, and he was gazing at you with an intensity that made you shiver.

Taking that as your cue to leave, you pressed a chaste kiss on his cheek, fetched your shirt from the ground and hurried away.

You didn’t even know why you thought things would go back to normal the next day.

One look at him, and your legs turned to jelly. You happily obliged when he wrapped his fingers around your wrist and whisked you away from everyone else.

Soon enough, you’d breached almost all the conditions in your fake dating pact.

You spent most of your nights together—be it hooking up, lying in the comfort of each other’s arms or just talking till slumber claimed you. Never in your life had you imagined being at ease around Sunghoon.

Everything else faded away when you were with him. He made you feel yourself. He made you feel whole.

“Hey,” you murmured while you were both swimming in the pool one night, the stars shining brightly in the sky. His eyes were closed and his neck was tilted up, the back of his head resting on the decking behind. “Can I ask you something?”

Sunghoon hummed and opened his eyes, turning his attention to you. “Yeah.”

“I know we have a plan,” you continued, doing your best to ignore the droplets clinging to his skin, “and I know that we’re supposed to stop pretending after this cruise ends tomorrow, but have you ever thought about making this—” you pointed at him, and then at yourself— “real.”

He laughed softly and shook his head in amusement. Your brows furrowed in confusion. “I’m not joking—”

“Every single day,” he interrupted you. Wading his way through the water to close the distance between your bodies, he repeated, “I have thought about making you mine every goddamn day.”

He cupped your cheeks and rested his forehead against yours. “I think I’ve fallen in love with you, Y/N,” he whispered.

Taking a shuddering breath, you closed your eyes and felt him press his lips to yours.

The kiss was slow and passionate, as if the two of you had all the time in the world. It expressed what couldn’t be said using words, and you realised just how much you’d grown to admire and care for this man.

It physically pained you to consider the possibility of a life without him.

“Sunghoon,” you mumbled against his mouth. “I would say I love you too but I don’t wanna breach the contract.”

He chuckled and ran his tongue along your bottom lip, even going as far as to suck on it. “I thought you broke the last rule days ago.”

You couldn’t stop the smile that stretched across your face. You opened your lids and shifted to get a better look at his expression.

Sunghoon’s eyes were shining with happiness, and you thought you could gaze into them forever. You thought you could witness the grin on his face and hear his honeyed laugh without ever getting tired. You thought you could stand ground against anything life threw at you if you had him by your side.

You knew you could love him and be loved by him for as long as your soul wandered through the worlds.

“I love you too.”

[twice-inamillion]

The Company 

High Mile Club

Smut (Deep penetration, orgasm, turning into sex toy)

Chapter 11

3,210 Words 

(A bit of info on Wendy and future endeavors within the company. OC's new flight attendant, Kim Ji-Yoon (Kim, Jisoo's sister), becomes OC's new sex toy. OC goes to visit Jessica in San Francisco on his time off.)

It’s been a few weeks since Wendy offered you her virginity in exchange for leaving Irene alone. You gladly took the offer of deflowering another idol and even continued having sex after that one time. 

You stopped pursuing Irene for a while. Irene wondered what was going on at first but didn’t ask. It was better for her if you didn’t call her to satisfy your needs and thought that you might have found someone else to fill that role. This was better for her, and she didn't look into it much. Little did she realize that you were satisfied with your needs by one of her members. 

Wendy and her team members exit the room after going over their weekly emulation and head to the cafeteria. They continue to talk as they line up to scan their IDs when suddenly you feel someone bump into you. 

You turn around and see the newly debuted group Red Velvet with their food trays, “I’m sorry, I bumped into you.”

”It’s okay, don’t worry about it, Seulgi.”

Seulgi slightly bows and apologizes for not looking, “It’s okay, you don’t need to apologize, it was an accident.” Seulgi smiles and bows once more.

You grab your food and find a table to have your meal. Out from afar, you see the Red Velvet members walking in your direction. They kindly smile as they pass you until you see Wendy at the end. You give her a soft grin, causing her to misstep and almost drop her food. “Oh, are you okay?” catching her and preventing her from falling. 

“Umm, yes. Thank you.”

”Be careful; we don’t want you getting hurt,” you say as you hold her hand. 

Wendy nods and tries to pull away when you say, “I’ll see you tonight.”

She freezes up and stares at her members, waving at her from the table. Wendy recalls the last session, making her remember the soreness she felt from getting her insides stretched.

————

During one of your meetings with the company executives, you feel a couple of text messages come in all at once. You secretly pull out your phone and see that you got a couple of messages from Jessica and open them up. 

“It must be early in the morning over there, but I wanted to tell you that I went to get an ultrasound taken. They said the baby is healthy and will probably know the gender during the next visit.” 

You scroll down and see Jessica sent you a picture of her ultrasound. Now, it feels real; you’re going to be a father. You stare at the photo for a couple of seconds, and then you see another message pop up: a photo of Jessica showing her baby bump. 

“I will be free in a few days, so I can visit you soon.” 

“Okay, I’ll see you then. It’s late over here, and I’m ready to go to sleep.”

”Goodnight, and I'll message you when I depart. .”

——

As you continue with your meeting, one of the executives mentions the importance of expanding into other areas within the entertainment industry, such as commercials and dealing with actors. 

You mentioned that you’ve also had the same idea and even considered setting up an acting label in the company. 

With some positive feedback from the rest of the executives, you all come to the conclusion of increasing your reach in the industry and increasing profits by creating an acting subdivision. 

“Do you have any suggestions on who to bring into the acting label?” asks one of the executives.

“I think it would be nice to get some that are already established in the industry and some new talent.”

”What about recruiting someone well-known like Park Min-young? She’s had a good amount of roles and is attractive?”

One of the executive’s assistants pulls up Park Min-young’s acting profile and puts it on the large screen. 

“She has a youthful face. How old is she?”

”She's 28 years old, sir.” 

“How many roles has she had so far?”

“About ten so far and one on the way.”

”Then we should look into recruiting her.”

”Will do, sir.” 

“Any other suggestions?”

Another executive mentions, “For fresh new faces, how about Shin Hye-sun or Moon Ga-young?

”Send me their profiles, and I will look into them.”

”Also an upcoming actress, Lee Hyeri.”

”Okay, send it to my office or through my assistants,” as you wrap up the meeting and prepare for lunch. 

———

Some of the trainees have noticed an increase in activity in the company's main building. For the past few days, they have seen blacked-out sedans and bodyguards in the main lobby.

”What do you think is going on?”

”Maybe investors?”

”Yeah, maybe.”

A sedan pulls up, and they see a bodyguard come out from the passenger door, then head to the rear door and open it. Out comes a woman dressed in a nice outfit. The bodyguard escorts the woman into the lobby and is greeted by one of the employees. 

“Hey, isn’t that the actress from that popular drama?”

”Oh, you’re right. What is she doing here?”

”Wait, do you think they might be recruiting actresses to the company?”

”That would be cool, maybe they might set up an acting division. I would be interested in joining if that’s the case.”

“Let’s go say hi.”

The two girls walk calmly towards the group gathered at the help desk. “Umm, do you happen to be the actress from ****?”

The actress softly nods before she is interrupted by one of the CEO's assistants, “Thank you for meeting with us. Let’s move on to one of our meeting rooms.” 

The two girls watch as the group heads to the hallway and press the elevator button. 

“See, I told you it was her.”

”You’re right; let's tell the others, they’re going to be excited!”

———

“Welcome aboard, sir.” 

“Thank you. How are you doing?”

”I’m doing well. Let me help you with your items.” 

Ji-yoon takes your bag and places it onto one of the seats. She helps adjust your chair and asks, “Would you like a drink before liftoff?”

”Just the usual.”

”Of course,” and walks to the minibar. You notice a difference in her outfit but can’t seem to get what it is. It isn’t until she bends over to fix her shoelace that you notice that her skirt is shorter than usual.

You can get a better view of her thighs and even a small glimpse of her red-laced panties. “Damn, she looks nice.”

Ji-yoon returns with your drink, “Here you go, sir.” 

“Thank you, Ms. Kim.”

”You’re welcome, but call me by my given name.”

”You sure?”

”Of course, we’re not strangers.”

”Okay. Thank you, Ji-Yoon.”

”That’s better,” gives you a soft smile. “I’ll let the pilots know we're ready for takeoff.”

Ji-yoon exits the cockpit, comes towards you, “The pilots will be taking off shortly,” and grabs your seatbelt, fasting them.

She walks towards the seat before you and fastens her belt as the plane goes down the runway. 

The pilot announces that the plane is in taxi and ready to take off. The plane turns around, and you hear the engines getting louder. The pilot steps on the accelerator to the max, feeling the plane moving rapidly down the runway. 

Ji-yoon looks out the window, and you are surprised when you notice the sight of her laced panties. You ask yourself if this is an accident or if she is doing this on purpose, but don’t mind the nice view. 

It’s a few hours into your flight; you’ve been going over the profiles of potential actresses that you are interested in joining the company.

“Would you like another drink, or should I prepare the bed for you?”

“Another drink would be nice.” 

She goes off to the other side of the plane and brings your drink for you, “Here you go, sir.” 

“I thought you said to act informally with you, but you keep calling me sir.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” 

“Call me by my name instead.” 

Out of nowhere, the plane hits some turbulence, making Ji-yoon lose her balance and fall. Luckily, you get a hold of her, but she accidentally falls on your lap.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. I spilled your drink all over you; let me clean it off.” 

As she tries to get off, the plane experiences another round of turbulence and falls back on your lap. The intercom turns on, and you hear the pilot say, “Sorry for the bumpy ride, folks. We hit an air pocket, and it seems like we are going to go through some rough patches in the next few minutes. Please remain seated, and I’ll give it all clear.” 

Ji-yoon looks at you embarrassed and says, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to get you all dirty, but now this. Let me get off of you, and I’ll clean you once it’s okay to move around.” 

She tries to get off of you, but you hold her back, “the pilot said to remain seated, remember.” 

“But I’m sitting on you; I’m heavy.”

“Not at all. I don’t mind; I prefer you to stay and not get hurt.” 

“Okay, I’ll stay,” as she positions herself better on your lap. Over the next few minutes, you both experience some turbulence, with Ji-yoon slightly grinding against your lower region. 

Ji-yoon feels embarrassed sitting on her boss's lap but, at the same time, doesn’t complain since she finds you attractive. She knows that these types of things come with the job, especially the turbulence. 

She positions herself better onto your lower region and feels your limp cock grinding against her ass. “He’s huge, it’s this big, and it’s not even hard. I’m curious how big it is.” 

Your cock begins to harden as Ji-yoon slowly grinds her ass on you. She turns her head towards you and see that she’s biting her lip. Realizing that she’s enjoying it, you grab her by the waist and press your cock closer to her ass. You then see her unbutton her jacket and takes it off, giving you a full view of her nape.

You get closer, allowing your breath to reach the back of her nape, causing her to shiver. As you are about to go in for a kiss, you hear a, ”We are all clear. You are all more than welcome to unfasten your seatbelts and move around. I appreciate your understanding.”

Ji-yoon spans back to reality and quickly gets off of you. She tries to apologize for her actions but notices the large bulge in your pants. She bites her lip and says, “I’m sorry for spilling your drink on you; let me clean that up.” 

You take off your dress shirt, revealing your build. She gasps and covers her mouth before going to the laboratory in the back of the plane. You follow her and see her scrubbing your shirt with soap and water, “It’s okay if you can’t get it off.”

”I just feel bad since it was my fault,” and she turns around, grazing her hand on your abs. 

“How about we call it a day? I’m getting kind of tired.”

”Of course, let me set up your room for you.”

After a few minutes, Ji-yoon sets up your private quarters and puts your sleepwear on the bed. 

Ji-yoon watches you change from across the plane. She notices you getting into getting completely nude and only putting on the shorts from the sleepwear she gave you. “Fuck, he’s huge.” She crosses her legs, “What are you thinking, Ji-Yoon? He’s your boss.” She pinches her arm to return to reality, but then she sees you pop out and ask, “Do you have a toothbrush? I can’t seem to find mine.” 

She watches as you walk out of your room and into the aisle and can’t help but look up and down at your body. 

“Y…yes. Let me check.” 

You lay on your bed, staring at the window for a few minutes, when you remember you left your phone in the laboratory. You slowly slide the door to your room and go to the laboratory when you see Ji-yoon inside. You see her stand in front of the mirror and notice her holding your shirt to her nose. Not wanting to make it awkward, you try to go back but meet her eyes.

She freaks out, drops your shirt, and opens the door to explain herself. “It isn’t what it looks like.” 

“Okay, I just came here to get my phone.” 

She looks back, sees your phone in one of the storage compartments, and hands it back to you. 

As she hands you her phone, you look down and see a thick but transparent substance running down her thighs. She looks down and is horrified, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. It's just that I’ve been neglected, and what happened earlier excited me.” 

She covers her face with the sudden confession and tries to walk away, but you grab her hand, stopping her. “I get what you mean. How about having a little fun?” smirking. 

“What do you mean?” 

“How about we join the high mile club?”

Ji-Yoon is surprised by the suggestion, but the idea of having sex on an airplane, especially while working and with her boss, is a total turn-on.

 She checks you out and bites her lip, letting you know her answer. You take the lead and head towards your room with a grin on your face.

After closing the door, you press her against the wall and go for a kiss. She reciprocates, giving you a sloppy kissing session. You undo her blouse and expose her white bra. Ji-yoon looks at you with hungry eyes, telling you to take her, and you do. 

You go in for her neck and begin kissing it, slowly moving towards her chest and leaving a slight trail. You hear her moan and undo her bra, dropping it on the floor as you cup her small breast between your hands. 

She gasps as you flick her nipples just before taking one into your mouth. “Ahh, fuck. That feels good.” 

With your mouth attached to her breast, you pick her against the wall. She wraps her legs around your waist, enjoying the feeling of your tongue flicking her nub. 

After a few minutes, you walk towards the bed and slowly place her down. She can’t wait to see what will happen next and undoes her skirt. 

“Fuck, you’re hot. I want to see what you have right there,” as you move towards her lower region. In one quick move, you remove her panties using your mouth and toss it across the room. 

During the next couple of minutes, prepping her for the main event. Ji-yoon breathes heavily as you eat out her shaven cunt, still anticipating for what’s to come. “Hmm, I haven’t felt this good in a long time.”

”You said your boyfriend has been neglecting you, right?”

”Yeah, he hasn’t touched me in a while. He’s been so busy with work that he doesn’t even have time to spend with me.”

”Let’s change that,” as you pull down your shorts.

Ji-yoon's mouth drops as she sees your massive length and asks herself if it’s going to fit. 

“How about we join that mile club?”

”Yeah, let's.”

You bring her to the edge of the beg and spread her legs open. Hold your cock in your hand and smack it against her cunt, coating it with her nectar. You press your cock against her lower lips and slowly move towards her. 

Ji-yoon watches as you spread her lips wide open, inserting your large cock inside her tight body. She grabs onto your arm and groans the deeper you go inside of her. “Fuck, you’re huge…”

With the outline of your cock inside Ji-yoon’s belly, you begin to thrust inside of her. You start off slowly, letting her get adjusted to your length before increasing the pace. Ji-yoon’s reaction shows that she’s enjoying it and plays with her small breasts. 

“Who’s bigger? Me or your boyfriend?”

Ji-Yoon is surprised by your question, but the way your cock is hitting the right places and areas her boyfriend has never reached before, the answer was obvious, “You, you’re much bigger than my boyfriend. He can’t compare to you; he has a tiny cock.”

Satisfied by her response, you decide to reward her by fucking her in her deepest parts. You lift Ji-yoon’s legs up and place her in a mating press. She groans when you hit the end of her womb, a place untouched by her boyfriend.

“You like that?” 

“Yeah, I do.”

“You’re so tight. Has your boyfriend ever reached this deep?”

“N..no, he hasn’t, it’s my first time. It feels so good.” 

“Then let’s make this a great memory,” as you begin to thrust rough and rapidly.  

“Fuck, you’re reaching so deep inside of me, I’m feeling weird.”

”It’s normal, you’re about to cum.”

”I’ve never felt that way when I have sex with my boyfriend.”

”Fuck, your boyfriend. You’re with me.” 

Ji-Yoon is reaching her orgasm, trembling from the new experience. She’s just able to cum, when you stop and pull out, “Don’t please, I’m so close to cumming.” 

“Beg for it.”

”Please, let me cum. I’ll do anything.”

”Anything?”

”Yes, just let me cum, and I’ll do anything.”

”Then be my fuck toy, let me use you whenever I want.”

You tease her cunt by inserting your fingers and scraping her walls. She arches her back as you tease her by preventing her first orgasm. 

“Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll be your fuck toy. Just let me cum, please!”

There’s no need for a response as you pull out your sloppy fingers and shove your cock back instead of her begging womb. Ji-Yoon screams from the sudden shock of getting her womb stabbed, “fuck!! I'm cumming!”

Ji-yoon's walls tighten around your cock, to the point of choking it. She spasms violently, wetting the bed covers from the excitement. 

With you reaching your own orgasm, you pull your cock and stand in front of Ji-Yoon, painting her face, breast and cunt completely white. “Do a peace sign for me” as you prepare to take a picture. 

Ji-Yoon sticks her tongue and makes a peace sign with her face covered in your baby batter. 

“Good morning, and welcome to San Francisco. Hope you had a good night's sleep, and thank you for flying with us, sir.”

You are looking at the view from the window and turning your head toward the aisle. You grab your phone and text Jessica on your arrival at the airport. Ji-Yoon pops your cock out of her mouth and smiles. “Thank you for the meal,” as she wipes bits of your load dripping from her mouth. 

“Come on, baby girl, clean yourself up; we’re already here.”

[starry-crossing-zone]

General Storyteller - Rex

Summary: After the Battle of Kamino, Rex finds you surrounded by clone cadets. Length: 1.4k Warnings: Post-Battle; Lots of Teasing; Rex's Flirting is Improving

The battle of Kamino had yielded heavy and unfortunate losses, but the Republic managed to repel the Separatists in the end. Rex, after promoting Echo and Fives to ARC Troopers, sought out the generals. He walked over to where Jesse and Hardcase were relaxing, assuming they would have an idea.

“Has anyone seen the generals?” Rex asked, resting his bucket against his hip.

“General Skywalker’s at the south end of the city, but I have a feeling that you’re not asking about him,” Jesse quipped, causing Rex to narrow his eyes. “She’s with Kix in the infirmary.”

“You know how she always turns into a mother hen after battle,” Hardcase reminded his captain, leaning back against the wall. He elbowed Jesse with a mischievous grin. “She’s probably giving shinies heart attacks.”

“Well, if she can make our esteemed captain blush, what hope do the shinies have, Hardcase?”

Rex, tuning out the rest of their conversation, turned and made his way to the infirmary. Due to the overflow from battle, it had expanded into the mess hall. But Rex assumed that a Jedi would be easy to spot among the clones and Kaminoans. But when he didn’t spot you, Rex made his way over to Kix, who was setting another trooper’s ankle.

“Kix, have you seen the general?”

“She’s in the other room,” Kix stated, pointing to his right. “You won’t be able to miss her.”

Rex raised an eyebrow, but continued on his way. Stepping into one of the wings of the infirmary, Rex paused when he spotted exactly what Kix was talking about. You sat at the end of the room, smiling and talking with all of the young clone cadets gathered around you.

“And then the bridge started to collapse,” you retold dramatically as you carefully bandaged up a cadet’s wrist. “The Separatists planted detonators along the bridge and lured us onto it. And the tactical droid tried to blow us all up.”

“How did you escape?” one of the cadets asked, sitting on the edge of his seat.

“Well, we started running. Anakin and I pushed your brothers to safety with the Force because all of you and all of your brothers in every corner of this galaxy are important to us.”

You gently poked one of the cadets on the tip of his nose to emphasize your point. He blushed bright red, reminding you of another clone, and looked down at his feet bashfully while one of his brothers grabbed his shoulders from behind.

“And no good leader and certainly no good Jedi would say otherwise,” you added, looking out around at the clone cadets. 

Rex was quite sure that the meaning behind your story was not part of the approved Kaminoan curriculum, but he couldn’t help but smile at his younger brothers’ reactions to your story. You smiled and finished up with bandaging a cadet’s wrist before continuing with the story.

“But then we had to run to safety ourselves. Now, Anakin was lucky enough that he was standing close to the edge. So, he escaped easily. But I wasn’t so lucky because a lingering detonator went off right behind me, causing me to lose my balance.”

“What happened next?” a cadet gasped.

“Shhh!” one of the other cadets shushed his brother.

“I’m getting to it,” you promised them with a chuckle. “As I was saying, your brother, Captain Rex, grabbed a long gun—right out of Mule’s hands, mind you—and shot a cable at me.”

“Did he hit you?” one of the cadets asked quickly.

“Do you think I’d miss, Cadet?” Rex called out teasingly.

“Captain Rex!” the cadets called turning around to see him walking towards them.

They all jumped to their feet and stood at attention. Rex stopped in front of the crowd of his young brothers and dismissed them, urging them to sit down again. He turned to you as the cadets got settled again. And even though Rex felt a familiar heat start to climb up his neck, he moved to take a seat on one of the beds. Clearing his throat as you offered him a soft smile, he nodded.

“You were saying, General.”

“Right, Captain,” you mused before turning back to his brothers. “No, Captain Rex didn’t hit me with the cable. It landed in front of me and I held onto it as the bridge tumbled down. And with some help from some of your other brothers, he pulled me up to safety.”

“Captain Rex saved your life?”

“Yes, he did,” you stated without hesitation.

“To be fair, you’ve saved mine a number of times, General,” Rex spoke up, causing you to smile.

“Yes, shall I tell all of you one of those stories next?”

The cadets cheered but Rex got back to his feet and motioned towards the door. You nodded and slowly stood up, causing the cadets to sigh and whine. Giving them a kind smile, you kneeled down so that you were eye level with all of them again.

“I must go back to being a general. But you should try and find General Kenobi, for he’s an even better story teller than me. But which battalion is the best in the GAR again?”

“The 501st!”

“And don’t you forget it,” Rex added, causing his younger brothers to grin.

Bidding the cadets goodbye, you stood up and walked with Rex out of the infirmary. The two of you moved in silence for a moment before Rex turned to you with a soft look.

“You survived the battle alright, General?”

“I should be asking you that question, Rex. This is your home. All of your homes.” You sighed and added quietly, “I’m sorry we didn’t defend it better.”  

“Kamino was always a target to the Seppies,” Rex stated, turning to look forward again. “But thank you, General.” Clearing his throat a bit, Rex turned forward once again. “And thank you for looking after the cadets. They were bred for war, but they were never trained for it to happen in their own home.”

“Of course,” you returned, nodding politely. “I have a soft spot for children. I believe my master’s habits rubbed off on me.”

“It’s not a bad habit to have.”

“Well, and clone cadets are adorable. In a way, the clones and the Jedi have a lot in common. We were raised communally as well. It’s a setup most citizens find unnatural, almost.”

“Well, your people can move things with their minds. My brothers and I all share the same face. They might not be far off,” Rex quipped, causing you to chuckle.

Stepping into the lift together, you stood side by side as you made your way back to the upper floors of the facility. No doubt that Shaak Ti and Obi-Wan were looking for the two of you. Placing your hands on your hips and turned to Rex with a mischievous smile.

“What were you like as a cadet, Rex?”

“Top of my class, of course.”

“Of course,” you agreed teasingly, causing Rex to tilt his chin up. “But don’t tell me that you were always this stoic and brooding.”

“Brooding?” Rex repeated, earning a laugh in return.

“Come on, Rex. You must have broken a few rules in your time on Kamino.”

“I would assume as many as you did when you were a padawan, General.”

“My master was on the Jedi High Council, so I had an image to uphold.” After a moment, you added with a grin, “But also more time unsupervised. And, well, Anakin was a poor influence on me.” Your smile softened as you turned back to Rex. “Perhaps I’ll tell you some of those stories one day, Captain.”

“I look forward to it, General.”

Stepping off the elevator together, you and Rex shared a smile before Commander Cody called out to the two of you. Rex winced when he spotted Cody’s knowing look and you pulled on a more professional expression in the presence of the marshal commander.

“General Kenobi requested your assistance with moving some of the larger pieces of debris,” Cody told you. “He’s in the eastern part of the city.”

“Thank you, Commander Cody, I will go meet him.” Nodding to Cody, you turned to Rex, who returned your burning gaze. “I’ll see you later, Captain.”

And with that, you walked down the hall and away from them. You couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder at Rex. Staring after you until your figure disappeared around the corner, Rex ignored Cody’s stare and smirk. Rolling his eyes, Rex brushed past his brother.

“I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?” Cody called after him, causing Rex to wince.

“Stow it, Cody.”

[milunalupin]

— all-american

james potter x reader ★ 869 words

"Can you two stop giggling? People are staring."

The boys followed the tallest Marauder through the streets of muggle London, on their way to some American diner Peter had told them about. The purebloods couldn't help but 'ooh' and 'ahh' at all the unusual things they didn't have back in their world. A large neon sign came into view, the 'C' in 'Nick's Diner' flickering on and off. The loud jingle of the bell as they opened the door announced their arrival, only a few other patrons scattered around the diner. A voice from somewhere back in the kitchen called out.

"Welcome in, take a seat anywhere you'd like!"

They decided on a red leather booth near the back corner, a 'Taxi Driver' poster plastered right above the table. The black and white checkerboard flooring and jukebox made it feel like they were in that film 'Grease' their friend Lily makes them watch every other week.

"Evening boys, how's everyone doin'? My name is Y/N, can I get anyone started with a drink?"

James thinks he must've gotten hit by a muggle car crossing the street to get here because he believes he's seeing an angel in person. You just look so pretty, in your little red dress and white apron, curly hair tied up in a ponytail. Your smile. Merlin, he was going to need to get his eyes checked again after dinner because your smile was truly blinding. Were those wedding bells he was hearing?

"I think James over here is good, all that drool should last him a good week or two."

A hard slap on the back took him out of his daze. His eyebrows pinched together and he was about to say something back to Sirius when he realized he was drooling, quickly wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his sweater before turning back to you with red cheeks and a sheepish smile.

"A Coca-Cola for me, please."

You think the blushing boy before you couldn't get any cuter. You grinned and nodded, telling them you'd be back with their drinks as you strolled back to the kitchen.

Once James finally took his eyes away from your swinging ponytail, he was met with three shit-eating grins. He glares back but their smiles do not falter, causing James to scoff with furrowed eyebrows. "What."

Dinner goes by in a flash with the friends enjoying their meals and sneakily changing the music from the jukebox, wands hidden under the table. The boys notice they just so happen to have a very attentive waitress, your lovely self coming around to their table often. It was interesting that even after they'd finished eating, you would appear to fill their almost overflowing cups with water or drop off extra napkins. James did nothing but send a dopey grin your way, and he does consider talking to you but freezes the second your big brown eyes stare back at him.

Remus groaned as he watched his friend be so pathetically consumed by you, setting down his now empty mug. "Prongs, tell me. Are you going to ask her out or just sit there with your tongue out like Padfoot begging for someone to throw him a bone?"

"I do not beg!" The dog animagi sputtered, hitting the dirty blonde beside him, "Tell 'em Pete!"

"Piss off Moony, it's not that easy. She's perfect."

Your shift was over, and truthfully it could've been worse. The table of four boys really made up for the more sour customers you had earlier in the day. The disappointment on your face was obvious when you had gone to clean their table and there was no number left behind on any of the napkins.

After finishing your closing duties you walked out the back door and turned the corner to find a large eagle owl perched upon the diner's bike rack. It wasn't too common to see owls in this area, but the shine of its feathers and well maintained claws tell you it's not from around here. Taking careful steps towards the bird, you offer your hand. It expanded its wings and flapped them twice at you before butting its head against the palm of you hand. You smiled and smoothed the beautiful creature's feathers back, now realizing there was an envelope sitting between the owl's talons. Taking the envelope and opening it up, you find a letter written to who you presumed to be yourself.

Dearest Y/N,

You have me infatuated with your beautiful smile and killer table waiting skills. I'm pretty funny and can show you a good time. Not like that though, unless you wanted t

What I mean to say is, I would throw all of England's tea in the ocean again if it meant I could win the honor of taking you out. On a date that is, not like killing you. I promise to make the night magical. I'll come by the diner next week with flowers and hopefully you don't punch me in the face for being a creep.

Yours,

James Potter

Smiling to yourself, you gave the owl one last pet and a thank you before pulling your wand out and disapparating home.

[divinesolas]

plagued by you is my roman empire!!! I'm so excited for the part two, and would you give a little exploration on how they have come to love each other despite being somewhat enemies?? like I imagine they had a good friendship as children but the division of their house tore it. I. AM. SCREAMING!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

a.n: just a minor little look into their backstory just to fully round out their story, i’ve briefly touched on this during the chapters but i thought it would be better to expand on it a bit 😁 also im so sorry this took so long and im glad you love plauged by you it’s easily one of my all time favs 😭😭

more so alicents pov.

part one part two - masterlist

It is such a shame the one beautiful and thriving friendship between the first born son of rhaenyra and the first born daughter of alicent was torn away by the bad blood between families.

You were innocent friends, who would sneak off together after dinner to the kitchens and steal some cake. Who would walk to dragon practice with. Who's wounds you would clean when he messed up during practice. It all seemed to be going so perfectly between the two of you, so perfectly in fact that when his mother suggested the two of you to be wed it all started to crumble down.

That's when the whispers began, when your mother would sit in your room while combing your hair telling you that the Velaryon boys were not to be trusted. You didn’t understand why and would ignore her warnings, continuing to play with jacaerys.

Until he had begun to pick on aemond. Your sweet younger brother aemond who would come to you crying about some prank the boys pulled on him. You were furious and went to go confront them immediately. Jacaerys apologized the first time and you believed him, but then it continued to happen and you grew angrier and angrier until you could not take it. You realized your mother was right. They were bastards and monster who could not be trusted.

So began your anguish for one another. He grew to find you stuck up and annoying and you believed him to be stupid and selfish. Your mother was overjoyed when you stopped hanging out with the strong boy but she could tell you had lost a sense pf yourself, you were no longer the carefree kid who laughed and smiled at everyone but instead you kept a more serious face and merely nodded at people who would come up to you.

The marriage whispers faded and you mother could not be more pleased. Though it seemed you wanted no husband instead, being flat out rude to most men who would approach you or your mother would set you up with. This infuriated alicent more than you knew, you seemed fine with the prospect of marriage not even a year ago what had happened.

She came to realize she had happened. she was the one who made you not want to marry.

Even blinded in your anger you could not imagine yourself marrying someone who was not him and she knew that. therefore when the driftmark incident happened she thought it to be a blessing in disguise. You loved aemond more than anything and you would finally grow out of this affection you had for jacaerys and marry.

Yet you still did not. You did not even wish to marry aemond, still insistent that despite it being your duty there was still no man good enough for you.

your mother was besides herself when the years continued to pass and you remained unwavering in your decision, she felt sick. You could not see what she could. when she would listen to the way you would rant about him more than she ever did she threw up. Its the way she would rant about rhaenyra.

Then they finally returned to the keep and she feared she would lose you to him. That he would charm you, make you forget about the past and be would put a strong babe in your belly before she could even blink.

Yet when you said nothing to him even as jacaerys fought with aemond she had hope. It was finally over. She had prayed and prayed for this day to come.

And then blinded in her hope she had decided to send you. that it would take one last conversation between you and him to get closure she never got.

Yet you never returned.

When aemond walked through the door your dress in arm she crumbled to her knees and cried. He had won.

[cozage]

FLUFF! SWEET! ADORABLE! Fem S/O x Zoro, Luffy, Sanji, Ace, and Law hcs! Feeling lonely whenever their lover is busy, S/O sewed together a plushie version of her lover to keep her busy and confess secrets to her plushie like she was the one who are the last cake piece or something! And their lover has been feeling lonely bc S/O hasn’t been hanging with them that much!

A/N: :) this was so cute to make. I hope I had the right idea &lt;3

Characters: F! reader x Zoro, Luffy, Sanji, Ace, Law

Cw: just some fluff for your soul :) maybe a few brief moments of angst/sadness, but it's all happy endings, alcohol/drunk mention in Ace’s

Total word count: 4k (about 600-1k for each person)

A Plushie Substitute

Zoro

You hadn’t seen Zoro in a few hours, which wasn’t uncommon. He had been training extra hard here recently, and that resulted in you seeing your boyfriend even less than you normally did. You tried not to be too upset with the circumstances; you knew Zoro’s dream was to become the greatest swordsman in the world, and you would never get in the way of that. So instead, you created a small green-headed plushie with only one eye to take his place when you needed him while he was busy. You whispered your crew gossip to him that you got from Nami, and humorously found that the plushie Zoro spoke about as much as the real Zoro when you relayed the ship drama to him.

--

Zoro had done 1,000 push ups, 500 crunches, and 200 dumbbell squats. He had trained in all of the sword handling positions with his three swords and with weighted barbells until he had perfected each stance. He had worked all morning and all afternoon without stopping, and now all he wanted to do was see you. He wanted to sit in silence while you chatted about your day and filled him in on everything he had missed while he was training. A piece of him had hoped you would come up and interrupt his workout at some point, even if you just quietly existed together, but you hadn’t. So he set off to find you. 

--

Zoro eyed around the ship, looking for you in your normal spots on the deck. “Oi, Nami,” he called to the navigator. “Do you know where y/n is?”

Nami glared at Zoro for a moment, and then rolled her eyes. “I saw her on the stern a few minutes ago, staring off into the sea. Might wanna check on her.”

He walked to the rear of the boat, keeping his eye out for you. He found you sitting on the railing staring out to sea, just like Nami said. You appeared to be mumbling softly to someone, but he didn’t see anyone around you who you could be talking to. 

As he approached, you could hear someone coming up behind you, and you stopped speaking to plushie Zoro and quickly tucked him safely away. 

Zoro came over, easily hoisting himself up over the railing to sit next to you. He wrapped his arm around you to hold your waist, and you leaned into him, resting your head against his muscular chest. He pulled you closer into him, chuckling softly. He always loved when you snuggled up into him, and you loved being so close to him in simple ways.

You remained quiet, enjoying the silence with him. He looked over at you curiously, waiting for you to start talking about your day like normal, but you didn’t speak up. Finally he decided to prompt you, wanting to hear your voice. “How was your day?”

“It was good! I hung out with Nami on the deck for a bit.” You attempt to keep your recap of the day brief, not wanting to bother him with all of the boring details. You had already gotten all of the chattiness and gossip out of your system by talking to his plushie replacement. 

Zoro waits for you to expand, but you don’t, and he starts to grow concerned over your lack of conversation. He thought about how he heard you earlier when he approached, talking and laughing to some unseen person. He squeezed you lightly in an attempt to comfort you, though he wasn’t sure what he was comforting you from. “You okay? Who were you chatting with earlier when I arrived?”

You blush. “I’m okay. I was just talking to…well, you.” You pause, and you see a confused look pass over Zoro’s face. You reluctantly pull out the plushie you’ve created and show your boyfriend. You expect him to laugh at you or make some kind of joke, but he just silently takes the plushie from your hand and examines it for a few minutes. 

“You made this?” He finally asks. You simply nod in response. 

“It looks just like me. It even has a little haramaki and a bandana like mine.” He pauses for a moment to kiss your temple. “This looks really great. But why did you make it?”

Your eyes stay fixed on the plushie. “I just didn’t want to interrupt your workouts, and I know you don’t care much for the drama that I usually tell you about. I created him to help with that. That way I can still tell someone and you don’t have to listen to all my annoying rambling and-”

“Your rambling is not annoying,” Zoro says, cutting you off. “I like your voice. And I like your presence.” He hands the plushie back to you. “Keep this guy of course, but you can always talk to me about anything you want to, and you’re always welcome in the crow’s nest when I’m training. Actually, you should come up tomorrow. I can use you for some new workouts I’d like to try.”

You laugh at that sentiment, but you don’t continue the conversation anymore. You all stay quiet for a while before the moss-haired man speaks up again. “Y/N?”

“Hm?”

His cheeks are tinted as you look his way. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me. I’m not always a good talker, but I do always listen to you.”

“No, Zoro. It’s not that at all! I just…I just thought you weren’t interested, and I didn’t want to bother you with the silly stuff.”

“You can bother me now, if you’d like.”

And so you all sit on the railing, watching the sun sink into the sea. You talk, he listens, and all is right with the world. 

Luffy

It had been a long time since you had joined Luffy on an island adventure. He was always the type to run off and find trouble before the Sunny had even docked, whereas you preferred to take your time and do a check before you ventured to a new island. You didn’t mind the distance you two usually had on an island, but you did miss sharing an adventure with your boyfriend. Still, you refused to complain or stand in the way of his adventure, so you created a smaller version of him, working on as many small details as you could to make him as realistic as possible. And when you finished, you secured him onto your backpack, ready to set out on an adventure with a version of him. 

--

Luffy had been wandering around for several hours now, looking for something to do. There were small adventures he had found, like herding a farmer’s cattle and exploring some random caves. He even found giant holes in the ground with random artifacts and cool shining crystals, but he didn’t have much use for any of those things, and found it all relatively boring. This island was mostly safe, unfortunately for him, and now he just wanted to find you and try to explore more or head off to the next island.

--

“Oh, cool!” You hear Luffy behind you, rapidly approaching. You brace yourself just in time, and you feel the strawhat man crash into you from behind. His momentum sends you both tumbling into the dirt. 

“Luuuuufffffyyyy!” You’re now face down against the ground and Luffy is sitting on top of you, looking at your backpack with a deep interest. He seems to be completely unaware of the chaos his entrance just caused, or that you are struggling underneath him to get up. 

“Oh man, this is so cool! It’s like a mini-me! The straw hat and the scars and even the sandals! It’s perfect!” He bends down to meet your face and grins. “Hey, y/n! Who made this? I want one of you too!”

You sigh, giving up hope of getting up anytime soon, and answer his question. “I made it, Luffy.”

“No way! It looks amazing! I knew you could make stuff, but I had no idea you were this talented. Can you make me one of you too? So we can match!” His eyes glisten with hope as he’s turning the little doll over in his fingers, examining the details you managed to incorporate. 

“Sure, Luffy.” You’re being short with him, and he’s finally starting to notice. 

His eyes break away from the doll and finally look at you. “Hm? You okay? Do you need me to get up?”

“No, Luffy. It’s fine. I just made Mini-Luffy and clipped him onto my backpack so we could keep going on adventures together.”

“But we always go on adventures,” He questions. “We’re on one right now, aren’t we?”

“I know, but we’re usually split up during the whole thing. And I just, I don’t know…” You had promised yourself you wouldn’t get mad at Luffy for being a captain, for wanting adventure, but you realize now it really did hurt to be separated from him during important moments. “I don’t want to be left behind.”

Luffy gets off your back and stands, silently reaching out a hand to help you to your feet. He readjusts his hat to hide his face, and then takes your hand. “I’m sorry, y/n,” and you can hear the shame in his voice. “I won’t leave you ever again.”

You laugh at that, and you feel a little better now that you’ve gotten that fear off your chest. “Don’t be silly, Luffy.” You give him a peck on his cheek, right under his scar. “I’m not asking you to do that. Just maybe in the future when you slingshot to an island, take me with you every now and then, okay?”

He grins his classic, wide smile,and he nods. “Deal!”

Relief rushes through you, and you relax a bit. Now that you’ve talked to him about your worries, you want to know what his adventures have been on this island. “So, what did you find here? Anything interesting?”

He talks your ear off the whole way back to the ship, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. When you get back, you start working on a plushie look-alike of you for Luffy, and hand it to him a few days later. He loops it around his belt, grinning widely. “Now we’ll never be apart!”

When the next island appears, he slingshots away without you, but you choose to laugh at his hastiness to get to the island. It doesn’t bother you as much now, now that you’ve talked to him about it. But he quickly returns, wraps a rubber arm around you, and takes off again, laughing the whole way. “Almost forgot, but I’ll always come back for you!”

Sanji

Sanji had been gone for a while now, beckoned away again by your hungry captain. It had probably been the tenth time today that he had gotten up to make food for someone on the ship, but that was the duty that came along with the title of being the Sunny’s chef. You were normally pretty good about being on your own while Sanji had to work, but today you wanted to be around him. You went to your room to find some scrap cloth to piece together a Sanji stand-in for the time being.

--

The stove was still hot as Sanji cleaned up from Luffy’s eleventh meal of the day. He wasn’t sure if it was the calm ocean that made Luffy so restless and hungry, but Sanji was starting to get nervous about food rations. He never minded cooking for people of course, but it felt like he was spending more time cooking for his captain than he was spending time with you. He wanted nothing more than to run out to you and cover you in a shower of kisses to make up for lost time, but he knew he couldn’t leave the kitchen such a mess. While he cleaned up, he whipped up your favorite drink and snacks to bring out to you, excited to see your face again. 

--

Sanji strode towards you, thrilled to see you still sunning on the deck in your bathing suit. He had already taken Nami and Robin their own snacks, and left out other snacks for the boys if they got hungry. Hopefully that would give him a few hours of peace alone with you. 

“Y/N-swannnn,” he cooed to you as he approached, but stopped when he saw something in his seat. He looked at it curiously as he got closer, and he realized it was a small replica of himself.

His sudden silence prompted you to open one of your eyes, and you saw him looking at the doll you had put in his seat. “Oh…” you stutter, starting to sit up to explain.

“Y/N-swannnn! Did you make this?!?!” Sanji sets down your refreshments and picks up the doll, pausing briefly to give it a thorough examination. “It’s perfect!” he gushes. “You’ve created such a beautiful piece of work! It’s so-”

“It’s just for when you’re busy!” You rush to explain. “I missed having you around, that’s all.”

Sanji clutches the doll to his chest, and his eyes turn to hearts at your sentimentality. He rushes to you, finally embracing you after hours of being apart. He litters your faces with kisses, which causes you to erupt into a fit of giggles. Once he’s pampered you enough, he pulls you in for a hug, your plushie squeezed between the two of you. 

“Are you hungry, my love?” He pulls away from you, reaching back for the refreshments to serve you. He sneaks the plushie into his pocket while he displays the assortments of snacks and drinks for you to enjoy, which you happily oblige. 

The food is so perfect, you let out a soft moan in delight. “You always make the best food dear,” you praise. “I’ll never eat food from anyone else.”

“Only the best for my queen,” He says, kissing your forehead and taking a seat next to you. 

After a few minutes, you fell asleep surrounded by the smell of cigarette smoke. Sanji let you sleep, watching you endearingly until he was called away once again  to make dinner.

When you awoke a few hours later, you reached out for Sanji before opening your eyes, but only found air in his place. Your eyes peeked open, searching for him, but instead you found his plushie, along with a note that said “He’s only here until I get back ♥”

Ace

You had lost your fiery boyfriend once again. He was off, running amok with the group of  rowdy crew members on the new island. You had decided to stay on the ship, finishing up some minor projects instead of venturing out to the island. He was supposed to return before the sun set, but the moon was working its way through the night sky now, and you were too tired to stay up and wait for him longer. He had already missed your all’s afternoon nap, which made you skip it as well. You never slept well without him anyway. The next morning, he was still MIA, and you were painfully sleep deprived from missing a nap and not sleeping well. You put your crafting skills to work and created a smaller version of him, hoping that would help your sleeping problem temporarily. It ended up being successful, and you fell asleep easier than you expected, curling up with a small stuffed Ace in the absence of your normal sized one.

--

Ace had gotten hopelessly lost, both directionally and time wise. By the time he realized he was late getting back to the ship, he was too intoxicated to navigate back anyway, and opted to share a room with a bunch of his friends at the inn across the street. He slept horribly without you by his side, and as he shuffled back to the ship late the next morning, he prayed you’d be in the mood for an early nap along with him. 

--

Ace stumbled onto the ship, exhausted and hungover. His eyes raked over the deck, searching desperately for you. He didn’t go out with the boys often, and these days he always seemed to regret his adventures whenever they were included. He would’ve much rather been with you last night, and he hoped you’d forgive him for his last minute change of plans. 

He couldn’t find you on the deck, and he spent the next half an hour searching the ship for you, but he was unsuccessful. He finally gave up, returning to his room to nap with the hope that he would find you later.

He was shocked to find you curled up in his bed, already asleep. He’s even more surprised to see you holding a small stuffed animal, and a small tinge of jealousy rises up in him. You had told him before that you never needed a stuffed animal, since you had always had him to cuddle with at night. 

He climbed into bed next to you, brushing your hair back from your face and pressing his lips to your forehead. You stir, familiar with his touch, and your eyes lazily open to meet his. 

“Oh,” you smile, realizing Ace has finally returned back to you. “Hey, you.”

He smiles back to you, his worry melting away. “Hey you.”

You wipe the sleep from your eyes, and prop yourself up on your elbow. “How was your night?”

He fills you in on his evening briefly. “I wish I hadn’t been away for the whole night. I lost track of time. I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s alright.” You’re happy to hear that he missed you as well. Your fingers trail absentmindedly along his bare chest, not saying anything more about the matter. You had already forgotten about the Ace plushie you had created, but he was still staring at it in the dark room, trying to figure out what it was. 

He picked up the stuffed plushie between the two of you and examined it, quickly realizing that it was a replica of him. He caught your eye and held it up, smirking at you. “Miss me much?”

You gave a shy smile back to him, snatching the plushie from him quickly. “Maybe.” 

He gave you a soft peck on the lips, grinning at your timidness. “It looks cute. Not as cute as me, but cute. I like it.”

He pulls you against him, and you settle into his warm skin. “Shall we nap? Make up for lost time?”

You hum in agreement, already drifting off into sleep, comforted in the routine you all have returned to.

Law

Trafalgar Law had always been a surgeon first and a human being second. You knew that, and you knew how much being a surgeon with the Ope-Ope fruit meant to him. So, when you started dating and his study habits didn’t change, you tried to manage without him. You didn’t want to be too clingy, especially at the beginning. And you had always been good at sewing, so you just created a smaller version of the man you loved, so you could keep him around even when he was busy. Now, whenever you felt the urge to tell Law something throughout the day, you had someone to share it with even when he was occupied. 

-

Law stared at the ceiling fan that was lazily spinning in circles. He had been studying for hours, praying you would come in to distract him at some point. But you had started showing up less and less frequently now that the two of you were official. He wasn’t necessarily concerned about you getting cold feet; if something was wrong, he was certain you would talk to him rather than avoid him. Still, he missed you, your smile, the way you always ran into the room as if the most amazing thing in the world had just happened to you. These days, it felt like the only time he really saw you was during meals and island days. 

-

He found you in the common room, reading a book on the couch. He approached you quietly from behind, and as he bent down, he reached around and grabbed your book with his tattooed fingers as he rested his chin atop your head. 

You hummed pleasantly to his approach. “You’re out of your office early today.” You tilt your head up just enough to make contact with his golden eyes. 

“I needed a break.” He kissed your hair lightly and broke away from you, taking the book out of your hands and he stood back up. He closed it gently and sat it on the table behind him. He returned back to you again, this time reaching down to grab your now empty hands. “Do you want to make dinner with me?”

You had to tilt your head back further now to look him in the eye, and you saw him staring down at you with a smirk. 

That stupid smirk always made words more difficult than they were meant to be, and you take a second to find them all before you speak. “I didn’t think Bepo put you on the schedule for dinner this week, did he?”

His golden eyes pierce into yours, and you feel a blush enter your cheeks when he answers.“I was thinking just the two of us tonight. Pasta?”

-

You stir the sauce as Law begins to work on a side dish for the two of you. “Did anything interesting happen today?”

You hum back, trying to recall exactly what the crew got into today while your captain was locked away. “Oh! Clementine died. The crew gave him a burial at sea. It was very touching.”

You can hear Law stop whatever he was doing behind you. “Y/n-ya,” he starts slowly, gears turning in his head. “Who the hell is Clementine?”

You abandon the sauce momentarily to turn and face him. “You know, the fish Penguin caught the other day?”

“The fish?” His brows furrow at you, as if he’s trying to decide whether or not you’re playing a prank on him. “What fish?”

“The fish! The orange fish that Penguin caught and thought was too pretty to kill! I definitely told you about it.” He’s still staring at you with a confounded look spread across his face. 

“You definitely did not tell me about that.” The look on his face tells you that he’s being truthful, and you realize that you didn’t tell him. You told plushie Law about that day, not actual Law. You turn back to the saucepot, not wanting Law to see your face reddening over your mistake. “Oh, I must’ve been confused. Sorry.”

But your captain knows you well, and he walks over to you and wraps his arms around your waist. “Y/n-ya,” he speaks softly, his head now resting on your shoulder. “What are you hiding from me?”

Your blush deepens from pink to red, and you try your best to focus on the task in front of you. “Oh, uh, nothing.” You stutter over your words, not helping your case. 

“Y/n-yaaaa…” He presses his lips against your cheek for a long while. He always knows the best way to get you to cave to him, and you curse yourself for being so readable. 

“I just…” You pause for a moment, and he hums against your skin to urge you on. “I have this mini-you that I sometimes hang out with when you’re busy and tell stuff too. I guess I told Mini-Law about the fish…”

You feel Law pull away from you, examining your face. He’s trying to catch your eye, but you are intensely staring at the sauce in front of you.

“A mini-me?” He asks, confused. You finally look up at him, and you can see a twinge of sadness in his eye.  

“I just didn’t want to interrupt your studying!” You race to explain. “I know how important it is for you to be a surgeon and I didn’t want to get in the way-”

He pulls you close against his chest, stunning you into silence. You can feel his soft lips pressing into the crown of your head, and he inhales deeply against you. “You can always interrupt me to talk to me, no matter how small you think it is.” He pulls you back from him so he can look into your eyes again. “I’ve missed seeing you in my office. I’ve missed your stories and your voice. I want to hear everything, I want to know it all. So come bother me anytime, okay y/n-ya?”

“I promise.” He bends down to kiss you, and you find yourself smiling against his lips. You can smell the faint scent of tomato burning, but the two of you will figure that out later.

[sanakimohara]

Ok hear me out…

Jeongin finding out you have a chocking kink and him finding out he has a size kink on accident…. Because look at his hands… need them inside me and around my neck asap!

“A PERFECT FIT” Y. J.

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A/N: I'm backkkkkkkk! To be transparent, I have over 40+ requests in my inbox right now, so I'm starting from the bottom! Please forgive me for not answering your prompts earlier (I intend to make up for it). This was an eye-opening request, so I hope I did it justice!

[ MDNI ] + [ NSFW ] + [ CHOKING ] + [ SLIGHT DEGRADATION ] + [ MENTIONS OF CREAMPIE ] + [ IMPLIED SIZE DIFFERENCE ]

—————————————————————

“Innie…I don't know what to choose..” your brows scrunch together slightly as the array of jewelry being shown to you expands. The subtle sparkle each item radiates almost overwhelms you, but seeing them makes your heart flutter nonetheless. Jeongin laughs softly, amused by how distraught you look though you're only picking out his anniversary gift to you, “Nothing is too much, hun. Pick whatever you want. Take your time, sweetheart.” He reassures with a gentle smile, motioning the clerk to halt their jewel showcasing. They do as he asks without a word, patiently waiting for a sign to step back in, and hopefully successfully secure a sale.

The two of you looked more than qualified to make an obscene purchase. Dressed nicely for a special occassion that was nothing short of wistful dream come true for you.

One year together…with all of its ups and downs, you'd managed to keep Jeongin wrapped around your finger, and he, in turn, guarded your heart like no other person had before.

Your awed expression shifts to subtle excitement while admiring the jewels at your fingertips.

“They’re all so wonderful… this one here is nice. Oh, but look Innie! That one comes in a set- Ah I'm getting ahead of myself aren't I?…” You bite back a giddy smile, gaze raking over every little detail, and Jeongin feels compelled to by the entire store seeing you so happy.

The diamonds glittered like little stars in your eyes, glinting in the high-end stores' ambient lights and pulling your attention in every direction. When Jeongin mentioned going out on a shopping spree, you hadn't expected him to take you here first, but who were you to complain? Not many men you knew would go to such lengths to celebrate a first anniversary, and even fewer would urge you to pick whatever you wanted without a budget.

You supposed Jeongin had far surpassed your expectations of a good partner long ago, but his tendency to spoil you at random wasn't something you'd gotten used to fully.

With a deep breath and a cheerful hum, you suggested a solution to your dilemma of choice. “How about you help me decide on a few choices, and we can go from there.” He holds your gaze for a long moment, smiling wide as your voice hangs in the air, soft and soothing in the quiet atmosphere.

The silent moment lengthens as he stares at you, unmistakably taken with your gentle doe eyes peering up into his piercing ones for an inevitable compromise.

“Seems fair to me,” Jeongin finally obliges your request, stepping so close that you must crane your neck to maintain eye contact with him. You nearly lose your breath after being so close, blushing intensely as he smirks at you. Even after a year, he managed to cluster you with ease, uncannily flirtatious on a whim, and incredibly full of himself -an unfortunately addictive trait of his you found domineering in every sense. You'd never considered letting him know it, though.

The impending tension oozing off Jeongin doesn't relent as you lower your eyes to his chest, smirking at the sight of your lipstick stains peeking through the collar of his shirt.

You intended to add a few more markings on him if he kept towering over you with a shameless glint behind his eyes. Jeongin wouldn't refuse the exchange either.

“What should I try on first, then,” you playfully cooed at him, glancing away from his skin to the sparkling white and gold jewelry on the pristine glass display counter.

One piece could easily be worth a year of your rent and bills combined….

Jeongin couldn't care less about the price of anything when it came to you, unable to put a price on your adoration for him and selfishly delighting in being the only man to put a smile on your face. “Let's see, this one and this piece would be a good start. I saw you eyeing these two as well..” He quickly pointed out his favorite pieces for you to try on, knowingly choosing a few you also favored. Your smile grew as his considerate nature shone through, watching his nimble and long fingers clad in silver rings gesture over various jewelry pieces. Jeongin could feel you eyeing him, merely stealing a sultry glance your way as he motioned the salesperson close again. “We’ll try these on first.” he identifies the items to them, and you watch as velvet-gloved hands remove a diamond tennis necklace, white gold lock bracelets, pure white rose studs with a matching locket, and finally, a three-stack silver and ruby ring with a low hanging charm necklace.

They were all so captivating in your eyes, each gleaming at the tips of Jeongins fingers as he scrutinized them. His touch was featherlight, but his focus was unwavering; specific scrutiny clouded his eyes as if every diamond needed to measure his standards or reflect his appreciation of you.

After a few moments of inspection, they seemed to pass his test, the diamond tennis necklace being the first to rest in his palm as he turned to face you. “Turn around,” he murmurs, a sweet but borderline smothering command. “Hm,” you chirp, afraid to speak in case a tremor of anticipation slipped through it, willing yourself to exhale correctly as you turn on your heel to face the nearest full-length mirror.

God, please don't do this to me…

Your breath catches again as Jeongin stares you down through the reflective surface, not so innocently drinking in your appearance, teeth catching his bottom lip as his eyes finally catch yours. The look was clear, somewhat frightening to you in such a public place, but exciting nonetheless. He wasn't shy about eye fucking you in others' presence since the beginning of your relationship, but this instance felt entirely different from the other times. The usual jolt of pleasure you felt heightened realizing the difference in his desire, those cunning eyes of his shrouding a hidden intent, and one you couldn't quite figure out at the moment.

The weight of his stare keeps your heart racing, numbing your thoughts to dull white noise as he steps close to you, invading your space like always but making it a point not to touch you directly. It's almost sickening how much you want to break for him right then, stilling a soft whimper of his name in a rushed breath as he holds the dainty necklace up in front of you both. He doesn't spare the jewelry a glance as he speaks lowly, pacing his words as he studies your more petite figure shrouded in his larger frame, “I don't think you need another necklace, baby.. You already have one specially made for you anytime you want it..” he leans in closer, breathing fanning the back of your neck and lobe of your ear in gentle waves as his free hand slithers up your chest to grasp your neck gently….

“Mm-” you gulp down a moan as he squeezes your throat, letting the metal of his rings sink into your skin like a branding iron before placing a chaste kiss on the juncture of your jaw and neck. The smile on his face feels evident on your skin, warming it with sudden heat and making you forget where the two of you were. He seems to fail, too, taking the chance to nip at your ear playfully, earning a surprised flinch from you. “J-Jeongin, we are in public-” you protest in a whisper, cheeks a red hue as he relents his hold on you and pretends that nothing vulgar has happened, but the pleased expression on his face says otherwise.

“You say that as if it'll stop me, honey. It won't…” he cockily responds, the bright smile returning in full force as you glare at him in response. “You’re such a shameless pervert,” you mutter back, knowing the insult won't phase him but rather rile him up further.

He doesn't mask his lack of cordialness, always entertained by small thing like you pointing out his schemes with an attitude of a propriety despite enjoying his public admvaces. “Dont be so mean, baby. I'm only having a little fun…” Jeongin lifts the necklace with both hands and you carefully move your hair to let him clasp it around your neck. The glimmer it gives off compliments your skin, drawing your attention like a magnet, but it's quickly refocused as he whispers in your ear again.

“And don't act like you don't get all worked up when I do.”

If your cunt wasn't weeping before, it indeed was now, crying to be touched by him and distracting you for the rest of the time you spent trying on jewelry.

Jeongin took every chance to mess with you, subtly rough with you each time he made you try on a piece, cooing in your ear how pretty you looked in each one, and purposefully giving you no personal space if no one was paying the two of you any particular attention.

He couldn't help himself.

Each time, you shivered closer to him as cold jewels touched your heated skin, making his chest tight with greed for more. The picture-perfect image of you all dolled up, admiring diamonds he'd gladly give you and so willingly allowing his advances to continue. Every necklace around your neck prompted him to replace it with his hand again, a growing addiction he couldn't wait to satiate and savor all at once. The softness of your smaller hands rests on him as you trace over silver and gold. The confidence in your opinions on each piece slowly dwindles with every whispered promise of him fucking you in them later, and your will to be indifferent is completely forgotten as he swipes his card for it all.

It drove Jeongin insane, so much so that the rest of your date went unfinished, put on complete stand-by as he dragged you into his dorm.

You stumbled behind him as the electronic door clicked shut, trying to giggle as he kicked his shoes off, dropped his coat and keys on the couch, and practically did the same steps for you.

There was no use in telling him you could do those tasks yourself; he gave no time even to discuss the mundane steps and swept you into his bedroom seconds later.

“Jeongin… oh fuck!-” You squeal as he kicks the door shut, tugging his shirt off as you trip back into his bed from the force of his shove. You move to stand up and help him undress, but he's much faster than you. His body slides between your legs, the coarse black fabric of his jeans an excellent contrast to the overly warm skin of your thighs, and you groan quietly from the contact. “Wait…” you mumble helplessly, eyes sliding shut as he leans forward, a hand finding your neck while the other reaches for his belt. You stare in awe, watching his fingers work the silver button out, the zipper pulled down next, but the band of his boxers is left untouched as he holds your jaw upwards. “Wait? For what, hun? Haven't we done enough of that today?..” he croons at you, inching closer until you have no choice but to lay flat underneath him with your gaze fixed on his.

Dryness invades your mouth seeing his eyes darken, cunt starting to pulse his name the longer he stares, and the apparent bulge of cock pressing on you not helping at all. Jeongin reads the depravity taking over your expression, growing hot when you squirm underpin helplessly, chasing his lips for a heated kiss that initiated messier ones after. You gripped at his forearms, nails digging into his skin as his muscles flexed under your touch, intending you trailed them into his amber hair.

His tongue dived for yours, toying with it until you were out of breath, drool slipping down both your chins as he pulled back a bit. You tried to speak but gasped instead as he choked you a little more complicated, smiling as your eyes rolled back, and a soft whimper flew past your lips on instinct. Jeongin should've felt ashamed of how his heart soared seeing you so distraught because of him, how tiny you looked, struggling to breathe under his hold, but all he could think about was doing it again with his covk buried in you.

It was all you could fathom, smiling like a fool as he loosened his grip seconds later to kiss you softly as an unspoken apology. “Too much?..” he inquired quietly, ready to stop himself from doing it again if you were uncontrollable. Still, the delighted hum you responded with said otherwise. “Do it again…as much as you want,” you breathed into his ear as his lips found other skin to attack, baring down on your jeweled neck before trailing to the collar of your top.

Jeongin lifted his eyes to yours, one look you understood well enough not to ask what it meant, and nodding complicity to. He kissed the valley of your breasts as a wordless thank you, sitting you both up to strip your top half naked. You shivered as cool air hit your skin, the chill soon dulled away as he laid ontop of you again.

His hands wandered your body, playing with the flesh of your breasts and rolling your nipples to stiff peaks between his fingers. Your curves got plenty of his attention, groped at every opportunity when you arched up against him, arms around his neck to keep him close for one tongue kiss after the next. “So cute..” Jeongin mumbled as you moaned against his lips, fingers wrapping around your throat like a missing puzzle piece, and you tugged his hair in response as the added pressure made your new diamond choker dig into your skin.

He smirks at the slight pain in your eyes, “Hurts?”

You nod as best you can, hips unconsciously raising to meet his as fear-induced heat floods your core. Jeongin smiles wide, “Awe, you poor, sweet, little thing… it's supposed to.” his voice turns ice cold, matching the force he uses to pin you down underneath him as he hikes your skirt to rest above your hips and tugs at your panties so hard threads audibly rip.

You want to panic as the need to breathe hits, but you can't bring yourself to as his free hand slips past your underwear to cup the soaked mound hidden there. Stars pickle your vision as he prods his middle finger on the first, carefully timed strokes of your inner walls, causing them to clench down on it, and he adds another to challenge the reaction. Jeongin groans, seeing your thighs quiver violently, slowly getting slick with cum the longer he pumps his fingers into you, “You're tight as ever, baby. Haven't been filled in a while since I've been gone…almost makes me feel bad.”

His taunting sounds distant, only becoming apparent when his grip on your neck loosens, “J-Jeong- god!” you hiss as he adds a third finger, twisting and stretching them with lethal intent. Your legs open wider on his bed, hands fisting the covers and his wrist, but your eyes staring far off into space as he coaxed your climax out. “Don’t wanna come yet…” you protest quietly as he leans down to spit on your cunt, pushing it further in you with a satisfied hum, and you shudder as the new substance taints your insides. “Oh, but I want you to, little one. I gave you such a pretty gift today, and it'd be wrong not to get my money's worth..” he feigned concern, curling his fingers to hit your sweet spot on, knowing he hit it when you yelped and nodded your head vigorously in agreement.

“Yes! Yes!… Yes, Innie, please!” you tried to stay still but felt a particular rush hit that had you crying out and trying to run from him instead. Jeongin halted your attempts with a squeeze on your neck and deliberately slowly circled his thumb on your clit. The contrast of no air and sudden stimulation made you come undone in seconds, come gushed onto his hand like a small river. You groaned as he worked you through the high, not caring at all that you squirted all over his hand and sheets.

He only wanted more after the fact, commenting on how wonderous your release was like he'd won a prize, “All that from a small thing like you. How lucky am I, hm?” Jeongin slipped his hand from between your shaking thighs, passing his come-coated fingers up your body until they reached your lips. His cock twitched as you mindlessly kitten licked them, tears treating to run from your eyes as you sucked on them gently. Even your mouth felt confining, struggling to take his fingers but still willing to, and the apparent tight fit left him reeling.

Too tired to think straight, you lapped at his fingers like candy, occasionally gagging as drool dribbled down your chin, and the unexpected air loss beginning to make you dizzy but not delirious enough to pass out.

The feeling of his bare cock finally resting on your slit brought you back to your senses in a matter of minutes. His fingers left your mouth empty, the spit on them used to lubricate his length from tip to base. You watched in a daze as he pumped his fist twice, his low moans clouding your thoughts and the sight of his skin collecting a thin sheen of sweat along with the love-drunk expression on his face, burning memory in them.

“Jeongin..” you call out to him sweetly, meeting his gaze as he pushes into slowly, groaning your name like a practiced melody as your cunt throbs against every inch of length. “Relax..” he warns you, breathless as you stare at him wistfully, willing your body to do as he asks. The stretch of his cock is familiar, welcoming even, but it still has a burning edge to it. He's a lot to take on a good day, taking your breath away with one stroke and tearing you apart with the next. “Trying..” you whisper against his lips as he lowers his head to rest on yours, not breaking eye contact as he buries himself to the hilt in your warm walls.

“Mmm, and you doing so well, too,” he praises you quietly, losing his breath as he drags his hips back to slam back in a bit harder than the first time. You jolt under him, moaning loudly while locking your legs around his hips to keep him deep. “Selfish, aren't we?” Jeongin chuckles at your attempt to keep him still, admiring the lazy smile on your lips as you nod yes, not caring if he could break away with no effort.

Only an hour ago, you asked him for a piggyback ride to his car, tired from walking around the shopping center, taking advantage of his taller stature for your gain. Now, here you were begging him to invade your smaller one and stay inside it, and the stark difference had his blood running hot.

Jeongin could overpower you, and in turn, you begged him to.

The hold you had on him didn't last long as the realization crossed his mind, sabotaged by his decision to unlock your legs from his waist before pressing your thighs up and open for unrestricted control. “Oh god damn it!..” you drawled helplessly as he grinned down at you, clearly proud of himself as he began to pound into you at his own pace. Fast and direct thrusts that had your toes curling, chest heaving, and insides twisting with pleasure. Your head lulled back, eyes fluttering shut as Jeongins definitive hits abused your sweet spot and forced your body to comply with his size.

Jeongin hissed as your neck came into his blurred view, red lines from his rings and your new necklace evident, but the actual detail captivating him was the light bruises his fingertips left. He'd have to make up for the blemishes later, but for now, he wanted to add more, taken by how fragile you looked underneath him and quite proud of his handwork.

You felt the coil in your stomach tighten, cum leaking from where you two connected, and your head emptying of any thoughts the closer he brought you to coming again. He studied every movement you made, how your body tensed when his cock entirely nestled into you, the immediate rise of your lower stomach when he went further, and the tremor in your moans strengthening as he fucked you into a complete stupor.

She's so tiny…so soft… so fucking warm.

He reveled in the observations, bringing himself to his end and driving him to hit you harder. The firm grip of both his hands around your throat left you disoriented, on the verge of snapping as he restricted your breaths while simultaneously giving your cunt deliberate strokes. You claw at his wrists just as it became too much, a relieved scream erupting from you as your high crashed down.

Jeongin smiles at you incredulously, taken aback but nowhere near displeased.

“That's what gets you off, little one? Being fucked like a slut. Come on, tell me the truth,” he teases you lowly. His gaze shifted from your face contorted in pleasure to the cream cum ring connecting you both. He watches your mouth fall open as he fucks you through a second high. “Hmm, n-no!” you try to answer but give up as words allude to you, replaced by cries of his name. His hips are faster for a second, cock twitching inside you as your nails prick his wrists.

He's close, and you take advantage of that, putting pressure on his hand to choke you harder, and he takes the hint in a split second.

“Tell me if it's too much…” Jeongin grunts loudly, hips snapping faster and breaths coming short as your cubt involuntarily closes in on his cock. The pleasurable aftershock of his thrusts adds to the tingling buzz engulfing your body as oxygen leaves your lungs. You want to answer him, want to breathe even, but can't while gasping for air while the coil in your tummy snaps to pieces.

“Shit! Fuck!” his voice vibrates the room, guttural whines tumbling from his mouth as your arousal spills on him for the second time, but the distracting feelings, unless his form and the pressure on your throat vanishes. “Jeongin!…” you gasp for air, shaking uncontrollably as the world returns to focus for you.

He laughs dryly, hearing you shout his name first despite being on the brink of passing out seconds ago, a proud grin plastered on his face when your gaze fogs over, and the last of his patience leaving at the sight.

“Dont move..” he buffs, and you nod obediently, mewling quietly as a familiar warmth envelops your cunt, his release streaming down your slit as he slowly pulls out. Jeongin appears mildly entranced at the mixture, tapping your thigh appreciatively, and you whine at the gentle contact. “Easy, hun.” he saunters closer, clearly just as exhausted as you are, slumping beside you to catch his breath. You blink the haze from your eyes, able to land back on earth with little effort, but your body still feels unsteady as you could up close to him.

“Never knew you were into that Innie,” you whisper hoarsely, lips grazing the skin of his shoulder blade. He shudders violently, sensitive to your broken voice and mentally fixed on the high you shared. His brows turn downward, jovial confusion in his expression as he lifts his head, “Into what, babe?” You giggle at the question, assuming he'd been fully aware of his new kink, but obviously, he wasn't, which amused you.

“Choking, silly. You almost made me pass out…not that I would mind.” you fall flat onto your back as he laughs tiredly, “I'm not, but you are.” his retort is definite, an observation, and one you don't negate.

“True, but that's not the only thing new for you, Innie…”

He shifts, standing to begin cleaning you both up, and you sit up to follow but halt as he kneels to take off your skirt and ripped panties. “And what do you mean by that?” Jeongin peers at you curiously, taking his time to undress you. “Hm, I don't know… I just got the feeling you like that I'm smaller than you. You've never been so rough before, and it was nice to be treated so….easily.”

A smile crosses your face as he freezes, eyes narrowing up at you, “Now, look who's the pervert..” His teasing makes you scowl at him briefly; a solid thump on his head follows, “M’ not a percert!..”

“Says the girl, pointing out my kinks-”

He flinches and laughs as you lunge at him, catching you the moment your weight pins him to the ground, “You talk a lot of shit Yang Jeongin…” you hiss playfully.

Your hands raise to pinch his cheeks but Jeongin is quicker, gripping your wrists with one hand, and the other grasping your hip. “Ah!” you squeal in surprise as he flips over, holding you down while you wriggle under his weight.

The struggle is electrifying and playful but tense. The exact excitement he felt earlier bloomed again, seeing you put up a fight to lose when his lips met your parted ones.

You were right.

He'd never admit it.

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This was my first request since being gone so long. I feel like I did okay, but please give me feedback cause I don't know if my style has changed since then. Anyway, I love you, babies, and thank you for all the love and support!

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

You know, if I had a dollar for every time I imagined how good Jeongin might look fucked out, I'd be a millionaire already. (I'm back on my unhinged shit, as you can see) credit to the creator. 🖤

[amongemeraldclouds]

no take backs

As the earth collapsed around you, your sworn enemy decides to confess his feelings for you with a kiss. So when the world doesn’t end, what happens next?

Jess Mariano x f!Reader

Warning: 18+ only MDNI, fluff, slight angst, unprotected sex, piv, v!fingering, reader has anxiety (only plays a small part in the story), earthquake (no injuries)

Author’s note: Based on this request then I expanded on the concept. This fic is set after he left Stars Hollow.

✿ Masterlist | ✿ Jess Mariano Masterlist | 2.4k words

“Just because I’m letting you drive me home, does not mean we’re friends,” you huffed as you climbed into the passenger seat of Jess Mariano’s beat up car. Vintage, he called it. You’d never admit it, but you found it cute how he was proud of it. To him, it was his key to freedom, going anywhere he wanted whenever he wanted. Except for when nature had other plans.

“Well, a coworker could take his other coworker home, okay?” He said, closing the car door as he slid his keys into the ignition and started up the car. You relent and gave him your address.

It was just your luck that the Earth’s tectonic plates decided to shift in ways that damaged your car, but not your mortal enemy’s. Perhaps it was karma and you were being encouraged to make amends with him in the name of world peace. Try as you might however, the word “peace” and Jess Mariano just did not fit.

It certainly did not feel peaceful being trapped in a car with him. Your cheeks blushed as you remembered how soft his lips felt against yours and the eager way they moved as if it was the final thing he would ever do in his life. And for a few moments back at the publishing house, tucked safely beneath a table while the world shook violently around you, you were both convinced it was your last moments.

It was confusing. The way your heart hammered and you didn’t know if it was from fear of dy*ng or the way his kiss invaded your entire being. From the moans it elicited from your throat, to the air it stole from your lungs, and the butterflies that rushed in your stomach. It was hard to tell if it really was just an earthquake or the mind-shattering truth that your enemy might not actually hate you at all.

Then it was over too soon. The air felt cold without him close to you and he was pulling you up from under the table.

“So we’re just not going to talk about it?” You asked, piercing the awkward silence.

Jess just shrugged and spoke casually, “talk about what?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, of course he wasn’t going to make this easy for you. But he had no right confusing you with a kiss after constantly making your life a waking nightmare.

“Jess, you kissed me,” you deadpan, addressing the elephant in the room. “Coworkers don’t kiss other coworkers.”

“A lapse of judgment in a life-threatening situation,” he dismissed, keeping his eyes straight on the road.

Your mouth curled, the sweet aftertaste of his kisses turning sour. You fumed in silence as you looked outside the window with unfocused eyes. You weren’t sure what you were more upset about: his denial or your disappointment - having to face the horrid fact that you also didn’t hate your enemy.

“Shit, the road’s blocked,” Jess drew you out from the thunder of your thoughts as you looked at the cars lined up ahead. It was like a scene from one of those post-apocalyptic films you’ve seen and dread sank in your chest. Perhaps you should stick to watching cheesy rom coms because this pessimism was not helpful at all.

“Can we go somewhere else?” You whispered softly, anxiety bearing down your chest.

Jess looked at you with concern. “Sure, let’s find somewhere we can park until things get better,” he replied with an equally soft tone and you hated it because he knew all about your anxiety and penchant for panic attacks. You didn’t like being weak around him, not if he could be sweet and caring only to take it all back when you’re fine.

He parked the car in between buildings, sheltered from the wails of emergency response vehicles and the rush of people trying to go home. You exhaled after going through rounds of breathing exercises to calm your anxiety.

“My my, a secluded alley. Jess Mariano, whatever do you plan to do with me?” You quipped, mildly accusing him or m*rder when the other meaning dawned on you, something that made you blush. Well, it was too late to back out now.

He smirked, “whose to say you’re not the one who wants to do things with me with that line of questioning, huh?”

“I wouldn’t do anything if I was the only one who liked it,” you hedged. Perhaps life was too short to keep denying your feelings. If there was ever a better time to learn that lesson, it was now. You just needed him to admit he felt it too.

“I don’t like the idea of being k*lled, thanks,” he scoffed as he plastered on a smug smile.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” you looked outside the window, an idea forming in your head.

“It sure is getting hot,” you comment innocently as you undid the top buttons of your blouse. Jess’ eyes followed your movement and you don’t miss the way his breath hitches.

“Better get comfortable, right?” You said, adjusting the car seat to lean back and you felt your blouse open slightly to reveal your cleavage. You were not going to make it easy for him to deny his feelings.

“Stop that,” Jess demanded while his eyes told a different tale of desire and longing.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you replied lazily. Two can play that game.

That’s right Jess, you thought, here’s a dose of your medicine. You continued, “this is much better.” You leaned your head back and stretched on the seat, aware of how your skirt inched up your legs.

You let out a satisfied moan, sighing in pleasure at thoughts of getting comfortable. If by comfort, you meant the satisfaction of derailing Jess’ denial and stubbornness. His eyes traced your legs then followed your chest when they rose and fell with your sigh. 

Jess grunted and you bit back a smile. “Okay, fine. So I kissed you,” he admitted.

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “You said it meant nothing, so why would it matter?”

“I never said it meant nothing, I said it was a lapse of judgment.”

“There’s a difference?” You raised your eyebrow, challenging him to continue.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he steeled himself. To Jess Mariano, telling the truth meant peeling back the layers of his sarcasm, which was as painful as stripping off his skin.

“You know when they say the world is about to end, you’d think your life flashes before your eyes. But all I could see was you. And it wasn’t just because you were in front of me. God, I closed my eyes, and all I could see was still you. Laughing at your own jokes, greeting everyone with a smile, typing away on your computer. It would be such a shame if I didn’t get to kiss you if that was the last thing I’d ever do, damn it. But then the earthquake stopped and we were fine.”

Your eyebrows creased as you let his words sink in. “Is it really so bad that we survived?”

He narrowed his eyes at you, “I don’t think I could ever survive you. You frustrate me because you’re just so…you! You’re not someone I could just kiss once and get out of my system. I’d always want more and then I’d inevitably screw it up. It was better that you hated me from the start.”

His eyes burned with untold stories of heartbreak and self destruction. Despite all the ways he infuriated you, you wanted nothing more than to hold him. You had a feeling you were just seeing who he truly was beneath his smug smiles and his devil-may-care attitude.

“Jess, I don’t hate you,” you confess. “Don’t just make it one kiss,” you continue, allowing yourself to be just as honest as him. “Have another one, and another, and heck - have all of me!”

He looked at you in disbelief, as if he wished for the stars and he was told he could have the whole damn galaxy. A spark of joy and hope ignited something wild in him that he no longer let himself think of past regrets and mistakes.

He inched towards you, looking into your eyes for permission and you bridged the distance in response, kissing him. It was fiercer than when you both thought you were on the brink of de*th, because this time, it was a celebration of life and the possibilities that lay ahead.

You felt it when he sucked on your bottom lip and you moaned in pleasure, a small sound for all the words you couldn’t say. How all those time spent hating him was just a shield from your admiration of the man who took destiny in his own hands and never let the world define him.

The man who wrote stories and downplayed them through luck and how ink fumes must have altered his publisher’s minds to pick him. He never once acknowledged his talent, but secretly you did with the way you underlined your favorite sentences and re-read his book as if his words could wrap you in a sweet embrace.

He always kept you at an arm’s length and made your life hell, but it was heaven just being beside him. And you never dared to admit it. Until now, when he’s unbuttoning your blouse as he unravels your secrets. His mouth moves to your neck, setting your body on fire.

“Wait, what if someone sees us?” You ask, a wave of sobriety washing over you.

Jess just smirked, his lips pink and swollen, hungry for more of your kisses. “That’s half the fun.”

You rolled your eyes but god - you needed him. “And the other half?” You asked, mirroring his smirk.

“This,” he just says as he resumes your kiss.

It’s agony when you pull away again just to alleviate your anxiety, “can we at least go to the back?” It’s not much, but it’s better than being right by the windshield.

“Spacious,” he nods, moving away so you could climb over to the backseat. You felt the heat of his stare behind you as you settled in. 

He promptly followed suit until your bodies are tangled again with him laying you down the seat, careful so you don’t hit your head. You bring your hand to his stupid hair and run your fingers through it. His hands return to your blouse and your back arches on instinct when he unclasps your bra and he takes a moment to look at you. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he breathes as he squeezes your breast while he licks the other, planting soft tender kisses.

In his car, the sirens and chaos faded. You were consumed by Jess’ touch, both curious and possessive at the same time. His free hand traveling down your leg as he caressed it, slowly making his way to your inner thigh. You can’t help the way you squirmed beneath him as you held your breath in anticipation. In response, you palm his erection beneath his uncomfortably tight jeans and you’re rewarded with a grunt.

He teased you through your panties and you open your legs for him as he moves the thin fabric aside to feel your soft folds. You bite your lip and try to stifle your moan, but Jess brings his mouth to your ear, “I need to hear you, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.” You cursed in response, your mind swimming in a haze of euphoria.

His fingers send shockwaves of pleasure as he spreads your liquid heat, exploring your folds and paying attention to which sensations left you whimpering. He exploited them skillfully, rubbing and teasing, eager to make you a moaning mess for him. You gasped when he plunged his fingers inside you and you arched your back, needing him deeper.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me,” he admires as he pumped his fingers in and out. You moved your hips against his hand, needing more of him. He was finally here, doing things you used to just dream about, secrets stashed beneath soft covers in your moonlit bedroom.

“Jess, please. I need to feel all of you,” you begged and his eyes darkened.

“I’m all yours,” he replied as he removed his fingers and cleaned them off with his tongue. “Fuck you taste so good.” 

You helped him free his hard length and you don’t stifle the needy moan that escapes you this time when he fills you up. He takes a few slow movements before building up to a steady pace, the delicious friction making your toes curl. “You feel amazing, Jess,” you tell him.

He kissed you as he rocked his hips into you, a clash of teeth and tongue. There was nothing gentle in the way you moved against each other, it was pure want and longing crashing into each other. It was months of fantasies finally coming true and desires unleashed building in your core.

The car moved along with you, giving you extra leverage to find your rhythm. The irony was not lost on you that as the world shook around you once again, things were falling into place this time.

Filthy, desperate whimpers escaped his lips and you spread your legs wider, needing him deeper inside you. He squeezed your breast in response and teased your taut nipples, eager to worship all of you. You closed your eyes when you felt yourself teetering on the edge.

“Look at me,” Jess tells you instead and so you do. You see the lust and passion in his eyes and it’s enough to unravel you. Little earthquakes of ecstasy erupt through you as you shuddered against him. He increases his pace, eager to coax every last aftershock of your orgasm. It doesn’t take long before you feel his release warming your insides. He rests his head in the crook of your neck as he recovers his breath.

When he pulls out, you swipe his spilled seed from your leg and bring it in your mouth, enjoying the salty taste. “Fuck you’re so hot,” Jess breathes out. 

You grin. “So this happened. You gonna deny it?” You challenged him as he held you.

“Nope,” he said with a grin. “This happened. You’re mine and I’m yours. No take backs.”

“No take backs,” you echoed as you leaned in for another kiss.

It was perfect. The world could end at that moment and you would not mind at all.

Still you were glad to stay alive. Because then, you could always go another round, and another. So it goes.

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