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#like I’m ignoring it and pretending it isn’t happening
rainba · 2 days
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So… what happens if their darling isn’t attracted to men but… WOMEN?! 😳🫣
Just a thought I had for a while! I love all of your posts and your OCs are ADORABLE!!!!!!
-🇰🇷 anon
Luka and Kairos literally crying and shaking….. 
What do you mean you’re attracted to women… And not men!!?!?
。゚・ (>﹏<) ・゚。
In all honesty, I don’t think either one of them would be able to get over it.
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For Kairos, when he first learns that his darling is only attracted to women, he wouldn’t believe it at first. For weeks on end, he tries to delude himself into thinking that you’re lying, only to be hit with the cold hard reality that you’ll just… Never be attracted to him. (T_T)
So– what does he do in response?
Well, he dresses up as a woman, of course! His plan is this: he masquerades as a woman, finds a way to make you fall in love with him, and the moment that you agree to be with him is when he’ll reveal that he’s actually a guy..!
…He hopes that if you fall in love with him first, you’ll be able to ignore the fact that he’s not actually a woman and can make an exception for him! Right..? Right?
If you don’t, he’d end up flying into a panic and would have a total mental breakdown.
“I– I’m sorry I’m not a woman! I… Please, please, w-we’re soulmates! Y-you can’t do this to me!” 
Kairos would be clinging to your legs and begging for you to accept his love. He'll do whatever it takes to have you- even if that results in guilt tripping and blackmail. (つω`。) Even if you're not attracted to men, could you at least, you know... Pretend? Just for him?
He'll settle for you just playing pretend- so long as it's believable.
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As for Luka, he’d be… A little more accepting of the fact that you only like women. Of course he’s absolutely devastated on the inside, but it’s not like he can do anything. He can’t change your sexuality, and he’s not trans, so…
All he can do is accept it. That’s what he tries to tell himself.
…But his obsession runs deep. It refuses to die. Even after you tell him you only like women, he’ll still find himself longing for you– and honestly, it all feels much more intense, now that he knows he truly just can’t have you.
Luka knows it's petty, but he finds himself sabotaging your relationships anyways. He stalks you, fantasizes about you, monopolizes your attention, tries to manipulate you into hating all of your other friends… It’s almost like he just can’t help himself. He feels pathetic, not being able to just handle the hard rejection and move on with his life. He needs you so badly.
This will keep happening until you fully cut Luka out of your life– where instead, he’ll be forced to forever linger on thoughts of you while keeping his distance. Even after you push him away, he still remains madly in love. (╯︵╰,)
Every relationship he tries to have afterwards, he would only be able to think of you, and what could’ve been. He would be the type to accidentally moan your name while he’s fucking somebody else… ^^;;; Sigh.
…If only you had liked men, too. .。・゚゚・(>_<)・゚゚・
Thank you for sending the ask 🇰🇷 anon!!! And TYYYY for liking my stuff + OCs!
(っ˘ω˘ς )
Here's a pic of Kairos dressing up as a woman, hehe.
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wewontbesleeping · 1 year
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when you’re in love, really in love, you always feel like you finally did it, like you cracked the code and Beat The Odds and you found It. Soulmates are real and everything is perfect now. When I fell in love for the first time, I thought “how could anyone ever get divorced? just wait until you get THIS feeling, and then you know it will last forever!” and now I look back into that relationship and think I don’t even recognize either person who was in it. Things break and burn and end and it’s interesting to me to see people say about Taylor and Joe “but she really thought it was forever, something terrible must have happened” and all I can say is that we always do think it’s forever, and frankly people who are in love are not the best judges of reality. I don’t know anything about their relationship and it’s honestly not really my business, but I’m just reflecting on it right now as I think about my own long term relationship and the potential direction it will go.
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eizagonzalezs · 6 months
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It’s 10am, i’m very very tired. and i’m just so angry, trying not to panic that people are dying. and i cant do anything about it. like no i’m not gonna continue my day as planned. A massacre is happening right now.
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scarletwitch1918 · 11 months
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Today was the second birthday this year of a friend that I thought I was really close with that i didn’t get invited to
#birthday#fake friends#friend group#I’ve literally counseled this girl through half her shit this year and then she doesn’t even invite me to her birthday that she invited#people she barely talks to too and then after that she turns around and hangs out with my fucking brother of all people#I can’t wait for a new school next year so I can finally get away from the people who stopped appreciating me a long time ago#I know it sounds kinda selfish but I truly have not done anything (in the last 4 years) to ever hurt or fully disregard them and I really#don’t know what happened#one week we were waking to and from school together everyday and now I feel like I’ve been rejected from our walking group and I’m literally#uncomfortable walking with them in the mornings because they just fully ignore me the entire time#this isn’t even about just the one friend anymore#this is also happening with someone else who was supposed to be my best friend and now she barely talks to me anymore#and like I can accept that we’re not bffs anymore cause it happened a year or two ago so I’ve moved passed it#but she just pretends I don’t exist anymore#we have like three classes together and on snap she got an send it that’s said like tag your fav people on each class#and when I tell you i was in the room with her when she posted I and she didn’t even mention me#istfg#im gonna stop now because this is getting extremely ranty but I can’t really talk to anyone about this irl so this is just my vent space now
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starlooove · 9 months
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Reading isn’t enough I need to start beating white ppls asses
#they’re literally everywhere and so annoying all the time I’m so sick#and it’s the quiet racism that’s killing me#ignoring dogwhistles pretending u don’t understand things that blk ppl are finding issue with gaslighting gaslighting gaslighting#and I get why ppl turn to the concept of religion and the idea that these people are gonna get what they deserve but what about now#what about the people they’re hurting and indoctrinating now#what about all the white folk who sit back and let it happen and feel comfortable in the fact that at least they’re not saying slurs#and laws keep getting passed that are literally getting us killed and y’all are making up that blk women are mad about kanekalon fuck y’all#And the LEAST you could do is sit and listen and learn but you need to share ur damn opinion on everything u hear and see#even when u know u don’t know shit#and don’t get me started on fandom it’s supposed to be fun here but y’all are so hyper focused on white characters that u genuinely don’t#see ur own racism#and some of you will see posts about it and scroll on and be guilty or think ur excluded#none of u are excluded this about all of u who make one post or reblog a few about fandom racism and go back to taking character traits from#nonwhite characters to make ur white faves look cooler#this is about everyone who thinks they’re some sort of feminist bc they think propping a female character on such a high pedestal nobody can#touch her isn’t falling into racist tropes at all#like sometimes I genuinely hate y’all so much it makes me sick#so tempted to tag every fandom tag I can find here#but y’all will either ignore it or gaslight blk ppl AGAIN like ALWAYS bc that’s what y’all do#dc#dc comics#tim Drake#bc anyone scrolling through this tag needs to see it I promise#Duke Thomas#Cass Caín#bc y’all pretend ur not racist towards her when y’all treat her like a walking dragon lady kys 💀#Damian Wayne#so sorry to Damian stans faced with ppl who can’t read 💔#and thats It.only main nonwhite ppl in batfam.and u still manage to be this racist.except Dick but u only sexualize him Abt it 💀#see how I turned to fandom to cope with the real shit and it still fucking sucks 💀 I hope some of y’all die genuinely
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zreamy · 5 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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steddiealltheway · 3 months
Text
Eddie’s having a strange day.
For once in his life, he’s not being treated like absolute shit by all the dumbass jocks of Hawkins High School.
In fact, they’re not even engaging with him at all. They’re looking at him, but they’re just not saying anything. Even when Eddie pretends to drop his stuff in front of Billy Hargrove, he doesn’t even laugh at him.
And while this should feel like the best day of Eddie’s life, he has an underlying feeling that this is all very very wrong.
Then, he knows the universe has decided to fuck with him or something when Tommy Hagan meets him at his “business transaction” table and instead of buying anything, he leans in and whispers, “Meet me at skull rock after school today.” And fucking plants a quick kiss to his cheek.
And hey. What the hell was that?
Yes, he’s seen the way Tommy looks at Steve Harrington to know there’s no way that there’s not a part of him that wants him in a way that is definitely not platonic.
But Eddie isn’t Steve Harrington (who makes every guy feel a little bit gay) he’s Eddie Munson. And this does not happen to him.
But, he reasons with himself that, hey, maybe he’s in a coma or something and this is his only chance to see what life would be like if he was… liked? That doesn’t seem to be the right word, but he doesn’t know how else to describe it.
Or maybe the universe decided he needs a break from his horrible second senior year.
Doubtful.
Nonetheless, he decides what the hell, why not go to skull rock and see what Tommy Hagan wants, despite everything in his being screaming THIS IS A BAD IDEA!!!
And a few feet into the forest, he hears the quick crunching of leaves and sticks as something approaches him and is nearly startled out of his skin by Steve Harrington of all people.
“You need to leave,” Steve pants out.
Eddie glances around and wonders if this is real.
“Eddie, I’m serious. You need to leave. Right now.”
Eddie crosses his arms. “Why?”
Steve sighs and runs his hands over his face. “Oh my god you remind me of Henderson. Okay. The basketball team is planning to ambush you because Billy thought it was a good idea or something. I don’t know. I overheard it in the locker room. And you have to leave.”
Eddie takes a moment to let it all sink in. And yeah, it adds up with the rest of the day, but also… “Why should I trust you?”
“Huh?”
“You’re Steve Harrington. You’re on the basketball team. What if you’re part of the trap?”
Steve shakes his head. “I’m not really friends with any of them.” His head whips around when a cracking noise sounds out a good distance away. “Let’s go,” Steve says, grabbing Eddie’s hand and tugging him away.
Eddie plants his feet and stays in place. “You’re going to have to prove to me in some way that you’re not in on this.”
Steve runs a hand through his hair and pinches his lips together. “I don’t know how!”
“Then tell me why you’re going against all of them to help me.”
Steve’s brows furrow for a moment before he puts his hands on his hip. “Because I’ve been on the receiving end of a Billy attack and that was before he lost the little control he had over his sort of sister that like kept him weirdly grounded or something. But ever since, he’s been itching for a fight, okay? And he doesn’t hold back. He could kill you.”
Half of it doesn’t make sense to Eddie, but something about Steve’s tone makes him believe that he’s telling the truth. But there’s still a small part of him that wants to doubt him.
“Kiss me.”
“What?” Steve asks, exasperated.
“If you’re in on it, you won’t be able to. Tommy barely even got my cheek-”
“He did what?”
“And,” Eddie continues, ignoring Steve, “if you’re not in on it, you’ll know that this means literally nothing to the both of us, and I’ll run back to my van immediately.”
Steve stares at him for a second as if he’s out of his mind - which he is, really - before stepping closer and asking, “You’ll really leave? Straight away? No poking around the woods because you’re curious?”
“Yeah,” he confirms with a nod. He smiles at Steve’s hesitation and says, “So, you are in on i-”
Only for Steve to quickly close the distance between them, weaving his hands into Eddie’s hair and pulling him close as he kisses him deeply, lingering for a few moments before pulling away, breath coming out heavier than before.
They both stare at each other for a moment, neither of them saying a word until another crunching sound appears closer than before and a voice calls out, “Eddie?”
Steve takes Eddie hand and runs, only for Eddie to pull him the other way toward his van, still slightly not trusting him although he’s pretty sure Steve’s tongue may have grazed the inside of his mouth. But that’s a thought for a later day.
As soon as the van is in sight, Eddie lets out a deep breath, happy to see it’s untouched before he runs and unlocks it, yelling for Steve to get in before starting it and taking off.
Once he’s on the road, he turns to Steve and asks, “You think we lost them?”
Steve nods and sighs, “I hope they don’t find my car though.”
“Where is it?” Eddie asks, quick to turn around when Steve directs him.
He’s not far from where Eddie was parked before, but with the risk of being discovered, Eddie is quick to stop his car and tell Steve, “Go!”
But Steve takes a moment and looks back at him, and Eddie’s suddenly scared that maybe he read this all wrong and Steve really is in on the trap. But then Steve asks, “And what if I asked you to convince me to go?”
It takes Eddie a second to register what the hell he’s talking about before he’s glancing back at the trees, searching for any movement before leaning over and breathing out, “I have got to be in a coma or something.”
There’s a brief sharp pain in his arm that has him yelping before he registers that Steve pinched him. “Maybe not,” Steve says, leaning closer to close the distance between them again, deepening the kiss in the short amount of time they have and quickly pulling away, leaving Eddie desperate for more.
“I’ll see you around. Thanks for listen to me,” Steve says before hopping out of the van and running to his car.
Eddie takes a moment to breathe before realizing he needs to get the hell out of there, and he quickly speeds off wondering if this is real life.
-:-:-:-:-:-
The next day, things go back to the way they used to be, but any time Tommy sees him, he turns an ugly shade of red which is accompanied by laughs of, “Eddie Munson stood you up.”
It’s nice at first, but two periods in, he’s already had enough of the dumb jabs people take at him until someone knocks a notebook out of his hands and it goes flying toward a nice blue pair of Adidas.
Eddie bends down at the same time as the other person does, and they both grab the book. When Eddie glances up, he makes eye contact with none other than Steve who gives him a small, private smile.
“Harrington,” Tommy says in an accusatory tone that has Steve frowning before standing back up, leaving the notebook in Eddie’s hand.
As he walks away, he turns back and gives him an apologetic smile that makes Eddie wonder if this is what Romeo and Juliet felt like.
The thought makes his nose wrinkle up before he stands up and goes about his day as if he doesn’t know what it’s like to be kissed by Steve Harrington. And a big part of him hopes that maybe he’ll get another weird day where Steve Harrington plays hero for him. And another part of him hopes that if he really is in a coma, he’ll wake up with Steve waiting for him on the other side.
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hansolen · 4 months
Text
one more love song?
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pairing ⇾ luke castellan x hades’ daughter reader (gendered stuff isn’t mentioned anywhere in the post so it can be read as gn)
word count ⇾ 3k
summary ⇾ luke is a simp, tries to confess, you guys share earphones and sit near the lake at night. the moon loves you 🫶
author’s note ⇾ so most of this is just happened to be written as luke admiring the reader rather than what i was actually going to go for, but i’m really happy with how it turned out :) hope you enjoy it as well 💌 wrote this all in one setting. when inspo hits.. it hits like a truck 🚛 this one is for my quiet people, and maybe a little self indulgent. guilty as charged your honour. no use of y/n.
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you had a thing for luke castellan, and he had a thing for you too. it was no secret to anyone. but none of the other campers understood why you both preferred to dance around each other’s feelings rather than addressing them. even though everyone could feel the immense tension you both carried around whenever you were near each other, no one chose to mention it. it would be like taking a gun and pointing the muzzle right at ones own head — it was a death sentence really, hearing you both deny it. so they all just went along with ignoring it like you both pretended to do.
you were the daughter of hades, the king of the underworld and part of the trinity. that definitely added a little intimidation to your already mysterious aura. luke on the other hand was a possessive guy, even if he didn’t show it. sure, he was extremely confident, and even a little egotistical - yes, but all for the right reasons of course (as per him). but he was possessive nonetheless. that’s why it killed him inside each day that he couldn’t call you his, and himself as yours.
he really didn’t like anyone else approaching you with any unwanted intentions. though, don't get him wrong, he's well aware that you could protect yourself. hell, you could protect the entire camp just by yourself alone, but still — he felt a pang of jealously whenever some apollo’s kid talked with you for too long. or when your discussions with some guy from the hephaestus’ cabin were too long. he knew that you guys were just discussing your plans for some of their inventions and how you could help by designing their ideas into structural sketches. afterall, you were good with sketches, a hobby of yours, those from cabin 9 made sure to utilise to their fullest. even though he knew it all, he still felt some unwanted feelings swirl inside him.
he wanted to confess to you, oh he wanted to do that so badly. but he just didn't know how to.. you didn't seem the kind who’d like the usual route. for the sake of olympus itself - you didn’t even send him any signs, other than meeting back his longing gaze with just as much passion. he knew there had to be something between you two. there’s no way it could be all in his head.
but you — you never tried to make the first move, shit, you didn’t make any moves at all. and luke knows he’s a confident guy, he knows he’s amazing and all that glory speech he gives around to the new comers but oh you. you just make him rethink it all. he doesn’t know how to act around you - he feels so different around you.
as if you put some kind of spell on him that makes him loose this carefully handcrafted personality, his façade. and he's back to being the kid he was - just trying to prove himself somehow in some way. but at least you never abandoned him.. nor did you ever make him feel unwanted. unlike his.. his dad. he doesn’t need to impress you, you’ve made that clear with your actions. but still he - he really wants to.
𓇚
he recalls back when you still pretended to be unclaimed and stayed at the hermes cabin. though later on (like a whole month later) everyone found out that you knew your dad was hades and you shifted to the newly made hades cabin. it happened in such a funny manner where you stated it to the suprised chiron like it was just another fun fact about you. totally not some very critical and important information. camp half-blood having a kid of one of the three and not just any but of hades, who was always so adamant on not sending his kids to camp that the gods had an entire incident regarding it. but here you were.
anyway that’s not the point. he just really liked you and had felt a pull towards you since the beginning. he observed you from afar during your first few weeks at camp. when it was your third week at camp and you had developed the constant habit of staying up every night and sneaking out. he followed, ofcourse he was just being a good head counselor. afterall till you were in the hermes cabin you were someone he had to make sure followed the rules or whatever. he didn’t care for that much, he just wanted to know what you were always up to.
you always hid away by the time he followed you out. he had made sure that this week, this day, he’d finally follow you without you hiding away in the shadows. of course you weren’t dumb either. you could feel another shadow added to the ones you were controlling, and you felt like having a little fun with the castellan boy. so you let him follow you. (and luke found out about that fact weeks later, and safe to say he was annoyed that he wasn’t slick enough. though he got back on you, he showed you just how smooth he could be during sword fighting practice. spoiler: by the end of the match you were under him with a sword pressed on your neck and his smirk making you feel things.)
back to what happened on your third week at camp - as he followed you he realised you were headed towards the lake. oh so this was your favourite spot. he looked at you from afar, you looked breathtaking.
the moonlight shined on your figure sitting by the lake. you were probably listening to some music, since you had your earphones in.
he held his breath, he wanted to carve this scene in his memory forever. you truly looked like a goddess, the serene view and a serene beauty (you). a perfect combination indeed.
after giving himself some pep talk mentally and encouraging himself to actually go to you, he finally did. and oh boy was he glad he did - because that was the start of your friendship, and something more.
he still fondly remembers how you smiled when he finally came and sat beside you.
“finally came out of your hiding spot, castellan?” you said in a light tone. “you knew?” he asked suprised, but not really. “i know everything that goes in the shadows.” you said and smiled while taking off one earphone and handing it out to him. he took it gratefully.
that day you shared an earphone with him and in return took a piece of his heart with you.
that was the beginning of whatever the hell was going on between you and luke castellan. he understood later on what you had meant by the shadows comment when a week later you had casually revealed who your father was and shifted cabins, much to luke’s displeasure.
but you guys remained friends nonetheless and continued to keep each other company on moonlit nights.
𓇚
he still remembers when you first came to camp. you were so eerily quiet. your presence drew him to you like a moth to a flame. your eyes felt like they held galaxies and whenever you met his gaze he felt his heart could explode. though you didn't smile often, but oh god’s when you did grin at some stupid lame joke he made, or when something silly happened, he just found himself falling deeper and deeper in love with you.
though he notices. he notices how you keep your smiles to yourself and put a hand over your mouth whenever you do laugh. the reason? he truly doesn’t understand. because why in the world would you do that? you’re the most gorgeous being to have graced this earth, why would you not let him get addicted to your smiles and the sound of your melodious laughter which is sweet like nectar and has the warmth of ambrosia. as he knew it was a rare sight, he made sure to capture the memory to replay it in his head whenever he misses you.
you're so beautiful to him and your presence is so comforting. the deathly touch your aura carries has makes it all the more breathtaking. oh he's in it bad. he knows it.
𓇚
both your secret meet ups began increasing as weeks went by. you both talked about everything under the sun (or the moon, in your case). and even though you weren’t much of a talker when you were in groups during the day, luke felt glad that atleast when you were with him you spoke your heart out.
you made him feel so much at ease. even with all his responsibilities at camp and his plans.. and everything else that eats up his soul — in moments such as these, he feels like just another teenage boy. not the kid who got abandoned by his parents, not the teenager who had to protect his friends and had to prove something to the gods, not the head counselor and the greatest swordsman to have been in 300 hundred years, but just- just another teenage boy, a boy in love. oh he loved you. so much.
and that's why he decided he was finally going to confess to you tonight. he was going to set up a beautiful moment and hold your hand while looking in your eyes and confess how much he adores you and finally ask you to be his.
he felt a little nervous, which is so unlike him. c’mon, he has fought innumerable monsters and survived so many deathly quests, how is finally telling you what he’s been wanting to since forever making him more nervous than either of those situations? oh the things you do to him..
when he reached there you were already sitting near the lake at your favourite spot. as soon as he came closer, you turned your head towards him with a soft smile and said, “hey you” “hey me” he replied. he doesn’t miss the way you put an automatic smile on his face, as he sits beside you. you both sit in comfortable silence, your bodies making contact from the shoulders. neither of you move away, finding comfort in one another’s presence and touch.
being a demigod was.. anything but a normal experience to say the least. but finding someone who makes you feel.. more closer to the human part of yourself was something not everyone could find. but you both were so glad you did with one another.
as moments passed by, luke felt you lean your head on his shoulder. he relaxed into your touch as he looked down at your face to find your eyes closed. he knew you weren’t sleeping, just resting. he found himself forming a small smile as he looked at you.
then he started, “you know, i wanted to tell you something today.” you hummed in response waiting for him to continue. “i..” he felt his throat dry up. it’s always so easy to talk to you, so why is it that right now he feels unable to form words? your presence is always so calm and serene so why does his heart feel like it’s going a million miles per hour?
“hey.. hey look at me” you said in your calm voice as you softly held his face. he met your eyes, and oh he swears he could just get lost in the galaxy that lays within your eyes. you look at him with you sweet smile and say, “you can tell me anything, you know?” “i know.” his reply is almost immediate. you just smile at that “then go on”.
he closes his eyes to compose himself. he knows that he doesn’t need to pretend with you. but he also wants to tell you everything he feels for you and how you’ve taken all over his body, mind and soul. but he can’t formulate them into words. he just— “i love you too castellan.” “what” “what? you were trying to confess right? i only helped you.” you said smiling softly at him. “i.. well i..” he was dumbfounded. he had thought of so many ways this would probably go and the many ways he could say it but you.. you said it first.
“is that a pout?” you ask with a giggle. he feigns offense, “i do not pout.” “oh that was definitely a pout.” you teased. “it wasn't.” “oh it so was.” he rolls his eyes. “whatever. i just wanted to make it romantic or something i don't know. i mean i even got you a cassette tape with songs i dedicated to you and—” “you dedicated songs to me? and got them in a cassette tape? how even- when did you get the time to get that done? did you go out of camp for-” you said suprise clear in your voice but he interrupted you. “well obviously i dedicate songs to you infact they were so many that i had to choose the best of the best. and how i got the cassette and the player is just part of the trade secrets, darling.” he winked. and you just giggled and kissed him.
luke had imagined kissing you before, but it was never as close to the real deal. he was addicted to say the least. your lips tasted so sweet and felt so soft. for being the kid with the aura of death, you sure brought back life to him.
by now you were on his lap with his arms wrapped around you. you both were just sitting on the grass and taking in each other's presence and feeling peaceful with how close your hearts were.
slowly you took out your earphones from your pocket and gave him one wire. “so, one more love song?”
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© hansolen do not repost, translate and post anywhere else.
author's note ⇾ aand that's the end haha. hope you liked it <3 this is my first fic ever like everr and i didn't even think i’d be able to write something that i would actually wanna post, but something in me lit up when i saw my favourite childhood book series was finally getting the adaptation it deserved and then this came out of it <3 would love to know your thoughts on it.
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avtrbee · 10 months
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the prince
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✢summary: what happens when your husband brings home a son that is not yours?
✢tags: arranged marriage gojo satoru x reader, reader is a clan kid, she’s v traditional, obvious cat and jon snow references
✢tw: implications of cheating, mentioned abuse, misogyny ig
✢ a/n: i’m not gonna lie to you guys, i know i’ve been a while and im really ashamed that i come back with something that i believe this isn’t my best work at all. i had this prompt in my head for a long time and i have wanted to publish this ever since. always love hearing from all of you and i’d like to get some feedback as well <33
You were a clan kid fortunate enough to be born with the clan’s cursed technique but unfortunate enough to be a woman. Your childhood tutors had drilled the duties of wives in your head, and had made you comfortable with the idea of an arranged marriage. You pride yourself as a good traditional daughter, whose greatest honor would be marrying your husband.
Never in your life did you imagine yourself caring for a child that is not yours.
That was, of course, until you met your husband.
You have heard of Gojo Satoru before and fought him a few times during sister-school events, but never in your life did you think he’d be who you were destined for. Still, he surprised you.
“You are my wife, my equal,” he promises you at the night of your wedding. The ceremony was over and the guests have gone home. You have said your vows in front of the gods and they have bounded you to this man.
He drags you off to bed and makes you sit on the floor with him.
Satoru looks at you with the moon shining on him making him look like an ethereal god. And to you, he was. Which is why you tilt your head at his statement. “Gojo-sama, I do not understand-”
“Satoru,” he says. “I am your husband, you should call me by my name y’know.” His voice is light and teasing, underplaying the reality of the situation. “I don’t want a slave. I want a confidant. A partner. I need someone. Do you understand?”
You nod. Strangely you do. “We must protect each other.”
You were both very lonely people thrust into a union none of you asked for. There are targets on your backs for sins you cannot control. You were alone, but not anymore.
Your husband nods and he takes his glasses off. You realize for the nth time that Satoru is a pretty, pretty man. His blue eyes shine and twinkle like the stars above.
He reaches for your hand- a strange gesture but you allow it anyway. “I will do right by you,” he promises. In his mind he remembers his mother, the one who loves too much but is loved so less. Like her, Satoru’s marriage is arranged by the clan. But he will not be his father.
He is a man of his word.
The next morning you find yourself waking to an empty bed with a smell of burning food. You catch your husband defeated before the stove with burnt scrambled egg on the table. “This is what couples do, right?”
You stare at him, simply horrified that you had failed to wake up first. You were supposed to cook him breakfast, not the other way around.
Satoru catches your expression. “Hey! It’s not that bad!” He pokes the pathetic excuse of a scrambled egg. His mother had always cooked for the family, it shouldn’t have been this hard. “…right?”
You ban him from your kitchen.
He takes you to the school next. You walk behind him, as is the norm, but Satoru makes a face that pushes you to stay beside him. His voice echoes in your head, you are my wife, my equal.
The weather was perfect, but he fusses about the fact that you decided to wear a sleeveless sundress that he deems inappropriate for the wind.
“Are you sure you’re not cold?”
“Yes, Satoru.”
Satoru’s eyes narrow suspiciously, like he does not believe you. He reaches over and takes your hand in his. His face morphs to an expression of victory. “Ha! Your hands are cold. You’re such a bad liar, Y/N.” He spits, but his voice lacks venom. You pretend to ignore his poor excuse to hold your hand. Deep inside you like it. Romance is for fiction and some anime you were lucky enough to watch. A distinguished member of your the Gojo clan does not deserve it, but your husband is a romantic.
He stops you from walking out of the shade of the trees and into the sunshine. He opens his tote bag and points to a closed umbrella. “Do you need this? To protect you from- y’know.”
His points up to the sun.
Against your will you find his needless worrying endearing. He does not know his role as a husband well, but he is trying. When you finally arrive inside the Tokyo school, his hand is still clasped in your. Satoru is loud and proud when he introduces you to everyone, even if you have done nothing to deserve such pride. His co-workers pity you for being married to him and offer their condolences. Satoru protests strongly.
“Y/N loves spending time with me!” he says, stomping his feet like a child. He tugs your hand and looks at you in support. “Right?”
You smile and nod. You do. You wonder if you may love him someday.
-
The night is dark, and Satoru is not home yet. It has been a slow 8 months since your marriage. The ladies from your clan were wrong. Your husband is not cruel. He does not scold you if you use your cursed technique even when you accidentally use it on him.
You have never been someone good with words, so you decide to bake him a simple carrot cake. Your husband has a sweet tooth and he has a penchant of liking things better if it came from you.
You had only just finished adding icing the cake when you felt Satoru’s cursed energy through the door. You take a look at your cake one last time before heading towards the door to greet him.
Traditionally a wife must wait for her husband to enter in the middle of the room kneeling for supplication- a tradition most ingrained in your head more than most. As a compromise, Satoru suggested to have you greet him by the door instead because- “The first thing I want to see when I get home is your cute face. Obviously.”
You dust off imaginary crumbs off your hands by wiping it on your pants before sliding the door open.
“Welcome ho-”
In front of you, Satoru looks cold. You wonder if this is how others see him. He looks down at you with a cold gaze, He does not tremble. There is a child in his arms.
Both child and Satoru looks at you with twin cold eyes. You shiver. “He’s mine.”
You hear maids scuffle from behind you, but you do not care. The child innocently rests his cheek on Satoru’s shoulder looking at you.
There is no doubt the child is his. Your husband’s hair is on his head and dear god- their eyes. They have the same eyes.
In your head you hear the ladies of your clan again. Stand tall, Y/N. They may have their mistresses, but you will always be his true wife.
Of course you knew about Satoru’s womanizer past- present. Are you upset? Are you angry? You do not know, truly. You are simply confused.
Your clan’s ladies have prepared you for worst; what to do when your husband brings home another woman, what to say if they came home violent, where to go if you are too broken and beaten to sleep beside him. But what if your husband brings home a son that is not yours?
There is a pain in your chest you do not understand. This is expected! Men cannot be held down by just their wives. Did you expect him to be different? A cold fury washes over you
“Welcome home.” You finish instead.
-
check out my masterlist, and don’t forget to lmk how i can improve this fic <33
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charliemwrites · 5 months
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Awooooooo!
Your dog is weird. Just.. just weird. Like, all dogs are weird. They have their quirks and their oddities, silly babies in fluffy bodies.
Johnny though…
He snuggles up in your bed every night; you don’t even bother trying to kick him out. He’s presses up tight against you, head almost on your pillow. Have to start sleeping in a shirt because one too many unfortunately placed cold nose bumps…. Yeah. But that’s fine. The fuzzy space heater is worth it.
(So what if you sort of wake up sometimes and half-dream its skin you’re snuggled up to. If you imagine a more human rasp to the quiet snores by your ear. If the tongue on your cheek is softer and smaller than you’re used to….
Your dating life has been dry for some time.)
Johnny pees in every room of your house at least once, but that’s not entirely surprising - he’s an intact male, after all. (Something you’re trying to, heh, fix. Though the appointment mysteriously keeps getting moved or cancelled.) thankfully, though, once he’s “marked his territory” he starts asking to go outside.
And that’s where the weirdness begins.
The first time you let him out off leash, he shoots off into the woods and only returns once he’s done. You panic, feel so stupid and irresponsible, near tears by the time he gets back. When he sees you upset, say on the porch steps, he darts to your side and leans into you until you calm down.
You stop worrying so much about his little “trips”. Means you dont have to clean up after him to keep the yard tidy after all.
The first time he bounds off into the woods and doesn’t come back after a few minutes, you almost go searching. But.., but well he’s a good boy. An hour later he comes back, scratching at the door.
You’re not sure what he’s up to and it makes you anxious. Don’t like the idea of an “outdoor” dog. All of yours have been in-home pets kept in sight at all times. You’re scared Johnny’s going to get hurt or bitten or hit by a car.
But he always comes back healthy whole.
One hour turns into two, then three. Entire mornings, only returning in the evening to climb into bed. Eventually a whole day. You have someone install a doggy door big enough for Johnny to slip through so that he can come and go as he pleases.
You get used to having a pet that’s only around sometimes, though you sniffle that you miss him when he’s gone. As if understanding, he’ll always lick at you, comforting.
The other weird thing - he demands to climb into bed while you’re doing “self care”. Again, dogs don’t get human social boundaries. He’s allowed on the bed so why is it that he wouldn’t be allowed up even if it’s not bedtime? It’s understandable dog logic, even if you have to stop the first several times it happens.
Keeping him out isn’t an option. Even if you manage to shut the bedroom door on him before he wriggles inside, he makes such a ruckus. Barking, howling, knocking over the trash and scratching at the door. You almost step directly into a puddle of pee once.
You just keep the lights off, close your eyes, and try to ignore the odd brush of fur or gust of air from his nose. Pretend he’s not there at all; and not staring the way he tends to.
Not getting off just isn’t an option. You make your peace with your dog too dumb to even turn away.
(You also learn very quickly to wash your toys as soon as you’re done. Can’t even wait to catch your breath. Calling him nasty makes his tail wag. You know it’s not reasonable to think he’s doing it on purpose.)
“Johnny, drop it!”
Instead of doing that, he drops his front half low, a lacy black pair of underwear in his teeth. He snatched it right out of your laundry basket while you were trying to start the washer.
“I’m going to turn you into a pair of boots. Put those down!”
Chasing a giant wolf-dog for your panties is ill-advised but what are you gonna do? Let him shred your underwear?
“I wanted to wear those out tonight, you bastard!”
You’re supposed to have a date. At this rate, you won’t even be able to shower, never mind get ready. Johnny’s been a nuisance all day, ever since you got off the phone with your mom this morning, updating her about your life and plans for the evening.
Determined, you give up and go to finish the laundry - only to hear a crash and a yelp. Johnny’s knocked over the mirror and stepped in the glass.
“Oh, baby boy,” you groan. “Dammit, John-Bon.”
You text your date for a rain check, then call ahead for the emergency vet. Huh… your first aid kit is much better stocked than you remember.
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amuseoffyre · 9 months
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I’m emotionally ruined by the fact that Aziraphale hasn’t broken out of his heavenly conditioning. He still loves doing good. He gets happy when people tell him he’s an angel and says “it’s nice to tell people about the good things you’ve done now that I’m not reporting to Heaven”. He will literally put himself in harm’s way to make sure he does the Good and Right thing.
It can’t be understated how much Heaven’s influence still impacts on him. Aziraphale has been created, ordained and conditioned to believe it and he can’t just switch it off or walk away. Crowley didn’t get the choice. He was Fallen. He was kicked out and - as per the rules of toxic and terrifying cults - Aziraphale was always told for centuries and millennia, Falling was the worst thing that could happen. If you’re bad, you’ll be forced out. If you’re bad, you’re not one of Us. You’re one of Them.
When he did something he perceived as Right (ie. saving innocent children from death), but knew it wasn’t what Heaven intended, he broke down. Crowley found him a crying, shaking wreck afterwards because he was so convinced he was Evil. He was so convinced he was going to be dragged to Hell and that he was now a demon because he did one thing that saved some children but because it wasn’t a specific directive, it was Bad.
It shapes so much about him and it’s why the whole series looks like he’s having so much fun doing silly human things, but there’s this brittleness to it. He’s happy and excited and he’s doing his human-life things and having a lovely time, but he’s also constantly stressed because of the Need To Do Good. From the moment Gabriel turns up, he’s a nervous wreck and is trying to hide it by Doing Good, by Solving the Problem, by Fixing Things, by being so active and reactive rather than letting himself think about it. It’s a sign of exactly how frantic he is that he starts giving away his books and letting humans touch them.
Watch his face when the Archangels show up unexpectedly: that isn’t joy. That’s blind terror. He’s so afraid of doing the wrong thing in Heaven’s eyes, even though he made the active choice to do so because it was the Right thing to do. He’s a Guardian and he will protect, but he is so very afraid of the repercussions, even now. 
At the end of S1, Crowley said “they’re gearing up for the big one” so Aziraphale’s not oblivious. He knows a big one is coming. He knows something worse than the Antichrist will be on its way. And he’s trying so hard to pretend that everything is normal and fine and if he ignores all the looming bad stuff, it won’t happen. If we don’t say anything about it, nothing has to change.
But then the changes come knocking at his door holding a box and the choice is gone. He can keep trying to blinker himself to it, but then there are angels and demons in the bookshop and he’s had to use his halo and everything is falling apart.
So when he realises that he can get himself into a position where he can guarantee those repercussions won’t happen to Crowley? He will absolutely take it. He says himself “I don’t want to go back to Heaven”, but the instant the Metatron offers him a free pass for Crowley, to take Crowley out of both Heaven and Hell’s sightlines, to keep him safe (Another bee inside the hive, if you will), no wonder he grabs it with both hands.
The tragedy is that Crowley thinks that when they saved the world together, that was the end of Heaven’s influence in Aziraphale. When he was cast out the split between him and Heaven was sharp and clean. He doesn’t - he can’t - understand how deeply it has tangled around Aziraphale. It’s built into Aziraphale’s entire being and unravelling it isn’t that simple. Aziraphale’s trauma is a horrible, terrible Gordian knot and Crowley can’t understand that he couldn’t simply cut through it, because that’s just not how Aziraphale works.
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xzaddyzanakinx · 1 month
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first of all, i fucking love ani being a stalker:(
and what about bestfriend!anakin? but like, he's a bit creepy. he just knows he's been in love with you since you two were kids. you're his first love. you were just to dumb to see it. and he was always there to take care of you and hug you when your boyfriends dump you after he secretly threatens them because no one is too good for you. no one but him.
also, have you never noticed that some of your panties are missing?
I will totally do bestie!Ani. He’d be so sweet but so mean simultaneously.
Warnings: controlling behavior, gaslighting, verbal/emotional abuse/condescension, gen. smut, rough foreplay, hair pulling, dubcon, slut shaming?, kinda innocent/definitely bratty & naive reader, arguing, possessiveness, ownership, misogyny
“Oh for the love of-“ Anakin grabbed your wrist and yanked you roughly away from the handsy jock who’d lured you to the living room couch at this frat house party that you just ‘had to go to’.
“Ani that’s rude! You can’t just do that!” He huffed, protesting physically by stubbing up and trying not to move. “At least let me say goodbye! He was being nice!”
“No! You’re drunk and he’s just talking to you because he thinks you’ll be an easy lay.” He snapped, changing tactics and gripping the back of your neck to steer you toward the door.
“You just let him put his arm around you and squeeze your ass! Are you fucking daft? At this point you’re just asking for it.” He sneered, opening the passenger door of his truck and lifting you up. He reach across you and buckled you in just like he always did.
“Is that what you want?” He asked angrily, throwing the truck in reverse the moment he slammed his own door shut.
“No!” You started crying, your bottom lip wobbling when you realized Anakin was right. “I’m sorry Ani! D-don’t be mad! Please, I’m sorry!” You sniffled.
He let you sob, apologize, beg, and grovel the entire way back to your shared apartment. He got out of the truck silently and walked around to your side, helping you out and shutting your door. His hand on the small of your back as he walked one step behind you until you reached your front door and stepped inside.
“Ani please! Talk to me.” You whined, the silent treatment killed you everytime he did it. “This isn’t fair! I’m sorry I was being s-so stupid! I’m sorry!”
Anakin ignored you, pretending you weren’t even there. He didn’t even miss a stride when you stood in front of him defiantly. He just side stepped you and played it off as though he meant to do it, he scooped up a throw blanket and sat down on the couch.
“Fine!” You stomped off to your bedroom and got changed into a comfy nightie, pouting and sniffling away the remaining tears.
He was really, really pushing it with the silent treatment this time. It’s been almost three hours. It’s 11:00pm and you’ve padded around the kitchen, slamming cabinets as you loudly made yourself a snack. You practically tossed the heavy ceramic plate onto the coffee table with a clatter. You’d tried all your tactics that normally have him holding you, coddling you and comforting you while you apologized profusely. Nothing was working.
You sat down in his lap and blocked his view of the Tv, he was completely unfazed. He simply pulled out his phone instead.
That was the last straw.
“This isn’t fair!” You shrieked, standing up suddenly and pointing your finger in his face. “You’re being an ass! What happened wasn’t my fault!”
His jaw tightened and he struggled not to react, you could tell, his nostrils flared and his tongue poked at the inside of his cheek.
“I don’t understand why you’re acting like this.” You scoffed continuing to chide him animatedly.
Until you said the wrong thing. Oh, you really, really fucked up royally. You’d never seen him so angry. Livid. Livid was a better word.
He swatted your hand away the moment those words left your lips: “You don’t own me. You can’t tell me what to do!”
“I don’t?” He sneered, standing up and using his height to his advantage, towering over you. “Are you sure?”
“What? Yes I’m sure!” You huffed.
“You ungrateful brat.” He snapped. “You depend on me for everything. You live in my apartment. You need me to provide for you: food, clothes, the stupid shit you just have to get everytime we go to the fucking store. You’re worse than a child. I’ve spoiled you until I’ve ruined you. Without me, you’d be hopeless.”
“You know nothing about the real world because I’ve coddled you for years. You’ve never had a job. I do all your homework because your tiny little girl brain can’t handle more than a few words at a time. Fuck! I do everything for you! When was the last time you tied your own shoes?”
“You think I don’t own you?” He growled, ignoring your whimper as your lip trembled. “I do own you.”
“You belong to me.” He scowled. “Why do you think you don’t have a fucking boyfriend, why no one has ever asked you out since fucking freshman year of highschool? Why do you think the only attention you get is from a random creep while you’re wasted and wandered off from me?”
“Everyone else knows you’re mine. Everyone but you.” He yelled. “I’ve spent my life bending over backwards for you! You fucking stupid spoiled bitch!”
He laughed throwing his hands up and running them through his hair.
“The sad thing is: I can’t even blame you for being so goddamn useless. It’s my fault.” He said angrily. “It’s my fault for treating you like a fucking princess your whole life. I’ve waited on you hand and foot for the entirety of my existence.”
You stood there motionless. Mouth gaping in shock, your eyes dry of tears because… how do you even react to this response? It was as if he’d caused you to completely fawn, your gaze fixed on him as your brain raced to process his words.
“You don’t have anything to say?” He scoffed, rubbing his face before snapping his fingers in your face. “Hello? Earth to princess.”
“I love you! I fucking love you.” He yelled and that startled you out of your stupor.
“Love me?” You echoed.
“Yes, you fucking dumbass.” He groaned.
“You love me love me?” You asked, shocked that you’d somehow been so oblivious. Maybe it was because he was right, he’d always treated you this way. You were just to stupid to understand why.
“God.” He grumbled, grabbing a fist full of your hair with his left hand and forcing you down over the armrest of the couch. “I love you. You love me too don’t you?”
“Y-yes.” You nodded, admitting it aloud for the first time.
“Of course you fucking do.” He said in a softer tone, though his actions didn’t mirror it. He roughly pulled down your panties and let them fall to the floor.
“You’re mine aren’t you? I own you. Right?” He demanded, his rough fingertips gently gliding back and forth across your dripping slit. “Fuck. You don’t even have to answer that.” He groaned through gritted teeth.
He swirled his finger around your entrance before dipping inside and removing his finger just as quickly, bringing it to your lips and shoving it in your mouth.
“Suck it clean.” He ordered. “You wouldn’t be so fuckin’ wet if I didn’t own you. Right?”
You simply nodded, your brain addled with the onslaught of information that it struggled to keep up with. You really were useless.
“I’ve been patient.” He said slowly, his tone low and gravely as he unbuckled his belt with one hand, his other keeping it’s place in your hair. “I’ve waited for you to realize it on your own.”
“That was my mistake.” He sighed, unzipping his pants and letting them fall. “I should’ve known you’d need me to spell it out for you, just like with everything else.”
“Well this time I’m gonna show you.” He said sternly, leaving no room for negotiation. “You want that don’t you? You want my cock?”
“Uh huh.” You nodded, pushing your ass up alittle higher.
“See? Mine.” He chuckled. “Even after all that, you’re still my obedient little puppy aren’t you?”
“Yeah.” You nodded, too distracted by his cockhead rubbing firmly through your folds to collect your slick.
“You know that’s why I call you puppy right?” He snickered. “Cause you’re my bitch.”
You whimpered, ashamed that you found it incredibly attractive.
“Fuck. So goddamn needy.” He laughed, pumping his cock a few times before lining himself up. “Is my little puppy ready for me? Ready for me to fuck this pussy til’ all you have left in that dumb little brain is me?”
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veethefreeelf · 4 months
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Love is a strong word - Y.JH
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This is part 2 to ‘Hate is a strong word’ I’M SORRY it took a while but real life got in the way also my eye is being extra annoying! I hope you guys love this as much as I do (づ๑•ᴗ•๑)づ♡
Summary: 
It’s been a year since you moved away to a new branch. If you’re being honest, things haven’t been great. Being away from all you know and all you wanted has made you realize a lot of things and made you wish you had done things differently. Maybe moving back would be better for you. 
Wordcount: 15k
Warnings: lots of conflict and resolutions, super emotional, angsty as fuck, protected v. penetration, fingering, lots of praising and fluff, nothing major, smut is pretty tame and loving, biting because yes
Requested: yes, by popular demand 
P.S - Italic is for thoughts mainly from the characters’ perspective and quotes. Bold is for text messages/calls/voice messages between characters
It’s been a year since you moved to this new city and another branch at your company. It isn’t exactly going like you thought it would. You thought you would make friends easily. You thought your career would have progressed. You thought you wouldn’t think that much about Jeonghan. You were wrong on all counts.
Your career was still at the same stage it was when you moved. No exciting opportunities had opened. You had met some really nice people and your new team was great but you missed your team, you missed your best friends. You even missed Clara’s perverted comments on a daily basis. You missed the team meetings. You missed Jeonghan. You missed him a lot. 
One thing moving to a smaller town and being new will do to you is give you time to think about the past. You had thought a lot about Jeonghan. What your feelings for him were. Why you were trying to keep him away. Why you told yourself you were fine with him being on a date with Hana while fucking you. Being away from all of them gave you a lot of clarity on a lot of things from your past. It also allowed you to feel things without fear and embrace everything you were too scared to do before.
Too bad it was too late. 
You don’t know what happened with Jeonghan and Hana but you imagine them being happy together. And it devastated you. You should’ve said something. You shouldn’t have ran. You were a coward and it made you lose one of the best things in your life all because of pride.
No one from your previous team ever found out about you and Jeonghan. And every time you visited them or they visited you, the subject was never brought up. And, if you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t want to know. ‘Ignorance is bliss’ you tell yourself. At least this way you can pretend he doesn’t hate you now and that he is single and waiting for you. Your therapist disagrees and hopes you will face all your fears the next time you see him.
That’s another thing you did when you moved here. You got help. You got a therapist and it has helped you a lot. If anything, at least this year has made you grow as a person and made you realize how you should’ve handled most things in your life in the past. She has also helped you figure out ways for you to deal with your current feelings and given you tools to keep improving yourself to make sure you make the right decisions for yourself in the future.
It was okay living here though. The apartment wasn’t the best. You missed your baby terribly but you managed. You were adjusting fairly well. Initially, you had cried every day. It was very difficult to not see your people and not sleep in your bed. Now you were better. You were dealing with the consequences of your decision in a better way. You tried visiting your friends more and tried getting to know your new team more as well. You couldn’t deny that you did want to go back. To the branch, to your team, to your apartment, to… Everything that you left behind. But you didn’t think that opportunity would happen any time soon.
Work was always uneventful. All teams got along great and it was easy making decisions together. Also being a smaller branch, you didn’t get as many big accounts, so sometimes it was just a bit too slow for you and what you were accustomed to.
Today you had to finish the monthly report to your manager but not much else was going on so you let your team go home early for the day. You were having a hard time focusing on your work. Something that seems to have started when you moved here. You didn’t use to have this issue before. You were in the middle of your thoughts when your phone rang and snapped you out of it. You looked at it and smiled before answering.
“Hoshi, my beloved… Why are you calling me during work hours?”
“Seriously, this is your fault. Why would you leave us? This new manager is driving us insane” Hoshi told you in a whispered tone.
“Come on… He can’t be that bad. I heard really good things about him from when he was a team member here”
“I don’t know what kind of lies they told you but he is insane. His demands are outrageous. Remember how Jeonghan used to annoy us because he just wanted to? Well, this new guy has made Jeonghan annoy us even more and now Jeonghan is actually right! Can’t you understand how wrong this is?” Hoshi asked you.
“Here I thought I was special and Jeonghan only annoyed me. I guess we were all played, huh?” you asked Hoshi playfully.
“This isn’t funny, Y/N. Jeonghan has to be an asshole now because someone has to stop this guy. He is not ready to be a manager. You need to help us, say something to someone about him, please. I am begging you. We are begging you. And you owe us from leaving us with this lunatic” Hoshi answered in a very serious tone.
“Look, I can try and find out more about him and talk to my manager to see if anything can be done. But you know I don’t have that kind of power. You need to go to HR. Talk to Cass, she is usually the best person to reach for these things and she happens to be super close with Sunny. I will do the best I can on my side but I can’t guarantee anything” you told him sincerely. 
What you didn’t tell him was that you wished you could switch with their manager and get back to your team. You hadn’t told them yet that you wanted to be back. It’s not a possibility and it would only make everyone sadder. You were done being selfish.
“I know. I know, Y/N. It’s just… Why can’t you come back? This guy is clearly not a good fit for our branch and for our team” Hoshi told you in a sad tone.
“It’s not my choice anymore. There’s no openings at all Hoshi. And I made a commitment to this branch when I moved here. I can’t just up and leave” 
“You say that but we both know your worth and how much this company needs you. They would do anything you wanted to keep you. You could request to come back specially with all of us not getting along well with the new team lead. And it’s nothing personal. He just isn’t good at being a manager and he isn’t ready for it at this branch yet” Hoshi continued sincerely.
“I will speak to my manager about him, okay? But that’s all I can do for right now. You should reach out to Cass in HR on your side. The whole team should actually. And any other team that is also being affected by this should speak up as well” you added sternly.
“Okay, Y/N. Thank you. I have to go before he loses his shit. I hope you’re well and please, visit us soon” he said and you both hung up.
In a way Hoshi was right. You could request this change to the company. And it would make sense. Their new manager came from this branch where things are much slower and much easier. He was not ready for the big leagues as a manager at least. It would be easy to convince your manager. 
For now, you would do the right thing and put your personal feelings aside. You would talk to your manager just like you promised Hoshi and it would be up to them on how to proceed from here.
There was a knock on your door and one of your team members - Chris - walked in.
“I thought I told you to go home for the day. Nothing to do around here for now” you told him and smiled.
“Well, you know me. I can’t leave with the boss still around. Hardly seems fair. Also I like to work for my money, thank you very much” he added as he started to move to sit on the chair across from you.
“Never met anyone that wouldn’t rush out of the office if told by their bosses before. Also please don’t call me boss. I told you so many times Chris” you said. Chris smiled.
Chris was a lovely guy. He was your right hand at this branch. He introduced you to everyone and made it easier for you to adjust to the change. He is also one of your best team members. Very hard working and constantly looking to improve and progress his career as well. He reminds you of a younger you.
The only problem with Chris is that he seems very interested in you. He has reached out to you about his feelings several times and wants you to give him a chance. This is one of the reasons you mostly haven’t gotten to know your team in the same way you tried with your previous team.
He was gorgeous. Tall. Muscular. Beautiful Australian accent. You were simply not interested. You had someone else in your mind and in your heart and even though you weren’t strong enough and brave enough to do anything about it, you knew you could never start something new with someone else without resolving the past.
Chris knew it too. Well not the whole ‘having feelings for someone else’ part but that you weren’t interested. And he had been very understanding. He hadn’t pushed at all. Simply told you if anything changed, he would always be open to explore your relationship further. It was sweet. He was one of the few things that kept you sane over here and you didn’t want to lose him.
“Are you going to be done soon? I was thinking maybe we can leave together?” Chris asked you.
“Sorry, no. I’ve been procrastinating for the last 20 minutes and now I’m late in delivering this. You go ahead and leave. I’m also going to try and catch the actual boss before leaving” you told him and he got up to leave.
“Alright, Y/N. See you tomorrow, have a great night” he told you before leaving.
Thankfully, your manager was still here as well and you were able to talk to him about the new team lead that Hoshi told you about. Seungkwan was his name. He was a very passionate team lead over here and yes, demanding but no one had ever had any complaints since he had been promoted. You explained to your boss the pace of the two branches are very different and so are the team members and the demands. You recommended someone check on the teams of the other branch and with Seungkwan himself to understand how everyone is adjusting and if any changes are necessary and your boss agreed. 
You’ve done your part. You have warned the right people and now it’s up to them to assess and make decisions. 
You got home and called Hoshi to tell him and he was relieved. He also reached out to Cass and everyone else on his team did the same. Apparently, tomorrow the advertising team and some IT members are also going to Cass about Seungkwan. Wow. He really hasn’t made any friends. Poor guy. This branch was very happy with him when he was here. Maybe he just isn’t ready for the amount of work and stress the other branch entails. 
During that phone call with Hoshi, he asked you to come visit the following weekend and you agreed. You needed to see all of them. You told him to please arrange for all the team members to be available to hang out and drink and eat and gossip and he was more than happy to start sending voice messages screaming in the group chat you all have together. It made you smile so hard that they were still the same crazy bunch and they still cared so much about you even after you left.
Since you have a big drive to do whenever you visit, you made a request to your boss to book next Thursday and Friday off so you could really enjoy a proper weekend with them and with your apartment. He approved and you were all set for next week. You were so excited too. You couldn’t hide it.
“I wonder if Y/N will ever get this excited to see us in the future” Hyunjin, another one of your team members spoke and it broke you out of your daydream and silly smile.
“Definitely not. We’re the rebound” Felix - your sweetest team member - chimed in.
“Hey! That’s unfair. I’ve never treated any of you like a rebound. How dare you?” you asked Felix and pouted.
Everyone laughed and your team meeting proceeded again without any incidents. Like you said, your team was great and if you hadn’t had the perfect team members before, maybe you could appreciate them more but you truly missed your people. You were so ready to come and see them. 
The week went by fast and at last Wednesday arrived and you couldn't wait for the day to end for you to go home and get ready to leave. Before your day was done, your boss called you into his office to discuss something that apparently couldn’t wait until you got back.
“I know you have to leave and I’m sorry to call you in right now but it’s precisely because you are going to visit them over there that I wanted to get this out of the way before you left” he told you once you sat down in front of him.
“I’m not getting fired, am I? That would lead to a depressing weekend” you said jokingly and you both laughed.
“Not at all. This company will do the best they can to keep you around in any branch and you know that as well. You’re far too valuable. This is about the team lead situation you brought to light to me last week, actually” he told you and you sat there silently waiting for him to continue.
“After we talked about it, I brought it up to the head of HR and they actually talked to everyone at that branch including Seungkwan and his manager to understand what could be happening. It was determined that Seungkwan is not ready for a managerial position at that branch just yet. However, he still wanted to stay on as a team member for the marketing team and learn from the new team lead that joins their team instead of coming back to this branch” he added and you nodded.
“Now, as much as the possibility of losing you pains me personally, it’s up to me to let you know that the company is actually giving you the choice. Since you were the one that started bringing this to everyone’s attention and you were extremely successful in leading the team in the other branch before, they wanted to give you the opportunity to return to the branch as team lead if you wanted to”
“Return?” you asked confused.
Your manager laughed.
“Yes. You have one of two options. Return there as team lead and continue on where you left off with the team and to your success or stay here with us” he said and you looked down.
“Look, I know this branch isn’t working exactly as you thought it would for you. I’m not blind to that. Not only that but the opportunities that you were told you were getting here haven’t happened and won’t anytime soon. So even though I don’t want to lose you, I really want you to think it over” 
“Does anyone else know about this? Team members, branches?” you asked him.
“No. The managers know but no one else. They will only be told after a decision is made. If you choose to stay with us, they will hire an outsider for the team lead position at the other branch. If you choose to return to your branch, we will most likely promote Chris as the team lead here” he answered you.
“Chris would be great as a team lead for this team. They all trust him and he has seen me do a lot of the team lead tasks so he’ll learn quickly” you told your manager.
“Does this mean you’re choosing to return to them then?” he asked you and you paused.
“No… I don’t know yet. Can I think this over the weekend? I’m assuming you also told me this today to have me think it over while I’m there” you said and laughed lightly.
“Of course and yes, that’s exactly why I told you. Monday we can discuss this more but go have fun and rest” he told you. You said your goodbyes for the weekend and went home to pack and get ready.
It’s funny. You spent most of this year wanting this opportunity to open up. And now that it’s here, you’re hesitating. 
Going back there would mean facing a lot of things you left behind. Things you weren’t sure you were completely ready for just yet. Sure, you had been working on yourself and on making better decisions for yourself and on being more honest with everyone around you but you were still scared.
Returning also meant finding out what happened with Jeonghan this last year and you didn’t know if you were ready for that. If he was still dating Hana and you had to start seeing them together every day, you might lose your mind completely. Not knowing anything made you feel that maybe, just maybe, he was waiting for you just like you were waiting for him. You didn’t want that delusion to be shattered by reality.
On the other hand, you missed everyone terribly. You missed the pacing of your job, your people, your apartment, your favorite restaurants. Would you really pass this opportunity up just because you were scared of getting your heart broken?
You haven’t decided yet. Maybe your manager is right. Seeing everyone and going back there can really help you make a final decision and the right decision for yourself personally and professionally. 
The next day you were well rested and ready for the drive. All you could think about was seeing your apartment and lying in your bed.
As soon as you got to your apartment, you felt like a new person. You loved the feeling of coming home. Your actual home. You went out to get groceries and came back home to cook a nice meal and hang out at your place. You missed this so much, being by yourself in your home and binging a show on the couch. This was all you had planned for today. 
Tomorrow you were meeting them at your usual place where you used to have most of your team building dinners. You missed that place too even if the last time you were there you were faced with Jeonghan and Hana on a date. You were not going to let them ruin a great restaurant for you. Tomorrow you would enjoy hanging out with everyone and hopefully get a better understanding of what the right decision is for you. For now, you’ll just enjoy your cozy home you missed so much.
The next day and a half went by fast and it was now Friday night and you were getting ready to go to dinner. You couldn’t wait to see them and get a little crazy. It’s been such a long while since you were all together like this.
You took a Uber and got to the restaurant a bit early but you were just too excited. As you were getting ready to go in, you heard Hoshi calling your name from across the street.
“Y/N! You’re early! Aren’t you a bit too excited to hang out with your favorite people in the entire world?? Simp” Hoshi yelled from across the street as Seokmin was still getting out of the Uber behind him.
“I missed this restaurant and I’m hungry. Don’t flatter yourself!” you yelled back and the three of you laughed.
Hoshi and Seokmin crossed the street and you finally hugged. You missed them so much.
“We should go in. Everyone else is already here and Shua was already texting me and being clingy. He really missed you” Seokmin said and started moving towards the entrance of the restaurant. 
“Shua? You invited him? I thought it was just us” you said and your heart started beating rapidly inside your chest. 
“Oh it wasn’t me, Y/N. Hoshi here invited the whole advertising team and they all accepted” Seokmin said as he smiled mischievously at Hoshi.
“Thanks, Seokmin…” Hoshi said and turned to you.
“You invited them? Why? Hoshi I wanted to hang out just us like the old days… I thought I was pretty clear…” you said and Seokmin patted Hoshi on the back and got in the restaurant leaving you both alone.
“Look, they overheard me and I felt bad not inviting them. Shua and Wonwoo talk about you all the time. They miss you too, Y/N” 
“Why not invite just them then? Why everyone?” you asked. You were trying to look behind Hoshi into the restaurant but you couldn’t see the table you were all sitting at.
“Is this about Jeonghan? I thought you two were cool…” Hoshi asked as he scratched the back of his head.
“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I was just surprised. Thank you for getting everyone together, Hoshi” 
He smiled and you both started to go into the restaurant and to the back towards your table. There were a lot of you so they placed your table at the back of the restaurant for more privacy. Also they knew your team well and how loud you could get with drinks in you so it was the overall best option for everyone.
“Stop everything! She has arrived!” Hoshi yelled as you two got to the table and almost everyone jumped.
“I will have a heart attack working with you people” someone you didn’t know spoke up and you stared at Hoshi.
“That’s our new team lead. He invited himself” Hoshi whispered to you.
“So you’re the one terrorizing these teams? Gotta say… Very impressive. Here I thought I was special but you can get everyone just as mad” you said and everyone laughed.
Jeonghan had been staring at you since the moment you walked up to the table. You could feel his eyes on you. You were trying to act normal in front of your team but you wanted to talk to him. Maybe tonight is not the best night to talk things over but you needed to at least understand if there even was a possibility of talking things over. You definitely don’t think you can come back if things are not resolved between the two of you.
Dinner with everyone was easy. Everyone was telling stories and telling you the updates for everything and you even got to know Seungkwan a bit more. He seemed like a wonderful guy. He was loud and he and Hoshi were always on each other’s nerves but if you were to come back, you could see this working well. He would make a wonderful addition as a team member.
Shua, Seungcheol and Wonwoo tried pretending to be upset with you for a bit but that all fell to pieces when you all got into your usual shenanigans. Another thing you realize now that you’re here is that you definitely neglected these three boys when you left. You completely lost touch with them and it wasn’t fair to them. You’re lucky they’re being merciful.
Silvia has gotten really close with Seokmin you can tell. It’s cute. She has always been the quiet one whenever your teams are together and it’s good to see she feels a bit more comfortable around everyone with Seokmin by her side.
Jeonghan didn’t say much throughout the dinner. He laughed sometimes and smiled but didn’t chime in much. You didn’t know what changed (if anything) in his life since you left. Maybe he was doing this on purpose. You wish you were brave enough to ask him directly in front of everyone.
As usual, Clara breaks you out of your thoughts by saying the most outrageous shit out of nowhere.
“So, Y/N… Be honest… Have you fucked that Chris guy on your team yet?” 
There is a moment where everyone is silent and then a few seconds later of staring at each other everyone bursts out laughing.
“I missed your ridiculousness, Clara. Thank you, I really needed a good laugh” you said as you continued laughing.
“Oh come on! Seriously! What’s wrong with you? This guy was so fucking hot, I couldn’t believe my eyes when I went there. Almost requested a transfer instantly” Clara added and you kept laughing.
“How hot?” Sunny asked and everyone stared at her still laughing.
“Wow, I leave for a year and Sunny turns into Clara… Seungkwan, you gotta get a handle on the children” you said and Seungkwan laughed.
“Tall, muscular, Australian hunk. Sunny, literally one of the hottest men I’ve seen with my own two eyes and he was all over Y/N. I was so jealous… Why do you always get the hottest guys to be into you and you don’t even take advantage of it? Unfair” Clara answered Sunny and Sunny gasped.
“Do you have pictures?” Sunny asked.
“Of course, I have pictures of all my coworkers on my phone. Because that’s not creepy at all” you added and got up to use the restroom.
“I follow him on Instagram, let me show you” Clara said and you shook your head and continued going to the bathroom.
When you came back, Clara and Sunny were still looking at Chris’s Instagram page and drooling. They started telling you what an idiot you were for not even trying to date him and you just shrugged.
“But seriously, no boyfriends we should know about?” Shua asked and you were surprised by his question.
Everyone turned to you.
“No. Not really interested in dating at the moment. Still have a few things to resolve in that arena in my life before I even consider starting to date again” you answered honestly and you hoped Jeonghan picked up on what you were trying to say.
Shua caught that as well, smiled at you and looked at Jeonghan who was now staring at his empty plate.
Clara and Sunny booed at you and everyone moved on from that topic and continued to chat about changes or new things they purchased or hobbies they started after you left. You were trying hard to pay attention to them but you needed to talk to Jeonghan. He just didn’t seem interested in talking to you.
As you were trying to convince yourself to just go for it, Jeonghan got up and told everyone he had to leave and your heart sank. There goes your chance.
“Late date?” Clara asked as she raised her eyebrows at him and everyone laughed and started telling her off. You pretended to laugh but you didn’t find any of this funny.
“No” was all he said before saying his goodbyes and leaving. He didn’t even look at you before leaving. He was always so unfair. As far as he knows, you may never be back here again. He may never see you again. Yet, he doesn’t seem to care. He doesn’t even care enough to tell you goodbye. Maybe coming back here would be a huge mistake if this is how you’re going to feel every day.
Seokmin snapped you back from your thoughts by squeezing your hand and smiling at you. He didn’t know about you and Jeonghan but he seemed to understand your sadness at that moment while everyone else didn’t notice anything.
You thought about maybe ending the night early but that wouldn’t be fair to anyone else there so you pushed through. You also deserved to have fun with your friends. You have plenty of time to be sad when you get home.
The rest of the night went by fast. The group moved from the restaurant to a karaoke bar and everyone was having a blast. You might have had too much to drink but you needed to stop thinking about Jeonghan and focus on your friends so alcohol it is. You were going to regret this tomorrow. 
And regret it you did. You woke up with a huge hangover. Your head was pounding. Why did you drink this much? Oh yeah… Jeonghan. At least everyone seemed to have enjoyed the night. You should’ve drank more water though. You got up, took an ibuprofen, showered and decided to rest more until your headache went away. 
It sounded like a good plan and was going great until someone decided to ruin your entire mood by ringing your doorbell. You tried ignoring it and turned around on your bed to go back to sleep but the doorbell kept ringing.
You got up and went to the door. Whoever it was, they better be ready for a fight. You were tired, angry, sad and out of patience for any nonsense today.
You didn’t even check the peephole. You get to the door and you swing it open, ready to fight and when you finally see who’s on the other side, you stop.
“Not a good morning, Y/N?” Jeonghan asks, laughing lightly.
You sigh and gesture at him to come in.
“What gave it away? The disheveled hair? The swinging the door open?” you asked as you sat on the couch.
“The general rage, yes. Had a good time last night after I left, huh?” he asked and he joined you on the couch.
“I forgot how insane they are when they drink. I missed everyone so much that I let myself get carried away. Mistake”
You both laughed. And then there was silence. You couldn’t take this anymore. It was now or never.
“Why did you ignore me last night? You barely said anything or even looked at me. You didn’t even say goodbye. That could’ve been the last time you saw me and you didn’t even say anything. Why?” you asked him.
“I’ll never be able to say goodbye to you, Y/N. I couldn’t do it a year ago and I can’t do it now” he answered without hesitation.
You nodded.
“Why did you come here today? You didn’t seem to be interested in talking to me yesterday” you asked again.
“It wasn’t easy seeing you. After all this time. I went there because I needed to see you but I didn’t know if I should be there. If you wanted me there. I didn’t want to ruin your night but I couldn’t not go. I was being selfish” 
“So you decided to leave early yesterday and come here today and ruin a whole new day for me?” you asked in a playful tone but he didn’t laugh with you.
“I wanted to see you, Jeonghan. I know I wasn’t being obvious about it yesterday but everyone was there. I didn’t want to ruin the night for them. It was the first time we were all together in a long time. I couldn’t be selfish. But I wanted to be” you added to your previous statement.
He nodded.
“Then can we talk? Right now? It’s why I came here. There’s a lot of things we need to talk about. I should’ve done this earlier. Way before last year even. I’m a coward when it comes to you” Jeonghan said.
“Yes, please” you answered and you both smiled.
“I’ve never been the smoothest guy around. The guy that can easily talk to a girl he likes. I’ve always gotten weird and acted stupid. I don’t know why. And now I would like to think I’m better but back then when we met 6 years ago, I was still that stupid kid that didn’t know how to act when he liked a girl. That’s kind of why this started. Back then, when I first saw you, I wanted to get to know you more. You were so beautiful, I still remember what you were wearing the first day we met. But you didn’t seem to notice me. At all. The only time you acknowledged me was in an interdepartmental meeting when I made a snappy comment and you started getting snarky with me. I thought this was my shot. This is how you were going to notice me” he started and you scoffed.
“So you decided to be an asshole from then on? Why not just come to me and talk to me?” you asked.
“Like I said, I was a dumb kid. I wanted your attention but I wasn’t brave enough or confident enough to simply walk up to you and start a conversation so I decided having you mad at me was better than having you not know I even existed. Things went downhill fast from there. You were hating me more and more and I was… Liking you more and more. But after a year of this dynamic, I didn’t know how to stop it and just talk to you. Seungcheol always gave me so much shit for it. He kept saying I was going to regret not having talked to you and gotten to know you the proper way. That it was going to bite me in the ass and he was right” he sighed as he continued.
So that’s what Seungcheol meant when he asked you if you didn’t know why Jeonghan treated you this way. He knew all along of Jeonghan’s feelings for you and he probably thought you knew as well, somehow.
“Y/N, I’ve had feelings for you from day one. That’s why it hurt so much hearing you say you hated me even if I brought it on myself. When you gave me a chance to have you in my arms, even if it was just that night at the party, I didn’t hesitate. I couldn’t. I had wanted you for so long. Desperate for your attention. Part of me wishes I stopped myself from having you that night. I should’ve told you the truth right there but I couldn’t risk you leaving. I was selfish that night too” 
You looked down and he sighed. 
You didn’t know what to say. Even though this made sense, it also didn’t. You still had so many questions. You needed to know everything. No more fear. No more being a coward.
You looked back at Jeonghan.
“Why did you sleep with Hana then? If you had feelings for me from the start?” you asked and he laughed.
“Another stupid mistake I made because of my feelings for you” he said and you raised an eyebrow at him.
“Do you remember the only year we had the Christmas party at the office? The one where the office almost got destroyed?” he asked and you nodded.
“Before that party I promised myself I was going to talk to you. Really talk. Maybe drunkenly confess my feelings for you and hope for the best. But you spent the first few hours of that party with Jackson. Smiling and laughing and having fun and I was fucking miserable watching you two. I started drinking a bit too much and when Hana came to me I thought ‘fuck it’. If you could live your life and probably end up dating Jackson, I could fuck whoever I wanted too. I didn’t really think about the consequences of sleeping with her until it was done. She told the whole office and the look of disgust you gave me when you found out was enough for me to realize that if I hadn’t ruined all my chances with you before, I definitely had then”
“You’re an idiot” you told him.
“I know” he agreed.
“Even if you regretted it afterwards, you seemed to have a good time. She said a lot of things about that night. Hard to believe you cared about me that much but fucked her that good. Or maybe I’m just a hopeless romantic that doesn’t understand fucking without feelings” you said and you looked down.
You know you wanted the truth but you had forgotten how much the truth could hurt.
“You fucked me and you hated me though” he said and you scoffed.
“You really are an idiot…” you said and sighed.
He looked at you with a puzzled look in his eyes. 
“Don’t look so confused. I’ll explain my side soon. Continue” you told him.
“About what she said, it was all lies. I may have been drunk but I remember that night clearly. It was terrible. I didn’t even put in an effort. I didn’t care. I was picturing you the whole time, I’m actually surprised I didn’t say your name. Probably because nothing felt good. I just wanted to get it over with. When we were done, I left immediately without even saying a word to her. I was disgusted with myself. I went to sleep that night hoping you would never find out about it. You know I’m like you, I know you’ve heard it around the office too. I don’t just fuck people, I don’t do the fuck buddy thing. I’ve always been looking for the real deal. I will always regret that night” he said and you started to understand him a bit more, but there were still a couple of things on your mind when it came to Hana.
“Why let her hang around you all the time at the office? If you were mad about her telling everyone and if you really weren’t interested, why let her follow you around and grab you whenever she wants?” you asked.
He smiled at you.
“The first time she did it in front of you, it seemed like you were jealous. I didn’t know if it was wishful thinking on my part, but the look in your eye when she started touching me gave me hope. Again, I’m an idiot, I know” he answered and now it actually made you laugh lightly.
“Can’t argue with that” you said and he laughed with you.
“Last question about her and I think you know what’s coming” you said and he sighed and nodded.
“If all of this is true, what happened when I met you both at the restaurant? She said you were on a date. Why?” 
“This one is actually an easy one to answer. We were never on a date. Woozi in IT invited me out for dinner and drinks to join their team dinner since I wasn’t doing so well and I agreed. When the time of the dinner came, everyone else canceled except her so I was stuck with her. Not sure if it was her plan all along but I know Woozi wouldn’t do that to me so I guess it worked in her favor somehow. I decided to stay because I was hungry and tired and wanted a drink and then we ran into you. When she said it was a date, I really wanted to say something different but the look in your eyes… I knew I needed to explain myself outside of that situation. You weren’t going to let me do it there specially since you were late for your team dinner”
He does know you well. You would’ve left either way that night. What you still don’t understand is why he didn’t tell you all of this before you left.
“Why didn’t you tell me all of this? Why did you let me leave thinking you were fucking me while dating her?” you finally asked.
“Before that restaurant situation, you had been distancing yourself from me. I didn’t know why but I was too scared to find out. I thought maybe you were done. With us. With me. I didn’t think you would want to hear anything from me anymore. And when you also didn’t reach out or asked for an explanation about Hana, I thought that meant you didn’t care. I thought you didn’t care if I was dating her or not because we were just fucking. I thought if I reached out and told you the truth, you were going to tell me it was just sex. That it was never more than that between us. I didn’t want to hear that”
“So you let me leave? No goodbye. No explanation. Just a text. How do you think I felt when you did that?” you asked with tears in your eyes now.
“I know how much I fucked up. After sending that text and staring at my phone, I realized I would rather let you know the whole truth even if it meant you rejecting me than this. I drove to your place but when I got there, you were gone” he added and he also had tears in his eyes now.
“Why didn’t you ever call me? Or even texted me? Why not tell me all of this even if I was away?” you asked him as you cried softly.
“I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me. You had this new life now in a different city with new people. I thought you were over whatever happened with us”
“I spent this whole year thinking about you” you said and he nodded sadly.
There was a silence in the room with you now. 
He had told you the whole truth. Since the very first day. No more hiding. 
It was your turn now but you didn’t even know where to start so you told him just that.
“Thank you for telling me this now. I also have some explaining to do but I don’t even know where to start…”
“From the beginning. From when we met, please. I need to know” Jeonghan told you and you agreed.
“I thought you were the most beautiful human I’d ever seen. When we first met. I’m also not the best at talking to people I like. I usually don’t, at all. I stay away and just enjoy the person from afar. It seems easier than being rejected. Adding that to how obsessed I was with the company and being hired there, I guess it would have seemed like I didn’t notice you at all. But I did. Which is why I was so pissed every time you were an asshole to me. Not only was the career I dreamed of taking a hit but the guy I had a crush on apparently wanted to destroy my career” you said and laughed.
He laughed with you.
You were both idiots. 
“After that, I accepted that you just hated me. I had to move on or I would end up breaking my own heart. So I told myself that I hated you. I would hate you from then on and treat you exactly like you were treating me. I spent years avoiding what I really felt about you. It seemed easier that way. I needed to focus on my career and ignore whatever was going on with you. It was the smartest decision for me” you told him and continued.
“I didn’t realize all of this until I left though. Being away and getting a therapist helped me realize all of my feelings for you. Made me understand what I did wrong and what I wish I could change. Distancing myself from you after our last night here was a huge mistake. But at the time I was confused. I still thought I didn’t like you at all so how could I let you in here. I didn’t want to see the truth. I wasn’t ready for it. It’s easier now, even if it hurts, knowing exactly what my feelings for you are” you added.
“Is that why you didn’t say anything after the restaurant incident?” he asked you.
“Yeah. I had already been distant from you trying to sort out my feelings and when I saw you with her I made my decision. Maybe it was best if we stopped whatever it was we were doing. Then when we didn’t speak after that and my manager gave me the option to leave, again, it seemed easier than trying to deal with everything. I used my career as an excuse but I just wasn’t ready to face this. I am now” you answered.
You were trying to explain everything to him but sometimes it’s hard to put all of this in words. It’s been 6 years of confusion and misunderstandings. Where do you go from here?
“I don’t want to ask this but what about Jackson? What happened at the Christmas party?” he asked and it surprised you.
“Honestly I don’t even remember that party at all. I don’t remember spending that much time with Jackson. I never liked him and I always knew he was just trying to fuck me. I was nice to him at first but I guess over time I lost patience and that’s why now it may be more obvious of how not interested I am” you told him and he nodded.
“And Chris?” he asked in a more hushed voice.
You laughed.
“Chris is a great guy. And he has told me he’s interested in me. I told him no. I still had things from my past to sort out and wasn’t interested. He understood. We’re friends. Sure, he still hopes one day I’ll give him a chance but I already told him many times not to wait for that” you said and he smiled.
You smiled too.
You weren’t sure if there was anything else he wanted to know but it seems most of your past issues have been explained on both sides. Past has been resolved in a way. But what about the future? Is there a future? You’re trying to figure out how to ask this question when he interrupts your thoughts.
“What about now? What happens now? You’re still living far away, it would be tricky but I want to see you again. And a lot more. Maybe we can go back to how things were between us…” Jeonghan said and the last part he said with more nervousness in his tone.
Thing is… He still didn’t say what his feelings were. He said he liked you but that could mean anything. Now he wants to go back to how things were? No… That’s not what you want at all. You thought you had been clear.
“No, I don’t want to go back to how things were. I know that for sure” you told him and his smile fell from his face.
“Oh… Hmm… Okay… I thought that was what we both wanted. I guess I got that wrong” he said as he started to get up from the couch and move towards the door. 
“Wait, where are you going? You didn’t let me finish” you said as you followed behind him.
“No, I get it. I thought things could go back to that but they can’t. We’ve been hurting each other for so long. I wouldn’t want to be with me either. Sorry. I should go. I’m meeting Seungcheol for lunch but thanks for listening to me” he said as he left your apartment.
You were left alone, in the middle of your living room, confused and staring at your door.
‘What the hell just happened?’ you asked yourself. You thought the conversation was going well. You were both reaching an agreement so why would he leave. He didn’t even let you explain what you meant when you said you didn’t want things to go back to the way things were. Was that all he wanted from this? To explain everything and then go back to just fucking each other? Why was he always so confusing? Things between two people aren’t supposed to be this difficult. You can’t even hold a conversation without misunderstandings. How was this ever going to work?
You were left confused and wondering what any of it meant for the both of you.
The rest of the weekend went by fast. You met up with some of the guys for lunch and just to hang out and Sunday came fast. Before you knew it, it was time to leave again. You couldn’t leave without trying to understand what went wrong and what you said that made Jeonghan leave so abruptly. You decided to call him. He didn’t answer so you texted him.
“Hey, I’m sorry to bother you and do this on short notice but I would really like to see you before I have to leave today. I feel like our conversation ended and you left on another misunderstanding. Can you please, make some time for me today? I have to leave by 6PM, the latest. I’m free the rest of the day. Let me know, okay?”
Nothing.
He didn’t answer the text. He never called you back. 
It was 6:30PM and you were still in your apartment staring at your phone, waiting for him.
Crying, you pick up your bags and get ready to leave.
This would never work. He is unable to resolve things by talking. He always runs away from you. You would end up getting your heart broken in the future.
Not that your heart isn’t broken right now. You opened up to him and told him the whole truth and somehow he chose to listen to the wrong thing and leave. This time you were proud of yourself though. You reached out to him and you tried to resolve everything before having to leave again. It was his choice to not listen. There’s only so much you can do. Relationships are a two way street. You can’t keep fighting for something while the other person simply gives up and walks away. It’s exhausting and you will always end up in tears. 
Maybe this was for the best.
That four hour drive was done listening to sad songs and trying to tell yourself you’ll be just fine. You still had no fucking clue of what you wanted to do. Even though you had an amazing time with everyone including the new guy, this situation with Jeonghan might prove to be a little too much for you to handle. 
You needed to sleep on this and hope your boss didn’t ask you for your answer first thing in the morning.
The next day you went to work and went back to normal. The usual meetings, usual coachings, usual schedule. It felt normal. 
By the end of the day you still didn’t know what to do. You missed everything about the other branch, city and people. But you didn’t know if your heart could take any more hits. Going back there wasn’t going to be easy.
You were split. 
It was the end of the day and you were packing up to go home. Your boss hasn’t mentioned it at all. You talked about work during the day and he checked-in with you and the team but he didn’t ask you anything else. You felt relieved. Maybe he would give you more time before making a final decision.
As you reached for the door of your office to leave, there’s a knock.
It was your boss.
Fuck. You knew it was too good to be true.
“Hey again, Y/N. Going home?” he asked you.
“Yup. Not a fan of overtime especially when the work's all done” you told him and you both laughed.
“Look, I don’t want to pressure you but we have their branch breathing down our necks. They need an answer asap. I assume you don’t have one yet since you didn’t talk to me about it but just a heads up, they might contact you directly if you take too long deciding” he let you know and you sighed.
“I want to go back. Nothing against this branch but it’s just a bit too slow paced for me. You’re a great manager and I’ve really enjoyed my time here but it’s been difficult adjusting even to my apartment. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier today. Not gonna lie, before this moment, I had no clue what I wanted but as soon as you asked me I knew what the answer was” you answered him and he laughed.
“I get it. You and that team are the dream team. Hard to move on from that when that’s what you love. I don’t hold it against you. We can let the team here know tomorrow so that you can start helping Chris with stepping into the role, is that okay?”
“Of course but this soon? When do I have to leave by?” you asked a bit surprised on how fast this was moving.
“They want you back there asap. I don’t blame them either. I’ll let them know of your decision and let’s say two weeks? Would that be enough time for Chris to get prepared? What do you think as his current team lead?”
“That’s more than enough time. Like I told you before, Chris was already aware and saw me do a lot of the team lead’s tasks. It should be an easy adjustment for him” you said and he nodded.
“Alright, then! Have a good night and we’ll meet with your team first thing in the morning” your manager told you as he walked out with you.
“One more thing… Can we not tell the team over there? I wanted to surprise them, if that’s okay?” you asked your manager and he laughed again.
“I’m okay with it. Let me ask them over there and I’ll let you know tomorrow, yeah?” he answered you and you nodded.
You got to your apartment, sat down on the couch and started laughing.
You have no idea what came over you but when your manager asked what you wanted to do, you couldn’t help but say you wanted to go back. This whole thing with Jeonghan won’t be easy and you will hurt but at least you’ll be around the people you love most in the world, in your comfy home that you love so much.
You couldn’t wait to leave.
The next two weeks went by so slow. Every day seemed to drag on forever. This was how bad you wanted to go back. 
Your team was sad but they understood your decision and they were also super excited about having Chris step up. 
You spent those two weeks helping Chris and preparing him for the role and by the end he was full on taking care of the team while you shadowed along. Maybe that’s why the days went by even slower at the end. You were watching Chris do your job and reporting to your manager but you weren’t doing much more.
Your manager was able to convince the other branch about keeping this a secret for now. Seungkwan was informed and he also promised to not say anything since he knew what this meant for you all. He may have only spent that one night around all of you but it was clear to him you belonged there with the team and that he still had a lot to learn before stepping up at that branch.
It was difficult not to say anything in the group chat specially since your team figured out some moves in the team were going to happen but they just didn’t know what and they kept talking about it and speculating. They were suspicious it had to do with Seungkwan since they all filed the same complaint with HR but they weren’t sure since Seungkwan wouldn’t tell them either.
The day before you left you had dinner with Chris and the boys to say goodbye. They were a great team, really. You just didn’t belong here with them. You hoped the best for them and you knew Chris would grow a lot more in the future if he kept working the way he had.
The next day you drove home. Home. Felt good to say and to think about. You couldn’t wait to get there. 
You had to be careful once you got there though. You didn’t want to get caught and be told on before Monday. Clara lives very close to you so grocery shopping was going to be a risk but you had to risk it because there was no way you weren’t going to cook and enjoy some nice home cooked meals. 
Those days went by fast and so far no one had found out you were back and would be back working at the branch.
When you got to the office, you went straight to your manager’s office and as soon as you walked in, you two shared a huge hug. She had missed you just as much as you had missed her. Having another woman team lead to fight Jeonghan’s manager was much needed since he had been on a whole other level after you left.
Part of you thinks your manager asked the whole office to join the meeting so that she could rub it in his face that you were back permanently to make his life hell if needed.
The time for the meeting was finally here and your heart was beating fast. You’re excited to see your team’s reaction but also you can’t deny that you want to see how Jeonghan reacts. 
How can something so simple be so terrifying?
When everyone was gathered in the big conference room, your manager started the meeting by saying there would be a few changes happening in the marketing team. She kept her speech short and gave Seungkwan the floor.
“So as you guys know, I transferred here from a much slower branch. When I was team lead there things were very different. I adjusted well and got along well with everyone. Here, things have been tricky. Even though I get along with my team on a personal level, things have been less than ideal on a professional level. When all of this became clear to all of us, I was approached by my manager and I was informed I was going to be replaced here as team lead. I could either choose to stay here as a member of the marketing team, or go back to my previous branch as team lead” he paused then and everyone started looking around in confusion. Probably because they knew you were the team lead at that branch so what did this all mean?
“Well, I chose to stay here as a team member. I wanted to learn from the new team lead whoever that was. Initially I didn’t know who that was. The final decision hadn’t been made but once I found out who it was, I was incredibly happy to be working and learning from her. I don’t want to prolong this anymore than I already have so let’s all please, welcome the new team lead for our marketing team!” he said and started clapping.
Everyone else joined and started to look around trying to find the person who was replacing Seungkwan. 
You got in the room from behind your manager and as soon as Hoshi’s eyes landed on you, he ran to you and picked you up while screeching like an insane bird.
“Put me down, you maniac!” you said and as soon as he did everyone from your team ran up to hug you.
“Better surprise than last time?” you asked and they all nodded.
You were all in your little world and your manager interrupted you.
“Not to ruin this family reunion but do you have a few words for everyone?” she asked.
“I’m not very good at these things as you probably found out last time so I don’t have a lot to say. It was a good experience over there but not enough for me professionally. Also I missed my team and my home. And now I’m back so I’m looking forward to working and/or fighting some of you” you said and everyone laughed. 
You found Jeonghan in the back behind everyone. He had a blank expression on his face and as soon as your manager told everyone they could go, he was the first one out the door.
You were disappointed but not surprised. This reaction was very him.
Shua, Wonwoo and Seungcheol ran up to you and welcomed you back. Told you they missed you. Silvia was a bit more chill about it but you could tell she was happy mostly because Seokmin was happy to have you back. You’ll take it either way.
From then on everything went back to normal. Usual team meetings, usual interdepartmental meetings, usual lunch with everyone. After three weeks, it felt like you had never left. Seungkwan was a great addition to your team just like you thought. He may have not been ready for the team lead position but he was an extraordinary team member to your team.
Everything went back to what it was supposed to be. You were so happy to be back even if things with Jeonghan stayed the same. He never answered that text and never called you back and ever since you came back, he never spoke to you. You talked during meetings but about work only. He seemed to have found a good balance of being an asshole and simply accepting your teams’ proposals when they made perfect sense. Everything was going great but somehow, when you were alone in your office and at home, you still felt empty.
Right now you were in your office, looking out the window. The day has been going okay so far, you just didn’t feel good. It seems the more time passes like this between you and Jeonghan, the worse you feel every single day. 
As you were almost falling asleep in your chair staring out the window, there was a knock at your door. You asked them to come in and to your surprise, Shua walks through the door.
“May I come in and sit? Do you have a few minutes to chat, Y/N?”
“Hmm… Yeah, go ahead. Surprisingly, it’s been a slow day. What do you need to talk to me about? Is it about the Privé campaign proposal?”
“Actually it’s not work related. It’s personal” he said and you started to get nervous.
You gulped.
“Okay” was all you said.
“Look, I don’t know how your conversation went the last time you were here before you moved back but he’s been miserable since then. From what I can tell so far, you haven’t been doing much better so forgive my intrusion but what the hell happened that day?” Shua asked and you just broke down.
You started sobbing. He locked your office door and came back to you to hug you. 
You got up from the chair and you both moved to the couch in your office.
“Sorry” you said as he handed you the tissue box from your desk before sitting back down again next to you.
“I don’t know what happened. We were talking and then he just left out of nowhere. Then Sunday I asked him to meet with me so we could fix whatever misunderstanding this was and he ignored both my call and text. He hasn’t spoken to me since that day. I wanted to know what made him leave but he won’t give me the chance” you told him and you tried to stop crying.
“He told me you confessed to him and then turned him down. It didn’t make sense to me at the time but he’s sure you rejected him” Shua said and you looked back at him confused.
“I didn’t reject him, Shua. I told him no when he asked if things could go back to the way they were before with us because that’s not what I want. I… Have feelings for him. Why would I want to go back to being fuck buddies or whatever the fuck we were before?” you asked and you hoped he would understand what you meant.
“You love him and you wanted a relationship… You weren’t rejecting him, you were rejecting being fuck buddies…” he said as he looked around and scoffed.
“Love is a strong word” you told him and sighed.
“Is it though? Look at you two. You’re both miserable and for what? You should be together, Y/N. How much longer are you going to keep hurting each other?” he asked and you got offended.
“Hurting each other? He’s the one that keeps making shit decisions and not listening to me. Even when I reach out to him, he pushes me away. He’s the one constantly breaking my heart and I’m the one stupid enough to keep letting him” you said as you got up back to your desk.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to sound that way. I’m just tired of watching you both fight this. I know you’re tired of trying and being the one pushing but maybe you should do it one last time. Tell him what you told me and make sure he understands you can’t be the only one fighting for the two of you. That he can’t run away any time he thinks he heard something he doesn’t like”
“Is it worth it, Shua? To keep fighting? There’s always been misunderstandings between us, something always happens to break us apart. Maybe it’s a sign we just shouldn’t be together. Being with someone shouldn’t be this difficult. I know a good relationship means hard work but this is too much. I can’t keep fighting for someone who just runs away every time. Just avoids the issue and ignores me. No relationship can survive that”
“I’m a firm believer that nothing good comes easy. You have to put in the work. And I know he fucked up more than once and you’ve been the one carrying all of this but are you really going to let him go just because of this? A silly misunderstanding about him not getting you wanted a relationship? Think about it. He’s a literal man, Y/N. He needs things spelled out to him most times, specially when it comes to the person he loves most in the world. You’ve been through so much together that his mind just picks the negative and runs. It’s not your fault but if you think this relationship could be the real deal, try one more time. Tell him everything. Clearly, with no room for misunderstandings”
You nodded and he nodded back.
He got up to leave and as he was unlocking your office door and leaving he turned back.
“Just think about it, please, Y/N” he said and left.
When you got home that night, it was all you could think about. 
You wish you could ask someone. You had never told anyone about you and Jeonghan so you didn’t have anyone to talk to about this and share their opinion. You didn’t know if you should either. This is a decision you need to make by yourself. 
You spent the night thinking it over and you decided it was time to be brave and grow up. You wouldn’t do this through text or call. Tomorrow morning you were going straight to his office and you’re going to lay your cards on the table. You’re going to tell him what an asshole he is and that this is his last chance. If he wants it, he’ll have to put in the work from now on. No more running. No more ignoring you. Open communication or it’s not even worth starting anything back up between the two of you.
You couldn’t sleep very well. You woke up nervous and angry. You rushed to the office so you could be there early and talk to him before the day started. But of course, nothing ever goes to plan when it comes to Jeonghan, and your manager called you in to talk about the new accounts that were joining the company and what you and your team should expect from them. 
By the time you and your manager were done with that small meeting, everyone was already in the office and working hard. Shit. Should you do this now or later? Fuck it, you need this to be over with. You can’t suffer like this anymore.
You went to his office and of course, the first thing you are greeted with is Hana with her paws all over him, twirling his tie in her hand and laughing. He looked bored. He was leaning against his desk. He still let her do it though and you were beyond angry. 
You knocked on his open door and cleared your throat. 
He looked up and when he saw it was you, he gulped and tried moving away from Hana.
“Can’t you see we’re busy?” Hana asked you with disdain. 
You’re being tested. ‘Please, do not choose murder, please. Stay calm’ you told yourself as you walked in his office towards them.
“Hands off and fuck off, Hana. Don’t you have work to do? As far as I know this is a fucking office so act professional and not like a hormonal teenager or I’ll report you to your team lead and to HR” you told her and she gasped. 
Jeonghan just kept looking between the two of you and removed his tie from her hand.
“Jeonghan, say something!” she said as she turned to him and crossed her arms.
You looked at Jeonghan with a tilted head and raised your eyebrows.
“Get out, Hana. Go back to work. You shouldn’t have been here in the first place” he told her as he finally moved away from her completely and sat down on his desk chair.
She scoffed, flipped her hair, looked you up and down and finally left.
You closed his office door behind her and turned back to him.
“Am I just going to have to see that forever or do you plan on telling her to stop it anytime soon? I guess old habits die hard, huh?” you asked as you sat down in front of him.
“I’m sorry” was all he told you.
“Getting fucking sick of hearing that. I need to talk to you and you seem to ignore me through text and phone calls and even around here so you left me no choice. Do you have time now or do you want me to leave?” you asked and he stayed silent.
“Just know that if you tell me to leave, it will be the last fucking time I’ll give you the chance to push me away, so choose wisely” you continued and waited for his answer.
He continued to stay silent.
So be it.
You got up and started to leave his office.
“Stop, please. I’m sorry. Stay. Yes. Let’s talk” he said as he grabbed your hand and pulled you back, closer to him.
“I’m going to make this simple. Joshua talked to me yesterday. He told me you said I rejected you. You really need to start listening to what I say, Jeonghan. I didn’t reject you or your feelings. What I told you was that I did not want to go back to being fuck buddies. I wanted more for us. But you didn’t let me say that. You just got up and left with an assumption that I was rejecting you” you said and you could see the cogs starting to turn in his brain. He was realizing he had fucked up yet again.
“And because I was confused and didn’t understand why you left the way you did, I reached out to you. I wanted to talk it over before I left. I wanted to make everything clear between us and you ignored me again. I waited for you in my home and you didn’t even text back. That really fucking hurt” you continued and you started to cry now.
“You know that weekend I had already been given a choice to either stay there or come back here. After what happened with us, after you broke my heart again, I almost stayed there. But I chose to come back because I was always happier here. Whatever was going on with us, I couldn’t let that stop me so I came back. And you didn’t give a shit. You were the first to leave the meeting and you haven’t spoken a word to me in weeks”
You were getting angrier now. He needed to understand this was his absolute last chance and you were going to make sure you got through to him.
“When Shua talked to me yesterday, he said I should try one more time. Telling you everything clearly so that were no more misunderstandings. I didn’t want to. I can’t be the only one fighting and pushing through the misunderstandings. We can’t keep having these misunderstandings. I deserve better than getting hurt all the time because you won’t talk to me. You just run and ignore the issue and break both of our hearts. You need to choose, Jeonghan. Either you start taking responsibility and we start a mature relationship where we talk to each other about everything that is bothering us or maybe, if you don’t think it’s worth it or you’re not strong enough, we just end everything now. Completely. We’ll be nothing more than coworkers”
This was it. 
You were done.
He had all the information he needed to make his choice. 
No more ambiguity, no more uncertainty. He needed to choose to either fight for your relationship and stop being scared or let you go.
“You don’t have to answer me right now but--”
He stopped you from talking by kissing you. 
His hands were holding your face as he kissed you and you kissed him right back.
You missed him so much. He was such an asshole for torturing you both.
He backed you both up against the back wall of his office and he kept kissing you hard. 
You stayed like that for a while. Until your phone started to ring in your pocket.
It was Hoshi. He probably couldn’t find you and he needed you. 
“I need to go” you whispered against his lips and he kissed you again.
You started laughing.
“Seriously, I have to go. That’s a yes on the relationship then?” you asked, still holding him.
“Fuck yes, absolutely. I will never let you down again, that’s a fucking promise, angel”
“It better be. Let’s take it slow, yeah? I know that’s a bit of a cliché but I want us to start fresh. Going on dates, getting to know each other. Since we’re both hopeless romantics after all” you said and you both smiled.
“Anything you want, angel”
You left his office and met with Hoshi who was freaking out about something Seungkwan had said. These two will drive you insane but nothing matters right now. All you can think about is Jeonghan. You wondered how things were going to progress between you two from now on.
After a few weeks, you and Jeonghan were doing great. He started by leaving you coffee on your desk every morning with a note and he always checked on you during the day. You had lunch together every day (with your teams but still) and he took you out on dates almost every day. 
It may have been too much for some people but you wanted to spend as much time with him as possible and he felt the same. You had dinner together almost every day and you spent the weekends together. You had gone to amusement parks, gone on hikes, you had picnics by the river and so many other good things. 
You were slowly getting to know each other and your feelings for him were growing more and more every day. You hoped he felt the same way. 
You had been honest with each other about everything. You told him you needed him to put a stop to Hana following him around and being all over him. It made you uncomfortable and he agreed that was a door he needed to close permanently for both of you but also for Hana’s sake. So she could move on. He always talked to you every time he felt insecure or scared and you helped him through it. Your dynamic stayed the same. Always challenging each other and being snarky but you both loved it that way.
You had even met each others’ families already. It was funny watching your families react to you and him dating. You both talked so much shit about each other to your families that everyone was confused when you told them. His sister seemed to be the only one that knew this was exactly how you and him were going to end up.
There were a few things you haven’t done so far. You haven’t told anyone in the office, well except Shua and Seungcheol. And, you haven’t slept together yet. It just didn’t happen. You had been so focused on doing things right and getting to know him that that part hadn’t really been on your mind too much. You already knew that side of him and sure, you missed it but you didn’t want to rush anything. He seemed to feel the same way since he hadn’t made any moves towards that at all. You also haven’t told each other those three words. You wanted to. You knew you loved him. It was clear. It had been clear for a while but you were still scared about that. He hasn’t said them either which has surprised you so far but you understand. He’s probably just as scared as you are.
Next Friday was the regularly scheduled end of quarter party at your company. It was at the usual place, at the usual time and you wanted to be able to enjoy it with Jeonghan but the office still doesn’t know so you decided to ask him about it.
You went to his office during the day and brought it up.
“I was thinking… Maybe we can tell people… In the office… I wanted to go with you to the party and I can’t do that if we keep hiding this…”
“I would like that very much. I’ve wanted to do that since day one, angel”
You smiled and kissed him.
He pulled you closer to stand between his legs and you made a bolder move and straddled him on his desk chair while you kept kissing.
He pulled away from you and held your face with his hands. You moved to kiss him again and he laughed and stopped you.
“Hey… Look at me, angel…” 
You stared into his eyes deeply.
“I love you, Y/N” he said and he gulped. He was nervous. It was the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your fucking life. You smiled hard.
“I love you too, Jeonghan”
He smiled just as hard as you and he started to kiss you again. Hard. One of his hands had now moved to your ass and he was pushing you on his cock. He was hard. You telling him you loved him back got him hard. That was fucking hot.
Your kiss started to get more and more heated but neither of you could stop. Not now knowing that you loved each other. Finally hearing it from each others lips was the last straw and you got reminded of how much you missed fucking him. You could feel how desperate he was for you too and you both just couldn’t stop what was happening, neither did you want to.
“Y/N, we need your approval on this. Can you--”
Hoshi and your team barged into Jeonghan’s office and you jumped away from Jeonghan so fast. But not fast enough. Jeonghan started laughing and moving his chair towards his desk to cover his very prominent boner.
You were all silent. Hoshi, Seokmin and Seungkwan looked horrified while Clara and Sunny were smirking behind them.
“Hey, what’s going on? Why is everyone just standing here?” Joshua asked as he walked by Jeonghan’s office and saw the crowd.
He looked into the office and immediately realized you two had been caught red-handed. 
“Oh… You should really lock your doors, guys” he said as he laughed and Jeonghan laughed with him. You affectionately slapped his shoulder for him to stop.
“I need to go wash my eyes” Hoshi said but didn’t move.
“I knew it! I mean I didn’t know it but very nice, Y/N. We have to talk” Clara added and Sunny laughed and nodded.
You rolled your eyes and smiled.
“This isn’t how I wanted you to find out. We were actually going to tell you about it today” you said.
“Before or after you defiled his office?” Seokmin asked you and everyone laughed.
“Definitely after” Jeonghan answered and you were ready to kick his ass.
“Come on, let’s get back to work. We can talk about it later” you said and started to leave. You gestured at your team to follow you.
“Oh we’re talking now, screw work” Sunny said and everyone agreed.
“This is why I didn’t tell you sooner” you added and they all laughed.
You told them the truth about everything with you and Jeonghan. Except what Clara and Sunny wanted to know. That, you didn’t say shit about. They were not happy about it. 
Nothing changed from then on out. Everyone knew but it didn’t change any dynamic. Just some added jokes about you two angry fucking each other after your usual disagreements at interdepartmental meetings. 
You also informed HR about your relationship and followed all the right steps. Soon enough, everyone at the office knew. Most people were surprised but nice about it. There were a few that were angry and doing their best to ruin your relationship either by creating rumors or trying to get in between you two. Hana and Jackson. Jackson was being an asshole but he wasn’t pushing anyones boundaries or creating issues. Hana on the other hand, was trying her best to ruin this for you two.
She started rumors about him still fucking her. She constantly tried to touch him and follow him around. It was frustrating but all you could do was report her to HR and move on. It had only been a few days but she was working hard trying to break you two up. It didn’t matter. You trusted Jeonghan and he always stopped her and her rumors whenever he heard them. You two agreed she would eventually stop. This was still fresh to everyone and she needed to get it out of her system. 
You and Jeonghan were really good now and nothing she could do would change that.
Friday came fast and you were excited. This quarter was a rollercoaster but you were happy to be back here at this branch with the people you loved, in your home that you loved so much as well.
Jeonghan joined you and Clara in the Uber and you met up with everyone there.
You sat at the same table you had last time, with the same people, but so much has changed. 
This time around, you were in love with the one you claimed to hate before. You were here with him and you were going to enjoy this completely. 
Everyone was drinking and having fun. Dinner and the awards started and it was just as fun as you remembered. You had gone to a few end of quarter parties at the other branch and you never had this much fun. This was the best. This was where you belonged. With these people. With this team. With him. You were so happy right now, words couldn’t begin to explain it.
The awards had just ended and they were getting ready for the DJ set to start and you decided to get a refill on your drink. 
When you came back to the table, Jeonghan wasn’t there. You checked your phone just in case and he had texted you.
“Join me. You know where”
You smiled and got up to go meet Jeonghan in the room you first started this whole thing in.
You walked in and locked the door behind you.
Jeonghan was sitting on the sofa by the window that you sat on last time. He was in the dark again, just like last time. 
You walked towards him and sat down on the opposite end of the sofa, looking out the window.
He looked at you and you smiled still staring at the window.
“Getting sentimental, baby?” you asked, still looking out the window.
“Hopeless romantic. Remember, angel?” he asked and you laughed.
You looked at him and you stayed there looking at each other silently for a while until he sat up.
“Come closer, angel. You’re too far away from me”
You moved closer to him. As close as you could. He pushed your hair behind your ear and kissed you. Softly. Like he was scared you were going to break. This felt different. He was trying to show you in actions how he felt about you. You kissed him back and held his free hand in yours.
He started to deepen the kiss and you let him. 
You moved to lay down and pulled him with you. 
He was on top of you kissing you and you locked your legs around his waist. 
You were already wet and he was hard. It had been too long since you had been together like this. You were being desperate for him and you knew he felt the same.
You reached down and started stroking his cock through his clothes and he whined.
“Don’t play with me, angel” he told you as he stopped kissing you.
You continued to stroke him through his clothes and he was panting and moaning into your mouth. You bit your lip. He was so sexy. You were losing your mind.
He pulled your hand away from his cock and pushed your dress up your body. 
Jeonghan took your panties off and put them in his jacket pocket. From his other jacked pocket, he took out a condom and threw his jacket on the floor. 
He moved down and kissed your thighs and your mound. Close to where you wanted him but not quite there. After a while of this, he started to leave bruises on your thighs. Fuck, you were wetter and wetter.
“I can see you clenching around nothing, angel. Are you that desperate for me?”
“Yes… Hannie, please… No more waiting…” you told him breathlessly.
“Fuck…”
He got up from the sofa and took his pants and underwear off. He moved back to the sofa and started fingering you slowly. He kept kissing your neck and all you did was moan and run your hands through his hair. He started scissoring his fingers inside you. He was impatient and you both knew it had been a while. He wanted to be inside you now and he needed to make sure he wasn’t going to hurt you.
“I love you” you moaned.
He stopped kissing your neck and kissed your lips deeply again. More forceful this time around.
He pulled away.
“I love you too, Y/N” 
He put the condom on and started to tease your hole with his cock.
You whined.
“I don’t want to hurt you, angel. It’s been a while. Let me know if it’s too much, yeah?”
“Just get inside me, please… You’re driving me crazy, Hannie”
“Will you be a good angel for me then?” 
“Always” you moaned and he pushed the head of his cock inside of you. 
He was going slow. Rubbing circles on your clit, kissing you and with every stroke he pushed more of his cock inside you.
You started getting louder as he got deeper inside you.
“Not gonna gag me this time?” you asked and he laughed.
He moved closer to your lips.
“Let them hear it” he whispered and you both laughed together.
You pulled him down for a kiss and he pushed his cock all the way in until he bottomed out. You were moaning together against each other's lips.
After a few seconds, he started his pace.
Short, deep strokes, hitting the right spot. He knew your body so well. He still remembered exactly what to do to drive you crazy. 
You were both loud. Moaning and panting. Not giving a shit about anyone outside of that room.
He grabbed one of your hands and interlaced it with his.
He kept fucking you hard and whispering how much he loved you. You whispered  and moaned it back to him.
You were both close and you knew it.
He increased the pace of his fingers on your clit and increased the pace of his strokes as well. 
You started squeezing his cock and you could feel yourself closer and closer.
Jeonghan squeezed your hand and moved to whisper in your ear.
He told you he loved you but when he said he would never let you go again, it pushed you over the edge and you came. Hard. It felt different this time. More tangible. Stronger. 
When you came down from your high, his strokes were slower and he was looking in your eyes. 
You pulled him in to lay on top of you and held him impossibly close.
Much like he did to you, you whispered in his ear and told him how much you loved him. That you wanted to be in his arms forever. And he emptied himself into the condom with a moan of your name.
This time around you laid there together. Just holding each other.
There was no rush. No weirdness. Just two people that loved each other and had finally found their way back to each other.
You didn’t know what was going to happen in the future. 
You knew it wasn’t going to be easy. Nothing ever is with Jeonghan. But it certainly is worth it.
As you lay there with him you start thinking about the day you left. 
About how you thought you were both just passing through each other's lives. 
 At that time it seemed that way.
He was just a boy creating chaos in your life for a while and you were just a girl that left and used your career as an excuse.
Now you know how wrong you were. How sad and miserable your life would have been without him in it. Without him with you. Just like this. Every day.
You know that from now on, you weren’t just another person passing through each other’s lives. You were everything in each other’s lives. You were both where you belonged.
With each other. Always together, and never to be apart again.
IT’S FINALLY HERE AND IT’S A MONSTER AGAIN Another rollercoaster of emotions 😭 I hope you love this as much as I loved writing it 💕 As usual, please let me know in the comments and such if you enjoyed reading it <3  Thank you for supporting me! Happy holidays! 🎆 CHEERS 🥂
Taglist (if you requested specifically): @woofie-nctzen-fanarts, @lovrchl, @lockburn-castle, @luchiet, @deeznutzaintnutting, @cheesytangerine, @avocifera, @odetoyeonjun, @listxn, @gyubbgist, @cvpidxo, @leicy0756, @sunflowergyeomie, @whore4stucky9104, @bangtanskz, @cecefarm, @staurdvst, @haahydvhkmhhn, @tsukkisdoll, @miniseokminnies, @namjinsworld
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sincerelyneo · 1 month
Text
no judgement | l.mk
“i can be your lover or your shoulder to cry on, you can be whoever you like”
💿now playing: no judgement by niall horan
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❯ summary: Mark’s shocked to see you at his front door step crying, but he isn’t surprised. You do this all the time - get a new boyfriend and forget about your childhood best friend. And the minute that asshole dumps you, you always want him to pick up the pieces. And he will. He always does.
❯ pairings: mark x fem!reader (brief mention of yuta)
❯ genre: friends to strangers to lovers? smut, angst
❯ words: 4.9k
❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, protected sex, lowkey sub!mark, hookup, rebound sex, glasses kink, big dick mark bc yes, oral sex (m receiving), nipple play, slight begging, yuta is an asshole for the plot, reader is also kinda mean, mentions of cheating (not between mark + y/n), slight unrequited love, use of ‘pretty girl’, reader uses she/her pronouns.
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Mark thinks his mind is playing tricks on him. I mean - it would make sense - the last time he’d checked the clock on his desk it was 12:17 am. So, there’s no way the light knocking on his front door is really happening…right? 
He tries to focus on the papers in front of him - a work assignment that was due last week that he’d already managed to get an extension on. He knows his boss will have his balls if he doesn’t have it completed and on his desk by 8:00 am sharp tomorrow (today). 
However, Mark’s fears of premature insanity are put to a quick end this time when the knocking is paired with an unnecessarily loud yelling through his letter box. 
“Mark Lee if you don’t open this door right now, I swear I’ll kick your ass the next time I see you.” 
Now that - the sound of your voice - wasn’t in his imagination. 
You bang harder, clear that you're using a fully clenched fist to make as much noise as possible.  “I’m serious dude, I’ve kicked your ass before, and I’ll do it again. Now open. The. Door.” 
Mark knows he should just ignore you, pretend that he’s sleeping and focus on his work; but, he hasn’t seen you in months, and you are supposed to be his best friend after all. He can’t just leave you out on the street at this hour — he won’t — what sort of friend would he be?
He rises from his desk, removes his glasses, and places them gently on the wooden surface before pinching the bridge of his nose.
You knock (pound) again. 
“‘Alright alright, jeez, I’m coming,” he says, followed by a small curse as he ushers through his hallway to the front door. 
As he swings the door open, he’s almost hit with a nasty sucker punch to the cheek as you simultaneously raise your fist to knock again.
“Woah there, calm down, you’re gonna get me a noise complaint,” he flinches. 
“I think it’s a little too late for that,” you point to the house next door, “That woman has been glaring at me from her window since I got here.” 
Mark peers out of his house, the cold night air nipping at the tips of his ears, and sees his neighbour looking down shaking her head disapprovingly at him. He raises his hand in a feeble apology, with a tight-lipped smile to ease the edge, but it doesn’t, he knows it doesn’t and he knows he’s going to have to do a lot of ass kissing in the morning. 
“Well, Mrs Kim and her husband have just had a baby.” 
He watches you shrug then grimace, “How was I supposed to know that? They didn’t have one the last time I was here.” 
It’s now when Mark takes in the person standing in front of him, a mere silhouette of his childhood best friend. You’re barefoot, which already raises questions in his mind, and a bottle of wine is in your hand. Your hair is dishevelled and mascara smudged under the bottom of your eye – which makes sense since he can see the faded redness from where he knows you’ve been crying. 
 “So, you gonna let me in or what? I’m freezing my ass off out here.”
Well obviously, Mark thinks, you’re wearing nothing but a short black dress, covered by a thin sheer blazer leaving your legs completely bare in the middle of winter. Your teeth chatter and he has to suppress the smile threatening to dance on his lips because it reminds him of when the two of you used to mess around in the snow during winter break back in high school.
But he pushes those memories to the side, just like his front door, as he makes enough room for you to slip into his house. As you step inside, you waste no time making yourself comfortable - old habits die hard you guess - remembering how things used to be.
You remove the blazer you're wearing and walk over to Mark's desk, draping it over the back of his chair. Your eyes fall on the sheets of paper scattered across the surface, partially covered by his glasses. You recall that he had stopped wearing them during junior year, opting for contacts instead - a decision you found disappointing. You had always liked his glasses; they made him look kind of... cute.
“I’m not interrupting you, am I?”
Yes. 
“Nah, not really,” Mark shrugs following in from behind you. 
“Really?” You ask picking up a sheet of paper as you raise an eyebrow, “Marketing campaign for neo gummies, on my desk Monday 8:00 am.”
There’s a smile on your face as you read it because it’s nice to know that the Mark standing in front of you is the same as the one you grew up with. He was always the last person to hand in his college assignments, and school science projects; but don’t get it wrong, he’d always ace them. 
“Don’t worry about it, I’ve basically finished it.”
Mark’s lying, and you can easily tell by the way his arm reaches up to scratch the back of his neck. It's a mannerism you've become aware of, noticing how he used to do it when you asked him for his opinions on some of your uglier fashion choices throughout high school. 
“You sure?” You add, “I wouldn’t want you getting in trouble with your boss or anything. Especially now that you live in this fancy-ass townhouse, your mortgage payments must be crazy.”
Mark shakes his head with a smile, reaching for his glasses and putting them back on. “They’re not that crazy…”
You give him a knowing look, his living room alone is practically the size of most apartments in the city. But you didn’t expect anything less from him, he’d always worked hard for everything he had. He graduated with flying colours, found a high-paying job after college, bought a nice house; and you’re sure that one day he’d secure himself a nice girl to live in it with him. 
What you’re trying to say is Mark Lee had something to show for himself, which is more than you can say after you took a more leisurely approach to college. Mark had always worked a little too hard for your liking, or maybe you just worked a little too easy for his. Either way, he’s the one with his life put together and you’re just…standing barefoot in his living room, looking a mess, with a bottle of alcohol in your hand.  
“Well then, since I’m not imposing, how ‘bout a drink?” You suggest, waving the bottle of wine in the air in an attempt to win him over and distract yourself from your own reality. As shitty as it sounds, you come to Mark to escape the chaos of your own life, so dwelling on comparisons isn't something you want to keep doing.
For Mark though, he knows he shouldn't indulge in a drink – after all, the work assignment on his desk is practically begging to be completed. But he's always struggled to say no to you, and he's well aware that you know that too. It's why you're so comfortable knocking on his door in the early hours of the morning when most of the city is asleep; you know he'll always open up for you.
And that’s exactly why he’s heading into his kitchen and rooting through his cabinets until he finds two wine glasses. 
When he comes back into the living room, he finds you standing by the fireplace. It's not unusual, considering you were freezing just moments ago on his doorstep from your attire. However, what catches him off guard is that you're not warming yourself by the fire; instead, you're holding a picture – Mark's favourite one – taken by his parents on the day you got your wisdom teeth removed.
"No way you kept this," you groan, though there's a hint of laughter in your voice.
"Of course I did. You were completely out of it on anaesthesia, going on about marrying Lee Taemin," Mark replies.
You squeeze your eyes shut, remembering the way you sent the hot senior you had a crush on in your freshman year a DM in your high state. “Oh gosh, don’t remind me.”
But truthfully, that's not the sole reason Mark kept that picture, or why he still chooses to display it despite having hundreds of clearer, better ones of the two of you together. He treasures that particular photo because it was the day you told him you loved him – although you never brought it up again. Mark pins it down to you not remembering from the anaesthetic, but that photo, it’s the last slither of hope he has left. 
“Well, I must say, Mark Lee, you have had quite the glow-up since your high school days,” you laugh putting the picture back on the fireplace. 
Mark can't believe his cheeks are warming up as if he were that same teenager – pathetic, he thinks. And he wants to say the same about you, but he hardly recognizes you. You're a completely different person from the girl in the picture, and while he loves you, truly, it doesn't change the fact that you're a mess sitting before him.
To his defence, it's impossible not to notice it; he saw it the moment he opened the door and saw your smudged makeup and raw eyes – you’re defeated. And even though he knows precisely why, he still asks.
 "What are you doing here, Y/N?"
You swallow, “Can’t I just come and see my best friend?”
“No, you can’t.”
His words carry a double-edged sword, both an accusation directed at you and an expression of the hurt he's experienced from your repeated instances of ghosting him over the last few months. 
You begin pouring yourself a generous glass of the wine you brought along. If you were going to have this conversation with him, you weren't about to do it sober.
“Yuta broke up with me.”
And there it is. You always do this –  get a new boyfriend and forget about your childhood best friend. And the minute the asshole in question dumps you, you always want him to pick up the pieces. 
And Mark hadn't forgotten the name Yuta; in fact, it had been seared into his mind ever since you posted a picture with him on your Instagram account, looking all lovey-dovey. And then Mark had gone into full stalker mode – because of course he did – he always did. But the thing with Yuta was that he was one step ahead. One particularly awful day at work, when Mark wanted to check your account, he found himself blocked.
Honestly, Mark doesn’t blame Yuta, he’d be lying if he said all his thoughts about you were completely innocent, but you’d never blocked him over a guy before. He's accustomed to the isolation, the ghosting, and the personality changes that come with you getting a new boyfriend; but being digitally blocked by you was a new low. It's safe to say Mark had already formed his opinion about your new ex-boyfriend: he was definitely an asshole.
"Why did he break up with you?" he asks, not out of genuine concern, but rather out of selfish relief. Still, he knows it's the right thing to do.
“He found someone else, or I found him fucking someone else,” you spit bitterly, “and do you know what? That fucker didn’t even give me a chance to grab my shoes before he kicked me out.”
You take a long gulp from your glass, the liquid burning slightly as it goes down your throat, and then you flop back on the sofa. Your movements are heavy, weighed down by more than just the alcohol in your system. As you sink into the cushions, a wave of emotion crashes over you, threatening to engulf you completely. It's a moment of vulnerability that you've been holding back, and tears prickle at the corners of your eyes. You try to fight them, push down the rising tide of emotions, but it's futile. 
"Hey, hey, it's okay," he reassures, quickly taking a seat beside you on the sofa and resting a gentle hand on your thigh, where he begins to rub small, soothing circles into your skin, just like he used to do. "You can stay here tonight."
You groan into your hands, you can’t believe you're acting like this – pathetic – and it has you immediately defensive. “Don’t look at me like that,” you mutter, so quiet Mark almost misses it.
“Like what?”
“All judgy.”
“When have I ever judged you, Y/N?” he questions, his tone gentle, “I’m always your shoulder to cry on, we’re past the judgement stage,”
"I don't cry that much," you protest weakly.
“Well…” he starts, that teasing look in his eye you love.
In response, you push his chest playfully, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Because you’ve missed this – missed him.
And that’s the part that always stings the most: how effortlessly you two slip back into each other's company. Despite not speaking for a couple of months, it's like you didn’t lose any time. And perhaps that's why Mark finds it so easy to keep forgiving you, and why you find it so natural to slide in and out of his life and then expect him to mend your broken heart.
Mark grabs the hand you used to push his chest and looks at you seriously but gently, “Seriously, Y/N, you can just be yourself with me, just like it’s always been.”
His words resonate with you, stirring something deep within the pit of your stomach. You meet his gaze with glossy eyes, and in that moment, you feel an overwhelming surge of emotion. Without hesitation, you lean in and press your lips to his. 
It's a tender kiss, soft and sweet just how you expected Mark’s lips to be. And he melts into it just as much as you do, if not more so. It’s like he craves it, like he’s hungry for it. And he is because you – his first-ever crush, the girl he’s been in love with since he could remember – is pressing her lips to his. The teenager in him is jumping up and down right now.
Just as you're about to deepen the kiss, your face bumps into his glasses, causing both of you to pause as they sit askew on his face. Mark blushes and begins to fumble with them, but just as he's about to take them off, your hand wraps around his and stops him.
“Mmmm. Keep ‘em on,” you bite your lip as you reposition them on the bridge of his nose. “I like them.”
“I didn't realize you had a glasses kink,” he teases.
“Neither did I...just like them on you.”
That triggers something inside of him because his tongue lightly sweeps over your bottom lip where he nips it with his teeth. One of his hands reaches up to cup the nape of your neck; the other finds its way to the hem of your dress, intrusive fingers brushing over your bare skin, making you gasp.
He stills.
Did he just fuck this up? Was he reading it wrong?
There’s a fraction of a beat where you just breathe against him, and Mark feels a twinge of self-consciousness. And just when he’s about to apologise, you dive into him and all reservations are thrown out the window as you give him the green light. 
His hand wraps around your waist and he pulls you over his lap to straddle him. It gives him all the access he needs to grab your thighs and lift you up as he stands. He keeps your lips connected as he wraps your legs around his waist, pressing into you just enough to feel the swelling in his crotch. 
If you thought he was hungry for it before, now he’s starving. 
Your arms wrap around his neck, your breasts crushing against his chest. Your hips start to move against him without any control, almost like it’s instinctual. You suck on his tongue and he groans. And God if it isn’t the sexiest sound you’ve ever heard. 
“You feel so fucking good, Y/N,” he says into your mouth, “Are we really doing this?”
You smile against his lips, “We’re doing this.”
You both take that as a confirmation to go harder, kissing like you’ve been starved of each other for years, and Mark supposes you have. His body moulds to yours and you feel his hand wander to your ass making your dress lift as he carries you out of the living room. 
When you see him heading for the staircase you know exactly where his head is at, and when he opens his bedroom door with you still in his arms, you feel wetness pool right between your legs. 
He drops you on the bed so gently and carefully not to hurt you – because even though he’s so goddamn horny right now – he’s still Mark. When your back hits the whites of his sheets it gives you a moment to look at him, his chest is heaving, lips swollen and cheeks flush. His hair is tousled and it makes your blood run cold. 
He looks like pure sex. Hot sex. Good, filthy, all-night-long sex. And you want him, more than you’ve ever wanted any man before in your life.
Mark kneels on the bed in the space between your legs, coming close enough to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, and you wonder if he sees you the same way you see him right now. He brushes your cheek gently with his thumb and you lean into his caress and plant a small kiss against his palm. 
His lips meet yours again as his hands slip between you two. They glide up your leg, to your stomach to under your dress, where he finds you not wearing a bra as your nipples pebble under his rough hands. 
Instinctively, your arms stretch over your head, reluctantly breaking the kiss so he can tug the material off and over you, lips crashing back together as you roll your hips into his with desperation and need. 
Mark groans when he pulls away to look at your naked chest in front of him, it’s a picture he thinks. One that needs to be hung up in an art gallery or some shit – actually now that he thinks about it – he hates the idea of you being on display like that for someone else.
His fingers wind themselves in your hair, a delightful shiver skittering along your body as you soften into his touch. You can’t help but grin suggestively as you look him in the eyes, top teeth holding down on your lower lip as your hands creep low enough to hook into the band of his pyjama bottoms. 
Mark practically whimpers as your hand teases at the elastic, “Please.”
The plea has you smiling wider, knowing exactly what he wants. You remove his bottoms without a second thought, the same time he strips from his t-shirt. His cock springs free, thick and long and straining so eagerly for you. 
You get a thrill knowing you’re the one who’s made him this hard and that makes you want to please him badly. So you do, taking control and flipping him over to be underneath you. He gasps at the motion and then he almost cums untouched at the sight of you kneeling between his legs, lowering yourself down just enough to kiss the tip of his cock.
The teasing touch sends a chill right through him. He leans back on his arms just to see you, eyebrows strained as he concentrates, glasses slightly fogged – he wants to remember exactly what you look like like this. You’re intoxicating, strong enough for him to get drunk on.
“So pretty,” he murmurs under a soft breath and you blush.
You lick your lips, focusing on his cock, flattening your tongue from the base all the way up to his head, where the slit is leaking with pre-cum. You hear him suck in a breath and it makes you smile. 
You like knowing he’s needy, teasing him to ignite small reactions, but continuing to do so would only be hell for you; because right now you want nothing more than to suck on his cock like it’s the last thing you’ll ever taste. 
You wrap your hand around his shaft and don’t waste another second before your mouth is sinking to suck on him. You manage all you can – there’s a lot of him – and use your fingers to move up the length you don’t swallow, stroking him painstakingly slow.   
As you kiss and lick at him, Mark is going mad because it’s your mouth. Your mouth is wet and hot and currently wrapped around him good enough that his thighs have started trembling. 
It’s not long before his hands find your hair and he helps you to slide more of his cock inside, knowing exactly when to stop instead of making you take too much. But he’s big and thick and your mouth barely covers him – which he hates – it feels like a reminder that he’s not made for you. 
The thought has him letting out a growl, which catches you by surprise from the whimpering mess he was seconds ago. The grip he has on your hair tightens. 
“Fuck, Y/N, suck me harder…” The dirty words sound dominant at first, but they trail off as you continue sucking on him, a lot like you’re melting him, and you fucking love that idea. 
The thought of having him be so desperate for you is making you wetter and needier. And it’s that need that has you reaching up to graze his nipples with your fingers. Mark finds the chill of your cold digits distinctive, responding with a mewl that rings between the walls of his room. 
You can't believe such a small touch makes him so…responsive. 
Every tug on his sensitive peak is enough to pull a sound from his pink lips, enough to make him writhe his hips and edge his cock further into your mouth. 
You twist and pinch and watch as Mark’s face twists in the feeling, mouth dropping open to release a stuttered breath. It’s so sensual - so carnal. 
You pull off his cock with a sickening pop, looking up at him with spit-covered lips. “Who would have guessed your nipples would be so sensitive?” 
Your hand stays at a steady pace, stroking him slowly as you speak. Mark shivers from the loss of your warm mouth around him, but there’s still a part of him that’s glad you stopped. But not because he doesn’t want this — he does, so badly — but because he was starting to feel his cock’s overwhelming urge to twitch with his orgasm. And there was no fucking way he was going to cum before he’d even buried himself inside you. 
In a cooling breath, he replies, “Only sensitive for you.” 
Warmth flushes on your face, and the arousal soaking between your legs begs to soak his cock. He’s so cute when he is all red-faced and whiny, eyes closed tightly as his brows knit together. And you suppose his own state of neediness triggers yours. 
“Want you inside of me now, Mark,” you pant, “Need it.” 
“Fuck~” his voice drips like honey as he moans, hands moving to grab at your waist to flip you under him.
You push yourself further up the bed and he crawls after you. It’s only now he realises the lace barrier still on your skin standing between you and his cock. Your panties are dark blue and they look so pretty against your skin.
He leans down, kissing the inside of your knee, letting his fingers slip up your ankle to cradle your smooth calf.
“Sometime tonight,” you tease.
But Mark likes to go slow, he likes to savour in your sight, study your body to remember every detail for his next late-night fantasy. He wants to bask in you being so bare and so ready for him — not your ex-boyfriend — him. 
He skims his hands further up your bare legs until he slides your underwear down and disregards them somewhere on the floor. Then, he wraps his arms around you, holding you close, pressing your chests together skin to skin. He likes it like that — being so close and so intimate with you that it's almost raw. 
He reaches into his nightstand and pulls out a condom. You don’t take your eyes off him once as he rips it open with his teeth and rolls it down the entirety of his length. Heat pools in your stomach because this is happening — and that makes your pussy throb. 
He keeps his eyes on yours as he lines himself up with your entrance, pushing inside of you, breathless. You can’t help but sink your head back into the mattress, eyes closing.
“Eyes open.”
You lazily blink them open.
“Eyes always on me pretty girl,” he demands, thrusting into you. 
You’ve never felt anything like him. You feel so full. He’s everywhere. Even your lungs and head are filled with him.
“Taking me so well pretty,” he groans.
His praise has you gushing, whining with the feeling of him stuffing you. It’s not awkward like the first time having sex with someone can be. It feels like you’ve always been doing this.
“You’re okay?” he asks.
He sounds calm, but you can see the restraint that he’s barely holding on to by the tightening in his jaw, and the tension in his brow.
“More than okay. Just fuck me, Mark. Please.”
He brushes his lips over yours and whispers, “Oh I plan to.”
You smile, but it’s quickly gone as he starts to move, fucking you slowly, then quicker and quicker, and harder and faster. The headboard is banging against the wall, surely denting it, and you know if the neighbours weren’t already pissed about your knocking they’d definitely be pissed now. 
And selfishly, you can’t find it in you to give a shit because he’s like a machine, working thrusts into you at all the right angles to elicit sweet moans from your lips. 
You’re panting and groaning like a bitch in heat. Mind fuzzy with euphoria as your flesh slaps loudly together. If college you knew that Mark Lee, your best friend, was about to give you an orgasm she would have laughed in your face. 
But, God, the man can fuck. 
He urges you onto his cock harder, clit rubbing against his pelvic bone, each time your hips connected in powerful thrusts. 
“Oh God, Mark,” you try your best to keep your eyes open, but the pleasure is threatening to consume you. 
“That’s it. Cum on my cock pretty girl. I won’t come until you do.”
The idea makes you want to hold off forever, let him fuck you for hours just to bask in the feeling of your closeness. However, your body disagrees with that sentiment, and suddenly you’re cumming hard. 
“Shit,” he hisses, feeling your walls flutter around his length. 
Mark doesn’t slow down though, he fucks you through your orgasm like a madman, hammering deep to the hilt to chase his high. 
“I’m gonna cum, Y/N…shit…fuck…” He growls a sound so erotic in your ear, you feel like you might cum again.
He sags onto you, his body heavy but not crushing, his skin warm against yours. You touch your fingers to his cheek. 
“I don’t think I can move,” he says, breathless.
“So, don’t.”
The tips of Mark’s ears turn red at the suggestion, but eventually, he figures he needs to move — much to his dismay. He eases out of you, catching hold of the condom and pulling it off his cock. He rolls off of you and out of bed to put it in the trash before he’s back next to you, arms engulfing you in a hug. 
You look up at him and he presses a kiss on your lips before pulling back. “Are you staying?” 
“Do you want me to?”
“I asked first.” He says.
“I’ll stay if you want me to stay.”
Liar.
Mark swallows, “Okay well, I’ll get us breakfast in the morning then, yeah?”
He says it but he knows come the morning you’ll have slipped out in the middle of the night because this isn’t the first time he’s had sex with you. 
Mark has always been your rebound. Yes, he’s your best friend, but he’s also your favourite hookup call when your boyfriend’s being an asshole.
And he knew that when he first heard you knocking on his front door. He knows you'll never change – and strangely, he's content with that, he’s accepted it. Because even though he knows you'll move on again, he doesn't mind keeping your secrets safe until the next time when you want a man to heal your heart.
Because Mark will settle for being a pity fuck if it means he gets to be a constant in your life.
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llamagoddessofficial · 3 months
Text
An HMF x OC commission from @radpunch that made me swoon ❤️ any chance to write this big lug, I'll take!!
---
It was love at first sight. 
Looking out his car window was, oddly, one of the few joys he still had. It was such a strange thing to look forward to. Papyrus wouldn’t allow him to drive anymore, given the state of him, and although it frustrated him to lose his agency having a driver meant he could sit in the backseat and stare out of the tinted window. 
... He was sick and tired of the way everything would stop when he entered a room. He was sick of the world that refused to forget the parts of him he wanted to forget, but at the same time, forgot the things he desperately wished to hold onto.
His eyelight rolled over the street, taking in it all. The colours, the sounds, the sights. He could almost forget what had happened to him. He got the sense of normalcy he had been missing, craving, for so long; nobody could gawk at him like they usually did, nobody even knew he was there. From the safety of that bulletproof box he could see how the normal world went on. People bustling up and down the streets, moving in and out of stores, chatting with friends or arguing with each other, laughing and yelling and living their lives.
How things used to be.
His eyelight landed on something that should’ve been another normal sight. An entirely unremarkable flower shop, sat between a cafe and small family market. It was the kind of area he and his brother would’ve collected protection from in the early days of their ‘business’. There were flowers arranged outside of the store, grey metal buckets full of bouquets set spaced across a low wooden table.
... There was a human woman tending to the flowers. Your apron was the same colour as the store’s green banner.
...
His Soul stilled inside his chest.
“... stop the car,” he said, before he even knew he was speaking.
You weren’t doing anything particularly incredible, nor noteworthy. You blended in with the rest of the people on that busy street - standing outside your shop. Watering the plants? Pruning them? He couldn’t tell from this distance.
Impressively, the driver had heard his mumbled command, shifting down a gear despite the look from the bodyguard in the passenger seat. 
“Where would you like to get out, sir?”
... It was strange. But Sans missed the days when his drivers would question him. It just wasn’t the same now that nobody ever even thought of challenging his word. Sir, this isn’t where we’re stopping. Sir, Papyrus said we must be there at eight, we cannot pull over. Sir, I’m under express orders not to let you go to the bar. 
Now, even the slightest sign of questioning would probably be considered stupid. 
“... florist.”
Sans didn’t miss the second strange look the bodyguard gave to the driver. He would’ve felt anger at that, usually, but instead he watched intently as you headed into the shop.
The driver pulled up to the side of the road, a few cars’ distance from the entrance to the store. Sans opened the car door. 
“How long will you be, sir?” the guard asked. 
Sans didn’t reply; he often didn’t, these days. He merely stepped out of the car. He knew the driver would wait.
The second he exited the vehicle, Sans saw the world around him realise he was there, and react with its usual amount of terror and disgust. His presence was always a blight. People in the street immediately began to stare, freezing in their path, refusing to cross in front of the giant that had just appeared. A mother with a child who had been walking their way suddenly spotted him, and jerked her child by the arm, turning the two of them around and rushing in the other direction.
Usually, he only had to pretend that he didn’t care. But this time, he genuinely didn’t. 
... He was excited.
Sans made his way over to the flower shop, ignoring all the tiny people that flitted away from him. His Soul was... beating. It was beating, thudding against his ribcage. 
He opened the door, ducking slightly under the frame. A tiny bell chimed.
... It was such a quaint little store. Clearly strapped for space, every corner was occupied with pretty things; while one wall was dedicated to shelves full of decorative pots and bottles of flower feed, the rest of the store was bursting with different kinds of blossoms, arranged in all kinds of creative ways. Every taste was catered to - elegant bouquets of dark paddle-leaves and pale lilies, stringy minimalist green stalks dotted with clusters of tiny blossoms, extravagant bunches of pink that more resembled floral fireworks than anything natural. A blackboard displayed bouquet prices, with sweet little illustrations of the various bridal styles available. *Please note that out-of-season flowers might be more expensive!
And at the far end, behind the counter... by far the prettiest thing in the whole room.
You.
Whatever had happened to him in the car, it happened again. His chest was tight, his head was swimming. His Soul felt heavy, and hot, he was certain it had manifested itself inside his ribcage - it felt as if it was twice its usual size. Everything was brighter, more saturated.
You did look at his head crack when he entered. Everyone did. You glanced up from the bouquet you were organising, a classic bunch of perfectly red roses; but your eyes quickly skirted away from the injury, aware that you were staring, and probably not wanting to be rude. It was more politeness than most bothered to afford him.
... Then you smiled at him.
He literally felt his Soul pulse. All his breath escaped him at the same time. You were smiling? At him? People didn’t smile at him anymore, not genuinely. Their smiles were sly and patronising when they assumed he was stupid, or desperate and weak when they were a cornered animal doing their best to appear nonchalant in the face of a predator. 
This smile... your smile...
“Hi sir,” you said, in a voice like a lullaby. “what can I get for you?”
What could you get for him? He hadn’t even started thinking about that. He had just seen you across the road, and followed you like a lost dog. His eyelight scanned the shelves; he couldn’t say he’d ever been into a florist before, nor that he knew how to order a bouquet.
“... what’s...” For the first time in a long time, he was really really trying to get his words right. He was willing to put in the effort. “... your name?”
“Dove. You?”
It took him a moment to remember his own name. 
“sans.” 
Everything about you was soft. You had little lines around your smile that he wanted to trace with his claws. “It’s nice to meet you. Is there anything you’re looking for?”
you. “... just flowers.”
To his surprise, you giggled. It was a small sound, but it shot through him like lightning.
“Of course. My bad.”
“... was lookin’ for... somethin’ pretty.” He stared across the room at you, emboldened by your laugh. “... think i already found it, though.”
You went pink, and looked down at the counter.
Sans was... 
... Well, he was shocked. 
When was the last time his attention had incited anything except absolute terror? Regardless of gender, even just a glance from would make people shudder and cower, retreating into themselves. But here you were, blushing at his first attempt at flirting in what must’ve been years. He almost didn’t know what to do with himself.
... He couldn’t remember a single instance, after his injury, where he genuinely wanted someone. He had a vague aesthetic interest in a member of a rival gang, once, but she’d been so frightened by him staring at her that he quickly gave that up. He hadn’t felt these kinds of feelings in a long time. 
... In fact... now that he was looking at you and your lovely nose and lips, he couldn’t remember a single instance before his injury when he felt this strongly about someone. His younger self had been a playboy who chased anything pretty and distracting. 
He’d never felt these warm, intense, fluttery sensations before.
It felt like love.
“What’s the occasion?” you asked him. “For the flowers, I mean.”
He approached the counter. “... a gift.”
“Are there any particular flowers or colours you have in mind?”
“... which... flowers do you like?”
Your blush hadn’t gone away. Was he just seeing things because he was desperate, or were you leaning on the counter like that to be flirtatious? “Oh... I know it’s stereotypical to say as a florist, but I can’t pick a favourite. I like so many of them.”
His eyelight lingered on your neck. He didn’t want to make assumptions and scare you off. But at the same time, he wanted so much. “how come?”
“Well... there’s a lot of folklore behind flowers. Pretty much all flowers have certain meanings.” You kept fiddling with the roses, changing the position of blooms. “The Victorians were really into it, they got super specific, even down to which hand you gave flowers with. Nobody really cares about that kind of thing nowadays, they just want the bouquets to look good. Which is fair enough. But every time I find out the hidden meaning of a flower, I think about how someone long ago must’ve loved that flower enough to give it so much meaning. And I get all emotional.”
You looked up at him, your eyes glistening in the light. He dug his thumb into the side of his index finger to stop himself from reaching out and caressing your face.
“... Y’know, it does make me laugh, sometimes, when people pick rude flowers without knowing their meaning.” You looked up at him from under your eyelashes. “They have no idea they’re sending a bouquet that would’ve meant ‘I don’t trust you, and I’m extremely disappointed with you’.”
He couldn’t help but smile when you smiled. That... was kinda funny. Papyrus would like this sort of thing.
“what kinda messages... can you send?”
“Almost anything.” You moved the roses to the side. “I can’t say I know many off the top of my head. Romantic love, platonic love, wisdom, bravery. There’s a lot for love. My favourites are the mean ones, though, because it’s so funny to me - orange lilies used to mean hatred. Could you imagine getting orange lilies delivered to your door?”
... He chuckled. He could listen to you talk forever. 
“... could i...” he hummed. “... get somethin’... with a meaning?”
Your whole face lit up. You beautiful thing.
“Of course! I don’t think I’ve ever actually gotten to make a bouquet that uses flower language." You were beaming. "What message were you thinking of?”
He looked right into your lovely, shiny eyes. “love at first sight.”
... He could see exactly how your mind worked, in that moment. There was an instant of surprise, then a glimmer of flattery and embarrassment, it came with another flash of warmth across your face that only deepened the colour in your cheeks. He could tell you were immediately trying to pull yourself back, convincing yourself he couldn’t mean you, reigning in the sudden feelings.
“Whoever it’s for must be very lucky.” You tucked some hair behind your ear. If only you knew. “Hold on, just let me grab my flower language book.”
You rushed over to a shelf. As you did, he looked down to double check that his Soul wasn’t shining through his clothes.
“Here.” You came back quickly, holding the book in question, already leafing through it. It was a faded beige, with beautifully illustrated blossoms on the front, encased in an embossed golden border. “This should help.”
He wanted to purr. You were so cute. Moving around with so much excitement, he liked when you were excited.
“There’s a few, I think. You’re in luck, we have these in stock.” He wasn’t paying attention to the book, he was just looking at you. “Thornless roses - gloxinia too. This one says that lilac roses are good to represent first love. We could make some really nice arrangements with these shapes and colours.”
just keep talking, was all he could think. talk to me forever...
Eventually, you looked up at him, still smiling. He had to physically fight the urge to just pick you up and walk out the door. “What size were you thinking?”
“... whatever... you think... looks best.” He wanted you to have fun with it. “... money’s... no object.”
“I think something medium would be good for these flowers. Anything bigger and it'll just look silly. Any particular styles?”
“... somethin’ romantic.”
You gently giggled. He guessed that that wasn’t a proper bouquet style. Usually, when people laughed at him, he felt the urge to cave in their skull... but when you laughed at him, he laughed too, a soft chuckle escaping his massive chest. His mind was racing to figure out why you laughed, so he could make you do it again. 
“i like your laugh,” he said, before he could stop himself.
“... I like yours, too.” Your voice was sweet. Almost... coy?
He was daring to hope that, despite his gruesome injury, you liked him too. 
... The store bell let out a little chime.
Sans turned around. And, much to his immediate aggravation, he saw his guard standing at the entrance.
“Hello.” Your voice was very different to the one you were just using with him. Far more customer service, far more ‘normal’. “I’ll be with you in a moment.”
The guard ignored you, looking to Sans. “Sir, you...”
Sans’ glare must’ve said shut the fuck up fluently enough to make the man close his mouth again. 
don’t you dare. don’t you fucking dare ruin this for me.
“... Do you two need to speak in private?” You had probably lived in this city long enough to know when it was time to make yourself scarce. “It’s fine, I can go make the bouquet while you talk.”
... He nodded. 
“... sorry. s’cuse me.”
You disappeared away, into the back of the store.
...
He turned to the guard. He could feel his eyelight starting to burn, sharpening and filling with aggressive magic. 
“what.”
The guard visibly shrank into himself. Sans didn’t even want guards, he didn’t fucking need them, he could more than handle himself. But Papyrus was still shaken from the incident to this day, and wouldn’t let him anywhere without at least one armed guard.
“S-sir, we’re... we’ll be late,” he said. 
Sans didn’t care. The clowns he was meeting with would wait for him like nervous children, no matter how long he took to arrive. As the moments ticked by, the guard just withered more and more under Sans’ stare. 
...
He eventually sighed, through his nasal cavity. Being around you had softened his mood significantly. He didn't even feel like breaking anything.
“i’ll tell... pap... you tried to rush me.”
... A wave of relief passed over the guard’s face. Though Sans was the one most feared, Papyrus’ wrath was still nothing to sneeze at. 
“Here!” Your voice snapped him back to attention. He turned around, just in time to see you set an arrangement down on the counter. “What do you think? I’m happy to make adjustments.”
... It was lovely. Really lovely. He leaned in to get a closer look. He knew what lilacs and roses looked like, but he couldn’t say he’d ever seen a gloxinia before; they resembled open roses, lipstick red petals with ruffled white edges. Gloxinia and bunches of lilacs were interspersed by small lavender-hued closed rosebuds... minuscule baby’s breath flowers had been added too, on their thin stalks, floating over it all like stars.
“... s’perfect,” he murmured. You immediately smiled wider. Who would’ve known he’d grow a fondness for flowers?
He took out his wallet, rummaging until he had enough bills. It didn’t take long. He pushed them across the counter to you, and you graciously picked them up. 
“Do you mind me asking who the lucky someone is?” you asked, starting to count what he’d given.
... Sans pushed the flowers across the counter a little, over to you.
“gotta go.” he murmured. “... late.”
...
You looked up at him, blankly. It was such a cute expression on your pretty face. Again, he was restraining the urge to purr, it would just be too inappropriate to do in public. Especially with someone else right behind him. Maybe if the two of you were alone...
“Huh?”
He turned, nodding to the guard, who made his way over to the door and opened it for him. As much as he wished he could just skip the meeting and stay there in that shop with you forever, he did have business to attend to. 
You sounded flustered, behind him. “W-wait. You gave me too much,”
Sans waved over his shoulder at you. 
The walk back to the car was a blur. His soul was still thundering. He genuinely wasn’t looking at the people around him, he didn’t care what they thought. All he cared about was what you thought.
All he was thinking about was the different ways he could make you his.
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leighsartworks216 · 7 months
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Hi! I’ve been thinking about this for awhile.
Imagine Astarion walking in to see his s/o, only to see them on their knees groaning and looking uncomftarble, because of Haarlep and his promise. ”Everytime I make love with your body, you will know.”
Maybe Astarion could like try to comfort s/o through one of those times? Not in a sexual way, just doing his best to show that he’s there, maybe throwing a comment to distract them ”pretend it’s me.”
If you’re uncomftarble with this you can ignore it! Have a nice day/night!😊
I used they/them pronouns for Haarlep when applicable because the Narrator refers to them this way
References and dialogue taken from a scene in the game, transcribed by yours truly
Warnings: rape/non-con elements, swearing, crying, reference to victim blaming, references to past trauma/abuse
Word Count: 1,031
Masterlist
AO3
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It comes on like a violent shiver. You can feel hands all over you, tracing up and down your legs and chest, but you’re all alone in your tent. You try to ignore it, focus on a book or something. Anything. But it’s overwhelming. Haarlep is using your body to pleasure someone else and you can feel it all. Maybe for Raphael it was incredible - another layer of pleasure to heighten the experience. To you, it’s violating.
You curl into yourself, tugging your knees to your chest as you sit on the floor, and hiding your face from the lamp light. If you could curl up tight enough, maybe you could block it all out. It’s a useless attempt. You know nothing can stop it.
“Darling, you’re going to miss… Shit.” Astarion rushes to your side, the flap of the tent shutting out the rest of the world. He’s not sure if he should touch you, where he should touch you. But you’re shaking, and whimpering, and he wants more than anything to help. “Can I touch you?”
You lift your face from your knees, nodding as a groan tears from your throat. It should feel good, but it doesn’t. You want to squirm and dive into water and roll in the dirt - anything to get rid of the ghostly hands on your skin.
He wraps his arms around your shoulders and tugs you into him. His touch is more solid. He’s not a phantom taking pleasure in your image. You sigh with how real he feels. He brushes his fingers through your hair. “It’s the incubus, isn’t it?” he whispers by your ear. You nod and grab onto his arm. Your hands are trembling. “I’m so sorry, my love.”
“I can feel it, Astarion,” you gasp. You press your face into his chest. “Everything. Hands, just, all over me.” You can’t bear to speak out loud what else you feel. He can tell when your legs press tightly together.
“Tell me what I can do to help.”
Your mind is blank. You can’t think. You don’t know. You squirm closer to him and he draws your body into his lap, pressing his cheek to your head. He tries to be more firm in his touches. He scratches lightly at your scalp, tugs gently at the hairs at the nape of your neck. His hand runs up and down your arm, stopping only to press his fingertips against different locations that follow no consistent pattern. He can feel your tears against his skin, and he wishes more than anything to have killed that creature when they had the chance.
“Keep talking,” you whimper. A violent chill forces its way down your spine and you groan against his skin to avoid being too loud. He can’t imagine what the others would think or say.
When this happened before, it was in public. You couldn’t avoid it then, couldn’t rush somewhere private away from public eyes, and they scolded you. Told you to be quiet, teased you about liking it. It made his blood boil just thinking about it. It hadn’t been this bad then - the sound you made wasn’t out of disgust or discomfort.
“I know what it’s like to lose control over your own body. It’s a wretched thing.”
“I may as well just try to enjoy it.”
“I thought the same, once. It didn’t last. I know what’s done is done - you made your vow. But I’m sorry all the same.”
“Please,” you cry. “Please talk to me.”
He hushes you gently, pressing a soft kiss to your head. “It’s going to be okay, my dear. You’re going to get through this. And once these damn tadpoles are out of our heads, we’re marching right back to Avernus and killing that bastard.”
You chuckle, weak and wet, but it’s better than hearing you suffer. “Promise?”
“Do you even have to ask? I’d march down there tomorrow if we could.” He moves his hand from your arm to your leg. He rubs circles into your thigh with his thumb, applying various amounts of pressure as he does. Quietly, unsure, he whispers into your hair, “Can you pretend it’s me?”
He’s not sure if he wants you to, truthfully. But he’s willing to carry that weight if it means easing your suffering. It’s a sentimental thought, but it doesn’t last long as you shake your head. “They don’t touch me like you do.” There’s an edge of teasing in your voice, trying to make it a joke, but it doesn’t quite land.
“Good.” He wants to say something more, but nothing comes to mind. He’s almost… proud. Definitely possessive. If that incubus and whoever they're bedding now doesn’t know how to touch you in all the ways you enjoy, then Astarion won’t feel bad when he touches you. He would hate to ruin intimacy for you because Haarlep touches you the same way.
Your legs shake and you hold onto him desperately, wrapping an arm around him to dig your fingers into his back. You try not to dig too deep, try not to hurt him, even in your torture. It breaks his heart. A sound bubbles in the back of your throat, agonized and lewd. With just one touch of your hand to his cheek, he knows precisely what you’re asking for, and he captures your mouth with his own. It’s not romantic or sweet. It’s teeth clashing and swallowing every loud noise that would be louder if he pulled away. It’s offering you a final comfort as Haarlep desecrates you.
As your legs stop shaking, the phantom touches on your body fading, you kiss him softer, until you feel safe enough to pull away. You don’t hide your face again; you press your forehead to his. Your cheeks are flushed and stained with tears. He continues to play with your hair as he wipes them away.
“Thank you,” you whisper. A sob rises from your chest. “I’m sorry.”
He shushes you, pressing kisses to your cheeks and wrapping his arms around you. “It’s okay, my love. You’re okay. It’s not your fault. It will never be your fault. You’re okay.”
---
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