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#he missed out on a lot of childhood okay
cpshit · 1 year
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Laurent/Nikandros has good angst potential but also consider if their relationship instead actually solidifies into younger-brother-who-LOVES-being-annoying and older-brother-who-barely-tolerates-it. Laurent is canonically very much about pushing the envelope with Nikandros at every opportunity. Auguste was indulgent and protective and soft, so Laurent thinks he knows what he’s getting himself into, but Nikandros WILL push him into the lake or kick his ass in the training ring or chase and tackle him when he’s being snarky. Laurent whips olives across the table at him when no one’s looking until Damen tells him to stop or until Nikandros slams his hands on the table like he’s going to jump across it, and then just sits there smirking into his dinner. He runs up and just shoves Nikandros as hard as he can sometimes because he’s bored and then gets his ass kicked for it. They are the definition of horsing around. Laurent is EVERYWHERE Nikandros is and nothing Nikandros does seems to deter him. They’re like this-
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saturnniidae · 2 months
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Modern au Hiccup getting taken out on a Father & Son hunting trip a few months after after coming out to celebrate. One of the most affirming yet horrifying experiences of his life but he can shoot a hunting rifle now, so that's something.
(At least it wasn't as bad as his tenth birthday gift; rabbit butchering lesson. Berk is just Like That though)
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pepprs · 2 years
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also the favoritism thing is still making me so fucking mad and insane btw. im not jealous / resentful of my brother bc he deserves her love and is also burdened in his own ways by it and bc i think my drama w my mom has shaped my life in profound ways and given me friends i cherish and i would never trade any of that for the world but jesus fucking christ. why do i have to beg you to interact with me like a mother. why do i have to talk to me at all beyond asking me to do you 847439473 favors a day. why do i have to beg you to take an interest in my life and apologize when you hurt me and be nurturing and perceptive for once in your fucking life. like it hurts to hear her asking him about his classes and whatever bc she didn’t think i was stressed out w school but i had to talk to a ****** hotline last decemver when i couldn’t take it anymore and my mental health was crashing and burning and it doesn’t even fucking matter to her at all and she’s going to get him the nice gifts and throw him the nice parties and whatever because she hates me and my sister for… and let me get this straight… being complicated and anxious and depressed and also girls. lol!
#purrs#delete later#sorry i knowive been insane about momposting but this shit has me screeching like an ape. the way when my brother was born she decided me#and my sister would be okay with each other bc we were twins and meanwhile she was leaving my sister to have anxiety attacks and me to take#care of her and all of this happening at like 7 years old and she would come into my brothers room every single night and kiss him goodnight#and talk to him for a long time and she wouldn’t even come in and say goodnight to us. LOL. ok. like our room being a depression nest is not#an excuse. us not helping out much in the kitchen or around the house (which is bad but also we have reasons for it that i think are valid#and i only do it here and not elsewhere btw.) is not a good excuse. you can’t decide you love your one kid more because he helps out and#keeps his room clean and whatever. maybe he is normal because you made it very clear from the time that he was born that he was your top#priority and you gave him your attention and didn’t take it away meanwhile my sister and i have always had to share bc we’re twins and she#cast us aside when he was born and has fucking tormented both of us for years over who we like what we want where we go all of that shit and#then has the AUDACITY to call herself a good mother. being a good mother is more than feeding your kid and projecting your childhood trauma#onto them by preventing them from ever developing cancer to the point where they’re afraid fo like. go outside. you have to be patient and#nurturing and kind and like.. motherly. ans i know no one can be a perfect mother and she has been hurt so badly and she is dealing with a l#lot right now but COME ON. for gods SAKE. i am right fucking here. why don’t you care about me? why do you make it clearer every day?#ask to tag#like the way she would say when my sister and i were growing up and going through it that she wished she could book a hotel and live there f#far away from us and miss out on us growing up so she wouldn’t have to deal with us being anxious and hormonal because we were teenage girls#LOL. totally did not impact me at all. totally is not a wound that informs every breath i take and every thought i have. not at all#* like maybe he is normal because you uh… idk. just a guess here. actually gave him the motherlove people need to be functioning healthy#human beings? idk. just a silly thought. haha
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 6 months
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ring pop proposal ♡
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fem reader, pure fluff, childhood friends to lovers lemme alone do not perceive me yk the drill by now, lil self indulgent fic cus i love childhood friends to lovers and puppy crushes, polar opposite’s trope, this reeks of my oc x canon katsu ship sooooo shh shh do not perceive.
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the first person who realizes katsuki has a crush on you is his mom because when she comes to pick him up one day from kindergarten he suddenly mentions you. it’s an innocent little interaction he had with you that mitsuki doesn’t think much about at first, simply surprised her son managed to befriend someone outside of his little group of friends until he starts mentioning you more and more.
soon you’re the only thing he talks about and katsuki even starts begging her to have you come over to play. mitsuki is extremely curious to know what kind of person you are to have been able to enchant her son the way you have, she says it’s fine as long as your parents agree.
you’re a sweet little thing, almost the complete opposite of her little devil’s spawn. you’re polite and a little shy when you ask “ is it okay if i come to play at katsu’s house, please miss katsuki’s mom ?” and how could she say no to you ? she pulls at your cheek lovingly and her son almost snarls at her.
“no touchin’ !” he snarks, pulling you against him like you were his teddy bear.
mitsuki was the first to realize her son had a crush on you when you were always around. when he found something cool during a class trip you were there and whenever he was upset it was always because you had argued about something irrelevant that seemed so much bigger in the eyes of a child.
she realized because katsuki had, and in some ways, will always be rowdy. he’s rough and temperamental and moody—basically, he can be quite the brat. (she wonders where he gets that from a lot) but he’s different with you.
he’ll always be a little rough around the edges but it’s the thought that counts. he drags you around a little too hard but it's to show you something he knows you'd like and you repay him by being patient with him and letting him drag you around to his hearts content. he let’s you use the crayons he’d just denied another classmate seconds ago and when it’s really early in the morning and you’re still sleepy unlike your more energetic friend, he waits for you. sitting with you in the reading corner quietly commenting on a little bit of everything in the book you’re sharing until you’re awake enough to start the day because katsuki wanted you to be together through anything no matter what, starting the day without you was simply unimaginable.
you offer him your kindness and he repays you with his loyalty. acting like your guard dog, protecting you from everything and everyone he considers a threat to you. he goes a bit overboard but it’s the thought that counts and he’s definitely got the right intentions.
“ i’m g’nna marry yn when i grow up !” katsuki proclaims from the backseat of the car after mitsuki had come to pick him up. she looks at him through the rear view mirror only to see he’s not even looking at her, looking out the window somewhat longingly, watching as his school fades away from his sight, further and further and further away from you. she smiles to herself.
“yeah ?” she asks “yeah !” he responds proudly, crossing his arms “ i asked yn if she wanted to be my wife an’ she said yeah, so we’re gettin’ married !”
“huh. how’d you propose ? you don’t have a ring.” she jests.
katsuki responds immediately and exclaims he does have one, shuffling around to reach for something in his pocket. he pulls out a plastic ring pop holder, the candy on top is missing and mitsuki can imagine what happened to it.
“gave her one of these !”
“so that’s why you had me buy those from the store last time,” she hums. “ you ate it, though.”
katsuki tries to roll his eyes but just ends up looking up and to the side, mitsuki recognizes it as him trying to mimic what she does a lot and she snorts.
“well duh, we both did ! ‘f i kept it in my pocket it woulda gotten gross !” he defends. mitsuki simply responds with a hum, smile on her face growing larger as she hears her son happily chatting about the rest of his day with you.
she knows her katsuki is hard to handle. extremely so. but when she sees the way you both interact she can tell something is there. you don’t ‘handle’ him. you like being around him. you like playing and talking with him, she sees how happy you make him whenever you come over for playdates. he holds your hand when you get scared and you hug him tight and beam when you see him again after he’s gotten over a nasty cold.
she can tell you make her son happy and he does the same for you in the way children do with pinky promises and shy cheek kisses, kisses over tiny wounds and refusing to be separated whenever the rowdier one of you both gets his recess time taken away for being naughty.
mitsuki hopes this crush, this love you have for her son can grow along with you. she hopes you’ll stick around as katsuki grows up more and potentially more rowdy and rougher around the edges but even more enamored with you. and with the way her son is squirming around in his seat and tugging at his seatbelt, giddy about you accepting his ring pop proposal, she has a funny feeling you’ll be sticking around for a long time.
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zreamy · 10 months
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i'll love you forever
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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.
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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. 
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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.” 
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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. 
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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. 
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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.”
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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. 
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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.” 
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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? 
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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.
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“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. 
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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?” 
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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.”
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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
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© zreamy (2023), all rights reserved. do not repost, translate, or plagiarise my work. do let my know your thoughts !
permanent taglist: @asahicore
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flightyalrighty · 4 months
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FIRST | PREVIOUS | NEXT CH 1 PG 36
Infested will return on June 27th. --- Thank you to the following Ascended supporters: @chaogongoozles, @fiiresiidefrfr, @elizard4227, @grogar, Ezzoh, @susivoi, @calculuscacophony, Eros, @ivycorp, @summersdale @borrelia, @mizukiz, @sanicdetails, @combinegrunt-echo-1, Pica, @veeceear, @quackenburt, ItsmeMonarch, @memendoemori, @trans-girl-sonic, & savarsenic
Content Warnings | Store | Ko-Fi (Discord!) | Read On Comic Fury! DISCLAIMER: "Infested" is a horror comic ft. content not suitable for those under the age of 17.
A long-winded looking back on things below the cut:
The first few pages of Infested were uploaded to this blog on March 2nd, 2023 -- Over a whole year ago! I was so busy, too, that I completely missed its birthday (Sorry Infested). Looking even further back than that, the original story was was something I began writing on December 25th, 2022 (Merry Christmas).
It took two years to get to this point.
And hey, not to toot my own horn about it, but completing even one chapter of a webcomic is a big deal. Especially for me. My first webcomic, Fight/Flight, didn't get very far. I completed the prologue, started Chapter 1, and then had to drop it for a number of reasons (I didn't really agree with what baby-me had to say, politically, anymore).
This comic was born from a lot of intense feelings. The story, itself, too. Some good. Some bad.
I had been forced to move away from my hometown, and with that move, I lost the physical connection that I had to all of my friends. I lost the familiarity of a place I'd known for most of my life. I'm now stuck somewhere... Worse. It felt like a cage. Still does. Disconnected from the life I thought I would be living after college. I didn't have health insurance, either -- Got kicked off of it because of the move -- And as a result, I was off my antidepressants.
So there I was, at a pretty low point in my life. I miserable and lonely and every single day dragged on. And on. And on. And I felt so disappointed in myself. That disappointment became self-loathing, and it all kinda spiraled.
Have I mentioned that I'm a huge Sonic fan? I don't think I need to. I'd say it's pretty obvious. But for the sake of this story, I'll say it again: I'm a HUGE Sonic fan. I've been that way since 2003 with Sonic Heroes. The franchise has been in my life for over two decades. I had a monthly mail subscription to Archie's Sonic the Hedgehog. Sonic the Hedgehog was something that I truly loved more than any other piece of media. It brought me endless joy. Until I didn't.
I had dropped Sonic after Lost World was... Itself. I had already felt pretty irritated with the Meta Era, and Lost World was the final straw. The last bit of hope that the series could recover was snuffed out when Forces was released. It was over. I was done. If Sonic was truly that embarrassed by itself, if they had truly lost touch with what made the series so great, then I wouldn't waste my time any longer. I was so sure that I had to just... Grieve and move on. My beloved childhood game series was dead. Long live the king or whatever. I'd just bitterly read IDW Sonic and think about what could've been. I was lucky to have that comic, at least. Archie had been canceled, too, after all. I was lucky to have my scraps.
Then Sonic Frontiers came out. And it changed everything.
And my god, it was everything. It was everything to me. Flaws be damned, it was everything. To. Me. The spectacle. The serious tone. The vastly improved writing. Kellin Fucking Quinn. It was FUN! It was actually FUN to PLAY. He was back. I was back. Sonic pulled me by my hand out of the ocean of misery I'd fallen into, and he looked me in my eye and he said;
"Hey. You're gonna be alright."
Metaphorically speaking. Sonic The Hedgehog didn't actually literally speak to me -- And sure, okay, maybe it's a little dramatic to describe a game as this great Depression Annihilator but I'm dead serious when I say that, for that time, before I was able to get back on my meds, I was self-medicating with Sonic.
Sonic was all I was thinking about. I reread the Unleashed arc in Archie Sonic, which got me sorta realizing something, and which led to my post where I said something along the lines of "Sonic would hide a zombie bite."
Archie Sonic would, at least. Because he basically did do that in the Unleashed arc of that comic. He let that problem fester until it became an even bigger problem because, ironically, he didn't want to be a problem.
So one thing led to another. I thought more about Sonic becoming a zombie. Bada-bing, bada-boom, Infested was born.
I didn't expect it to get the attention that it did. I felt lucky when the first page I drew Rouge on (Page 6 I think?) blew up. The right people saw it at the right time. I'm extremely grateful for that.
I'm extremely grateful for all of you.
So yeah, one chapter. Woo! Here's to many more.
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nevernonline · 21 days
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✧.* heartbreak girl; csc one shot.
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synopsis: Seungcheol struggles with his feelings for his best friend, y/n, who is caught in a complicated relationship. As he watches her suffer from heartbreak, he finds it increasingly difficult to conceal his love for her.
paring: seungcheol x fem! reader. 
genre:friends2lovers
warning/s:mentions of substances (alcohol) some minor sexy stuff, but not much really.
word count: 8.6k
content: . non-idol idolings, big brother Joshua. asshole boyfriends yk. Cheol is painfully in love.
note: non edited prob weird typos, xo.
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Seungcheol stood outside the bustling café, the familiar sound of laughter and chatter spilling through the door like an intoxicating aroma. He had been meaning to meet his friends here for a while, but his heart wasn’t in it tonight. Instead, it felt heavy, aching at the thought of her—Y/n, his best friend and the girl who had unknowingly stolen his heart.
They had grown up together, their lives intertwined like the branches of the old oak tree that sat as the bridge between their childhood bedrooms. Seungcheol had always been protective of y/n, watching from the sidelines as she navigated the ups and downs of her life. But just recently, something had shifted between them, a current of unspoken words and emotions that neither dared to acknowledge.
He pushed open the door and made his way through the crowd, scanning the room until his eyes landed on her. Y/n sat at a corner table, her hair cascading over her shoulders, lost in conversation with another friend. But Seungcheol could see it in her eyes—the flicker of worry, the slight downturn of her lips. He knew her better than anyone, and lately, she had seemed off.
His heart raced as he approached the table, steeling himself for the inevitable conversation. “Hey, Soojin, Y/n.” he greeted, forcing a smile despite the turmoil brewing inside him.
“Seungcheol! You made it!” Y/n exclaimed, the warmth of her voice wrapping around him like a comfort blanket. But as her expression shifted to one of concern, he could see the cracks behind her cheerful facade.
“You okay?” he asked, unable to hide the worry in his own voice.
“Yeah, just... a lot going on,” she said, brushing it off. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
Seungcheol glanced at her friend, who seemed to sense the underlying tension and quickly excused herself. The moment of solitude felt charged, and Seungcheol knew they needed to talk.
“Listen, if something’s bothering you, you can tell me,” he urged, leaning forward. “I’m your friend, Bunny. I want to help.”
She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “It’s just... Alex,  dating has been, and it’s... complicated. I think he might be seeing someone else.”
Seungcheol remembered when Y/n first started dating her current partner, he was alright, nothing special compared to the girl who was standing in front of him. 
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past
When he first met y/n boyfriend she had just gotten back from college for the weekend as Seungcheol stepped onto her front lawn waiting inside patiently next to y/n’s brother Joshua, he was considering running down the sidewalk to her when a guy appeared out of the front seat to hug her mother. It was in a flash of a moment he knew this guy was her boyfriend. 
Seungcheol's heart sank, but he tried impossible hard to maintain a composed exterior. He forced a smile and greeted y/n with a wave as she approached, her boyfriend trailing beside her. Joshua nudged Seungcheol gently, giving him an encouraging nod.
"Hey, Seungcheol!" y/n called out, her voice filled with genuine warmth. "It's so good to see you!"
"Good to see you too, Bunny," Seungcheol replied, his voice steady. "How is school, my little scholar?"
"It’s been great, but I’ve missed home, especially your mom’s cooking," she said, glancing at her boyfriend. "Oh, Shit. I should introduce you! This is Alex."
Alex extended a hand towards Seungcheol. "Nice to meet you, man."
"Nice to meet you too," Seungcheol said, shaking his hand firmly. He noticed how Alex's grip was strong but not overbearing, a sign of confidence and respect.
The four of them stood there for a moment, the air filled with unspoken words. Joshua, sensing the tension, quickly suggested, "Why don't we all head inside? Mom made us some lemonade. Feel free to spike it yourself."
Of course they all agreed, and as they walked towards the house, Seungcheol couldn't help but steal a glance at y/n. She seemed happy, and that was what mattered most to him, even if it meant watching from the sidelines.
Inside, the house was filled with the comforting aroma of freshly squeezed lemon, probably just a room spray her mom thought would make her lemonade pop more, which helped make Cheol smile even more. y/n's mother greeted them with a warm smile, her eyes twinkling with joy at having her two kids home. The group settled into the cozy living room, the atmosphere gradually easing into one of laughter and shared stories.
Seungcheol listened intently, contributing when he could, but mostly observing the dynamics between y/n and Alex. He noticed the small gestures of affection, the way they seemed to understand each other with just a glance. It was clear they shared a deep connection.
As the evening wore on, Seungcheol felt a mix of emotions. There was an undeniable pang of that little green monster creeping in, but also a sense of acceptance. He realized that y/n's happiness was the most important thing, and if Alex was the one who brought that to her, then he would do his best to support her wholeheartedly.
Later, after many sneaks to Joshua’s hidden liquor, too many slices of pizza, and card games, they all stood on the porch saying their goodbyes, y/n gave Seungcheol a tight hug. "It really is good to see you, Seungcheol. Don't be a stranger, okay?"
"I won't," he promised, his voice sincere. "Take care of yourself, y/n."
“You know I always do,” she gripped onto his sweatshirt sleeve, and flashed her award winning smile his way, “And if I find myself in need of a body guard I’ll be sure to call you.” 
With one last wave, Seungcheol watched as she and Alex walked down the driveway, hand in hand. He sighed softly, turning to Joshua who gave him a sympathetic look.
"Come on," Joshua said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Let's go get a beer, bro. My treat."
Seungcheol nodded, grateful for Joshua's friendship. As they walked away, he couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope. Life had a way of surprising you, and he knew that his story was far from over.
A few months had passed now and finally the  sun was shining brightly as their friend group gathered around the picnic table, laughter and chatter filling the air. Plates of food were being passed around, and the aroma of grilled meat wafted through the garden. Which sure, sounded a little gross, but it was just another sign of the changing of seasons, but not the changing of where his heart was gravitating. Y/N was in her element, flitting from one group to another, her energy infectious.
Seungcheol watched her from a distance, like he usually would, holding a fond smile on his lips. He couldn't help but marvel at how effortlessly she brought people together, how her presence seemed to light up even the most simple of places.
"Hey, earth to Idiot!" Y/N's voice broke through his daydream. She was standing in front of him, hands on her hips and a playful glint in her eyes. "Are you ready for our trip tomorrow?"
He grinned, nodding enthusiastically. "Of course. Wouldn't miss it for the world."
"I knew you’d never disappoint me!" she exclaimed, her smile widening. "It's going to be the best one yet, I can feel it. Something about the smell of the rain this year tells my heart the flowers will be perfect.”
Seungcheol chuckled, captivated by her excitement. "You and your weird as fuck sixth sense about flowers," he teased gently.
She punched him playfully. "Hey, don't underestimate my flower intuition. It's never wrong. It’s like how you always can for some reason tell how many people got a draft beer before you based on some fucked up freshness level you created. I mean we could always take a bet and see who everyone thinks is more insane.” 
As the evening wore on, they continued to chat and laugh, the anticipation for their trip growing with each passing moment. The backyard was now filled with the soft glow of fairy lights, casting a magical ambiance over the gathering. And Seuncheol was still sitting with Y/n listening to her talk on and on about her new weird interests. 
"Remember the first time we went on this trip?" Y/N asked, her gaze distant as she reminisced. "We got lost for hours, and you were so convinced that we were going to get mauled by a bear or a cougar or something?” 
“We didn’t have gas or cell service. I feel like it was a fair assumption to make.” Seungcheol smiled, feeling slightly embarrassed  remembering how he embarrassed himself around her even though he’s sure there were worse incidents. 
“But, we were at a reststop.” 
“But it was pouring rain, y/n. Come on.” 
“Fine, I’ll let you have it,” she ruffled her pretty hands through his hair “I still think you’re silly.” 
“You’re always so mean to me, when I do everything for you.” 
“It’s just so easy.” 
“By the way,” Seungcheol rubbed his slightly sweaty palms on his jeans, “Where’s Alex this weekend?” 
“Uh,” Y/n gave him a soft smile that he wasn’t so convinced was real, “With his parents in Antigua I think? Not sure, some weird beach vacation. Sounds boring.” 
Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, sensing the underlying tension in Y/n's tone. “Antigua, huh? Must be nice,” he replied, his voice deliberately casual, though he couldn't help the hint of envy creeping in. 
Y/n shrugged, her smile flickering momentarily. “Yeah, I guess. But honestly, I’d much rather be here, hanging out with you guys. This is way more fun. And don’t tell Josh, but I miss seeing him every day.”
“Seriously?” Seungcheol asked. “I mean, it’s a tropical paradise, and you’d choose me and your brother over that?”
“Absolutely,” she said, her gaze meeting him with sincerity. “Why would I want to be stuck on a beach when I could be here, laughing and just… being ourselves? This is way more my style.”
Her words warmed him, but a knot of unease tightened in his stomach. “So, no Alex for the weekend, then,” he said, trying to keep his tone light. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
Y/n bit her lip, a flicker of thought crossing her face. “Honestly, I don’t know. I guess it’s a bit of both? It’s nice to have some time to myself. But… you know how it is.” She trailed off, her eyes drifting away as if contemplating something deeper.
“Yeah, I do. Relationships can be complicated,” Seungcheol replied, his heart racing at the opportunity. “If you ever need to talk about anything, I’m here for you. You know that, right?”
She turned back to him, and her expression softened. “Thanks, Seungcheol. That means a lot.”
As the evening wore on, Seungcheol found himself lost in conversations with old friends and making new ones. The atmosphere was warm and inviting, a perfect reflection of Y/N's spirit.
Later, as the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, Seungcheol and Y/N found themselves talking through their open childhood bedroom windows. 
"Thanks for always being there, Seungcheol," Y/N said softly, her gaze fixed on picking at her nails..
He watched her, his heart swelling with affection. "Always, Y/N. That's what friends are for."
She leaned her head on her hand, and they stared at each other, both hoping that no matter where life took them, they would always have each other.
At that moment, Seungcheol realized that sometimes, the most beautiful places were the ones you were at with the people you cared about the most.
As Seungcheol sat in his dimly lit room, the flickering glow of the y/n’s Scooby-Doo night light shone in his window, transporting him back to the warmth of Y/n’s presence. He could picture her room perfectly: the walls adorned with posters of their favorite shows, remnants of their laughter still hanging in the air. It had always been a haven for her—a place where her dreams intertwined and her deepest secrets were shared.
Years passed quickly, and that cherished tradition of celebrating their friendship had drifted away like fall leaves caught in a breeze. Life took them in separate directions, and despite the countless apologies Y/n sent his way, Seungcheol could never quite shake the feeling of loss. He always believed that she knew how much those moments meant to him; her absence felt like a missing piece of his heart that was waiting to be filled.
While he tried to move on, dating a variety of girls who were kind and entertaining, none of them were Y/n. He often found himself comparing their laughter to hers, their quirks to the little things he cherished about her. It felt like an act of treason against the relationships he pursued, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop the old feelings from creeping back into his heart.
As he reflected on it all, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Why couldn't he just let go? It was foolish to cling to a childhood crush on your best friend's little sister that seemed to grow more distant by the day. But deep down, he sensed that what he felt for Y/n was something more profound than a simple infatuation. She was his first crush, someone he confided in, and the keeper of so many memories that covered his soul with nostalgia and warmth.
It was during one of those restless nights, when the weight of her absence pressed heavily on his chest, that he made a decision. Seungcheol had to  reach out to Y/n. No more waiting for the right moment or hoping for a chance meeting. He needed to tell her how he felt, how much he still cared, and how he longed for the connection they once shared.
Building up his courage the moment turned into an eternity as he waited, and just as doubt began to creep in, his phone buzzed, it was her calling him as if he had manifested catching up with her. 
Seungcheol's heart raced as he saw Y/n's name flash across the screen. Just the sight of it sent a jolt of anxiety through him, he pushed it down and tried to take it as a reminder of all the times they had spent together, laughing until their sides hurt or sharing secrets late into the night, almost like excitement. He hesitated for a moment, his thumb hovering over the accept button, uncertainty warring with excitement. 
But before he could overthink it any longer, he pressed "accept" and set his phone to the speaker. “Y/n?”
“Cheol!” Her voice was bright, and it ignited something deep within him—an undeniable longing. “I can’t believe I finally caught you. I’ve missed you so much, sorry for the phone tag, I have been so fucking busy. 
“I’ve missed you too,” he replied, his voice steadier than he felt. “It’s been way too long. I was just thinking about texting you when you called.”
“I feel bad for not making it home to see you lately,” she admitted, a hint of regret in her tone. “But.. uh, I’d love to fix that. How about we get together this weekend, like we used to? Maybe invite Soojin? Joshua?” 
“Let’s do it.” A smile spread across his face. “We can go to that bar we used to sneak into and catch a show legally now?” 
“Sounds perfect. Do me a favor?” she said, genuine enthusiasm shining through her words.
“Yes?” he waiting on the other end of the line hearing her giggling slightly to herself. 
“Wear that old Sonic Youth t-shirt you have?” 
“Why would I wear that?” 
“Not sure. I just like that t-shirt. Please?” 
Seungcheol’s heart swelled at the thought of being with her again, but he also felt the weight of unresolved feelings pressing on him. They’d both changed, but would the bond they shared still resonate the same way? Would she see him as just her brother’s friend or as something more?
As they continued to chat, Seungcheol tried to gauge her tone, the way she spoke about her life, the little nuances that indicated where she stood. Y/n spoke about college, her friends, and of course Alex.Her enthusiasm was infectious. But every laugh pulled him further back into the past, to the innocent moments when everything had felt so uncomplicated.
“Hey, Y/n,” he ventured, his heart beating a little faster as he gathered his thoughts. “I’ve been meaning to ask… How are you handling everything? I know things have changed for both of us.”
Y/n paused, and he could almost hear her brain processing the question. “Honestly? It’s been a bit of a whirlwind. I’m still figuring things out, but having people around who care makes it easier.”
“Yeah, I feel that,” he said, wishing he could just lay bare his feelings, let his heart spill out the way they used to share their secrets. “You know, I’ve always been here if you need someone to talk to.”
Her voice softened, and he could sense the shift in the conversation. “I know, and I appreciate that, Cheol. You’ve always been there for me, just like… well, I cant think of something always there for something else, but you get it..”
They fell into a comfortable rhythm again, but as the call slowly wound down, Seungcheol felt a flicker of resolve.
As they said their goodbyes, he heard Y/n’s voice resonate with warmth, and for a moment, the distance between them felt almost non-existent. “See you this weekend, okay?” 
“Yeah, I’m looking forward to it,” Seungcheol replied, his heart racing at the endless possibilities that lay ahead. 
Closing his phone, he let out a deep breath, a smile breaking across his face. The connection he had yearned for was just around the corner, and as he lay back on his bed, he knew that this time, he wouldn’t hold back. 
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present:
His heart sank at the words, a wave of frustration washing over him. “You deserve so much better than that,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Don’t let anyone treat you like you’re not worth it. How do you know he’s cheating on you?
Y/n took a shaky breath, the anguish evident in her expression. “I’ve seen the signs—the late nights, the changing passwords, the way he ducks away when I try to talk about us.” She paused, her voice cracking slightly. “I just feel it deep inside, like this gnawing instinct that something isn’t right.”
Seungcheol felt his protectiveness swell within him. The thought of anyone treating her poorly made his blood boil. “Those signs aren’t just coincidence, Y/n. People shouldn’t make you second-guess yourself like that.”
She looked down, her fingers tracing the patterns on her jeans. “I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but the more I try to brush it aside, the more it eats away at me. I just wish I had the strength to confront him.” 
“You do have that strength,” he urged, leaning closer, wanting to make eye contact to convey just how serious he was. “You’re stronger than you think. No one should keep you in the dark or make you feel like you have to doubt yourself. But if you need my help or anyone elses you know you can ask us right? You don’t have to fight it alone. Is that why you’ve been avoiding us lately?” 
“Yeah and I’m sorry I’m embarrassed. But what if I’m wrong? What if I confront him and it turns out I’m just being paranoid?” A single tear slipped down her cheek, and she wiped it away in frustration, the vulnerability on display pulling sharply at Seungcheol’s heart.
“Y/n, you’re not paranoid; you’re being cautious. People should earn your trust, not break it. If he really cared about you, he’d be open and honest, not leave you guessing.” Seungcheol felt a surge of emotion, desperately wanting to help her see the truth. “You have every right to bring up your concerns. If he reacts poorly, that’s a huge huge fucking red flag.”
She nodded slowly, another tear escaping despite her efforts to contain them. “I just don’t want to lose more than what I already feel like I’ve lost.. I just don’t know what to do, I guess. I’m sorry I’m ruining our fun.”
At that moment, Seungcheol couldn’t help but reach out, gently cupping her chin with his fingers so she would look up at him. “You are never ruining our fun, by telling us how you feel. Remember, you’re the one who deserves to be valued, not just by him, but by everyone in your life, especially those who say they love you.”
Their eyes locked, and he felt a change in the air around them—a connection that transcended the conversation that was sinking like a stone. “You deserve love that lifts you up, that makes you feel secure. Not a relationship that makes you doubt your worth and changes your life poorly.”
“Cheol…” she started, but he could see the struggle in her eyes, the facade of strength crumbling as the truth sunk in. She was scared, scared of the possibilities, but perhaps also scared of how much this all mattered to her.
“I’ll be right here with you, no matter what happens,” he promised, his voice steady despite the tumultuous emotions swirling inside him. “We’ll figure this out together. You don’t have to face any of it alone.” 
Y/n's expression softened, and the tension in her shoulders eased just a little. “Thank you. It just helps to know someone cares I guess.” 
Seungcheol nodded, yearning to break through the last barriers between them. “I’ve always cared for you, Y/n. Always. And I’ll keep caring, no matter what.” Even as those words left his mouth, he felt a weight in his chest—he wanted her to see just how much more she meant to him than mere friendship, but the time for that would come later. Right now, she needed a friend in her corner, and he would be that friend, no matter what. “Should we have a drink now?” 
She smiled at him again, giving him a side hug. “Yes, maybe some shots too?” 
Seungcheol immediately got to his feet and winked as he bee-lined for the bar standing next to Joshua and Soojin, filling them in on his conversation with y/n. The three of them didn’t mention it the rest of the night, but just made sure to give her the best time dancing and forgetting about her shitty relationship issues before the alcohol settled in her system too much and Cheol had to carry her home. 
Joshua unlocked their front door and slid into the house quietly rushing in the three other party goers in hopes not to wake his mom up considering it was a work night. 
Y/n brother pulled her shoes off and rested them at the front door, basically begging Seungcheol to carry her up to her bedroom so he could go get Soojin some pajamas and change his sheets for her in his room which Cheol obliged being the most sober. 
As he was carrying his friend to bed she looked up at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “I know I’m drunk, but I don’t want to get my hopes up only to be disappointed again. I just... feel so lost.”
Seungcheol felt a pang of concern as he adjusted his grip on her, his heart aching at the vulnerability etched across Y/n's face. He knew the night had been a whirlwind—filled with laughter, dancing, and fleeting moments of joy—but now, as he carried her up the stairs, her honesty pierced through the haze of alcohol.
“Hey,” he said softly, trying to keep his voice steady and reassuring. “It’s okay to feel lost. You’ve been through a lot. But just remember, you have lots of people riding for you. 
Y/n blinked slowly, her features wavering as she processed his words. “I don’t want to burden you,” she admitted, almost whispering. “I don’t want you to be sad because of me.
Seungcheol paused just outside her bedroom door, carefully shifting her weight so she wasn't too uncomfortable. “You’re not a burden, Y/n. Friends support each other. That’s what we do.”
Her lips trembled slightly, and she looked down, tears pooling in her eyes. “I just... I wish I could see things clearly. I want to believe it’ll get better, but I’m scared it won’t.” 
He took a deep breath, choosing his buzzed words carefully. “It’s natural to feel scared. Change is intimidating, especially when it comes to relationships that have been so significant in your life. But that doesn’t mean you can’t start taking the steps to find what you really deserve. Like we talked about earlier. You’re worth that big true love, Y/n, even if you can’t see it just yet.”
Looking into her eyes, he noticed the flicker of hope battling against the weight of her sorrow. “You deserve to feel loved, celebrated and so fucking cherished, not just tolerated. And trust me,” he added, trying to inject a touch of warmth into his words, “the right person will come along, maybe they already have. You’re incredible.”
Y/n’s gaze held onto his, searching for truth in his words. “Do you really think so?” 
“Yes, loser,” he affirmed, nodding. “I’ve been singing your praises for years, remember I did write a letter to Harry Styles trying to get him to go out with you when he was still on X-Factor so until that person comes along, I’m right here.” He started moving again, gently pushing the door open with his knee.
As he stepped inside, he carefully laid her onto the bed, her comfort a priority in the quiet space. “Just rest for now. Tomorrow is a new day. You don’t have to worry about anything tonight. Just let it go.”
She looked up at him, her expression softening as the corners of her mouth edged toward a small smile. “Thanks, CheolieI don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You’ll never have to find out,” he assured her, tucking the blanket around her. “You’re stuck with me now.” He grinned, feeling the lightness of the moment wash over them, dispelling some of the heavy emotions lingering in the air.
She laughed softly, a sound that melted some of the tension from his chest. “Okay, but just for tonight! Tomorrow, I’ll have to start figuring things out. And can you do me one more incredibly annoying awkward favor that we never have to speak of again?” 
“Deal,” he replied playfully. “Depending on how embarrassing it is?” 
“Can you help me put on my pajamas? Or at least unbutton my shirt for me, I’m so warm and too drunk to care right now.” 
Seungcheol’s eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly masked his shock with a teasing grin. “Wow, is y/n too drunk to get undressed herself, it’s bringing me back to when you had your senior party.”
Y/n shrugged, her cheeks slightly flushed from the alcohol and the sudden vulnerability of the moment. “I’m serious! I can’t get the buttons right now,” she grumbled, a laugh escaping her lips as she realized just how ridiculous the request was.
“Shut up, it’s fine.” he said, trying to maintain the playful spirit of the moment while also respecting her boundaries. “But you have to promise me you won’t regret this in the morning.”
“How could anyone regret that the night star football player and homecoming king four years running Choi Seungcheol took their clothes off?” she replied with a slight smirk. “Can we actually stop fucking around though and  focus on getting me comfy so I can pass out without feeling like I’m wearing a fucking straightjacket.”
“Didn’t know you thought so highly of me,” he smirked back, trying to suppress his nervousness. Carefully, he shifted to sit beside her on the edge of the bed, ensuring he kept the atmosphere light and respectful. “I’ll work my special magic.”
He helped her sit up and, taking a deep breath, gently began unbuttoning her shirt. With each button he opened, he focused on keeping his movements steady and casual,trying not to touch inappropriately whatsoever,  stealing glances at her face rather than her torso. “See, I’m not so bad at this, right? Even being out of practice.” he joked, trying to ease any tension in the air. 
Y/n chuckled softly, her laughter lightening the mood. “Yeah, you’re doing great. Just stop making it weird.”
“Me? Make it weird? Psh.” he teased back, his heart racing slightly as he continued, relieved that her demeanor was playful. As the last button came undone, he carefully helped her shrug the shirt off, revealing a soft bra top underneath. 
“You literally just confessed to not getting laid in a long time, weirdo. Too much information.” 
“God, shut up, I did not” he said, letting out a sigh of relief as he set the shirt aside. “Mission accomplished.. But it’s a good look, just so you know.”
“You’re just buttering me up to make me forget this moment, Cheol,” she replied, a mischievous glint in her eyes despite her slightly vulnerable state.
“Wouldn’t dream of it! This moment is going straight into the  archives as ‘That Time I Helped Y/n Get Ready for Bed,” he said, crossing his arms defiantly.
Y/n giggled, shaking her head. “You’re ridiculous. 
Seungcheol felt warmth radiate in his chest at her words. “And you’re worse,” he said genuinely, his smile softening. “Now get some rest, cutie. I’ll be right downstairs if you need anything else.” 
“You can stay here if you want? Joshua is sleeping on the couch because Soojin’s in his room.” 
“Oh, uh. I’ll be alright on the floor downstairs. You get some sleep okay?” 
“Goodnight, Cheolie,” she whispered, nearly missing him calling her an affectionate name, her eyes fluttering shut as the warmth of sleep began to envelop her.
“Goodnight, Bunny.” He watched her peaceful expression for a moment, then stood up from the edge of her bed and made his way to the door, feeling a strange mix of emotions. On one hand, he felt pride in being there for her, but a flicker of longing stirred inside him, reminding him of how much he truly fell in love with her.
As he stepped out into the hallway, he leaned against the wall, contemplating going back in there and comforting  her for the night but also how it could affect their friendship and the feelings that lingered just below the surface. Tonight wasn't just another night; it felt like a turning point. Seungcheol had no idea where it would ultimately lead, but for now, he was grateful to be her anchor, even in the midst of uncertainty.
The next morning rolled in like a thunder cloud for y/n, she remembered walking home, but not much after that. She sat up under her pink fuzzy blanket in nothing other than her bra and skirt she had on the night before, her hair smooshed up on the back of her head like a pancake. 
She couldn’t remember how she had gotten there but whoever took her upstairs left a glass of water on the nightstand and two tylenol. She smiled, grateful people have always looked out for her like this. Downing the two white pills and the entire glass of water she shot up and headed for the bathroom, walking in non- chalantly thinking nobody was behind the white door. As she turned the knob a voice came ringing in her ears. 
“Josh I told you- Oh,” Seungcheol was shirtless with nothing but his wet hair cascading down his face and his towel wrapped around his body parts.” Y/n sorry.. I was just uh.. Finished.” 
She slapped her hands over her eyes whispering a sorry and running back into her room, feeling a blush hit her cheeks. 
Y/n's heart raced as she slammed the bathroom door shut and ran down the hall slamming her bedroom door shut her back against it, her mind swirling with embarrassment. She could practically feel the heat radiating from her cheeks as she replayed the scene in her head. How had she not realized Seungcheol was right there? 
After taking a moment to collect herself, she peeked out through her fingers, her heart still pounding. “No, no, no. Why did I have to walk in like that?” she muttered under her breath, doing her best to calm the embarrassment bubbling up inside her. She could still picture Seungcheol’s surprised expression, 
With a deep breath, she reminded herself to take it easy. “You’re both adults.And your friends like it, it's fine.  Mistakes happen,” she whispered, trying to rationalize the embarrassment.
Y/n slowly shuffled back to her bed and flopped down face-first into her pillow, groaning. “Why is this my life?” she lamented silently, wanting to sink into the depths of her blankets and hide from the world altogether.
After a couple of minutes spent wallowing in her own pity, she finally sat up and took stock of the situation. She had to laugh at herself; if anyone could handle a little awkwardness, it was definitely Seungcheol.
With newfound resolve, she decided to brush off the incident. After all, she couldn’t stay cooped up in her room forever, and eventually, she would have to interact with him. 
Rubbing her eyes, she stood up, her body still feeling a bit wobbly from the residual effects of last night. She padded over to her wardrobe and found a comfy oversized sweatshirt and a pair of pajama shorts to throw on. Just as she was finishing zipping up the  sweatshirt, her door creaked open, and she heard Seungcheol’s voice. 
“Uh... hey, Y/n?” 
She froze, heart racing at the thought of confronting him after their embarrassing encounter. “Y-yeah?” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. 
“I just wanted to check if you were okay. I heard you might have had a bit too much fun last night,” he said, his tone laced with gentle teasing but lacking the usual bravado. 
Y/n felt her cheeks warm again, but she twisted the moment into playful sarcasm. “Yeah, I clearly have my life together. Who wouldn’t want to walk into a bathroom with a half-naked guy?” 
His laughter echoed, and she couldn’t help but smile despite herself. “Well, I wasn’t exactly expecting a guest, either.”
“So, uh, thanks for... you know, taking care of me last night.”
“Of course,” he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. “I’ll help you with whatever.” 
She nodded, feeling a warmth spread through her chest at his words. “Yeah, but still! I really appreciate it.” 
Seungcheol’s smile faded slightly, replaced with an earnest expression as he leaned against the doorframe. “Y/n,It’s not a big deal. I’ve been doing it for years, I don’t mind.” 
She bit her lip, feeling that familiar flutter in her stomach at the intensity of his gaze and the sincerity behind it. “For real, Cheol. Thanks. I mean it. Just accept the sincerity.” 
“Alright, alright,” he said, breaking the moment by giving her a grin, “Want to get some breakfast or something? I’ll whip us up something..” 
“That sounds great,” she agreed, “But, I actually have something I need to go do today. How about I see you later? A movie or something maybe?” 
“Yeah, you know where to find me.” 
“Of course.” 
If today was going to be the most awkward day of her life, fine. She could handle it. Now arming herself with coffee, she had the feeling it was going to turn out just fine.What started with a flustered memory could lead to deeper conversations, and maybe even something more. First she had to confront Alex about his infidelity and then she can go back to these thoughts. Still, she giggled to herself as she thought about it—this was definitely going to be a morning they’d both remember.
Y/n parked her car in front of Alex’s apartment complex, her whole drive here she made up fake conversations to have with him in her head some of her intrusive thoughts started to get to her as she imagined much more crazy ways of how to confront him, but she knew she’d cry. She knew how hard it would be for her no matter what his answer was, yes or no, but she had to do it. 
Somehow she knew either way that she may be grateful it gave her the courage to break up with him in general. 
Getting out of the car, Y/n felt a mix of determination and fear. The weight of unresolved emotions pressed down on her chest as her shoes tapped against the pavement. She took a moment to inhale deeply, trying to steal a bit of calm before walking through the threshold that would dictate the direction of her life. She climbed the few steps to Alex’s building and pressed the intercom buzzer.
After a few moments, a crackling voice came through. “Who is it?” 
“It’s Y/n,” she replied, her voice steadier than she felt.
“Y/n? Oh, hey babe.! Come on up!” The excitement in his tone gave her a strange mix of hope and dread. Would he be as cheerful when they talked about the mess that had unfolded? 
When she reached his door, she hesitated, heart racing. Did she really want to do this? But even as the question surfaced, she felt the guilt gnawing at her. She owed it to herself.
Gathering her courage, she knocked. After a moment, the door swung open, and Alex stood there, looking casually handsome in a simple tee and jeans, a wide smile on his face. “Hey baby, It’s so good to see you. I thought you were hanging with your brother this weekend?” 
“Hey,” she replied, forcing a smile, even as her stomach churned. “Can we talk?”
“Yeah of course. Come in,” he said, stepping aside to let her through. As she entered, a rush of familiarity enveloped her—his scent, the slight clutter that was reminiscent of their time together. It should have felt comforting, but instead, it ignited a sense of dread.
She followed him into the living room, where the remnants of his gaming session littered the floor. The sight pulled at her heartstrings—how many times had they shared moments in this space? But those memories felt crushed by the deceit that loomed over them now.
“Wanna drink something? I just made coffee.” he offered, heading toward the kitchen.
“No, I’m okay, thanks.” Y/n tucked her hair into the back of her sweatshirt, feeling uncharacteristically fidgety. “Alex, I really just need to talk.”
“What’s on your mind?” He settled onto the couch, beaming with an eagerness that pitted her stomach against her better instincts. 
She took a breath, the words sticking in her throat. “I... um, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.” 
“Yeah? About what?” His expression shifted to curiosity, and she suspected he had no inkling of the storm about to descend.
“About us, about everything that’s happened,” she started, trying to gauge his reaction. His smile faltered just a bit, and her heart sank. “I found out about the other girl.”
His demeanor changed instantly. The confident glimmer in his eyes vanished, replaced by confusion. “Y/n, I—”
“Let me finish,” she interrupted, her tone firmer than she anticipated. She crossed her arms, drawing strength from her resolve. “I don’t want to hear excuses. I just need to know if you even care at all about what this does to our relationship.”
“I do care! I didn’t mean for it to happen.” He looked defensive, yet Y/n couldn't muster sympathy at this moment. 
“Didn’t mean for what to happen? To hurt me? To also keep her a secret?” Her voice was steady, but her chest tightened as emotions swelled within. “How many times did you lie to me? How can I trust anything you say now?”
“Y/n, please. It was a mistake. I never wanted to hurt you,” he pleaded, his expression shifting from confusion to desperation.
“And yet, here we are!” she raised her voice,, feeling the anger rise, mixed with a sorrow that threatened to spill over. “I don’t know if you understand how this makes me feel. I didn’t deserve to be anything less than faithful.”
“Oh and your brothers friend is jus-” 
“Shut up for one goddamn second.” 
Alex opened his mouth in surprise, as if he was about to argue, but Y/n pressed on, the truth spilling out. “I’ve been trying to convince myself that we could make it work, that you’d change. But the more I think about it, the more I realize—it’s not just a mistake. It’s a choice you made. You don’t actually love me enough to just be with me.” 
“Y/n...” he started, but she cut him off again, her gaze unwavering.
“It made me realize I deserve better  than what you’ve given me. I need to take care of myself.” 
An overwhelming silence consumed the room. Alex’s face hardened as he processed her words, the reality of what was happening sinking in. 
“I just... I thought we had something special,” he muttered, hurt flickering in his eyes. 
“We did,” she whispered, a pang of regret cutting through her. “But that’s the thing, Alex. You fucking ruined  it.”
Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but she squared her shoulders. “We have to break up.” 
“Y/n, wait. I can change. I swear! Just give me another chance! I’ll do better!” His plea hung in the air, desperately. 
But she knew better now. “I don’t think I can forgive you for this. And I don’t think I want to try. I need to move on and find myself again.”
She turned to leave, heart racing in her chest. As she reached for the doorknob, Alex’s voice caught her once more. “I wish you’d let me explain...”
She paused but didn’t turn around. “There’s nothing left to say, Alex.” 
With a shaky breath, she stepped outside, the cool air hitting her like a wave of clarity. Y/n stood for a moment on the threshold, allowing herself to breathe freely for the first time in weeks. 
As she walked down the stairs and toward her car, the weight of the conversation pressed upon her, but in a different way. It was a weight lifted.
She took out her phone and texted Seungcheol. “IT'S OVER, lol. Can we still do that movie later? I could really use a friend.”
Seconds later, her phone buzzed with his response. “What’s over? Did you break up with that fucker? Thank god. I can’t wait to hear all about it.”
A smile broke through her earlier sorrow, and she felt the corners of her heart begin to heal just a little. She hadn’t expected this day to lead her in a new direction, but she was ready for whatever came next. One awkward day down, and the next chapter was waiting.
On her drive back y/n knew she shouldn’t be thinking about jumping into her relationship with Seuncheol now, but she also knew she wasted so much time with other jerks never giving him a chance, but it’s what she wanted she just had to figure out how to make it happen. 
She pulled into Seuncheol’s driveway, bag of snacks in hand. Shutting her car door with her backside, nearly skipping up to his front door where he stood waiting for her with open arms dressed in his pajamas. 
The sight of him, all cozy and relaxed, made her heart flutter. Seuncheol's smile was infectious, and she couldn’t help but return it as she stepped into his warm embrace. The delicious scent of something cooking wafted through the door behind him, complementing the warmth and comfort he radiated.
“Well, well, well, Miss. Bad Bitch,” he exclaimed, pulling away and taking her bag of snacks. “I hope you brought my favorites.”
“Shut up,” she laughed, her heart dancing at how effortlessly they fell into this easy banter. “How could I come empty-handed to thank my therapist?”
Seuncheol chuckled, his eyes twinkling. “Good point. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Together they sorted through the assortment of chips, candies, and cookies, playfully debating over which treats deserved a spot on their makeshift movie night platter. As they settled onto the couch, their bodies nearly touching, she found herself relaxing in a way she hadn’t in a long time. The earlier unease faded, replaced by a sense of belonging as she sank deeper next to him resting her head on his shoulder swinging around a piece of licorice. 
“Alright, so what are we watching?” he asked, remote in hand. 
She bit her lip thoughtfully, her heart racing at the idea of sharing this moment with him. “How about something fun? A rom-com?” 
“Only if you promise to laugh at all the cheesy parts,” he teased, nudging her playfully.
“How about a bet that whoever cries has to jump in your pool… naked,” she shot back with a smile, feeling a thrill in their playful exchange. The movie began, their laughter filling the space as they munched on snacks, but she felt the real chemistry sparking between them, the edges of her heart warming with every shared glance and gentle touch.
As the story unfolded on the screen, she caught herself stealing glances at him, his focus entirely on the film yet his presence enveloped her like a warm blanket. Somewhere between the jokes and the popcorn fights, the realization struck—this was the moment she had been waiting for, the feeling she had longed to explore. 
“Seuncheol,” she said softly, causing him to look over, pausing the movie. 
“Yeah?”
“Are you crying?” 
“Maybe.” 
“Wow. I win!” 
Seungcheol punched the air, getting up faster than he ever has, stripping off his hoodie and running out the patio door, y/n chasing behind him, knocking over the entire bowl of popcorn on her way out. 
As she turned the corner to go towards his pool he snatched her up, jumping in with her in his arms. 
The splash echoed through the night as the cool water enveloped them both. Seungcheol erupted in laughter, the sound bright and full of joy, while Y/N squealed in surprise, her heart racing from the sudden plunge. 
As they surfaced, water cascading off their faces, Y/N couldn't help but scold him playfully, “What the Fuck. You could have warned me!” Her hair clung to her face, and she was momentarily blinded, but the thrill of the moment overshadowed any annoyance.
Seungcheol flashed her a cheeky grin, droplets sparkling on his skin. “Where’s the fun in that?” he teased, his eyes mischievous, reflecting the moonlight. 
Y/N glared, though her heart was still light. “You’re such an asshole!” she laughed, splashing water back at him, her instincts taking over as they devolved into a playful water fight. He countered with playful throws of water, their laughter mingling in the cool night air—full of energy, warmth, and the promise of summer.
He was talking her through the water, pinning her against his bare chest, they both paused, breathless and giggling their legs brushing against each other as she caught her breath. “You’re going to get us both in trouble,” she said softly, her voice playful yet carrying an underlying affection.
Seungcheol tilted his head, his smile softening. “Maybe. But this is way more fun than sitting inside watching movies.” He reached for her hair, swiping it out of her face, and for a moment, the world faded around them, he took a deep breath and kissed her, rummaging his hands under her sweatshirt which she reciprocated back, tugging at his waist band, dipping her cold fingers underneath to graze him slightly in an area they’ve never explored. 
“I’ve been thinking about us,” she confessed, the words tumbling out between their passionate kisses she couldn’t second-guess them. “I know this is sudden.. But, I.. uh.” she left a small whispering moan out of her lips, 
Kissing her deeply again smiling into it he just whispered, “But?” and then moved his lips to her neck as she wrapped her legs around his waist. 
She took a deep breath, her heart racing. “But I want to give us a chance. I want to see where this could go. I’ve never trusted anyone more than you.” 
A  huge smile broke over his face, as he pulled away for just a moment, as if her words were a key that unlocked something deep within him. “Really? You mean it?” 
“Yeah,” she nodded, her nerves calming under the intensity of his stare. “I do. I know it’s sudden, but I’ve been in love with you my whole life.” 
His eyes widened with surprise “You… you’ve loved me?” The words slipped from his lips, almost hesitant, as if he were afraid to break the spell of the moment. 
“Yes,” she replied, her voice steady yet soft, the weight of her confession hanging between them like a fragile thread. “I never thought we’d get to this point, but here we are.” 
He leaned in closer again, his forehead resting against hers, feeling the warmth radiating from her skin. “I never wanted to rush you,” he admitted. “I just didn’t know how to tell you how I felt. It’s like… you’ve always been the only person I’ve ever wanted.” 
Her heart swelled at his words, a sense of relief enveloping her like a warm blanket. “So what now?” she asked, her tone playful but laced with sincerity. 
“Now? We figure it out together.” His voice was low and confident, reassurance flooding her senses. He kissed her forehead gently before pulling back slightly, his hands still locking around her waist. “I want to take our time, get to know each other in this way. There’s no rush.” 
“Okay,” she murmured, the smile returning to her lips. She hadn’t realized how much she needed his patient approach, how refreshing it felt to not be hurried into something that had the potential to change everything. 
He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, his thumb caressing her cheek. “Just know that I’m all in.” 
Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them away, caught in the sincerity of his gaze. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear those words.” 
“And now that you have, what do you want to do first?” he asked, a twinkle of mischief sparking in his eyes. 
She grinned, feeling a rush of excitement flood through her. “How about we start with dinner? A proper date, just the two of us, to celebrate this… us. Build up even more sexual tension between us just to make it fun” 
“Dinner it is,” he said, already beaming. “And knowing you a bet to who would break first.” 
“My bets on you, Cheol. You’re a man.” 
“Sure, Bunny. But you did already have your hands down my pants, I’m thinking you’re already a failure. But, I’ll let it slide this time.” 
“Well I’ll try to control myself,” she replied, feeling a thrill of possibility unfolding before them. With newfound hope in her heart, she knew this was only the beginning.
858 notes · View notes
astonmartinii · 4 months
Text
careful what you wish for | alex albon social media au
pairing: alex albon x fem norris!reader
be careful what you wish for because sometimes childhood dreams come true (not the way you think though)
MASTERLIST | BROTHER'S BFF MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
yourusername
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liked by alexalbon, landonorris and 453,096 others
yourusername: it's sweet treat hour in the paddock
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user1: oh to be a person in the f1 paddock getting a sweet treat
user2: ummm actually i think i deserve one more than any of the guys on the grid
yourusername: probably true lol
georgerussell63: BLASPHEMY
landonorris: blood is CLEARLY not thicker than water 🤨
maxverstappen1: i can't believe this betrayal
charles_leclerc: puppy play date is OFF
yourusername: not you people proving them right within 0.5 seconds.
user3: y/n really is god's strongest soldier these fools must be so annoying
alexalbon: not me tho
landonorris: nuh uh 😐
alexalbon: sorry to burst your bubble lando but on the scale of least annoying (me) to most annoying (carlos) ... well marketing love carlando for a reason
landonorris: Y/N TELL HIM TO STOP BEING MEAN TO ME
yourusername: i'm not your mum, defend yourself
landonorris: ???
carlossainz55: THERE IS NO WAY I'M THE MOST ANNOYING ON THE GRID? Y/N TELL HIM THAT
yourusername: keep your car away from oscar and maybe
oscarpiastri: thank you grid mum 🫶🏻
carlossainz55: grid mum clearly showing favourites 🤨 does my sleepovers at the norris household mean anything?
yourusername: your old ass does not need a grid mum be fucking for real
carlossainz55: GASP!
alexalbon: nevermind what ever the fuck that was... the sweet treats slapped, thank you very much
yourusername: see this is why you're my favourite
oscarpiastri: i am right here
logansargent: :(((((
yourusername: NOOO MY LITTLE DUCKLINGS I LOVE YOU
user4: the way y/n has taken to oscar and logan makes my heart so warm
user5: her missing a lot of the start of the 2023 season and logan saying he started to feel less lonely when she was back coming to races as she went out of her way to support him
user6: her and alex going to miami a week early and acting more like parents than logan's actual parents
user7: it's like the older drivers are her grid kids but she only goes full mama bear for oscar and logan
user8: i'm gonna need this friends to lovers arc for alex and y/n
landonorris: do you people ever shut up
yourusername: LANDO ???
landonorris: sorry you have to die single sorry i don't make the rules
f1
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liked by yourusername, georgerussell63 and 1,405,788 others
tagged: alexalbon, landonorris & georgerussell63
f1: ALBON P5!!! now that's why lando had a poster of him in his childhood bedroom
view all comments
user9: i know lando forever regrets bringing that up all those years ago
user10: since we know how close alex and y/n are... i'd bet a lot of money y/n brings it up at any opportunity
yourusername: LET'S FUCKING GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
alexalbon: always knew you were my biggest fan
yourusername: it must be a norris thing
landonorris: alex the literal f1 account is making fun of me and you're SAYING SHE IS YOUR BIGGEST FAN
alexalbon: okay buddy lets calm it down
landonorris: don't put me in time out you're not my grid dad
alexalbon: am i not?
this comment has been deleted
alexalbon: i wouldn't claim you dummy
landonorris: i saw that ............. interesting
user11: the way this is the biggest hint for y/n x alex we've ever gotten but lando is not putting 2 and 2 together
yourusername: i've never had to try to keep a secret from lando i've always had to spell it out for him we're safe
landonorris: who is we?
user11: i see what you mean
georgerussell63: good lord, will i ever get out of the alex DRS train?
alexalbon: NEVER MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA
georgerussell63: have you already started drinking?
alexalbon: maybe, you know y/n can't mix drinks for shit
yourusername: P5 in a williams calls for a throwback college tequila punch
maxverstappen1: college tequila punch without me THE FAVOURITISM HAS GOTTEN OUT OF HAND
yourusername: you AND I QUOTE said "never talk to me again, i don't want to see you with any kind of receptacle that a person could drink out of, i never want to see a bottle of tequila ever again i feel like this is a hangover that will be passed on as some kind of generational curse"
maxverstappen1: now you say that i do recall saying something similar
user12: the way oscar and logan were so happy for alex, that's a grid dad for real
logansargent: we knew all of our drinks would been on his tab 🤞🏻
oscarpiastri: and he brought our kebabs!!
user13: how do i get this kind of treatment on my nights out?
logansargent: you have to third wheel alex and y/n when they're insufferably cute 👍🏻
this comment was deleted
user14: i'm on to yall
alexalbon
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tagged: yourusername, logansargent & oscarpiastri
alexalbon: post night out munch with my favourites
view all comments
user15: oh i can smell the arguments coming
yourusername: no one die i'm putting my phone on do not disturb
user16: so real
georgerussell63: HOW DARE YOU DISRESPECT THE SANCTITY OF OUR FRIENDSHIPS I THOUGHT WE WERE PLATONIC SOULMATES OUR LOVE FOR EACH OTHER SEWN INTO THE VERY FABRIC OF OUR BEING
alexalbon: well damn
georgerussell63: well damn? WELL DAMN? THAT'S IT YOU ARE NOT INVITED ON MY ANNUAL EASTER SUNDAY WALK AND BOUTIQUE EASTER EGG HUNT
landonorris: wow that'll really show him george
georgerussell63: LANDO WHAT THE FUCK WE NEED A UNITED FRONT
yourusername: babe this isn't trench warfare
georgerussell63: i thought you weren't getting involved this is a GALEX DISCUSSION
charles_leclerc: i thought this was a twitch quartet dicussion?
georgerussell63: maybe if you people MADE YOURSELF USEFUL IT WOULD BE
charles_leclerc: you know what i don't like your tone. i am very secure in my friendship with alex and am happy he has other thriving friendships especially with those who have recently joined the team and need the extra comfort
alexalbon: finally a normal person
user17: what is happening
user18: i think this is what the kids call losing your shit
user19: kinda feels like it's ended prematurely
alexalbon: he's at my door
user20: oh? should we like maybe be afraid?
yourusername: WHY AM I LIVING IN THE SHINING RIGHT NOW DOES HE HAVE AN AXE?
landonorris: hold on .... why are you there?
yourusername: george russell is at the door screaming for justice potentially wielding a weapon and that's what you took from that?
landonorris: ummm yes? there's something weird going on here
oscarpiastri: i'm also here
logansargent: me too (PLEASE SEND HELP)
user21: well wasn't that just ... delightful
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landonorris
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tagged: oscarpiastri & yourusername
landonorris: this whole grid kid thins has gotten out of control why is this kid being treated better than ME in my OWN HOME
view all comments
user24: how could lando be angry look how pookie oscar is
oscarpiastri: this is what i'm sayingggggg
yourusername: so fuck me i guess
user24: babe that's alex's job
yourusername: you right
user25: HOLD ON PEOPLE IS THAT Y/N/ALEX CRUMBS ???
user26: quick add it to the spreadsheet
alexalbon: there's a spreadsheet?
user26: we don't fuck around about your hypothetical relationship with y/n
alexalbon: that much is clear (send it my way asap)
yourusername: talking about favouritism in the norris household as if i have not lived with this for MY ENTIRE LIFE
landonorris: booooooo let me complain (did you or did you not get your weird kids from my career favouritism in the family)
yourusername: don't weaponise my children against me
landonorris: but they're so annoying oscar is eating all of the ROAST POTATOES THIS IS THE NORRIS FAMILY DINNER EVERYONE KNOWS THE ROASTIES ARE MINE
oscarpiastri: not anymore :P
landonorris: choke
oscarpiastri: don't make me call my dad
landonorris: call him up i'll beat his ass at this point I CAN SEE YOU TAKING ANOTHER POTATO
oscarpiastri: @alexalbon :(
alexalbon: keep my kid's name out your fucking mouth
landonorris: excuse me?
yourusername: ugh that's so hot
landonorris: EXCUSE ME?
user27: well .... add it to the spreadsheet?
landonorris: i'm so close to blocking all of you
yourusername: i thought you loved alex :(
landonorris: not that much
alexalbon: i see....
landonorris: NO I'M SORRY I TAKE IT BACK I LOVE YOU ALEX (YOU BETTER NOT BE SHAGGING MY SISTER HYPOTHETICAL OR NOT)
yourusername
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liked by alexalbon, charles_leclerc and 528,095 others
tagged: landonorris
yourusername: silverstone babyyyyyyyyyyyyyy i hope my home treats my boys right
view all comments
user28: i would give a kidney to be there for real
user29: you might have to the prices at that race are INSANE
landonorris: finally the home race which means you actually have to root for me
yourusername: ehhhhhhh
landonorris: girl i did not get much sleep last night wtf do you mean EHHHHH
yourusername: alex is a london boy
georgerussell63: once again fuck george i guess
yourusername: you didn't give me time !!!!
georgerussell63: were you actually going to say it?
yourusername: no ❤️
landonorris: right george i think it's time to unionise against y/n and alex
yourusername: the fuck do you (do we?) know about unionisation babe our family are the capitalist machine
user30: so like when are we getting the full albon pets meetup with sausage?
alexalbon: you always treat me right
yourusername: only the bestest for you
alexalbon: oh wow i'm blushing
yourusername: i can make you do a lot more than that
landonorris: do you mind?
yourusername: LET ME FLIRT IN PEACE GOD I CAN'T HAVE ANYTHING
alexalbon: yeah let y/n flirt with me in peace
logansargent: he's giggling and swinging his feet - we might even get a skip away
alexalbon: sue me
user31: alex and y/n being so tired of lando is so true
oscarpiastri: they match each other's freak and they really need to let that freak flag fly
logansargent: as they should i need to post some of the cute pictures of them my phone storage is suffering
landonorris: i'm throwing my phone out of the window
user32: confirmation? CONFIRMATION?
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alexalbon
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liked by georgerussell63, maxverstappen1 and 1,359,086 others
tagged: yourusername
alexalbon: bro my nurse is hot as fuck
view all comments
user32: bro nearly died and THIS IS WHAT HE POSTS
user33: is it insensitive for me to celebrate that they're together on a post just hours after he was in a massive crash
yourusername: probably but we'll take the compliment regardless
georgerussell63: let it be known i'm annoyed that this is how i found out about this relationship but i'm so glad you're okay and that you had your person with you as support
alexalbon: my person awwwww georgie you're such as softie, but thank you i'm all good
yourusername: i knew you loved me really georgie
georgerussell63: i'll come round to this i guess
yourusername: so no more morning visits with weapons
georgerussell63: THERE WERE NO WEAPONS
alexalbon: you called me many mean words and sometimes words are our biggest weapons
georgerussell63: shut the fuck up
yourusername: that's not very peace, love and kindness he nearly died russell change up your tone
user34: YESSSSSSSSS WE CAN FINALLY SEE THE TRUE POWER OF THE ALEX/Y/N SASS
user34: also obviously very happy alex is okay
user35: i fear we as a fandom do not have our priorities in check
landonorris: i wouldn't leave the hospital if i were you
alexalbon: is that a threat?
landonorris: very much so
maxverstappen1: he's serious i'm literally holding him back (it's not hard he's like a gremlin)
landonorris: A GREMLIN WHO HAS BEEN GIVEN WATER
yourusername: but i thought you loved alex? surely this is the least offensive option on the grid?
alexalbon: awwwwww babe
maxverstappen1: i'm really not sure thats the compliment you think...
landonorris: NO I DO LOVE ALEX BUT NOT LIKE THIS
yourusername: it could be worse, you're besties with alex - i could've gotten with carlos or pierre!
carlossainz55: excuse me?
pierregasly: what did i ever do to you?
yourusername: whores ❤️
landonorris: true they are whores
alexalbon: and i'm a big ol family man
landonorris: you keep that to yourself
oscarpiastri: get well soon dad
logansargent: we love you !!!
yourusername: don't think we've forgotten about you exposing our relationship....
alexalbon: but we love you anyway
yourusername
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liked by logansargent, landonorris and 783,209 others
tagged: alexalbon
yourusername: f1 cars are too dangerous actuallyyyyyyyyyyy you're all BANNED
view all comments
user36: finally some good fucking food
user37: i feel like we've been waiting for this relationship for so long i expect a wedding invitation at this point
alexalbon: yeah soz only the girl with the spreadsheet is getting an invite
user26: SCORE
alexalbon: well aren't we just the cutest couple in the world
yourusername: i fear we are
yourusername: and if any of you hoes try and comment any dumb shit like "us erasure" i'll break your toes
georgerussell63: oh! okay...
maxverstappen1: sure i guess so...
charles_leclerc: i'll let you have your moment for now
landonorris: i'm single but i want to be involved
user38: the lipstick print... i'm weak
user39: they already made me feel lonely before we got confirmation i think i might need to redownload hinge
landonorris: ugh i guess you guys are kind of cute
yourusername: of course we are one of us is a norris
landonorris: TRUE 💅🏻
alexalbon: ??? so you don't want to kill me anymore?
landonorris: no i guess not
landonorris: also max put a bell on my chain and my fingers are too fat to open the clasp so i can't sneak out to kick your ass
maxverstappen1: he really is an overgrown toddler
alexalbon: also your 5'2 ass is not beating mine
landonorris: i am NOT 5'2 i am 5'10 at the least
yourusername: girl you're maybe 5'5 and i WILL be getting my lick in if you fight alex - revenge for all those hair pulls all those years ago
landonorris: i'd say stop defending alex but you've always done that... i should've known
user40: so y/n really wasn't lying when she said she didn't have to hide anything from lando cause he doesn't pick up on anything 😭
landonorris: sorry i'm not actively looking for clues about my sister's sex life
alexalbon: bro i am in love with your sister lets frame this better
yourusername: hehehheheeehehhehe
landonorris
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liked by maxverstappen1, logansargent and 1,874,036 others
tagged: alexalbon & yourusername
landonorris: i guess i always did say that i wanted alex as a bigger brother, be careful for what you wish for kids
view all comments
user41: FINALLLLY
logansargent: you're telling me we've BEEN waiting
oscarpiastri: i kinda miss having a secret like what do i hold over lando now?
landonorris: DON'T THINK I HAVEN'T FORGOTTEN ABOUT THIS YOU WILL BE DEALT WITH PIASTRI
oscapiastri: okay babe
landonorris: you really take after your mum and it scares me
yourusername: you shouldn't have such good friends that i just can't help falling in love with so really this is your fault
landonorris: sure.... but you have a good point, i'm very happy it's alex of all people
yourusername: you've really come round fast since you realised that we'll pay for your stuff whenever we go out
landonorris: what can i say stuff tastes better when it's free
alexalbon: you literally make double what y/n and i make
landonorris: and i'm the younger sibling so you should TREAT ME BETTER
user42: yeah we all knew lando was the younger sibling but he's giving massive annoying baby brother vibes
alexalbon: and he wonders why we prefer oscar and logan
landonorris: i'm just going to pretend i didn't see that
alexalbon: but for real lando, thanks for being the most annoying norris and having such a lovely and cool (and smoking hot) sister - i appreciate it!
yourusername: i love you too babe
alexalbon: don't worry you'll get to drop the last name soon
yourusername: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
yourusername: i can't wait to be mrs. albon
landonorris: blocked.
user43: i can't believe we got the conclusion to the lando alex poster storyline
landonorris: it wasn't exactly the conclusion i thought it would be but i'll take it
yourusername: you love us really
alexalbon: really you were just manifesting this for like ten years
fin.
note: here's a wee post from brother's bff before the race because i need somehtign to distract me from my horrible NERVES - ENJOY!
2K notes · View notes
harrysfolklore · 4 months
Note
charles and his childhood best friend but he's secretly in love with her pretty please
childhood friends to lovers is my favorite trope 🥺 i hope you like this
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
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liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe and 102,625 others
yourinstagram perks of your best friend being a formula one driver: you get to travel to cool places to see him work
📸 by my love @boyfriendsusername
view all 3,087 comments
charlesfan1 the most beloved non wag is coming
charlesfan2 “📸by my love” charles was found fuming
↳ charlesfan3 no bc he refuses to admit he’s in love with her (we all know it)
lilymhe i can’t wait to see you 💗 ♥︎ by author
charlesfan3 is her boyfriend going to the gp?? bc is he is we’re getting pissed off charles again lol
↳ charlesfan2 brazil gp flashbacks 😭
landonorris Don’t forget about me and come say hi ♥︎ by author
↳ yourinstagram will do landoeeee 🫡
↳ landofan1 love this duo
charlesfan4 why does she have to take her boyfriend? 😫 actually can she break up with him and just get with charles ?
↳ charlesfan1 you guys are so disrespectful sometimes, they’ve been best friends since forever you shouldn’t be projecting a relationship between them when there isn’t
boyfriendsusername 😍😍 ♥︎ by author
charles_leclerc About time, I miss you a lot ❤️
↳ charlesfan2 MARRY HER
↳ yourinstagram same hereeeee
↳ charlesfan3 she replied to charles’ comment but not to her boyfriend’s. see? she’s in love with him
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liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe and 114,824 others
yourinstagram cooking breakfast because running over my ex with a truck is not the right thing to do
view all 4,033 comments
charlesfan1 PAUSE. SHE BROKE UP WITH THAT DUDE??
charlesfan2 okay sucks for her but i bet charles is jumping up and down 😭
francisca.cgomes It’s his loss 💗 Ilysm ♥︎ by author
↳ charlesfan1 she’s so loved along the wags she just needs to become a wag herself
carlossainz55 Sending you a big hug, nena ♥︎ by author
↳ carlosfan1 carlos what are you doing here charles would have your head if you ever try something with her
charlesfan3 ITS TIME FOR YN AND CHARLESSSSS LOVE STORY
charlesfan4 it’s kinda insensitive that you guys celebrate that she broke up with her boyfriend and the comments about how she should get with charles… she’s a human being who just had a breakup and charles is literally her best friend and nothing more
charles_leclerc I don’t think it’s a wrong thing to do. Actually, I can run over him with my Ferrari if you want, I know a thing or two about driving cars at a really fast speed 🤷 ♥︎ by author
↳ charlesfan1 CHARLES WTF 😭
↳ charlesfan2 HE HAS NO CHILL
↳ charlesfan3 we knew he always hated him
↳ yourinstagram 😂😂 love you, charlie
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liked by yourinstagram, pierregasly and 1,002,367 others
charles_leclerc When your best friend is obssesed with all things aesthetic
view all 15,044 comments
charlesfan1 LOVE OF MY LIFE
charlesfan2 he’s really the hottest man alive
landonorris Can she be my best friend too?
↳ charles_leclerc No
↳ charlesfan1 😭😭😭
leclerc_pascale ❤️
charlesfan3 he looks so boyfriend so i think he should be yn’s boyfriend
yourinstagram you look cute through my lens 🥲
↳ charles_leclerc I always look cute what do you mean
↳ charlesfan1 stop flirting in front of us
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liked by charlesfan1, charlesfan2 and 34,836 others
f1gossip Charles Leclerc and YN out in Monaco tonight
view all 2,088 comments
charlesfan1 BOYFRIEND AND GIRLFRIEND
charlesfan2 they’re both so pretty. they would make the hottest couple on the grid
charlesfan3 why don’t they just get together ffs 😭
↳ charlesfan1 streets say (and ny street i mean people from monaco) that charles has been smitten over her since they were kids but she always dated other guys
↳ charlesfan2 this must be true like we’ve seen it
charlesfan4 something in the air is shifting people maybe they’re finally confessing that they’re in love with each other lol
↳ charlesfan1 LETTUCE PRAY
charlesfan5 why is this comment section full of weirdos they’re FRIENDS
↳ charlesfan2 stfuuuu
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liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 120,725 others
yourinstagram back on my tifosi era ❤️
view all 5,033 comments
charlesfan1 YEEEEES
charlesfan2 imagine being charles’ best friend and traveling with him for races
↳ charlesfan1 babe that’s not his best friend that’s the love of his life
lilymhe IT WAS SO GOOD TO FINALLY SEE YOU ♥︎ by author
↳ yourinstagram i literally LOVE you 🤍
↳ charlesfan1 just become a wag already
charlesfan3 see charles was all smiles today because her (ex)boyfriend no longer tags along
landonorris When will the two of you confess to each other
↳ landofan1 LANDO😳
↳ charlesfan1 WTF IS HE CALLING HIM OUT
↳ yourinstagram you’re so weird i never know what you’re talking about
↳ charlesfan2 of course yn is playing dumb
↳ charles_leclerc ???
↳ charlesfan3 PLEASE 😭
charles_leclerc I look weird in that pic :(
↳ yourinstagram you look cuuuute
↳ charlesfan2 KISS KISS
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liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 250,388 others
yourinstagram i’ve known and loved this one since he was this little. growing up, we talked about what he would become countless of times, and in every single conversation i told him that he was going to achieve every single one of his dreams. today he drives the monaco circuit for the 6th time, and i know this year will be his year and monaco will finally love him back 🏆
love you beyond words @charles_leclerc ❤️
view all 10,187 comments
charlesfan1 AWEEEE
charlesfan2 THIS IS ADORABLE I CANT
leclerc_pascale ❤️❤️❤️❤️
↳ yourinstagram tysm for the picture 🥺
charlesfan3 JUST GET MARRIED ALREADY
landonorris Little Charles Leclerc
scuderiaferarri FORZA CHARLES ! 👏
charlesfan4 CANT YALL SEE THEYRE MEANT TO BE ???
↳ charlesfan1 the thing is we all can see it but they just can’t
charlesfan5 seriously if this ain’t love then what is
f1gossip Charles and YN’s romantic relationship will be confirmed any minute now
↳ charlesfan2 WHAT DO YOU KNOW
↳ charlesfan3 SPILL THE DEETS
charles_leclerc Thank you for being my biggest supporter and never leaving my side. I love you so much 🤍 ♥︎ by author
↳ charlesfan1 STFU STFU
↳ charlesfan2 YN WAKE UP
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liked by yourinstagram, oscarpiastri and 3,436,137 others
charles_leclerc BEST DAY EVER ❤️❤️❤️
Thank you for everything, I love you all ❤️🤍❤️🤍
view all 43,826 comments
charlesfan1 PRINCE OF MONACO DID IT
schecoperez Bravo Charles! 👏
charlesfan2 IM STILL CRYING
oscarpiastri Congrats bro 👊
pierregasly Bravo Champ!! Trop content pour toi!! ❤️
georgerussell63 Congrats mate !!
charlesfan3 HE DID IT FINALLY
charlesfan4 IVE BEEN CRYING FOR HOURS NOW
scuderiaferrari Bravo Charles !! So proud ❤️
yourinstagram im so proud of you, words are not enough. this was your dream and you achieve it, i love you so much
↳ charlesfan1 AHHHHH
↳ charlesfan2 ADDRESS THE RUMORS WE LITERALLY SAW YOU KISSING
↳ charlesfan3 JUST GET MARRIED
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liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe and 376,956 others
yourinstagram when we were 15 i told him that i would be his girlfriend the day he won the monaco grand prix. i guess it's time 🤍
view all 15,875 comments
charlesfan1 AHHHHHH
charlesfan2 JSDJOEHYSIJON I CANT BELIEVE THIS
francisca.cgomes 🥹🥹🥹🥹
charlesfan3 OMFG HOW IS THIS REAL
arthur_leclerc Finally ♥︎ by author
↳ charlesfan1 ARTHUR 😭😭😭😭
↳ charlesfan2 even their families were rooting for them I CANT
scuderiaferrari ❤️
charlesfan4 WE WERE RIGHT ALL ALONG
charlesfan5 THIS HAS BEEN THE MOST PERFECT WEEKEND EVER
carlossainz55 👏👏👏
charlesfan6 they were always meant to be but they were too stubborn to see it
landonorris I LOVE LOVE ❤️
↳ landofan1 PLEASEEEEE
charlesfan7 they have been in love for YEARS i cannot
charlesfan8 THIS MOMENT WAS LITERALLY PERFECT
charles_leclerc I’ve waited my whole life for this moment 🤍
↳ charlesfan1 IM CRYING AGAIN
↳ charlesfan2 CHARLIE DONT DO THIS
↳ charlesfan3 they’re so invisible string coded
↳ charlesfan4 MY FAVORITE LOVE STORY EVER
↳ yourinstagram 🥺🥺❤️
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liked by yourinstagram, landonorris and 3,574,037 others
charles_leclerc Lucky I’m in love with my best friend ❤️
view all 44,399 comments
charlesfan1 AND IM CRYING AGAIN
charlesfan2 THIS IS PERFECT
pierregasly Adorable 🙌
charlesfan3 HANG THIS PICTURE IN THE LOUVRE
charlesfan4 SOBBING SO BADLY RN
instagram 🥺
scuderiaferrari ❤️
charlesfan5 every single soul was rooting for this relationship fr
charlesfan6 I LOVE THEM SM
charlesfan7 childhood friends to lovers 🥹
yourinstagram i love you so much 💗💗
↳ charlesfan1 took you decades to find out but it’s okay girl
↳ charlesfan2 i can’t get enough of this relationship
↳ charlesfan3 YOU FINALLY REALIZED
3K notes · View notes
sobfultoast · 6 months
Text
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•~°◇ Just the Little Human Things ◇°~•
Prompt: Humans and demons are different, no duh. There are some things that we do naturally that shocked and freak out the brothers. Here are some random few (each linked to a specific brother, like 1 means Lucifer, etc).
Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor.
• ~ ° ◇ ° ~ •
1. Cracking bones.
You spent a long day dealing with your studies. Your fingers cramped. So you cracked them. Lucifer was appalled. He thought you just broke yourself. Lucifer goes straight to you and asks if you just broke your finger or something along those lines. After calming him down and just explaining that you were popping the air bubbles in your joints because they ached, he was more appalled.
Humans can get air bubbles in between their bones?! That's so weird. Demons can't crack their joints. If they make any cracking noise, they probably cracked their bones.
At least you're not hurt. That is all that matters to him.
2. Adrenaline.
Demons have instincts like humans, but they don't have adrenaline. They have the same amount of strength and power, no matter the situation. No amount of tension will give them a random boost in a fight. Humans do. It's called adrenaline (SHOCKING). Boosting our stamina, pain tolerance, reaction time, and strength. It's like a superpower! A superpower that Mamon was unaware of at the time.
You both were running from trouble, as normal. Even though your body was in its flight or fight, no amount of adrenaline will make you run as fast as the fastest demon in hell! So how was he supposed to know! It was until there was a dead end. The door was locked. Mammon was about to use some magic to open it because the angry demons were very close behind you guys. before he could, BAM! You ram right into it and smash it open
What. The. Hell??? Are you on steroids or something?!
Once you escape, Mammon has so many questions. He now thinks adrenaline is so cool.
3. Being social animals.
Demons aren't necessarily social creatures. Some will go millennias without talking to anything, and they don't go insane. It's just a lot of demons like socialising. Levi is not one of those demons, though. Levi will go some months without speaking to anyone, even some days without speaking to his brothers. He thought humans were the same. He didn't know that it could cause mental issues like insanity or depression.
Levi only found out because he was watching a horror anime, where a human character was isolated for months and went insane. He thought it was fiction, but then he asked you. As soon as yes leaves your mouth, he is in utter disbelief.
Now he feels bad whenever he has you holed up in his room. Don't you want to socialise? He wouldn't mind if you went to party with Asmo and Mammon... At least he'd try not to mind. Are you sure you're okay with just him? Yeah? ... He thinks he is okay with just you, too.
4. Humans on the moon?
When you came to devildom, even though Satan wasn't that close to you, he did research about humans out of curiosity. Satan learnt about human history, myths & legends, science (a.k.a human magic), medicine, and even decided to research human technology.
The only thing he didn't know was that humans went to the moon. When he was doing human history, he was doing ancient human history. Being a demon who was immortal, Satan classed anything from the last 100 years as morden to him. He was alive during it. He should know when it happens. But somehow, no one talked about the humans landing on the moon.
You wanted to know if demons had also gone to space, and he answered with, "No. Some of angels have... What do you mean also?" Humans, flightless and magicless fleshbags, have gone to the stars?!
5. Baby teeth falling out.
Asmodeus wanted to see childhood pictures of you! He was going on about how cute you were until he saw that in one of your photos that you were missing a tooth?! Asmo didn't know you were missing a tooth! He immediately tried to look in your mouth for that missing tooth, but there was a tooth there?! What?! Did you get some sort of tooth surgery?
Demons and angels don't have baby teeth. They are made not to naturally lose any of their teeth, and if they lose a tooth, they have to get a surjery to get it back. So, this concept is crazy to them.
Asmo was thankful it was natural. You made him panic!
6. Stretch marks.
Demons have rapid regeneration, so they don't get stretch marks. The scars just heal immediately as it isn't a deep wound to them.
Beelzebub had no idea humans could get them. He thought some demon attacked or tried to put a hex on you, but once you explained it to him, it blew his mind. Losing or gaining weight causes these marks? Humans are stretchy??? That's cute.
Beelzebub likes running his hand over the marks. It's fascinating to him.
7. Modern medicine.
Belphegor knew a lot about humans due to his human phase when he was an angel. There isn't anything that you do that surprises him. Belphie even knows humans went to the moon because he is an astrology girlie. But he is clueless about morden medicine.
Belphie lost interest in humans when he fell, obviously. He didn't want to interact with humans after his hatred for them developed. So he has no idea about morden human medicine.
Humans don't use frog eggs anymore? They were unsafe? Really? Belphie thought they worked. He did not know humans were just as unknowledgable as he was back then. Belphie learnt after you accidentally got a paper cut, and Belphie said he'd go get the plasters and leeches.
You had to tell him that the leaches were outdated by a few decades.
•~°◇ Have a kind day! ◇°~•
1K notes · View notes
thesummerpetrichor · 10 days
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𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓬𝓪𝓷 𝓫𝓮 𝓶𝔂 𝓭𝓪𝓭𝓭𝔂
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Father in law!Javier Peña x afab!fem!reader
Summary: Your soon to be husband leaves you at the alter, but you should have guessed since the practice seemed to run in the family. It’s hard to be upset however, when his father comes to repent for not only his own but his son’s wrong doings. Aka fiancé’s dad Javi fucking you in your wedding dress after his son ditches you at the altar.
Warnings: 18+ only minors DNI you will be blocked. Minimal editing, unspecified but thicc and legal age gap, infidelity, daddy kink, heavy breeding kink, insane dirty talk, toxic father son relationship, reader is delulu, praise kink, petnames, sex in front of a mirror, veil pulling??, a few spanks, creampie, Javi fucks you into the mattress, unprotected P in V [don’t do it!!]. Let me know if I missed anything 🫶.
Word count: 2.6k
A/N: Literally just porn without plot, lotsa fucking, I want father in law Javi. Minimally edited lmao I just banged this out Can’t wait for you to read it!! Hope you enjoy, nasties! Mwah!
Masterlist
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You rich and I'm wishin', um
You could be my mister, yum
Delicious to the maximum
Chew you up like bubble gum
You love me, he wants me
I think I want you too
Best day of your life- yeah, what a fucking joke. But what were you expecting? Ditching people at the altar seemed to run in the family. Okay, maybe that was a bit of a harsh assessment of the Peñas, especially Peña senior, who, despite all you had heard of him from your ex fiance, had always shown you kindness. 
The thing is, it becomes really fucking hard to be charitable to a family when their son humiliates you infront of the entirety of Texas. Leaves you high and dry on the steps of the biggest church in town in your great grandmother’s silk dress. It becomes even harder when you learn his mother had been in on it all along, sparing you not even a little apology, or a comforting embrace after her son's little getaway plan had been revealed. 
Instead of extending you a supporting hand, she ran away to make sure her baby boy was okay, and that this entire ordeal hadn’t taken a toll on his emotional and psychological well being. 
How thoughtful. 
Of course, you were the pathetic one– unable to look anyone in the eye, sobbing on your fathers shoulder till you couldn’t breathe any longer. So distraught and unwell even getting out of your wedding attire seemed impossible. It only made you feel even more pathetic. At some point you ended up curling up in your hotel bed, still in the “happiest day of your life” outfit, and pleading for some time alone from your friends and family to wallow in your own suffering. 
You would eat your feelings in the from of the apology chocolates the hotel had complimented for you, but you couldn’t manage to even do that without feeling like a total fucking looser. 
After all that had transpired, and after years of hearing nothing but sour things about your soon to be father in law, safe to say you were surprised to see him at your hotel room door at midnight as the ambassador the family seemingly sent to smooth things over. 
For it being only your second time meeting the man, this was far from the most opportune scenario. In fact, him showing up all sorrowful and apologetic for his shitty excuse of a son, in his navy blue suit and loose tie, made your already pathetic day all the more difficult to get through. 
Your whole relationship you had blamed every fault of your boyfriend on his absent, detached father. You’d heard plenty about the lack of childhood visits, quality time, and playing soccer that had plagued your partner’s life, and had found it quite easy and comforting to pile on every relationship problem you ever came across as the consequence of Javier Peña’s lack of responsibility and good parenting. 
What you didn’t expect, was to find that Javi Peña was a whole lot more normal and level headed than you anticipated. He was just a guy trying to make a good living and provide for his family. Sure, he was a little bit reserved, but he was only ever warm and sweet and even quite chatty with you. To be frank, you should have seen your boyfriend’s shitty behavior as a consequence of his insufferable mother from a mile away. God knew you weren’t expecting Peña Sr. to be the better of your two soon to be in laws. 
That being said, you would have never expected to be on your hands and knees, on what was supposed to be your marital bed, being pounded from behind by your ex soon to be father in-law. 
Because that's where you are now, eyes rolling to the back of your head thanks to the most intense pleasure you've ever felt. The drag of Javis cock against your walls has been building a steady heat in your belly, the stretch of him so perfect and delicious it has you pushing your hips back to meet his every thrust. 
Any other day a man like him wouldn’t have needed much to woo you– with his cut jaw, handsome features and those chocolate brown eyes you wished his son had inherited. Safe to say on a day like this one it took even less, just a few rubs on your back, a hand smoothing over your head and trailing down your waist, a few “pretty girls” and “poor things” and some fucking sympathy from someone from your boyfriends sorry family. 
Fucking pathetic. 
But Javier knows his son is pathetic, knows he is a good for nothing moron who doesn't even know what he was losing out on when he walked out on you.
“He’s a fuckin fool- look at this tight little pussy, squeezin’ me so fuckin good. Bet he didn’t fuck ya like this, huh baby? Didn’t make ya cum over and over, make ya scream… stupid fuckin boy..” Javier’s grip on your hips tightens on hearing your moan, and he curses under his breath when your pussy flutters around his cock. 
Your legs are threatening to give out under you, your knees tender from how long you've been leaning on them. Javier’s hand moves to grip the fabric of your veil, using it to pull your head back and make you face the mirror that's been teasing you all evening. “Look- Look at ya- fuckin cryin’ on my cock. ‘S the only reason ya’ shoulda’ be cryin’ in this pretty dress..” With drooping eyes you're faced with your own reflection– stains from your mascara running down your face now less thanks to the sorry of the afternoon and more thanks to the way Javi’s cock has been nudging your sweetspot. 
You watch your tits spill out of your beautiful silk dress, the fabric now disheveled and a far cry from the sophisticated, simplistic garment it once was. You can barely recognise it, but then again you can barely recognise your own reflection. “Look at that pretty little body- fuckin made for me.” 
“Yours-” you cut yourself off with a gasp, Javi’s hands squeeze your hips and your cheeks set ablaze at the way he looks at you when you catch it in the mirror. The whole sight is so debauched and depraved– you on your hands and knees for a man who could easily be mistaken for your father. But somehow it's even dirtier- the possibility of your ex finding out sends you into overdrive. 
The silk of your dress brushes against your hot skin, flipped lewdly up to reveal your bare ass, bunched at the waist, the straps drooping and threatening to fall. Javi pulls the zip down even further, watching as it hangs off your body, draped like fabric from a 15th century painting. 
Javi’s voice calls your attention back to the present moment, lewd words showing you he doesn't hold back the way his son does. “Gonna fill this tight little cunt up..” The stretch is so delicious between your legs, you feel the steady throb continue to tighten the coil inside you and you can’t help but moan. “Yeah, you want that? Want daddy to put a baby in you?” the thought makes you shiver, that name makes you shiver, has your cunt clenching around his cock. What an image- you, belly round with your father in laws child, well, your ex father in law. Unlike his son you were sure he would be the perfect husband, would bend you over ever surface in your picket fence house and fuck you just like he’s doing now. 
Deep, and hard and fast, just like you need it. Just like you've always needed it.. 
“Please daddy, want your babies, wanna be yours…” Your voice is so broken and wrecked you're afraid he can’t understand what you're even saying. To be honest you can’t be bothered much, it feels so good, his thick, hard cock feels so good pounding between your thighs there's little else you can keep your mind on. 
“Yeah? you like that sweetheart? we can play house..” you nod your head and his hand tightens its grip around your veil, exaggerating your movements, bending you to his will. “Wanna play house with daddy? can be my pretty little wife” you fist the sheets, pushing back against him with his every thrust. You do want that, you’ve always wanted that. And what better person to do it with. Sure, his wife always complained about how he was never around, but that's looking a lot more like a her problem– especially with the way Javi’s tip continues to kiss your sweet spot. 
“Yes daddy, please..”  
Javier lets go of your veil, and pushes his palm between your shoulder blades, forcing you down into the mattress till your cheek is pressed against the warm, fluffy duvet. One hand keeps you there, the other lands a quick spank to your ass and kneads at the flesh with a newfound desperation. “Won't be able to even say his goddamn name after I'm done with ya. Stupid boy doesnt know how to treat a pretty thing like you– so sweet, so gorgeous, so fucking smart. Too fucking good for him.” 
With your lips parted and breathing heavy you drool onto the covers, letting Javi pound you into the mattress and overshadow every other thought that dared cross your head earlier in the day. If his plan is to make you forget about anything that isn't him, it sure is working. You don't think you’d even want to sound out his incompetent son’s name after he’s done with you. 
As if he can read your mind his voice calls from behind you. “Want ya to be drippin with me.” the wet schick of his cock fucking into your tight, wet, hole reminds you of just how needy you are for him, and the prospect of having him dripping out of you– down your thighs, between your legs, leaving you all messy for him to come back and do it all over again, drives you absolutely insane. 
“He’s fuckin useless, just like his ma. But look at you, so fucking tight ‘round me, making all those pretty sounds, she fuckin’ wishes she was you.” His words have your cunt squeezing around his cock, and a lewd, pornographic moan slipping past your lips. “My girl’s gonna be the perfect lil’ mamma, aren’t ya, so fuckin’ pretty.” You would certainly like that- in fact you’re almost surprised with how appealing it sounds to you. 
“Gonna be perfect for you daddy, only for you.” your dress rides up even further, the front slipping further down. 
“Thats my fucking girl.” That growl of his sends shivers down your spine– possessive, and confident and dripping like honey from his lips. It was almost like it could send you over the edge by itself. The lewd creaking of the bedframe fills the room, the sound of skin on skin driving you wild. The way he handles you– firm and deft but gentle and passionate, it's nothing like his son. 
He’s nothing like his son. 
“Yeah, bet it feels good don’t it, bein’ fucked by a real man? Feel daddy so deep in ya? Nothin ever been that deep before, huh..” You shake your head ‘no’ and he coos at how pathetic you must sound, barely able to make a coherent sound, forget string together a whole sentence. 
“Make me go fuckin’ crazy, babygirl.” 
What he says is fucking filthy, there’s no denying, no justifying it. It makes you squirm, makes you even wetter, makes you want him even more. 
“Think you wanna go back to him? With daddy’s cum drippin between those pretty thighs, show him how a real man treats his girl?” 
“Gonna make ya beg him to stay, gonna talk some sense into him, just so daddy can have ya all to himself, ain't that right? You gonna sneak into daddy’s room in the middle of the night? All wet an’ achy? Beggin’ daddy to fuck ya how ya need?” 
“Wanna run away with me baby, live in a perfect little house, let daddy give ya his babies, fuck ya full’ve my cum every single night?” 
His hands roam your body, smoothing over your hips, reaching forward to squeeze at your breasts, pinching and kneading the flesh. He bends down to trail light kisses along your spine and the feeling is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Your head twists side to side against the sheets as you squirm, each sensation like it's heightened to the maximum, the heaviness and the throb between your thighs at an all time high. 
You know you're close, you can’t hold it off much longer. Your cunt squeezes and your toes curl. You also know Javi won't last, you can feel him pulse against your swollen walls, can feel the way he desperately thrusts into you, pushes you further down against the mattress, grips your skin with that renewed fervor, with the desperation of doing anything to hold on to the incredible sensation. 
“Come for me, babygirl, come for daddy, show daddy how much ya needed this, show daddy how bad ya need his cock.” 
Your legs part even further under you, if that's even physically possible, your entire upper body being smashed into the mattress. You call out Javi’s name, followed by a string of desperate, strained, whiny daddy daddy daddy’s. 
With a strangled moan that's partially muffled by the covers you come undone, your head spins and your heart pounds in your chest, you feel yourself gush and clamp down around his cock. You feel Javi’s hips stutter behind you and his cock throb against your wet walls. The feeling only prologues and intensifies your orgasm, your body going slack and eyes rolling back into your head. 
“Please daddy, need your cum, please, give it to me..” 
Javi’s groans catch your attention as you come down from your high, still reeling from the aftershocks when you feel his cock twitch inside you and paint your walls with his hot spend. Your words are strained and slurred, but they clearly get the job done. You shiver and press your ass back against him to meet his stuttery, sloppy thrusts, and bite your lip when you feel him tighten his grip on your hip, feel him land a final spank to your ass for good measure as he slows down. 
You keep your ass in the air, face still pressed against the mattress as Javi pulls out. You hear him mutter a few strained curses under his breath as he does, and catch him looking between your legs to see his spend obscenely leak out of your used hole. He reaches his fingers to rub against your messy folds and you whine, feel him gather up your juices and push them back inside your cunt in a way that has you almost cumming right there again. 
Your dress is still pooled at your waist and he unzips it entirely, sneaking his hands under your thighs and flipping you over and yanking you towards him. 
“You really want daddy’s babies?” Your head falls back against the bed when you feel his hand cup your cunt, rub your messy, swollen folds with the calloused tips of his fingers. You barely manage to nod. 
“Then I ain’t done with ya yet pretty girl.” You tilt your chin to catch his gaze, now in nothing but your stupid little wedding veil. You’re not sure about the best day of your life, but this sure as hell contends for one of the best nights. 
You can be my daddy tonight-night-night
I'm neon phosphorescent
Open like a Christmas present, oh
You can be my daddy tonight-night-night
If you're seeking heaven
Then you wanna come and get it alright
Be my daddy tonight
What's up what's up
What's up what's up
Be my daddy be my daddy
Be my daddy be my, be my daddy tonight
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AHHHHH feel like I’m going to hell for this one. Thanks so much for reading!! Please please please let me know what you think. I’d love to know your thoughts!!! Thank you to everyone who engages with my work, you keep me writing!! 💗🐝
731 notes · View notes
gurugirl · 5 days
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Truth or Dare | slumber party!h
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Summary: Y/n's coworker, Harry, has never been to a slumber party so she decides to remedy that and give him a sleepover he'll never forget.
A/N: Based off this request. Thanks anon! I hope you enjoy!
Word Count: 6,752
Warning: smut
. . .
By her third glass of chardonnay, her stomach was feeling the acid from the wine but she was having such a good time talking to Harry from the operations department that she didn’t care. She’d have another before calling it a night. Just one more glass so she could sit with him a little longer and listen to him talk and watch as he ran his finger along the edge of his pint glass.
He was probably looking at her like he was because he was also three pints of lager in and he was kind so he was holding eye contact to be polite. Certainly, it wasn’t because he found her attractive (though she’d have welcomed that).
The company’s management meeting was long over and everyone else had gone home but Harry and Y/n stayed for another round. They rarely ever got to talk at the office. She’d always wanted to pick his brain about why he decided to move to the US and how, of all companies, he chose to work at Dunn Services.
Y/n laughed on cue as he mentioned something from his childhood with his sister having her friends over to stay the night. He grinned, a healthy row of teeth aimed at her before he looked down and laughed at himself, “In truth? I never did have a sleepover or anything like that.”
“Really? Surely you had friends…”
Harry nodded, “Oh yeah I had a lot of friends. But I never stayed over at anyone’s and they never came over to mine either. Just… I don’t know. Never happened.”
Placing her nearly empty glass down she turned and waved with a smile as the waitress walked by, “Can we get another round, please?”
“How are you getting home?” Harry asked when she faced him, crossing her leg over her knee toward him.
“Taxi. You?”
“Might walk. I’m not far from here.”
Nodding she placed her elbows on the table, “So, I think that you’ve missed out on an integral right of passage, having never had a slumber party. You should definitely remedy that at some point. I highly recommend a fun sleepover. In fact, if you need pointers on what to do during a sleepover, I’m your gal.”
“Oh yeah? What’s your go-to during a slumber party?” Harry teased before taking another sip of his beer.
“Well, I think there are like two main components. The first is entertainment and I’m always keen on a good movie, or a dumb one, either way… a movie for sure if I’m picking. Some people like to play board games or whatever, but I like to stuff myself into a pile of blankets and pillows and just lie, or drape,” she spoke using her arms to demonstrate herself draping into pillows. “Occasionally, if the mood is right, I’ll enjoy a little truth or dare.”
“Got it. A movie and maybe if the mood is right, truth or dare. And what’s the second component.”
Y/n crossed her fingers together and raised her brows as if she were about to say something very important, “Snacks. Beverages. Good ones. Usually just small bites but here’s my list…” She cleared her throat, “Buttered popcorn, and possibly potato chips. Definitely something chocolatey, and maybe something like a cookie or a snack cake. If not potato chips then tortilla chips and if it’s tortilla chips, salsa should also definitely be on the menu.”
Harry held back the laugh in his throat as he nodded, “Wow. Okay. What about like a burger or Chinese food? Would that be allowed?”
Y/n shrugged, “It’s your party. You can do what you want. I’m just telling you what I’d do and what would be a hit with your sleepover buddy.”
Harry breathed out a laugh. Y/n could tell he was getting bashful. She wondered if he was thinking the same thing she was. She watched him for a few seconds before the waitress returned with their drinks.
A quick gulp of wine and she nudged at his shin with her shoe, “You wanna have a slumber party with me?”
Harry blinked and tilted his head, “What? You mean… Seriously?”
She shrugged, “Why not? Then next time someone asks if you’ve ever had a proper slumber party you can say that you have.”
He laughed loudly, his husky voice was like music to her ears. Pointing at her with his finger he grinned, “Now how I can argue with that? I mean,” he shook his head, a glint in his eye, “Every time someone asks me if I’ve been to a slumber party and I tell them I haven’t, it’s such a disappointment! The look on their faces when they realize my whole childhood was a sham…”
They both laughed, leaning in toward one another, tittering toward the edges of their stools.
Harry tilted his head, “Actually I think it sounds fun. You just name the day and I’ll be there.”
Y/n smiled at him. She knew it was crazy. Having a grown man at her place for a slumber party. Typically adults didn’t have those kinds of sleepovers – it was usually with the intent of something far more salacious. But she’d show him a good time, she thought, raising her glass toward his, “Deal.”
.                 .                 .
Y/n had her sofa bed pulled out and piled high with extra blankets and pillows. She had all her favorite snacks plus she ordered cheeseburgers and fries for the guest of the night. It was silly. Truly she hadn’t had a real slumber party in ages, but she couldn’t help but feel a little bit of excitement that she’d be hanging out with Harry all night. It was possible that her small crush on him was making her feel all giddy but she’d push down that feeling until he gave her any extenuating signals.
Because the truth was that they were both single, young adults and this was such an unlikely scenario. No one would look at this and say Oh how cute of these two grown adults hanging out in bed together for a sleepover. So innocent! No, she knew better. While maybe nothing would actually happen it certainly wouldn’t look innocent.
And of course, she did pick out the perfect pijama set. Something a little more flattering on her body but not too hey I really need to get laid tonight. It was a happy compromise. Cotton shorts and a button-up, matching short-sleeved top. This was just supposed to be a slumber party after all.
Right?
Besides, the little paper invitation she gave him on Monday morning told him to arrive in his sleepwear so she had to look the part. And not to toot her own horn but she made a very cute invitation just for him tucked into a pink envelope with a separate little response card that had space at the bottom for him to mark yes or no if he could come. It was a yes. Obviously.
When Harry finally arrived he was wearing a pair of grey sweats and a white t-shirt. And for some fucking bizarre reason he looked so much hotter than he did when he wore his well-fitted suits at work.
Because goddamn did his shirt somehow just hug his torso in all the right spots and it allowed her to take a good look at all tattoos on his arms that were normally hidden under brushed wool jackets or long-sleeved button-up shirts. She knew he had tattoos. She’d seen him roll up his sleeves a couple of times but she never wanted to be rude and stare for long.
And then the sweatpants, while loose in the legs, fit his waist and hips and…
“You okay?” Harry was still standing in the doorway with his backpack draped over his arm waiting to be invited in.
“Yeah, sorry. Not used to seeing you dressed down like this. Almost unrecognizable.”
Harry let out a soft laugh, his eyes crinkling as Y/n stepped aside to let him in, “Would you like to see my ID? Swear I’m the Harry Styles, the guy you invited over for chips, popcorn, and truth or dare. I’ve even got your invite somewhere in my bag…”
She breathed a laugh through her nose and watched him enter into her space, “Movies too. Oh, and I also ordered cheeseburgers. Remembered that you mentioned that.”
He seemed quite pleased with the burgers as she handed him the bag. She got those small ones, five to an order, “Thanks. Fries too, huh?” He reached into the bag and pulled out three crinkle-cut french fries then stuffed them into his mouth.
“So should we settle in and pick out a movie?” She gestured toward her couch.
Harry had seen the pull-out couch with heaps of pillows and blankets when he walked in. He knew that that would be where they’d be spending most of the evening. It was the glaring thing about the whole slumber party slash sleepover. That they’d be probably sleeping next to one another. As two young, healthy, attractive adults.
“Sure,” he nodded and waited for her to pick which side she was going to take before climbing in next to her, the thin mattress and metal frame giving way gently under his weight before he leaned back against a mountain of pillows, bag of burgers safe in his hands.
Y/n had a few video streaming services at the ready and they settled on a cheesy comedy from the late 90s before Y/n reached over to her coffee table and then lined up all the snacks between them.
They chatted a little, having both seen the movie already. Topics were anything from what their plans were for the rest of the weekend to what they’d eaten for lunch at work. And it was only a little awkward when they both reached into the bowl of M&M’s at the same time, fingers brushing together.
Harry moved his hand away, “Sorry. You go…”
Y/n grinned at him, scooping a handful of candy into her palm, and then sat up, adjusting her seating as she crossed her legs together, “Wanna do truth or dare? Pretend like we’re 15 again having a sleepover. Really get into the whole slumber party vibe, ya know?”
Harry dug out a few M&M’s and let out a chesty laugh, “If I’m 15 again we’re in big trouble.”
Y/n snorted a laugh, “Why? What do you mean?”
He shook his head, a wide grin on his face with deep set dimples carved into each cheek as he turned his head to look at her, “If this were happening when I was 15 I’d already be in the bathroom hyperventilating and probably trying to will away a boner after our hands touched in the M&M’s bowl.”
Y/n guffawed and threw her head back, nearly choking on her bite of chocolatey candies as Harry laughed with her. Honestly, it was the best icebreaker she could have asked for. Things had been kind of clunky between them up until that moment as they were still trying to navigate how to act around one another. And she knew he was teasing but the good belly laugh that she got from Harry’s story was exactly what they needed.
“Okay fine. We’ll just keep going about it as adults then. No fifteen-year-olds here tonight,” Y/n chuckled as she shoveled a few kernels of popcorn into her mouth.
Y/n kept her eyes on him as she chewed her mouthful, “So truth or dare?”
Harry cocked his head at her, “So the mood is right then? For truth or dare?”
Y/n’s brows furrowed, “The mood?”
“Yeah. You said it over drinks. Remember when you were telling me what the most important components are to a sleepover and you said you liked truth or dare if the mood was right.”
Nodding slowly, she thought back to what she’d said, “Yeah. I guess I did say that. And I mean… I think the mood’s right for a little truth or dare. Movie’s almost over and you just pretty much kicked us off with that truth.” A breathy laugh was pushed from her mouth.
She could tell Harry was mulling on another question as he bit the inside of his cheek, head tilting in agreement, “So that means it’s your turn. Truth or dare?”
Biting her lip as she pondered, she pressed her back into the soft pillows behind her, “Truth.”
Harry shifted to his side, long legs stretching the length of the mattress as he propped his head up in his hand, a pillow under his arm, “Have you ever kissed a co-worker before?”
Scoffing Y/n moved to her side, mimicking Harry’s position on her side, “No,” she grinned. It was true. She’d never once done anything with any of her coworkers. Having Harry over at her house was the closest she’d ever gotten to doing anything like that. “Now you. Truth or dare?”
His green eyes slid over her features, “Truth.”
She laughed to herself, trying to think of something funny, “How many stuffed animals do you own?”
Licking his lips he nodded, “Think maybe two? Gifts from my niece… Truth or dare?”
“Mmm… dare,” she giggled.
Harry lifted a brow, “Ahhh… feeling bold yeah? Okay… hmm…” He pursed his lips to the side as he considered the dare. “Read to me the last text you sent to anyone. And you have to show me to prove it was the last one. And it can’t be any texts you and me, cause that’s not fair.”
Y/n blinked. She wasn’t exactly sure what her last text was besides Harry. But she was slightly worried because if it was what she was thinking… lifting up her message app she scrolled down to the text thread below Harry’s and it was a text with her sister. Which was what she had been worried about. She gulped, hoping that the things she said about her “coworker” who was coming to stay with her weren’t the last things she and her sister texted about.
Puffing out a breath she covered up all the previous texts to show Harry the last text from her sister – God knows you need it. Sending you good vibes, sis ;)
Harry squinted as he looked at the message and pointed, “That’s to you. The dare was to show me the last text you sent to someone. Let’s see it…”
Feeling her neck heat up she angled the phone away from him and read what she’d sent her sister. And there was no mention of Harry but if he were even halfway decent at picking up clues he might be able to figure out what was being discussed prior.
She shook her head and looked up at him. She couldn’t believe she was about to show him what was on her screen. But a dare was a dare. What was the worst that could happen?
lol I doubt anything will happen but I wouldn’t turn him down. Got condoms just in case 😜 send all your good vibes my way
Harry’s brows squished together as he looked at the text and back to Y/n and then down again at the words on her screen. She saw his throat bob and she knew the look on his face. He fucking knew what that was. He had to know.
She had to look away. She pulled the phone down and killed the screen. The awkwardness between them thick and uncomfortable as she peeked back at him. The edge of his mouth was pulled upward in a smirk, “That’s to your sister?”
Nodding she blew out an exasperated breath, “Your turn. Truth or dare?”
Harry grinned as he positioned his knee closer to Y/n, his eyes still on hers, “Dare.”
Swallowing her embarrassment down the best she could she decided to ask him the same, “Now show me the last text you sent anyone besides me.”
Harry’s smartass grin told her all she needed to know. That his last text probably wasn’t nearly as risqué as hers.
And it wasn’t. Not even close.
You can have two pounds for free. I’ve got so many growing I can’t keep up. As long as you come to pick them up on Monday they’re yours.
“I have a bunch of zucchini growing in my garden,” Harry pulled the phone away and laid it down next to his hip. “Got a neighbor who wants some.”
Of course, his last text to anyone was about zucchini. Jesus, she was so far out of her depth.
He was still wearing that shit-eating grin as he said, “Truth or dare, Y/n?”
And the way he said her name, all slow and sexy-like had her insides heating up. Well, maybe she made up the sexy part but he was definitely teasing her. She could just feel it.
“Truth.”
She was sure she’d regret that. Truth or dare. It didn’t matter. She was still reeling from showing him her texts.
“Was that text about me?” Shit-eating grin in place as he asked. Fucker.
Y/n’s eyes grew wide dropping her mouth open in surprise. Of course, he was going to ask that. Of course!
“Oh come on, Harry…” she pleaded.
He lifted his brows and awarded her a larger grin with those cute indents scoring into his cheeks, “Them’s the rules, baby. You chose truth and now you have to be honest.”
Clearing her throat she sat up to her bottom and leaned forward so she didn’t have to look at him as she put her head in her hands and laughed in disbelief, “Jesus. Seriously?”
“Yep. Spill. Let’s hear it.”
“Okay. Fine. Yes. It was about you.”
Keeping her eyes on her lap she waited for a smug remark. Some kind of teasing reply but it was quiet. Slowly she turned to look back at him and he was still lying on his side, head in his palm as he watched her, his eyes fixed to hers.
She shrugged, “Your turn. Truth or dare?”
Harry flattened his lips and squinted at her before cocking his head, “Hold on… Really? That was about me?”
Sighing she rolled her eyes, “Yes. Sorry. I was… it was just funny… it was me joking around with my sister is all.”
He blinked and looked down at the space between them as he nodded, “Okay. I see. So you didn’t actually mean it?”
“Well… I guess… We were joking. Obviously, nothing has to happen. I would never expect that. I…” she breathed out exasperated.
“Obviously nothing has to happen. Did you want it to happen?” His pupils were pinned to hers again.
Opening her mouth she stopped herself for a moment. She knew her answer was yes but she didn’t want to come off like a creep. She hadn’t expected it and assumed it wouldn’t. But the truth remained; she hoped it would happen.
Deflating her posture she laid back to her side to face Harry, tucking a pillow into her chest, “The truth is that I think you’re attractive and I haven’t been with anyone in kind of a long time and… she knows that, my sister. So we were just… it was lighthearted but yeah I mean… without any expectations, cause I would never… I hope you know that. But I did think it would be nice.”
“Nice. Yeah. I agree. It would be nice. And just so you know,” he swung his head to look over his shoulder before looking back at her, “I brought condoms as well. You know… just in case.”
She was a bit stunned at that. Was he…
“Dare me to kiss you,” he grinned, irises dropping to her lips for a second before looking back into her eyes.
She laughed, “That’s not how the game works. The rules are you can’t–”
“Fuck the rules. Dare me to kiss you.”
Shaking her head with a wide smile stretched across her face she felt like her skin was pricking as her heartbeat picked up. She couldn’t believe this was actually happening.
Looking back into his eyes she inhaled deeply, “Fine. I dare you to kiss me.”
Harry’s smirk was unreal. The way he dragged his gaze over her face and down to her mouth was almost lewd, “Didn’t need to play truth or dare to get me to kiss you, Y/n,” he scooted in, grabbing the pillow she had tucked into her chest and tossing it away before he drew a hand up to her face, “You just needed to ask.”
She held her breath as he closed in slowly until it was as if all the tension in the room had popped and fizzled when his lips met hers.
He was so soft and gentle. Lips winding easily, carefully at first. And then she parted her lips more, kissing him back and letting her mouth press into his bottom lip before their tongues were meshed.
She moved her knee out to stabilize herself and knocked over the bowl of popcorn between them. Laughing into his mouth she gasped as she parted from him but he only reached for her again, placing his palm at the back of her head to pull her mouth back against his with a grunt from his chest as he pushed the bowl away and drove his arm underneath her side to keep her from getting too far.
Harry was softly moaning as his tongue worked its way into her mouth gently. It was clear he’d wanted to kiss her. That he liked it. And that notion made her head spin combined with the feel of his thumb traveling over her jaw. There was not going to be any stopping the momentum that had begun.
Well, except for when the bowl of M&M’s poured out against her leg. She had to push at him. As much as she would have loved to have kept making out, she would not have been able to enjoy melted chocolate on her legs or the bedsheets tucked around the mattress (think of the scrubbing she’d need to do!).
“Sorry,” she panted and looked down at the smashed pieces of popcorn and the chocolate candies strewn between them, “I’ve gotta pick this up. Our body heat will melt all these and it’s gonna be a big mess.”
Harry grinned, “Why don’t we just move this party to your bed for a little bit? Clean up later? The M&M’s won’t melt if we’re not laying on them.”
She laughed, already feeling overwhelmed and overheated from the kiss and now he was suggesting taking it to her bed? This was really happening, wasn’t it? She nodded and they both moved off the sofa sleeper to their feet, Harry following behind Y/n as she led him to her bedroom.
She already had her bedside lamp on. Bed made perfectly, everything tucked in and neat.
She turned to look at him and he stepped against her, palm splaying at her low back, “I dare you to get onto your bed and take your clothes off.”
A small laugh burst from her chest, “Oh, so now we’re just doing dares?”
He nodded, “Making up our own rules for this game. S’more fun this way.”
Letting go of her he watched as she stepped backward toward her bed and began to unbutton her nightshirt until it was shed from her body before she pushed her shorts down her legs. She was left in a pretty white bralette (something soft for bedtime) that stretched around her breasts and a pair of thin cotton panties that matched. She kneed up onto her bed and let her feet dangle off the edge and pointed, “Now I dare you to take off your clothes.”
He peeled his white t-shirt off, his hair mussing in the process. She watched with her lips parted at the gorgeous man stripping before her. Not only was he built exactly like what she dreamed of (tattoos, beefy, muscular, a touch soft, very masculine) but the boner tenting his sweats was hard not to home in on.
Harry stuck his fingers into the waistband and looked up at her, “M’not wearing any underwear, so be warned…”
She swallowed as the material lowered, belly button, happy trail, a bit of dark hair and then he pulled the stretchy waistband away from his body so his cock could push free and she was already clenching at just the sight as he removed his sweatpants, cock full and heavy between his strong thighs.
Jesus Christ.
Harry stepped forward, nudging himself between her knees and she leaned back to look up at him, “I dare you to take off the rest of this. Since I’m completely naked feels only fair.”
She bit her lip and looked down at his girthy dick. He was clearly not shy of his body, standing there like that, cock right in front of her. But why should he be shy when he looked like that?
Scooting back further into the bed she got up to her knees and pulled the bralette off first, feeling the heat of his gaze on her tits as she then slid her panties down her thighs. She wasn’t nearly as confident as Harry was as she quickly pulled at her top blanket and covered herself with a small laugh.
Harry stepped forward, one knee on the mattress before climbing in next to her, nosing at her cheek softly before his lips were connected to hers again. And she melted into him just like before. His mouth was magic or something because before she realized it, he’d pulled the blankets off her body and he had a big palm sliding up her thigh and over her hip, “Don’t cover up. So pretty. Knew you would be.”
She pushed her fingers into his thick wavey hair and felt her side hit the mattress as Harry pulled at her again, mouth still smeared against hers. He grabbed at her thigh, hitching it over his hip as he tucked in closer and it was warm and she could feel it. Feel him against her hip.
His giant hand smoothed against her bottom and up her spine until he was wrapping his long fingers around the back of her neck. Y/n nudged in closer, driving her hips forward until she was practically straddling him. So Harry took that as his cue to move to his back, taking her hips in his hands so she’d follow with him.
It had caught her off guard, the sudden change in position but her lips never stopped moving with his. Their kisses were wet and she could smell their saliva, and a touch of onion even from the burgers he’d eaten.
He guided her hips down, his thick cock hot under her thigh until she felt her pussy drag against warm skin at the base of his dick. A small gasp escaped her mouth as he pulled her up, letting her pussy glide up his length, “So wet already, Y/n…”
She was. It was embarrassing. Every inch of his shaft her pussy dragged against, coated him, wetted his skin. He kept pushing and pulling at her hips, using her slippery pussy like a soft wet toy he could run up and down his length.
Then she felt his fingers move around to her backside, digits sliding against her pussy as he licked into her mouth.
Gently she rolled against him and when she moved herself further down he pushed a fingertip inside, “Go on. Fuck yourself on my finger a little bit,” he whispered against her mouth.
He was filthy. She had no idea. He’d always been so sweet at work. So polite and respectful. But here he was reaching around her ass to get a finger inside of her cunt as she rubbed her pussy over his cock.
She panted into his mouth as she slid down around his finger, her clit smushed into his dick, slippery as she rolled up and down. But then he began to assist as he added another finger and began to fuck into her pussy, letting his digits curve into her the best he could from his angle. Slushy wet, she stopped moving her hips and parted from the kiss as she looked down at him. She could tell she was gushing all over his palm and probably his dick as she moaned.
“S’that feel good. You’re gettin’ my fingers all wet like it feels good.”
Nodding she gasped, “Yeah. Feels so good…”
Harry rutted up against her, his cock still pressed into her clit, and she panted, eyes still searing into his. She didn’t want to look away. She almost couldn’t believe he was in her bed fingering her like that.
“Your turn to dare me to do something. What do you want, Y/n?”
She moaned and closed her eyes. She was certain of what she wanted as she listened to the way his fingers gushed with each plunge into her.
“Fuck… dare you to… put on a condom.”
She popped her eyes open to peer down at him as he slid his fingers out of her, wiping her arousal on her ass, “They right here?” He moved his hand toward her bedside table, a knuckle tapping at the wood.
Climbing off of him she opened the drawer, “Yeah, a whole box. Hold on…”
Reaching over to pull out the condoms she felt Harry’s hands on her hips as he moved to sit up, then his lips were on her back, dotting warm kisses to her shoulder blades as she finally plucked a condom from the fresh box.
She watched him put the condom on and as expected, it didn’t cover his entire length. He was kind of a big guy. Well, maybe there was no kind of about it. Before today she had no idea he was packing like that. Though he always did come off as very confident and sure of himself.
She bit her lip as she watched him toss the wrapper away and then he kneed up to her, arm sliding to her back and carefully lowering her to the bed before spreading her legs apart as he fit himself there, sturdy thighs pushing against her soft ones.
“Gonna tell your sister her good vibes worked?” He smirked down at her, hands scouring her hips and tummy and then kneading softly at her tits.
Y/n laughed and reached a hand down to his knee before he pulled at her, making her thighs drape over his as he inched in closer.
“Hmm?” He was awfully teasing, she thought, grinning at her waiting for an answer.
“Probably,” she spit out in a laugh.  
Harry gripped at her thighs, lifting her a bit more to fit her bum over his bent knees and she wanted to scream in embarrassment when she realized he was inspecting her sodden vulva. She’d gotten herself all tidied up for him, should anything like this happen, so at least she had that going for her.
He smoothed his thumb through her pussylips, spreading them apart, and softly blew out a breath, “That is very pretty. Think we get him in there?”
She rolled her eyes as she watched him wrap his palm around his base and lay his fat cock over her mons, the condomed-tip reaching to her belly button, maybe further past, “Well, it’s made for it, so I’m pretty sure–”
“What… your pussy’s made to fit around my cock?” A cocky dimpled smirk gave way to a laugh.
“You know what I meant. It’s meant to… like…” she breathed out a laugh.
“Oh, I know… just fucking with you, Y/n.”
He gazed at her as he reared back, painting his cockhead through her labia, up and down, a soft bump into her clit before he repeated, spreading her soft lips apart as he watched the way his crown smeared her arousal between her creases.
When she moaned and wiggled her hips he pointed himself right at her little muscle, nudging softly forward, opening it up for himself. And she felt that first push, the way his tip fit into her, spreading apart and then stretching to accommodate his circumference.
“Oh god…” she breathed as he slipped in halfway and then pulled back.
“Almost there,” he panted as he kept his eyes on where they were connected, pushing and pulling back until she was swallowing him whole, his cock enveloped in her soft, warm pussy.
When he’d buried in whole, he moaned and watched her face twist up in ecstasy. Her lips were dropped open and her neck stretched long as she grasped onto the forearm of the hand he had gripping her waist.
Slowly he began to thrust, viscous liquid seeping from her pussy and sticking to his shaft. It was filthy. She was so wet that every time he bottomed out there was a splat and a plap sounding between them.
She let out a deep moan and her lips curled up, humid breath escaping her mouth as she felt him driving into her guts. He was taking it easy. Languidly fucking into her with wet claps every time he plunged in.
When her cunt was taking him easier and she was dripping down to her ass he moved in a little harder, faster. Angling himself over her, a palm down on the mattress so he could work into her with more gusto.
“Ah! Harry…” she squeaked at the stronger thrusts and clung onto his lats. He was panting, lips parted and pink, a curl falling over his forehead as he plowed into her splooshing pussy.
“Fuck you’re wet. Pussy is gushing, Y/n…”
Her brows pushed together as she gasped, her body knocked upward every time his hips met hers making her tits bounce. Harry didn’t know where to keep his focus. He loved watching his cock disappear into her hole but he kind of liked being right over her so he could see her face crinkle up every time he bottomed out and then her pretty breasts sway up and down. Or maybe he’d like to fuck her from behind, watch her ass jiggle as he pounded into her.
“Mmm… fuck that’s big!”
Harry groaned, “Yeah? Sure know how to sweet talk a man don’t you, pretty? S’hurt?”
She watched his face, a lusty grin, droopy eyelids as he continued muscling his way in deep.
She hissed when he bucked in, as if he was showing off just how deep he could push in and she coughed out, “Mmm… a little!”
Harry was going to lose his mind with her if she kept squeaking out moans and splatting around his cock like she was but he would be a gentleman and pull back a touch. Slowing down a little he sat up and moved his hand between them, smushing his thumb into her clit, which was so sticky wet even that swished and slid under the pad of his digit.
“Yessss…” she breathed out before murmuring on about how good it felt. “Oh fuck, that’s it. Oh god… please don’t stop… Harry, fuck, yes…”
The clit. The magical little nob that worked wonders as long as the man knew where to find it. Clearly, Harry knew right where it was. Knew how to circle over it, pressing against it just right. Knew how to fuck into her as well. Sliding his length through her vaginal walls, spreading her open, and grazing against her gummy little spot on the inside that had her buzzing and liquifying for him.
He watched her whine and squirm under him, loving how she was so into it. God that was an ego boost, “Like that, Y/n? Gonna come for me? Yeah?”
Her ears were already ringing when she lost herself, gripping around him and crying out as her orgasm washed through her tummy. Harry’s cock made her feel so full, so incredibly stuffed to the brim that it weighed her down and she could hardly move as he bulldozed into her, the pad of his thick thumb smushing fast circles over her throbbing nub.
Fucking her through it he gasped at how she spasmed and milked around him, her pussy trying to siphon his come right through his condom. But Harry wouldn’t come just yet. He had something to prove. Wanted to make a show of his prowess and give her something to tell her sister about.
So when she was finally calmed and her pussy wasn’t clamping around him like a vice grip he slid his hand under her head and kissed her gently, speaking low and soft against her lips, “Gonna have you flip over, okay? Just need a little more yeah?”
When he parted from the kiss she blinked up at him, fluttering lashes and out of breath, “You didn’t come?”
He shook his head, pulling himself out, gently before he placed his hands on her hips, “Not yet. I will soon, though. M’right on the edge. Won’t take me long.”
She rolled to her side as he lifted her hips and helped her get to her tummy. She felt his hands on her ass, squeezing and rubbing each meaty globe in his big palms. Then he was straddling her thighs as he spread her gently and she felt him push his thick tip back into her pussy, sharp and hot. It was tighter, felt a lot fuller like that as he began driving in deep and then pulling out to his tip, before plowing back into the hilt.
His moans grew louder and, even he could admit, sounded quite whiny, pathetic. He was shaking as he watched his dick spread her in half, her soft ass jiggling as he smacked into her, skin patting, his cock leaking precum steadily into his condom.
He hissed when it felt too good. His balls squeezing and his fat dick throbbing inside of her. He thrusted forward, landing a palm down next to her shoulder, his chest pressed into her back as he rutted himself in, tucking his cock through her insides and puffed out a hot groan into her ear, “Fuck you feel good. Gonna make me come, baby…”
She moaned and nodded, “Come for me, Harry…”
He might have held out for another thirty seconds, possibly a minute longer but her breathy words, all sultry and pleading had him pumping into his condom in an instant. He gargled on a moan and squeezed his eyes closed as he buried in and stilled his hips, ass flexing so he could push in further if it were possible.
Y/n felt him crushing her back as he collapsed over her, panted breaths in her ear, cock still throbbing in the aftermath of his orgasm.
She didn’t mind it. Liked his weight on her like that. Enjoyed the way he seemed just as fucked out as she was. She could even feel his heart pounding in his chest against her back.
With a moan, she turned her head and nuzzled her face into her blanket with her eyes closed. She’d fall asleep that way if he couldn’t get up. It was quite warm and comforting. Like a weighted blanket draped over her body. And maybe she did doze off for a bit because when she opened her eyes she felt him moving off of her before he crashed down next to her, the springs in her mattress bouncing under him.
Pushing herself to lie on her side she ran a hand over his chest and he turned to look at her, a dopey smile on his flushed face, “So this is what happens at slumber parties, huh? I’ve really missed out all these years.”
She giggled and nodded into her pillow, “Yep. They’re just like big orgies really. Normally there are more than just two people. It’s how I lost my virginity.”
Harry sputtered a laugh, “Really?”
Y/n couldn’t help but to cackle loudly and roll to her back, the biggest grin on her face, “No, silly. I was teasing.”
He slid a hand over her tummy, “So this isn’t what happens at slumber parties, then?” She could hear the cheeky smile in his voice.
She turned her head to look at him, “Well, not usually. But I think we made our own rules for this one today.”
“Yeah? Well, I have to give it to you. You throw a hell of a party. I’m certain this is gonna go down as the best sleepover in history.”
. . .
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emmyrosee · 2 months
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 Hiiii, I have a request. Imagine a highschool AU where reader has a massive crush on Sukuna but she thinks he has a thing with Uraume, but he actually likes her. Ok ok, so hear me out. Reader is childhood friends with Yuuji and Sukuna and she notices how Sukuna and Uraume have been hanging out a lot. So she asks Yuuji if Sukuna is going to prom and he says yes, and that he is probably going with Uraume. So reader is sad and doesn't want to go to prom anymore even after already buy her dress. Buttt, the day before prom, Sukuna and Reader end up talking and she mentions how he and Uraume are going together and he is confused.  Then they both confess and end up going together. Pleaseeeeee make this as angsty as possible, I love me some good angst😫
THIS IS SO CUTEEEE-
Bro this is so long yaLL GET A SNACK- I never had a senior prom this is my venting PFFFFF-
I do want to make a disclaimer! To make this fic work I had to go and use an American based school system, where traditionally seniors are 18, can drive, and eat in cafeterias. For those about to comment my inaccuracies, thank you!
—-
Sukuna has been a little more than preoccupied lately.
He, who once would spend every afternoon driving you and yuuji home, who would blast your favorite music and take you to McDonald’s for a soda, has been more than busy with someone new.
You don’t know where she came from, hell you’ve known the two of them for years, yet this is the first you’ve ever really heard of the being known as Uraume.
“They’ve actually been friends for years,” yuuji had told you. “I’m surprised you never really met her- though she’s pretty shy. Only close with sukuna, honestly.”
Yeah. Real close.
Within just a few weeks, Uraume has snagged your place as Sukuna’s number one. No longer does he stand outside your class to carry your books to the next. Your front seat privileges go to her. He plays her favorite songs. He drops you off at home before taking her to god knows where to do god knows what. And yuuji is blind to this change, merely glad his best friend is sitting in the back seat with him, all the while it tears you up on the inside.
And it isn’t until you catch a beefy hand shift to hold Uraume’s that you realize it’s over. Your heart shatters, your lip wobbles, and you turn your body to face away from the disgusting sight.
“You okay?” Yuuji asks, gently nudging you with the tips of his fingers, and when you look up to peek at Sukuna’s frame once again, you catch his eyes looking at you in the rear view. You sigh and turn your gaze away.
“What’s wrong, brat?” He asks, and you could throw up when Uraume turns in her seat to look at you too.
She looks genuinely concerned, and you could punch her for it.
“Just… take me home, Sukuna,” you murmur.
“But we’re getting pizza!” Yuuji whines. “I don’t want you to miss out!”
You smile and gently pat his leg, “don’t worry about me, yuuji. I’m just getting car sick.”
Car sick enough you don’t car pool with him anymore.
You’re back to taking the bus, curled on your seat to stay out of other people’s way, leaving home about 45 minutes earlier than you would’ve with Sukuna. It makes you skip breakfast and washing your face, barely giving you enough time to get into clean clothes and head off onto the day.
But it’s better than seeing them interact, a crush and potential romance brewing right in your eyesight. You never told him how you were getting to school, either, not in the mood for his attempts to change your mind or force you otherwise.
Until-
“You’ve been taking the fucking bus?”
There’s a loud bark that rings through the halls of school, people moving out of the way for the one and only sukuna to come barreling down it, some looking in worry, others with their eyes rolling in their skull.
You sigh and close your locker, leaning against it, “did yuuji finally tell you?”
“No, and I’m going to beat the shit out of him for not telling me,” he snarls, leaning in close. “Do you know how fucking dangerous the bus can be?”
You roll your eyes, “people take the bus every day, Sukuna.”
“Yeah. Not you. Not anymore. I drive you. You know that.”
“Not anymore,” you grumble. He cocks a brow in challenge and you roll your eyes, “I have no interest in being in a car with you.”
“Who fucking shit in your oatmeal this morning?” He snaps. “You’ve had a punk ass attitude for the past two weeks, what the fuck happened?”
“Maybe im just not into being babied anymore?” You lie. He furrows his brows and licks his lips as the bell rings.
“This isn’t over. We’re not done.”
“I am!” You sing.
You’ve never had a day at school drag like today has.
Classes have never felt longer, teachers have never talked slower, and the clock has never ticked drowsier. It physically causes your head to pound and your stomach to become nauseous, and agony courses though your veins as the lunch bell rings.
It’s only lunch.
You manage to shuffle your way out to the cafeteria to meet your friends, two who cheer happily at your arrival and one who offers you a nod of acknowledgment. You plop down next to Fushiguro and rub your temples.
“What’s wrong?” Yuuji asks, and you flash him a small smile.
“I just don’t feel well.”
“You haven’t felt well in days,” he points out, “I hope you’ll be alright for tomorrow night!”
Tomorrow night.
Prom is tomorrow night.
You scrub your face with your hands, “I’ll feel better once I eat, yuuji. Don’t worry,” you say quietly.
The drumming of Nobara’s nails on the table don’t help the growing migraine in your skull, and you try your best to drown out the noise of so many people and so many thoughts and so many feelings about your argument with sukuna that you feel like you could throw up straight on this table.
Kugisaki grimaces, “I told your brother to be here today to talk about prom,” she says, poking her juice open with a straw. “He’s late.”
“He’s not late,” yuuji says, pointing a finger at a table just a few down. “He’s over there, with Uraume.”
The minute every vowel passes Yuuji’s lips, a shiver trails down your spine, filling your entire being with heaviness and hatred. You don’t dare look over your shoulder, instead you grab a grape from Fushiguro’s lunch to munch on. He nudges the small container closer, and you take another green grape from him.
“Besides,” Yuuji continues, taking a bite of his lunch, “I’m 98% sure Sukuna’s going with her. Something about her friend group and car pooling, I figured we could catch a ride with someone else.”
Your heart stops completely.
The man you’d assumed you were going with, the man you’d been in love with for years, is taking someone else, the day before prom.
“He WHAT!” Kugisaki snaps, and next to you, Fushiguro laces his pinky finger with yours, squeezing softly to keep you grounded. “Oh! The fucking nerve! I knew he was a piece of shit, but THIS?! Oh, Itadori, why couldn’t you have your license!”
“Hey! Why don’t you!”
“Kugisaki,” Fushiguro says softly. “Him being a scumbag is nothing new. But,” you feel blue eyes focus on the side of your head. “Let’s be a little more gentle about this, okay?”
From behind you, there’s a set of laughter that eases its way over the cafeteria, and you wish it was literally anyone else’s, anyone’s other than Uraume’s, and you hate how light and airy it sounds.
How pretty.
“I know for a fact Sukuna’s not that funny,” Kugisaki grumbles, but all you do is pick at your food and silently pretend to agree with your friend.
Sukuna is funny. Sukuna is so funny it hurts, it brings tears to your eyes and your sides and stomach to hurt, and even though you share him everyday, it hurts now to share him with her.
“Man, she’s laughing real hard,” Yuuji says, taking a sip of his water, his head turned to watch his brother interact with his friend. “Wonder what he said.”
“Yuuji,” Megumi warns.
Yuuji chuckles to himself, “it’s almost like they’re feeding off of each other, it’s kinda sweet.”
“Yuuji.”
“-and I mean, Sukuna’s usually not so open and friendly, let alone cracking jokes. It’s cute-“
“ITADORI!”
Megumi snaps hard enough at his friend to make him shut up, and when yuuji finally turns back to face you, your bottom lip wobbles and you play more with your food. Tears pour down your face, as Kugisaki reaches over to rest a hand on yours, sympathy in her gaze. “Yeah,” you sniffle. “It’s cute.” The hand not being cradled by Kugisaki comes up to wipe your tears, and before you know it, your legs stand up and carry you straight to the bathroom, locking yourself in a stall where you’re able to finally let it go. You cradle yourself in comfort, eyes screwed shut as you sob every fiber of your soul out.
Kugisaki calls your name once, twice, then she sighs, “come on. Let’s talk this out, okay?”
“I’m not going to prom,” you confess. “Not if he’s going with her.”
“You don’t know if he is, though,” she argues, leaning against your stall door. “And if he is, and he fumbles the best thing that ever happened to him, he doesn’t deserve your tears.”
There’s another person that enters the bathroom, and you hear Kugisaki scoff. “You’re like, a thousand percent not supposed to be in here.”
“Bite me,” the voice snaps, and it doesn’t take long to decode it as Sukuna’s. Your hand claps over your mouth to silence your tears, not wanting him to hear you. “I thought she was crying, I wanted to check on her.”
“She’s fine. Shoo.”
“Kugisaki-“
“Don’t talk to me like we’re friends,” she snaps, and you close your swollen eyes as she defends your honor. “Because we’re not. Don’t act like you care at all about me or her, or her peace or her business. So fucking beat it, before I snitch you out to the principal, then no one’s fucking happy.”
You hear sukuna exhale in annoyance, “just… text me, okay?” He says, and you know he’s talking to you.
“She’ll think about it,” Kugisaki growls. Once the big footprints are out of earshot, you slowly ease your way out of the stall and straight into Kugisaki’s arms, “I know honey, I know,” she soothes, hugging you tight. “You deserve so much better, babydoll. Fuck him.”
“He led me on for months,” you wail. “And he tossed me to the side like a fucking piece of trash. For her.”
“And that’s why you should go to prom,” she argues, pulling back to look at you, eyes soft in understanding. “You don’t need him to have fun- you’ve got friends who are dying to go with you. And you want to make him real jealous?” She asks, and you quirk your brow in intrigue.
She smirks, “go with Fushiguro.”
You sniffle and shake your head, “I cant do that to Fushiguro. Im not going to use him as a pawn to make Sukuna want me again. It’s not fair.”
Kugisaki nods and clicks her tongue, “why don’t you get a note from the nurse and go home for the day?” She encourages, and you ponder the idea in your head.
Maybe it wouldn’t be such a terrible idea… to go home and process the day, figure out what to do about prom, maybe even return the dress for your money back. You sigh shakily and nod your head before the bathroom door bursts open again, emerging a yuuji whose hands are clasped over his eyes. “Just wanted to bring you your backpack!”
You snort and wipe your nose, “thank you, Yuuji.”
“You’re welcome!” He shifts his fingers to peek at you, lifting the middle one to make eye contact, “so… sorry we didn’t get to talk about prom.”
“It’s okay,” you sigh, ushering them both out of the bathroom. “I’m… I’m probably not going anyways.”
“WHAT!” He whines, his hands coming down to his sides in a saddened pout. “But! It’s senior prom! We have to go!”
“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I haven’t felt up for it since we made the plan to go. Maybe I’m just not supposed to.” When Fushiguro appears from the men’s bathroom and approaches the group, you flash him a sweet smile, “but I want you guys to still go!”
“Well if you’re not going, I’m not going!” Yuuji proclaims.
Fushiguro shakes his head, “if this is about prom, I won’t go either. We can chill at our houses instead-“
“EVERYONE IS GOING TO PROM!” Kugisaki barks, causing more than a few heads to turn in the hall. Then, she sighs, “we’re all old now. This is it. Our last chance of good memories from this shit fuck of a school. Everyone is going. Period.”
“But-“
“We’ll talk it out later,” you say quickly, noticing the duo of Sukuna and Uraume heading to the vending machines together. “I’m going home. Someone take notes for me.”
“Will do,” Fushiguro calls out for you. You feel three pairs of eyes boring into the back of your skull, but you couldn’t care less.
Not when you’re left to pick up the pieces of your broken heart.
Getting out of school was easy enough. Working up an excuse that you’re dizzy and need to be rushed home. It’s getting home that sucked.
Before, Sukuna was your ride home when you were sick, cutting classes to get you back to your home so you could take care of yourself and get plenty of rest. Now, you stand at a public bus stop, earbuds in your ears, and you wait. You’ve done this route plenty of times by now, courtesy of Sukuna’s front seat being taken by her.
The ride is quiet enough, your head resting against the cool glass of the window as your phone buzzes violently.
sukuna 💪🏻 Where the fuck did you go?
No seriously wtf
This shit with Fushiguro taking notes for you? The fucks up with that?
Why’d you even leave?
You think you can ignore me?
This isn’t over. Once this bell rings?
I’m hunting you down.
You ignore his threats and let the bus carry you home, your exhausted legs finishing the trip up and into the familiar confines of your house. You’ve got at least two hours before sukuna makes good on his word, and you decide to take that time to take care of yourself- something your heart has been too tired to do since Uraume came into your life uninvited.
After a hot shower, some skin care and topped with some pretty perfume, you make your way to the living room, stopping briefly for a snack from the kitchen.
You put on a movie, but your phone won’t stop buzzing. It’s Sukuna, it’s always going to be Sukuna, and you merely turn it on Do Not Disturb.
If ignoring his texts wouldn’t get him pissed, that certainly would.
But you don’t care. Not anymore.
There’s a ferocious knocking on the door that snaps you out of your zone, and it doesn’t take you long to render the intense energy as Sukuna’s. You pause your movie and shrug your blanket off, making your way to the front door.
Your hands tingle and your heart pounds at the idea of confrontation, but you figure you have nothing to lose as you open the door, revealing an annoyed Sukuna, foot tapping impatiently.
“You think you can hide from me?” he snaps, and you roll your eyes and try to close the door. Sukuna merely jams his foot in the frame to stop you. “Stop fucking around with me, and talk to me. And what’s this bullshit of Yuuji telling me you’re not going to prom?”
“I have nothing to say to you,” you say blankly, but all that does is aggravate him more, and he uses a big hand to force the door open more. The act would be attractive to you, had your heart not been torn into pieces by him. “Don’t break my door.”
“Don’t ignore my goddamned texts!” He barks. You scoff and step back inside your house, where he swiftly follows you. “You’re acting like a fucking child.”
“IM ACTING LIKE A CHILD?” You screech, loud enough where even Sukuna’s eyes widen. “Me? After this entire week where you’ve picked your new best friend to cling to, IM THE CHILD?”
“Yes!” He snaps. “What, I can’t have other friends?”
“You seemed pretty content with the one,” you chuckle. “Certainly didn’t need me to keep you entertained.”
“It’s not my fault that Uraume’s been hanging out with me more,” he says, crossing his big arms. “You just can’t handle sharing me once in a while? Are you that insecure?”
This, has you wincing back, his words making you nauseous and tears bite at your waterline, stinging painfully as you finally blink a line down. He takes a deep inhale and cards a massive hand through his hair, “I didn’t mean that-“
“Fuck. You.”
“Look-“
“No, you look, Sukuna,” you growl, hands coming up to shove him hard. “You don’t get to gaslight me into thinking I’m being dramatic, after you’ve completely thrown me to the side and neglected me for the week. You don’t get to make me feel like the bad guy after you led me on for months on end, only to chase after another girl. You don’t get to break my heart, and demand me to piece it back together, only to try and guilt me for protecting my peace! FUCK! YOU!”
“Led you on for what?” He asks, confusion replacing annoyance, but aggregation still in his tone. “The fuck are you spewing?” You reach up to shove him again; this time, he grips your shoulders to make you steady, “are you out of your fucking mind? There is no other girl!”
“Oh, yeah,” you scoff, your voice tight with tears. “You just hold every broad’s hand in front of me. You just rest your hand onto every girl’s thigh, clearly. My bad, Sukuna.”
“I never held her hand, I moved her hand from my thigh, you weren’t fucking paying attention!”
“Yeah? What about not walking me to class anymore? Not carrying my books for me? Not sitting next to me anymore, instead going to be with her?”
His brows furrow, and there’s nothing you’d like more than to smack the expression clean off of his face. “Doll, Uraume is a friend. That’s it!”
“Yeah? Then what does that make us?”
“Everything!” He yells, the plates rattling and doors creaking from the force. The tears in your eyes still as you stare up at him, whimpering and shaking in his grip.
“What…?”
He sighs in exhaustion, “are you so dense you don’t notice just how obsessed with you I am? The minute someone else comes into my life, you’re blind to that?”
“Sukuna-“
“I’ve fought Fushiguro over you,” he continues. “I’ve argued with teachers for being late to walk you to your class. I’ve gotten pulled over speeding to your house to be with you. I’ve fucking been here, wanting you, but I was waiting for you to be ready.”
“Well, you’ve sure had a hell of a time proving it,” you snip, and he grits his teeth to ground himself. “Talking to another girl, taking her to prom-“
“I’m not taking her to prom, I’m taking you!”
“Then why have you been ignoring me!”
Your words are silenced as he grabs you by the chin and pulls you in for a kiss, the broken bits of your soul and heart snapping back together. Your brain stops and your stomach swirls, but your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, keeping him close. He tastes like orange soda and feels comforting like a freshly washed blanket, his band tee getting fisted in your hand as your other one plays with the hair of his buzz cut. He shivers, his arms hug around your waist, panting into your mouth before hesitantly pulling back.
He leans down to your ear, “listen carefully. I’m not taking Uraume. I’m taking you. Uraume is a friend. That’s it. Once I tell her we’re together, she’ll back off, and we’re going to be fine. I’ve been ‘ignoring you’ because I figured you wanted space, but I couldn’t deal with it anymore. Got it?” You sniffle and burrow your face in his chest, letting his big arms wrap around you and keep you safe. He presses another kiss to the crown of your head, and you feel your mind go fuzzy at the moment he cradles you close.
“Missed my annoying brat of a crush. Driving to school was so fucking boring,” he says, and you scoff against him and wipe your nose on his shirt. “Ugh. Ew.”
“You’re supposed to find me pretty no matter what,” you sniffle. “Even if I use you as a tissue.”
“Maybe, just don’t use me as a tissue?” He snickers, and when you loosen and laugh yourself, he gently pulls back to look at you.
“C’mon. Show me your dress. Need to know what color tie I’m getting.”
“You want to match with me?” You whimper.
He smirks, “Kugisaki already hates me. You think she’s going to let us not matching slide?”
“You’re so right.”
729 notes · View notes
latenightreadingpdf · 6 months
Text
Familiar Faces - Spencer Reid
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Summary: Doctor Spencer Reid reunites with childhood friend Y/N, only to discover she's being stalked. As the BAU investigates, old feelings resurface between them.
The bright fluorescent lights of the FBI building cast a glow over the corridor. Doctor Spencer Reid adjusted his satchel on his shoulder, his mind racing with the details of the latest case file that had just landed on his desk. He was lost in thought when he bumped into someone, nearly dropping the stack of papers he was holding.
"I'm so sorry," a familiar voice said.
Spencer looked up, his eyes widening in disbelief. Standing in front of him was Y/N, his childhood friend from high school. Memories flooded back as he took in her familiar face, though older and more mature than he remembered.
"Y/N?" Spencer stammered, his voice laced with shock.
"Is that really you?" he continued, his eyes scanning her face for confirmation.
She smiled, her eyes shining with recognition and surprise. "Wow, Spencer Reid. I never thought I'd see you here in Quantico."
"It's been years," Spencer replied, a hint of a smile forming on his lips.
Before he could say anything more, Y/N stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace. Spencer hesitated for a moment, his touch aversion making him uncomfortable, but he found himself wrapping his arms around her in return.
The team, who had been watching the interaction from a distance, exchanged confused glances. They had no idea that Spencer and Y/N knew each other.
"Is everything okay here?" Hotch, the BAU's unit chief, asked, stepping forward with a stern expression.
"Yeah, we're just... catching up," Spencer explained, a blush creeping onto his cheeks.
As they pulled apart, Y/N's smile faded, her expression turning serious. "Spencer, someone's been following me. I think I'm being stalked."
Spencer's eyes widened in concern. "We'll handle it," he assured her, his voice firm.
The team gathered in the briefing room, reviewing the details of Y/N's case. The stalker had been sending her anonymous gifts and messages and had even been spotted near her home.
"We need to catch this guy before he escalates," Morgan said, his voice filled with determination.
"I agree," Hotch replied. "Reid, you'll stay with Y/N to ensure her safety."
Spencer nodded, his mind already racing with the details of the case. As he and Y/N left the BAU office, he couldn't help but feel nervous and flustered around her, his usual calm and composed demeanor faltering.
Over the next few days, Spencer and Y/N spent a lot of time together, trying to piece together clues about the stalker. Despite the seriousness of the situation, they found moments of comfort and familiarity in each other's company, reminiscing about their high school days and catching up on lost time.
One evening, as they were going over the case files in Y/N's house, Spencer found himself lost in thought, staring at Y/N's face as she concentrated on the documents spread out before them.
"Y/N, I..." Spencer started, his voice faltering.
She looked up, her eyes meeting his. "What is it, Spencer?"
"I just... I never thought I'd see you again, let alone like this," he admitted, his cheeks turning a shade of pink.
Y/N smiled, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on his arm. "Life has a funny way of bringing people back together," she said softly.
As they continued to work on the case, Spencer realized that his feelings for Y/N had never truly faded; they had simply been buried beneath years of separation and missed opportunities. He found himself hoping that once the stalker was caught and the case was closed, they would have a chance to explore the connection that had unexpectedly rekindled between them.
The days turned into weeks, and with the combined efforts of the BAU and local law enforcement, the stalker was finally apprehended. As Spencer and Y/N said their goodbyes, both promising to keep in touch, he knew that this was just the beginning of their story.
Standing in the hallway of the Quantico FBI building, Spencer took Y/N's hand, pulling her into a gentle embrace. This time, there was no hesitation, no discomfort—just the undeniable realization that sometimes, life gives you a second chance to reconnect with the people who matter most.
And as they parted ways, both Spencer and Y/N knew that they were embarking on a new chapter of their lives—one filled with hope, promise, and the possibility of a love that had been a long time coming.
914 notes · View notes
cashmoneyyysstuff · 14 hours
Text
half return.
katsuki’s decides to go home for the weekend, he invites you to come with him.
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I'M BACK ! yall it’s been a while since ive written a full lil fic and this has been itw for a lil bit so i hope yall enjoy ! requests are still otw ! but i figured I’d write a little something to celebrate mha ending :(( tysm mha you will forever be my most beloved animanga in the whole world..BUT ANYWAY SAD STUFF ASIDE yall know i had to bring back my childhood friends to lovers on em,,cmon NOWW ITS JUST MY FAV TROPE YALL 🤧🤧🤧🤧 Anyways, i hope yall enjoy, much luv xxx
SUPER childhood friends to lovers (MY BIG ONE), MHA MANGA SPOILERS (post war and katsuki in rehab !), kissing and being in lubbb bleurghh, soft suki, sleeping in the same bed, mitsuki and katsuki lol, masaru being a sweetie, cooking, lemme know if i missed sum else <33 !!
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“i’m goin’ back home for the weekend.”
these are the first words spoken in a couple of minutes. you were content with sitting in katsuki’s dorm room back at the height alliance, simply sitting in the same space doing your own thing. things slowly taking back their normal course despite you all still having a lot of work to do.
you look up from your phone to look at katsuki who’s eyes have not drifted from his. “oh yeah ? that sounds nice.” you smile, you’re sure his parents must want nothing more than to spend time with their son who saved the world. and you think secretly, he wants to go home too.
he grunts in response, continuing to scroll through his feed. and after a pause he adds “hag asked if you wanted to come with.”
you blink at him, it has been a while since you’ve properly spent time with katsuki’s parents. the last times you did it was when they came to visit you in the hospital to wish you well and offer you some sweets, not exactly the most joyous of occasions, but you loved seeing them either way.
you blink up at him, “are you sure that’d be okay ? i mean, it’s a family thing, no ?”
katsuki shrugs in response “‘s not up to me, she wants to see you so bad.” he glances at you “you gonna say no to her ?” you snicker at his teasing. mitsuki was a sweetheart, but she still intimidated you a little bit since she was a rather..intense woman.
“well i’d hate to disappoint her.” you jest, katsuki snorts, soft smirk pulling at his face as he rolls his eyes. he finally turns to look at you “you don’t have to, i could just tell her you’re busy.” your heart shakes at his subtle reassurance, but you shake your head.
“that’s fine, it’s been a while since i’ve been to your house anyway.” you scooch closer to your boyfriend, laying your head against his chest as he wraps his arm around you immediately. you want to get as close to his heart as possible, wanting to hear even the faintest of sound. to make sure he’s really there with you at times.
katsuki’s hand is warm as he softly rubs up and down your arm, “yeah it has, hasn’t it..” he sighs, and you think he was talking for both of you.
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katsuki's house feels no different from when you were a kid.
the house still smells the same, mitsuki always told you that she liked the soft fresh scent she sprayed through the house. she always liked to leave at least one window open because she said it felt too stuffy, a habit that you recognised in your boyfriend, but that was also probably because he ran hotter than most people.
it calmed her, she said, and with how rowdy katsuki was lord knew she needed it. katsuki always complained when his mother would try out new air fresheners, and you remember his distain for a particular strong lavender one. (although you didn't like it much, either.)
the couches are still the same, all the pictures hanging around the house are unchanged as well. pictures of mitsuki and masaru at their wedding, of katsuki getting a big all might figure for christmas, and of you both at your elementary school entrance ceremony. you giggle every time you see it because katsuki's face hasn't changed much aside from it's pudginess. his expression fierce and you could even see how tight he was gripping your hand in the picture. (katsuki doesn't find it as funny as you do.)
katsuki's mom has always been very youthful, her face hasn't changed much from the years you've known her aside from some wrinkles appearing with age, she still looked as gorgeous as ever. you've always thought she was stunning. she greets you just as excitedly as she did when you were six and came over to play. although she can't scoop you up in her arms anymore she still embraces you so tightly, she stills comments on how big you've gotten and how you manage to look prettier every time she sees you, you feel just as warm.
as usual, katsuki is quick to try and drag you to his room as soon as he gets the chance, not before getting an earful from his mother for not responding to her texts and not telling him how he was doing. they quickly get to arguing, like usual. and masaru quickly comes to your aid so you don't have to sit in the middle of the two loud blondes.
his voice is as gentle as you've always known it to be as he asks you if you're okay, if you're starting up school well. his soft tone and the care he has for you makes you feel warm too.
katsuki manages to swiftly get you two out of the living room, stomping up the stairs and mumbling to himself about his damn old hag. you giggle and he turns to glare at you, squeezing your hand hard and scoffing.
you see katsuki visibly slow down the closer you get to his room, his expression visibly more calm than a few moments ago. serene, like he's taking it all in. you squeeze his hand tighter and he squeezes back, you don't think he realises it.
it takes you back too, the sound of your footsteps in your ears reminds you of your socked feet running around the hallway chasing each other, padding softly against the floor when you would try to sneak a cookie late at night 'cus katsuki told you you were too chicken to go. you can almost hear your loud laughter and soft giggles in your ears. you're griping katsuki's hand.
katsuki sighs before opening the door to his room, the window is already open, his mom most definitely did this to greet him back in her own way, he stays quiet about it. you see how he scans around his room like he hadn't been there in years, a lot of stuff he had in here before was sitting in his dorm room now, but it's still his room. black sheets replace his previous one's, the one's that were used to replace his even older all might themed one's. you'd really seen it all, it makes you even more nostalgic.
"hasn't changed much." you hear him mumble, he looks around at the posters on his wall. the look in his eyes is a foreign one, it's a sort of peace you don't see often in him.
"did you expect it to ?" you tease, taking slow steps like you're exploring a museum. his room is no different, it shouldn't be. but you think maybe it's because you're both a bit more different than the last time you've been in here, maybe you've both grown up a bit more. katsuki plops down onto the floor, leaning against his bed, you follow suit.
"guess not," he scoffs, running a hand through his hair. you both sit in silence, your eyes fixed on a poster on his door. it's crinkly and it's a bit torn up around the edges. you lean your head onto katsuki shoulders and inhale, breathing the room in and close your eyes. you feel him wrap his arm around you after a moment. after the experiences you've both had, being able to relax like this with him is more than you could ever ask for. he squeezes your shoulder and you snuggle against him more when he presses his nose to your hairline, pressing a kiss to it shortly after. you feel warm all over again.
you've sat on this floor more times than you could count. laying on you're back as you laughed with your best friend, on your stomach as you read comics together. you'd eat snacks too, but katsuki never liked eating on his bed because he'd get bothered by crumbs, so you were on the floor most often. laying on it too much made your stomach hurt, and you knew your butt would be sore. but you'd go through any pain to be with katsuki, and with everything you'd been through a sore butt was absolutely nothing.
you sit there for longer than you should in a room that hasn't changed, that wasn't left untouched for long. you have memories with every thing inside this room, katsuki still the all might bobble head you'd gotten him as a joke in your room. you see the fake golden first place medal he'd gotten when your elementary school had track races. so much that you've shared with him, so much more you want to share.
right now in his room frozen in time, you feel like you have all the time in the world. it's foolish, but it's nostalgic, and it fills you with hope that everything will be like usual again.
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"you're peeling those all wrong."
the sound of slicing stills as you look over at your boyfriend. you tilt your head "i'm not."
"you are, unless you actually want to cut your fingers off." he fights, rolling his eyes. you turn your nose up at him, frowning down at the potato in your hands. it looked good, you knew you were doing good.
"asshole." you grunt, you hear katsuki grunt next to you, the clattering of his own knife cutting carrots (you’re surprised he’s still that good at it despite only having one arm) catches your attention before you feel him press behind you. you stiffen, you try not to let him see the effect he has on you because you know he gets annoying about it.
when you were kids, katsuki always thought it was funny to say you needed him, joking that he was your knight in shining armor because you kept clinging to him, his words not yours. despite it seeming like he was clingier than you.
he places his hand over yours, it’s warm as it cover yours and guides you. you feel your heart pick up when he speaks closer to your ear. "you shouldn't cut towards yourself. and you slice too damn fast," he leans into your shoulder "ease up a bit."
you swallow, your heart beats in your ears "okay. thanks, mr. know it all." you mutter bitterly. katsuki continues to move your hand for you, you don't stop him.
"you should be glad i am, otherwise i would’a let you keep hacking at shit like a maniac." he chuckles.
your throw your head back and groan "ugh, you're so annoying."
you've known it for years. katsuki has been your best friend since you were in diapers and despite how much you love him, you will be the first one to complain about how fucking annoying he is.
even when you were babies. your mom told you that katsuki would take your pacifier and shove it in his own mouth while you wailed helplessly. he'd tug at your hair and poke you in class. you're sure you've called him every name in the book ; a meanie, a big bully, annoying, a jerk, an asshole, a dick head, every mean word you'd learned over the years. it makes you a bit nostalgic, but he's just so irritating.
he huffs, shoving his head into your shoulder. his hand still over yours, and he slowly lowers it into the counter. you drop the knife to turn to blink at him with wide eyes. he keeps his eyes on yours and returns to his earlier position so you don't see this embarrassment covering his cheeks. he wraps his arm around your waist tightly, pressing against you harder making up for the one that can’t. you snort at his antics.
you're sure katsuki will be an irritating know it all for the rest of his life, he's been for as long as you've known him after all. but one thing he always hated was making you upset. he always claimed it irritated him when he went too far and you'd ignore him, but in the few times he made you cry, you always saw how apologetic he looked. how his eyes were just a bit a glossy when he'd tuck his head into your shoulder in shame. he never said sorry often unless his mom forced him too when she caught you two arguing, but you always knew he was with the way he insisted on sharing his snacks with you, how he let you play with the better controller, how if he was feeling really sweet he'd kiss your cheek and look away with a bright red face.
as irritating as he is, you do hope he never changes.
you wish you could stay here for longer, just a bit longer, but you worry one of his parents (most likely his mom) would walk in and see you both. you pat at his arms, squeezing them softly "i think i got the hang of it, katsu." you utter softly. he grunts, staying against you for a moment longer before moving away, squeezing your side, to which you squeal in surprise, you see him smirk and he goes back to his own cutting board.
so irritating, you think. yet you bite your lip to hide the smile growing on your face.
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“hey, bathroom’s free if you want it.”
katsuki’s still drying his hair with his towel when he pads into the room, his room.
you tear your eyes away from one of his many all might figures, running your fingers across it’s details “oh okay, thanks.” you stretch, arms and all might rising along with you. you hear katsuki scoff and he stomps over, ripping the figure out of your hand.
“be careful with that.” he growls, you giggle apologetically “sorry, sorry..” he rolls his eyes, placing it back neatly on his shelf, posing the arms exactly as he likes them.
what a nerd, you think. you giggle to yourself.
katsuki’s bathroom reminds you of sleepovers. of being sent up to brush your teeth before bed and racing to see which one of you could do it the fastest and get their teeth the cleanest, you both could never agree on it. it reminds you of how much katsuki hated the flavor of the toothpaste and would make such an ugly face when he’d taste it you’d fall over laughing. it reminds you of gargling mouthwash and competing on who could do it the loudest.
katsuki was always the one who started those ridiculous contests and was always the sorest of losers, but you never backed down from his challenges. it made things more fun, he made things more fun.
you’d known this bathroom for your entire life, if the picture book filled with pictures of you and katsuki in the bath together didn’t prove that fact. (though katsuki likes to pretend they don’t exist.)
the kid’s scented shampoo is gone now, the one you’re using doesn’t make as many bubbles as the other one did, and it doesn’t smell as fruity sweet. things change, just like you.
you feel cozy in your pyjama’s. katsuki had insisted you sleep in his room, looking at you like you grew another head when you told him you’d sleep in the guest bedroom. “don’t piss me off, you’re sleeping here.” is all he’d offered you.
and sure, you always have. katsuki hated being separated from you and you from him, so you sleeping in his room was mandatory. but besides on a few occasions, you still haven’t slept with him alone since you were a kid. it’s stupid, but it makes you a bit nervous. it’s stupid, but you hope you don’t look weird while you sleep and you hope to every god you don’t drool.
katsuki looks up at you when you walk through the bedroom door. you smile at him and he jerks his neck to signal you to come in, scooting over to make more space for you. you close the door softly behind you, not wanting to disturb katsuki’s parents you’d already wished goodnight to, you softly pad over to him and he snorts.
“why’re you creepin’ like that ?” he smirks, clearly amused.
“i don’t want to disturb others by stomping around like a behemoth, unlike you.” you sass. katsuki scoffs, glaring at you.
“fuck off,” he snarls “you look stupid. lookin’ like you’re about to steal christmas.”
you gasp, walking over to his bed, and smacking his arm, he barks out a loud laugh and you shove him, he shoves you back with his good arm and you continue to scuffle and poke at the other’s stomach and sides until you push his arms away and scoot back. he huffs proudly, always the arrogant bastard. the sorest of losers.
you make your way to lay down next to him, there’s a bit of a distance though. because you feel petty, but also because it’s strange thinking you’ll fall asleep with him like this willingly. it won’t be accidentally like it happened a few times in his dorm room and you’d begrudgingly go back to your own room. you nervously rub at your legs.
“the fuck’re are you doin’ ?”
“what ?” you huff, trying to mask your embarrassment with annoyance. katsuki only raises a brow.
“yer actin’ fucking weird.” he scowls, you scowl back.
“am not !”
“are too.”
“i’m not doing this with you.” you sigh petulantly, crossing your arms. “i’m just fine.” you hear katsuki scoff next to you.
“sure, weirdo.” your side eye makes him laugh, he leans his shoulder against his headboard “come over here.”
you roll your eyes, but you’re shuffling to his side embarrassingly fast. katsuki leans his head into your neck, pressing a peck there and two to your cheek. which he proceeds to bite once, then leans even more in your space to bite your nose to make you laugh. he grunts at something blocking him from pulling you closer, which ends up being his own arm.
“move that for me, yeah ?” he grumbles, looking down towards his arm. you blink at him before slowly reaching for it. you can tell it wants to flinch with the way the muscles between his thumb and pointer finger tighten and how his breath hitches. he doesn’t stop you when you grab a hold of it. it hangs limply as you draw shapes across it.
“how are you doing here ?” you whisper, he’s close enough to hear you like this. his eyes don’t look away from yours fixed on his hand.
“‘m startin’ to feel it better..an' i can move my arm some, can't move my hand at all though.” he mutters lowly, lidded eyes on you “doc says it’s good progress.”
“that’s good.” you smile, relieved. you’d been a bit worried about katsuki denying a prosthetic but you immediately hated yourself for doubting him. he had his own reasons for refusing it and if he thought he could handle therapy, then that meant he could.
"that's really good."
you trust him, you always have. you trust him with your life, and you’ll trust him when he tells you he’ll always come back to you, even if he scares the shit out of you. you trusted him for trust fall when he promised he would catch you and he did, even if he did scare you. you trusted him on your first day of school when he said he’d keep holding your hand the whole day and when he said he would be your best friend forever.
you’ll trust he’ll be okay, as usual.
“yeah, sure.” he spits, glaring at his arm.
“katsuki..” you sigh, you place a hand against his cheek to get him to look at you. he huffs, face turning to you but his eyes won’t. “it is great progress. especially with what you went through. shit, the doctors thought they’d have to cut it off at first !”
“it still sucks.” he utters bitterly, closing his eyes he inhales, eyes darting towards the end of the room. “it’s—i don’t know—weird, i guess. feels weird as shit knowing you just can’t use your arm anymore when you could your entire life.” the fist he manages to squeeze shut clenches and so does your heart.
you know he’s probably most angry at himself for putting himself in that situation, in his eyes. but he’s a hero in yours. you can’t help but feel for him. his hand that gripped your tightly to ground you, that squeezed your nose for saying dumb shit, even the one that’d pull at your clothes to drag you away.
you’d been with it your whole life, so you can’t even start to imagine how he felt.
“i know,” you start sweetly, he sighs against your hand, eyes still downcast “i mean—i don’t think i’ll ever understand how you feel. but i want you to understand that this is just all part of the process..” his eyes flit up to you as you speak.
“you’re a hero, katsuki.” and you don’t say it like it’s the job he wants. not like it was written on his provisional hero license. you say it like when you were both 5 years old watching tv and katsuki proclaimed loud and proud he wanted to be just like all might, and at ten when he said he’d be even better than him. like when izuku would come over to play and you’d all sing the theme song together.
you say it like it is, his dream.
“and nobody can ever take that away from you, but now your body needs rest. a lot of it.” you continue, nodding to yourself. katsuki softly huffs in amusement in your hand. it’s soft but it’s there and it makes you smile. he looks up at you now.
“and it’s frustrating right now, i’m sure. but you’ll get it. you’ll get there, just give it—give yourself time.” you let go of his hand and press both of your hands against his cheeks now, because you need him to listen. he’s always had this horrible habit of going to the extreme for what he stands for. and though you looked up to him for it, sometimes it was extremely self destructive, and you want him to know he has the time. that he has to give himself time.
he heaves a long sigh, nodding against your skin. he grunts, pressing his mouth to your hand. “mhm,” he responds, and that’s more than enough for you. he grabs your wrist with his good hand, leans in, and kisses you. you meet him halfway like you did when he first kissed you goodnight on your front porch when you were 15. back then, he’d gone beet red and swiftly walked away, hands in his pockets muttering a quick ‘see you’ but he’s gotten more comfortable throughout, way more comfortable. he kisses you easily now, and his cheek still shine pink, but he doesn’t look away, rubbing his thumb against your cheek.
“thanks,” he utters softly. they come out easily when he used to have a harder time forcing them out before. “i, uh—i’ll get better, wanna hold you properly.” he mumbles, a small pout on his face. you giggle, sure he’s more comfortable now, but he still gets just as easily embarrassed when he has to speak his mind. and that was okay, you’d wait for him, you’ll give him the time he has yet to give himself fully.
“then do your best, yeah ?” you encourage. you kiss his nose and he scrunches it up, but a smile twitches onto his face. “dummy,” he mutters affectionately, leaning in to bite your nose. you laugh, pushing at his chest, and he silences you with a flurry of kisses to your mouth.
he uses his good arm to press you to him and pull you down onto his bed, he grunts when you squeal in surprise, he makes himself comfortable and pulls the covers over you both.
“so damn loud, thought you said you didn’t wanna bother my parents.” he teases, you roll your eyes. your smile is still so ultimately fond of him as years ago, despite how irritating he was, he was still your best friend.
“shush.” is all you offer him, getting more comfortable against him, getting more comfortable with the idea of falling asleep with him like this.
katsuki remains quiet for a few minutes. “hey,” you look up at him and you can see how hard he wills himself not to look away from you.
“love you.”
your eyes widen, you blink. and it’s quiet. katsuki looks around the room “c’mon. say it back, will ya ?” he utters grumpily, tucking his head into your shoulder and his bordering on whiny.
“right sorry,” you chuckle “not used to it yet.” you say sweetly.
this was something new, something he told you just recently. that he loved you, that he was too pussy to tell you before because he’d loved you all these years, is what he told you. the thought makes your heart feel warm all over. everything he’s ever done over the years had i love you poured all over it all along, it makes you unbearably giddy.
you love him so much.
so you tell him, “i love you, too. so much.” he shoves his nose harder into your shoulder at your last words and you giggle.
“i’ll keep sayin’ it ‘till you get to used to it. do it forever if i have to.” he mumbles out and you’re giddy, impossibly so, because you can’t wait for forever.
“okay..” you hum.
you think maybe things will never truly go back to how they usually were. the world has changed and so have you, so have you both. and there’s still so much to do, but you want this new normal to come with katsuki, you want your forever with him. you want him to stay your best friend forever like he’d pinky promised you, even though he thought those were girly and stupid, he still promised and katsuki was somebody who never went back on his word.
so you’ll trust him, you’ll trust that he’ll always be yours and that you’ll be together forever. that he’ll tell you he loves you forever, and that you’ll get used to it.
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Two Can Play That Game.
You’re cheating on Patrick. You’re not proud of it, but it just… happened. Patrick’s cheating on you, too. He never meant for it to happen, but it just… did. Imagine the surprise from both of you when you find out that Art Donaldson is caught up right in the middle.
pairing - art donaldson x patrick zweig x female reader (college era)
warnings - smut. cursing. cheating.
word count - 3.5k
authors note - every dynamic in this film is so fucked up and I love it. i’ve thought about this movie every single day since it came out, so it was about time I put pen to paper… i’m about to write so many fics with these two (and tashi). get ready. yeah.
masterlist. inbox.
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It was an accident, the first time it happened. You swear.
Art had turned up at your dorm room one evening, with your tennis racket in one hand and a bottle of rum in the other.
He’d claimed he’d accidentally picked up yours when you were practising your serves together earlier in the afternoon - he’d only realised when he’d got back to shower and change. You’d opened up your bag, and sure enough, there was Art’s racket. Laughing as you handed it back, you invited him in.
“What’s with the booze, Artie?”
“Wanted to drink. Didn’t want to do it alone.”
“Fair enough.”
You couldn’t find any cups, so you took turns swigging from the bottle. Laying across your bed, the two of you talked about everything, from college classes to childhood summers.
It wasn’t unusual for you to hang out. You’ve been good friends since the very first day at Stanford, meeting each other at orientation and deciding to stick together. You found out that you both played tennis, and decided it was an instant connection. Easy.
“Patrick’s coming this weekend. Did he call you?”
“Yeah,” you confirmed, handing the bottle back to him. “He wants to watch you beat Carson.”
“He has a lot of faith in me,” he’d laughed, taking a swig.
He gets this glint in his eye, when he’s a little tipsy. It usually signals mischief and carelessness, two things he doesn’t have while sober. It’s charming.
“We both do.”
Shaking his head, he held the bottle out to you.
“You’re good, still? You and Patrick?”
You nod, ignoring the way the rum burned your throat as you swallowed.
“Yeah, we’re good. Miss him, though. He’s not good at calling.”
“I know. He’s always got that phone in his hand, but he’s shit at using it.”
You’d chuckled, taking in the way the lamplight made Art’s hair glow like some sort of halo.
“Hey, Art?”
“Hmm?”
“It isn’t weird for you, is it? Me dating Patrick?”
“I mean, it’s a bit late for this conversation, isn’t it? You’ve been dating for like, nine months or something.”
“Dude, answer the question.”
“Nah, it’s not weird. Was a bit unexpected at first, sure. But you’re good together. Makes sense.”
You nodded, putting the bottle down on your bedside table. You leaned your head sideways, resting it on Art’s shoulder where he lay.
“If it ever gets weird for you… you know, college friend and childhood friend, your two worlds colliding… just let me know, yeah?”
“Yeah, of course.”
You stayed in the comfortable silence, both slightly buzzed and a little warm. Eventually, Art sat up, looking at you seriously.
“If he ever… if, I - I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a dick.”
You sat up to face him, urging him to continue.
“Just say it, Art.”
He took a deep breath, chewing on his bottom lip.
“If he ever doesn’t treat you right, or tries to fuck you over… just tell me, okay? He’s not exactly known for being a model boyfriend.”
“He’s been good so far, but… thank you. I’m not stupid, Art. I know that boy has a reputation for being a slut.”
Art had laughed, then, all bouncy and unexpected. The sound of it lit you up.
“Understatement of the fucking century.”
You shook your head, but couldn’t quite wipe the grin off your face. You moved your legs to sit cross cross apple sauce as Art did the same, facing each other.
You’re not sure what possessed you, but you reached out gently to move a stray curl from his eyes. He caught your wrist, pressing a careful kiss into the bone. Your breath hitched, at the action and at the feeling of his rough fingertips against your soft skin.
To this day, you still don’t know who moved first. All of a sudden, he was kissing you, or you were kissing him, lips melding together like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle sliding into place. Art tasted like rum and spearmint gum, lips soft from the chapstick you bought him the week before.
His hands cradled your face as yours tangled in his hair, pulling him as close as possible. You’d climbed into his lap, tiny shorts doing nothing to separate the two of you.
You knew it was wrong. Both of you did. But maybe the thrill of it is what turned you on. Shirts thrown onto the floor, bra caught on the lamp, panties shoved into the pocket of Arts athletic shorts. It was a perfect picture of infidelity - and in that moment, you couldn’t have cared less. Neither of you could.
Art had fucked you slow and deep, spurred on by spiced rum and the sugary sweet noises spilling from your mouth. Sweat slicked skin slid together, groans and whines reverberating through the air.
You came three times before Art eventually did, babbling and muttering nonsense into the crook of your neck. All you could make out was the word Patrick.
He’d pulled the duvet over the two of you, falling asleep instantly with limbs intertwined.
Almost as if you hadn’t betrayed someone you both loved.
Almost as if it hadn’t felt inexplicably good to do it.
Almost as if you both knew you’d most likely do it again.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
They didn’t mean for it to happen, that first time. They both swear.
Patrick was crashing in Arts dorm room, both of them planning on hitting up some Stanford frat party. They’d been on the courts all afternoon, smacking balls at each other as hard as they could, keeping the other person on their toes.
Art never laughed with anyone else like he did with Patrick. All day, they’d been giggling like kids, undoubtedly pissing off everyone around them. But this is how they are. They’re the most themselves, when they’re together.
You were supposed to go to the party with them, but you’d knocked on the door last minute and told them that there was a situation with your friend that needed to be dealt with. She’d been broken up with, suddenly and without reason, as most college breakups happen. According to you, she was devastated, a real mess of emotions. You’d vowed to stay in her room that night so she wasn’t alone. Both Art and Patricks hearts had constricted at your kindness. They’d never met anyone like you.
“I’ll come by tomorrow morning and we can still go out, spend the day together. Okay, babe?”
You’d leant up to press a sweet kiss to Patrick’s lips, laughing when he pulled you in to deepen it.
“Okay,” he’d agreed eagerly. “Text us if you need anything, yeah?”
“Will do. Have fun, boys!”
And then you’d left as quickly as you’d arrived, in a cloud of Victoria’s Secret perfume mist and vanilla scented body butter.
“Looks like it’s just you and me tonight, Art.”
The blonde would be lying if he said he minded. He didn’t. He liked you a lot. But he liked Patrick more.
Hours later, they stumbled back into Art’s dorm, drunk and babbling about the events of the night.
“She’s hot, Art. And she likes you. Clearly. How often does that happen?”
Patrick yelped when his best friend shoved him over, hitting the floor with a thump.
“Asshole. I’m not interested in her, like I told you eight thousand times tonight.”
“I just think Mackenzie-”
“Mallory.”
“-Mallory could be could for you. You’re not getting laid in college, Art. Do you know how lame that is?”
“How do you know?”
“Because you’d tell me.”
They looked at each other carefully, neither one daring to break the tense silence. Eventually, Patrick rose from the floor, kicking off his shoes and pulling off his jeans.
“I’m not sleeping on the ground tonight.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’ll kill my back. And I have a match coming up.”
Art rolled his eyes, climbing into bed in his little boxer shorts.
“Where else are you gonna sleep then, huh?”
Patrick grinned, all white toothed and gleaming, before jumping right into bed next to the blonde, pulling the duvet up and over them.
“Right here.”
“You’re the fucking worst, Patrick. You know that right?”
“You love me.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Art has never been able to argue with that stupid smirk. He rolled over, trying to put distance between them on the tiny university issued bed, acutely aware of how Patrick’s legs were tangled with his. It was all too intimate. The worst part was that he didn’t mind one bit.
“Missed you,” Patrick mumbled into the dark. “Don’t like that you’re not at home with me all the time now.”
Art half thought he was dreaming. All the sudden vulnerability had his head spinning, dizzy with affection.
“Miss you too,” he’d croaked out, quiet and afraid. “Wish you were here. We could have shared a dorm, played tennis together every day.”
“That sounds fun.”
Patrick was still speaking in hushed tones, as if he was scared he’d spook Art, send him running for the hills. They weren’t usually like this - so tender with each other. It had both of them reeling.
Both of them turned to face the other at the same time, trying to make out shapes of features in the dim light.
“I like the two of you together.”
Patrick knew Art was talking about you without him having to say it explicitly. It had always been like this with them. Easy, unspoken communication. Conversations without words.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Genuinely. I like her.”
A deep breath. Some quiet.
“I know you do.”
More quiet.
And then Patrick was propping himself up on his elbow, leaning over his best friend in the darkness. Art didn’t dare move an inch, unsure of what he wanted to happen next.
They say they don’t know who made the first move. All of a sudden, their lips were pressed together, gentle but insistent. Art could taste the liquor on Patrick’s lips. The history too.
It was more tender than either of them thought it’d be, when they’d dreamt it, imagined it, got themselves off thinking about it. They touched each other with almost careful hands, worried they’d spook the other person and send them sprinting down the hallway. Underwear was thrown across the room, duvet kicked to the end of the bed, pillows strewn across the floor.
They were gasping into each others mouths, sweat dripping down toned backs as their hips moved in tandem. Art silently thanked his lucky stars that his roommate was at his girlfriend’s for the weekend when Patrick groaned lowly into his ear, the sound reverberating through both of them.
One of them gasped I love you when they both came at the same time. Neither of them knows who it was.
It doesn’t matter either way.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
“You’re sure?”
“Very sure, sweetie. He left last night. Been talking all week about how excited he was to see you and Art.”
“Okay. Thanks, Mrs Zweig. Appreciate it.”
“Of course, honey. I want to see you soon, okay? Carve out some time for us in your next break from school. We’d love to have you again.”
“I will. Thanks again. I’ll see you soon, maybe.”
You press the red button on your phone, confused. Going back through your texts, you find the one you’re looking for.
From: Patrick
can’t wait 2 c u on fri. thinking bout u. <3
It’s Thursday. You’re not technically expecting to see your boyfriend until tomorrow. Except, you could have sworn you saw the back of him in the cafeteria earlier, and now he’s not answering his phone. In a panic, you’d called his home landline, where his Mom had picked up and told you he’d left for Stanford last night.
So where the hell is he, and what the hell is he doing?
You decide to go to the one person who should know - Art Donaldson.
Marching down the hallway in your flip flops, you hold Art’s spare dorm key in your hand. You figure that if no one answers, you can just open the door and peek your head in to see if Patrick’s stuff has been dropped off.
Which is exactly what happens when you get there. Your knocking goes unheard, and so you turn the lock and swing the door open, expecting to see two empty beds and the usual mess on the floor.
Instead, you see Art.
And Patrick.
In bed.
Together.
They’re tangled, completely intertwined, momentarily unaware of your presence. When you kick the door shut, they both jump - Art hitting his head on the wall as Patrick almost falls off the mattress.
“Well, well, well.”
They’re both blushing furiously, avoiding your eyes on purpose.
“How long has this little rendezvous been going on, huh?”
You should feel nothing but rage. You should be boiling up inside. You should be outraged. Should, should, should.
Instead, you feel… even. Validated, almost. No one is saying anything, so you continue.
“Art. Fucking. Donaldson,” you laugh. “I did not think you had it in you. Damn.”
Patrick looks completely lost, so you sit yourself down on the edge of the bed where they still lay, toeing off your shoes and making yourself comfortable.
“Patrick, my lovely boyfriend. Let me tell you a story,” you grab his hand in yours, sickly sweet expression painted across your face. “Actually, I can’t be bothered. The bottom line is - Art has been fucking me into the mattress like, once a week. For a while.”
The brunette has the nerve to look shocked, glancing back and forth between you and the blonde next to him as if he’s watching a tennis match.
“You fucking snake,” Patrick jabs, but there’s no malice in it. He sounds… amused. “And you, Miss Goody Two Shoes. You’ve been fucking my best friend while I’m away, and then fucking me when I’m here?”
“Best of both worlds, baby.”
He grins at you, at the absurdity of it all. Art’s too busy blushing so hard he might pass out to process what’s happening.
“And you, you little fruit,” you poke Patrick’s chest, giggling. “You always told me you and blondie were just friends. Bet this has been going on for years, huh?”
“Not years.”
The sound of Arts voice surprises you both, two heads snapping around to face him.
“Months, maybe. Not years.”
“Who was first, Artie? Me or Patrick?”
“Idon’tknowit’salittleblurry.”
“Hmm? What was that?”
“I think he said-”
“Shut the fuck up, Patrick. Let the whore speak.”
They’re both stunned into silence, but they can’t take their eyes off you. They don’t dare.
“I don’t know,” Art chokes out, voice hoarse. “It’s a little blurry.”
You laugh, all maniacal and entertained, and the boys don’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“Holy shit. Damn. Was this your master plan all along, Art? Get us both into bed? Live out your bisexual fantasies and hope no one finds out?”
“No.”
“No? It’s what it looks like to me.”
“No, it’s - I just…”
“Cat got your tongue, blondie?”
You surge forward and capture Arts lips in a bruising kiss, licking into his mouth all filthy and debauched. Patrick watches on with his jaw unhinged, blush on his cheeks and tent in his boxers. After a minute, you pull back, cool as ever.
“Well, your tongue still works, Art. So, spit it out. Who. Came. First? Me, or Patrick?”
“Why does it matter?”
His voice has gone all small and tinny and afraid, and you’re not proud to admit how much it turns you on. He’s pathetic, in this moment, and you’re living for it.
“Call it curiosity.”
“You know what that did to the cat, right?”
Patrick’s voice surprises you, considering he’s been a spectator for the duration of the last conversation.
“What’s your game here? You wanna figure out if I cheated first, or if you did?”
“Maybe. Doesn’t matter either way. We both did it.”
“Yeah. We did.”
The three of you sit suspended in time, both of them slightly scared to move out of line or speak out of turn.
“So what now?” Patrick asks eventually. “We gonna sit here all night?”
You think for a moment, looking at both of them carefully. You’re all sat within touching distance on the bed, so close but so far.
“Show me.”
“Hmm?”
“I want you two to show me how you touch each other when I’m not here.”
Art’s eyes go wide as Patrick’s lips curl into a lazy smirk.
“Yeah, babe?” your boyfriend asks, clearly unphased by the request.
“Show me what you do when you think you’re being slick behind my back. I want to see.”
When the blonde doesn’t move, his best friend pinches his thigh.
“You heard the lady, Art. She wants a show, so we’ll give her a show.”
You scoot backwards so you’re perched right at the end of the bed, giving them their space. Patrick sinks to his knees on the floor, pulling Art’s hips to the edge of the mattress as he goes. You realise, suddenly, that both boys are completely naked while you’re still fully clothed. That thought gets you hot under the collar, the power dynamic going to your head.
You watch as Patrick kisses up Art’s thighs with practised precision, nipping and biting at the spots that make him squirm. You chuckle, realising that both you and Patrick have learnt the same things about Art’s body and the way he reacts. He seems to have the same realisation, looking up through dark lashes to smirk at you.
Art is none the wiser, lost in the way Patrick’s tongue feels swiping across his toned muscle. He’s rock hard and leaking, begging to be touched in any way he can get. You squirm in your place, determined to stand your ground and make your point but desperate to relieve the ache between your legs.
Patrick takes Art in his hand, squeezing gently as he rubs his thumb over his tip. He writhes into him, whining like a puppy eager for attention. He’s panting, chest heaving as if he’s just finished a tennis match.
“Tease him but don’t kill him, Rick.”
“Fine, fine.”
Your boyfriend takes his best friend in his mouth suddenly, taking both of you by surprise. You watch as he sucks him within an inch of his life, all messy and wet and utterly debauched. You’re not sure if you’ve ever been this turned on.
There’s no handbook as to what you’re supposed to feel, watching your boyfriend suck the dick of his best friend. There’s a thought in the back of your mind that maybe you should feel shame, or embarrassment, or rage. Instead, all you feel is excitement. It’s fun, getting to peek into their dynamic behind closed doors, a show that usually has no audience. You feel… special, almost.
Art is wriggling on the edge of the bed, hips jerking upwards involuntarily, making Patrick gag. The sound of it is so erotic, you worry for a moment that you’ll pass out. You’re lightheaded, dizzy with it all.
“You look so pretty, Art. So pathetic, but so pretty.”
They both groan in unison, Art’s head dropping back in bliss. His stomach contracts as Patrick hollows his cheeks, and you can tell he’s getting closer and closer with every swipe of his best friend’s tongue.
You lean forward, running the back of your knuckle over Patrick’s cheek where it’s stuffed full. He makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a whine, and you laugh cruelly. Art’s hand tightens in the sheets, so you tangle your fingers into your boyfriend’s hair and yank as hard as you can.
“What the fuck, babe?”
“No, please. So close.”
You chuckle, running your thumb over Art’s bottom lip.
“Whores don’t get to come, Art.”
He goes to protest, but you cut him off sharply.
“Keep whinging and you won’t come for a week.”
They both shut up, silence swirling through the air. You take Arts place, moving him over so you can sit on the edge of the bed. Spreading your legs, you look down at your boyfriend where he’s still kneeling all pretty.
“Now’s time for your redemption, Patrick. Get to work.”
He slips your shorts and panties down to your ankles, pulling them off and throwing them onto the floor.
“Don’t worry,” you whisper into Art’s jaw, sucking a bruise there. “You’ll get your shot at redemption, too.”
They’re looking at you like guard dogs, ready to comply to any demand.
“You underestimated me, boys. I mean, what did you think was going to happen?”
Nothing can be heard except for the two of them taking desperate, heaving breaths.
“Two can play that game. Or, three, in our case.”
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@nymphetkoo @diorrfairy @bobo-bush @amorisxx @imawhoreforu @luiise @raekensluver @ever1ongg @melancholicmelanin @munson-blurbs as promised <3
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