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zreamy · 5 months

Text

i'll love you forever

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

summary: you were sunghoon's first everything; first friend, first love, and first heartbreak. after years of quietly crushing on you, he was finally ready to confess. so ready to confess, that he told his parents the two of you were already dating! it was an easy enough lie to keep up and he kept it up for months, what could possibly go wrong? he thought. little did he know, you would have a falling out and stop talking for months.. and then, you'd both get invited to spend a week at home with his parents, who still believe you're his girlfriend.

genre: smut, fluff, angst, college au, childhood best friends to lovers, fake dating

warnings: minors dni, fake dating is pretty mild (sorry), she kinda doesn’t rate him at the start, these two kind of exist in a vacuum a little bit idk i had a self-enforced word count to stick to and broke it.. (im within the 10% allowance !), sunghoon in a vest, sunghoon arms, sunghoon

word count: 21,858

playlist: click here.. (for my non-spotify babes, the main song is light by wave to earth (which for some reason i put last.. whatever))

author's note: for silly @asahicore. happy birthday pooks i hope it's amazing and that u enjoy reading this when u have the time !!! LOL (lots of love) also im never writing without telling you things again this was so absurd.

to everyone else.. ok happy reading also emma did not beta read this so im sure it's missing its charm .. anyway it's for emma not you 😭 anyway i hope u enjoy regardless and lmk ur thoughts! omg this is the first fic im nervous about posting.......... please enjoy or else.

In the three years since Park Sunghoon moved away for university, he’d been doing a pretty good job of going home to see his parents. They’d welcome their baby back to the nest with open arms and wide grins. With a rehearsed level of indifference, his younger sister, Yeji, would say, “Oh, I didn’t know you were coming home this weekend.” when she saw him at the dinner table. Sunghoon pretended to only be marginally hurt by this.

In the last three months, he hasn’t so much as sent a text to his parents.

Or to you.

Ignoring texts from his mother is devastating. Between classes, he watches as, “Hi, sweetie, I love you 😍,” turns into, “Missing you, honey, know you must be busy but spare some time for your old mummy, no?” which turns into, “Getting really worried now, are you doing okay? Has something happened with YN? Talk to me, I love you, my baby boy!”

Ignoring texts from you is easy because texts from you never come.

Sitting at the end of his bed, Sunghoon rereads a text his mother sent a few minutes ago: Please talk to me, son. Really worried and YN isn’t answering calls either. What’s going on with you two?

When he leaves his room, he finds Jake lying on the couch, and with his keys in hand, Sunghoon says, “I’m going home.”

And the drive is great! At least, he tells his mum it is. In truth, the drive home without you was nearly impossible. Your ever-expanding home time playlist buzzed through the speakers in his car, but without you there to screech along to the songs, it wasn’t the same. He felt your absence the most when he stopped to get petrol and you weren’t there behind him struggling to carry enough snacks to feed a small family without offering to pay.

The look of worry on his mum’s face stirs a pit in his stomach. “Why are you so quiet these days? God, you look so tired,” she says, frowning. “Is it school? Or something with YN? It’s not like her not to text back.” Her brows crease as she whispers the word unless. She pulls him into a hug, her chin resting perfectly on his shoulder, and her comforting hand strokes the hair on the back of his head. “Breakups are never easy, honey. I’m so sorry, I know how much you love her.”

Breakups are never easy. The sentence hangs heavy over his head.

Whether she knows it or not, she’s handed him a get-out-of-jail-free card, the opportunity to set things straight, to end this mess once and for all. No further questions, and most importantly, no more lies.

For the first time since he left your flat three months ago, Sunghoon lets himself cry. He’d imagined this moment countless times, his first cry since you ended things. In his mind, it was always intense. Today, as it happens, only a few salty tears leak from his eyes, spilling onto the cuff of his sleeve, darkening the blue cotton in tiny indigo splotches.

“We didn’t break up,” he says in a small voice—for some reason. “I’m just having a hard time.” Neither statement is technically untrue, but the words taste rotten in his mouth.

The tightening grip of his mum’s arms around his body is what brings on the harsh, shoulder-racking sobs he’d been anticipating. For a while, they stand like this, Sunghoon weeping into his mum’s cardigan until she sends him upstairs to lie down, promising a cup of tea that never comes.

His childhood bedroom is chilly, so he changes into clothes he left behind and climbs into bed, pulling his duvet up to his chin. He turns his head to look at the walls and the room around him, everything is exactly where he left it in the summer. It should be comforting, but it’s weird to be home without you.

There are photos of you and him everywhere, growing up and around each other through different stages of life. The two of you together during the summer your family moved in next door, you wore glasses back then and were the first friend he’d made in his life. Sunbathing and sharing earphones at the beach, listening to music together on your iPod classic. Sunghoon in thick glasses with a stiff smile and your arm around him on the first day of high school. Wide grins at the start of this summer, the last time things were okay between you.

Overwhelmed, he stares up at the ceiling, only realising he’s crying when a hot tear slips from his eyes to tickle his ear. Because Sunghoon likes to upset himself, he screws his eyes shut and thinks about the night before you stopped talking.

Though he didn’t know it at the time, you’d left Yeonjun’s place to sit with him in a tiny restaurant on campus, the one you’d only visit to toast to each other’s heartbreaks. It had become a ritual — ever since your first year boyfriend dumped you after two weeks — to cry as much as you wanted and drink as much soju as your bodies could handle before stumbling back to your apartments.

Having spent years suffering from an unrequited crush on his best friend, Sunghoon was always the one to comfort you. But that night was different; you were there to comfort him. It was easy enough to play the part of ‘boy whose crush likes someone else’ because he spent your entire friendship in that role. He’d had no problem accepting his fate, but his composure started to slip when you met Yeonjun. It was the first time you’d dated someone who Sunghoon had reason to be jealous of. In every way, Yeonjun was better than him—taller, funnier, hotter. Sunghoon knew he didn’t stand a chance. He took it personally, you liking Yeonjun instead of him, and let his jealousy consume him from the inside out.

This jealousy led him to start telling you about Minjeong—lying to you about Minjeong, and his feelings for her. She was a girl from a college out of town that he saw on his Instagram Explore page. He followed her by accident, and by some stroke of luck, she followed back. Sunghoon didn’t really have feelings for her — he didn’t even know her — but she was a girl that you didn’t know, so you wouldn’t be able to meddle.

It only took a few weeks for Sunghoon to become so upset about your relationship that he couldn’t hide his emotions anymore. So, in a fit of tears, he told you over the phone that things ended badly with Minjeong, and he was in urgent need of a soju ceremony.

But the night was missing its usual comforts.

It was strange to be the one crying, to see you looking put together and ordering the food. To see you pouring the drinks and raising your glass to propose a toast to ‘Hoonie’s first heartbreak’. You were driving that night, so you only had a tiny sip of soju and let him drink as much as he needed, the way he always did for you, at the same table, in the same restaurant for years.

Hours later, in your car, you entertained his drunken rambles, though he remembers how your lips were set into a frown that he wanted to kiss away while you gripped the steering wheel like you thought it would run from you. Sunghoon was more drunk than he’d been in a while, drunk enough to let you sling his arm over your shoulders and keep him upright until you reached his flat.

The voices coming from Yeji’s room disrupt the memory. He’s thankful.

“Your brother’s going through something, so be nice to him this weekend.” His mother’s voice is her version of hushed—a loud whisper.

Yeji’s response is harder to make out, but he doesn’t miss the way their mum says, “I mean it, missy.”

A dramatic sigh rumbles through Yeji as she barges into his room without knocking. Sunghoon sits up, feeling an ache in his back and crossing his legs.

“Mum told me to lay off you today, which is fine, but before I do, I need to tell you something.”

Yeji pushes the door shut behind her, and the open window makes it slam, both of them flinching from the sudden noise. She pulls her hair out of a silk scrunchie and throws herself on the floor. A pang of irritation forms in his chest, knowing that he could immediately find the empty hanger in his wardrobe where the shirt she’s wearing used to live.

“I hate you and your perfect golden boy image, Hoon. Would it kill you to fail a class for once? I don’t know how I’m supposed to carry on your legacy.” She’s looking up at him, her chin in her hands and irritation written in the crease between her thick brows.

It’s impossible to know if it’s because of Yeji’s complete lack of boundaries or the fact that her ‘perfect, golden boy’ big brother is on track to fail three out of three classes and get cut from the hockey team, but Sunghoon immediately bursts into tears.

“Oh, uh.. I’m sorry?” Yeji offers. “I was kidding if that helps.”

“I’m alright, it’s okay.” The tears don’t stop stinging his eyes. “Why do you want me to change everything about myself?”

With a frown, Yeji pours out her frustration and mild resentment. She doesn’t understand how Sunghoon effortlessly conquers every aspect of life while she struggles. Neither do their parents, who had been baffled by her plummeting grades since she moved to boarding school, especially when Sunghoon’s academic performance has only soared since he left for university. The weight of this perceived injustice pulls Sunghoon’s shoulders down with guilt as she talks about the expectations he has inadvertently set for her.

“But other than that, I’m good.” She shrugs, sitting with her legs out, and leaning back on her palms. “How’s YN?” she asks. It’s clear from the brightness in her voice that she thinks she’s helping.

Sunghoon cries again.

Back on campus, he’s trying to scrape together what’s left of his academic career with the help of two of the smartest guys he knows, and their friend Jay. Though the word ‘friend’ feels a little strong at the moment given the way Jay’s goading him.

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, sitting back in his seat. “There’s nothing you can do that I can’t,” he says, meaning every word.

Jay scoffs, shrugging and raising his brow in a way that, over the years, Sunghoon knows to interpret as his ‘about to say something ridiculous’ look. “Pretty sure I could call YN right now, and she’d answer.”

There’s a pit in Sunghoon’s stomach as Heeseung turns his head in the other direction like he’s been slapped, trembling with stifled laughter. At least Jake doesn’t hide his amusement, throwing his head back in a fit of giggles that draw nasty looks from the other students in the library. Sunghoon doesn’t waste his energy trying to argue because Jay’s right.

Now composed, Heeseung turns back to the table, flipping through some of Sunghoon’s course materials to find whatever his class was doing in class that week. The English Literature class he’s taking — The Modernist Movement: Joyce, Woolf, and Hemingway — is the same class he had to send a million emails over the summer to get enrolled in, but it’s the same one Heeseung aced two years ago. Lucky for him none of the boys seem to be in the mood to make fun of him for trying so hard to have a class in common with you, and then practically failing out of it before the term had started properly.

“This class is, like, beyond easy, dude.” Heeseung pauses to sniffle and twist the stud in his ear. “Everyone in my class aced it. How are you doing so badly already?”

“I only took it because YN thought it’d be fun if we had a class together, but.. I kind of haven’t been going since we stopped talking.” Sunghoon shrugs, pretending to be unaffected.

As if the mere mention of your name has some sort of summoning power, like saying Biggie Smalls in the mirror three times, you appear in his eye line, rounding the corner with a furious stride. Your demeanour crumbles when Jay waves at you, and you grin, waving back, but as soon as you look Sunghoon in the eye again, the rage comes back, and you smack a hand on the table when you reach it, leaning over to him.

“Sunghoon, a word?” you ask.

He thinks you’re asking, but it’s hard to tell with the way you set your jaw afterwards, and the way the warmth of your signature vanilla scent hits him hard. Dazed, Sunghoon lifts a hand, pointing at himself. “Me?”

“Does anyone else at the table answer to Sunghoon?”

“Okay,” he says, somewhat pathetically, nudging Jay for laughing at him.

As slowly as possible, Sunghoon pushes his chair from the table and stands up, following you to the corner of the references section where only anthropology students in scratchy thrift store knits, and Jay, come to check out encyclopaedias by volume. You look good, save for the rage written all over your face—which, honestly, Sunghoon thinks he likes.

Sunghoon isn’t sure what to expect, so he says, “Hey.” He’s being cautious, waiting a moment to gauge your reaction. “What’s gooooood?” His cheeks burn as soon as he closes his mouth around the vowel, but you laugh. You laugh, and it’s beautiful and happy, and you’re laughing because of him—or at him, but he’s glad either way.

Annoyance quickly clears all traces of amusement on your face. “Were you ever going to tell me we’re spending next week at Mum and Dad’s?” you ask.

Sunghoon gasps dramatically, clicking his fingers. “I knew there was something I’ve been meaning to do.”

His attempt at lightening the mood falls flat, and you only nudge his shoulder gently, sighing. “Can you be serious? For once in your life, even for a second, can you please think about how the things you say affect me?” You’re frowning, crossing your arms over your chest and looking at your feet. “It’s not fair, Sunghoon. For you to keep saying things—making plans involving me and then acting like I’m the bad guy when I turn you down.”

“I don’t think you’re the bad guy at all,” Sunghoon admits. “If anyone is in the wrong, it’s me, I guess.”

You scoff, looking at him like you hate him. “You guess? Are you serious?” You look furious, but you sound hurt and Sunghoon hates it. Hates himself. “I can’t have this conversation with you right now. Tell mum I’m sick, and it’s contagious.” You roll your eyes and walk away, leaving Sunghoon alone with his thoughts and judgemental stares from students in crochet scarves so long they graze the floor.

He sighs, slumping against the wall. How does he keep getting it wrong with you?

Back at the table, Sunghoon manages to act like he’s not falling apart and makes some serious headway on his missing assignments with Heeseung’s help before they call it a day as the sun starts to set.

When he gets home, he lies down on his bedroom floor, spending hours poring over the conversation you had. Over the minute changes in your facial expression, the tone of your voice, and the endless list of things he should have done, rather than watch you walk away.

The moment feels familiar, both identical to and worlds apart from what happened after you left three months ago. When he managed to scrape the last shreds of his dignity from the kitchen table, he dragged his feet to his room and lay down like he is now, face to the rug. That day, he left his door open and lay so still that Jake thought he was dead. Sunghoon remembers wishing he had been.

For once in your life, even for a second, can you please think about how the things you say affect me? The words run on a loop in his mind, over and over, until he can’t remember the order of the sentence or where you put emphasis. They’re cutting all the same.

Sunghoon sighs into the itchy fibres of his black rug before rolling onto his back. In the diminishing purple light of the setting sun. he looks at the walls of his room. At the Fleetwood Mac poster, he stole from Jay when they moved out of their first year dorm, that curls away from the wall towards the ceiling—a diagonal strip of shiny tape being the only indication of the otherwise invisible tear through the face of Stevie Nicks.

He’s glad when his phone rings, cutting through the quiet, though the sight of your name and the anatomical heart emoji next to it only dampens his spirit. Reluctantly, Sunghoon answers the phone, holding it to his ear.

“I just got off the phone with Dad..” You trail off. Tangible silence follows, so thick it weighs on his chest. “I’ll go home with you.”

“You will?”

“Yes. Goodbye.”

Sunghoon reaches your flat at five in the evening. You don’t smile when you open the door for him, nor do you invite him in. Instead, you dump your bag at your feet and he cringes, looking from the floor to you. You’re aggressively beautiful and cosy-looking as you pull a jacket over the sweater you wore that night. Sunghoon’s heart aches in his chest and he wonders if you even realise. Suddenly, the memory of the last thing you said the morning after hits him like a truck: Then let’s not be friends at all.

A familiar weight lands on his shoulder—your hand. Concern lines your eyes as you ask if he’s okay.

With a lump in his throat, Sunghoon nods.

In the discomfort of his car, the two of you sit in silence while he starts the drive home.

“How’s Yeonjun,” he asks, eyes flicking towards you but regretting it immediately when he sees how you clench your jaw.

“No,” you say simply, shaking your head. “You don’t get to ask me about him.”

These are the only words you exchange until Sunghoon stops for petrol. He has enough fuel for the rest of the journey, but he feels like dying and thinks the fresh air might quell his thoughts of running his car off the road. Like always, the two of you get out and head into the kiosk, where he follows you wordlessly through the aisles, watching you debate on snack choices before settling on the same things you always get. Sunghoon pays for your snacks and you roll your eyes but don’t protest, mumbling thanks as you take them into your arms, leading the way back outside.

He knows he needs to tell you before you reach the house, but he’s not entirely sure how to say it—so he just does. “My, uh.. my parents think we’re dating.”

You stop so suddenly in front of him that he almost bumps into you. Stepping around you, Sunghoon keeps walking.

Over the top of his car, he watches your face cycle through all five stages of grief until anger comes back around in the loop as you scoff. “Why do they think that?” Your face is devoid of expression now, the blankness over your features dragging a sharp chill over his spine.

He stares blankly at you, processing. “Because I told them we’re dating,” he mumbles.

“Why did you.. do that?” You tilt your head, eyes pressing shut in a long blink. “What are you even talking about? Why did you.. What?”

A thin layer of sweat coats his palms despite the cold. Why did he do that? “We can stage a breakup during the trip or say we broke up right now,” Sunghoon offers. “Just one night, YN, please.”

The wind whistles by, ruffling your hair and jacket that you hug tightly to your chest. Behind you, Sunghoon takes note of the group of girls standing by the pumps, all five of them jerking their heads abruptly when they notice him watching, suddenly finding interest in the scattered litter and flickering halogen bulbs in the steel canopy over their heads.

You’re staring when he looks back at you, nostrils twitching with a sniffle before you sigh. “Or we could say that you’re a liar and end things there,” you say. “Or better yet, you go down there on your own and tell them the truth.”

Sunghoon’s gaze drops, his thoughts racing in his mind. He knows you’re right. At some point, his parents will have to find out, and it’d be better for them to find out now. Sunghoon sighs, nodding. “Alright,” he concedes. “I’ll take you back.”

An angry laugh comes out of you as you shake your head. “No need, I’ll walk.”

The station you’re at is neatly nestled in the middle of nowhere, on a road so narrow he’s not even sure it has a pavement. You’re halfway through the three-hour drive, so there’s no telling how long the walk would be, never mind the fact that the sun is already setting and it’s deep enough into October for the wind to sting.

“From here?” he asks, incredulous.

“Yes, open the boot so I can get my bag.”

Sunghoon can only bring himself to say your name, a desperate whisper.

“Open the boot.”

He repeats your name as if it’ll make a difference, he’s pleading with you, begging—though he doesn’t know for what.

You go to the back of his car where Sunghoon joins you, a pit in his stomach when you step away. With misty eyes, you look up at him and his heart breaks. “Please.”

Sunghoon knows you well enough to know that you’re not actually going to attempt the walk home but also knows that you won’t back down if he keeps challenging you. He nods, opening the boot for you and getting into the driver’s seat—your move.

You stand there, unmoving, and long enough passes that he thinks you’ll actually leave. The boot closes softly and you join him in the passenger seat. You sigh, buckling your seatbelt. “Let’s just get this over with.”

For the rest of the journey, you sit in silence as Sunghoon briefs you on the relationship, fighting a smile as he thinks about being your boyfriend—even if only for a night. You scoff when he ‘reminds’ you that you’ve been together for four months now and the only reason you haven’t been able to come home recently is that your schedules don’t match up very well anymore—which couldn’t be further from the truth as, before term started, you went out to celebrate the fact that your class schedules couldn’t be more suited for seeing each other.

Finally, at Sunghoon’s childhood home, the two of you smile and laugh for his parents before going to bed. Your relationship has only made his mother more averse to the idea of you sharing a room under her roof than she had been when you were younger. He’s relieved about this, and in the solitude of his bedroom, he lies on the duvet of his twin bed, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about the last few hours.

With his parents, you’d sat up in the living room watching TV. They sat on the couch together, his mum nestled in his dad’s side, while you two sat on the couch opposite, mirroring their position. If your complete stiffness was anything to go by, you were less than comfortable with his arm around you and Sunghoon felt terrible for begging you to go along with this. It was after midnight when you all went upstairs and you let him kiss your forehead before all but slamming the door to the guest room in his face. His heart twirled and his mum beamed at him before saying goodnight again.

Now, at 3 a.m. he can’t sleep. Flinching at the knock on his door, he furrows his brows and goes to open it. It’s you. Standing there with your hair scraped away from your face in one of his t-shirts. Your eyes are red, brimmed with tears as you step into his room and sit on his bed.

He closes the door softly, heart aching at the sight of you so upset, and when he sits next to you, his heart tears apart because you move over, putting a distance between you. It falls out of his chest onto the floor when he realises you’re not wearing your necklace.

Sunghoon suspected you might have stopped wearing it, it only made sense that if you didn’t want him, you wouldn’t want the necklace he bought for you either, but at least earlier, your sweatshirt sat so high he couldn’t see if you had it on or not.

It was a gift for your sixteenth birthday, after your first heartbreak. He was so upset and angry that you let some loser hurt you that way, upset and angry that someone could be loved by you and fuck it up. Sunghoon was inspired by Jay, who’d gotten a pretty necklace for his girlfriend, and talked about her cute reaction for weeks, how happy she was to have a piece of him with her all the time. It was a locket, with a picture of Jay in one side and a picture of her in the other so the pictures would kiss when she wore it.

While at the jewellers with Jake, Sunghoon thought something like that might be a bit much for the two of you and eventually picked out an equally pretty piece with his first initial on it. He wrote a corny note to put in the box, something about how ‘boys come and go but Sunghoon is forever’ and gave it to you with trembling hands a few nights later—it was the first time he ever made you cry. Immediately, he thought he’d done something wrong and was ready to snatch the box and run back to the jewellers (even though he trashed the receipt). You hugged him and told him you loved him. Sunghoon’s been riding that high ever since.

Until tonight at least.

“Are you okay?” he whispers.

“I’ll do it, Hoon.” Your eyes lift from the floor to meet his gaze. “For as long as you need me to, I’ll pretend.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, Sunghoon feels lighter, an unbearable weight slipping from his shoulders. You haven’t called him ‘Hoon’ in ages, and he can’t tell if you’ve said it out of vulnerability, or even noticed that you’ve said it at all, but it warms his heart nonetheless. However, he’s not fully at ease, still curious about your sudden change of heart and why you’re crying.

“What happened?”

You pull him into a hug, and his eyes bulge out of his head. “It doesn’t matter,” you say, the words muffled by the skin at the base of his neck.

For as long as he’s known you, you’ve smelled like vanilla, a sweet warmth that grounds him. Yet it’s only after these months apart that he’s able to put a name to the sensation: home. The realisation of how much he’s missed this feeling, missed you, floods him with a rush of emotion so overwhelming he can’t find the words to press the issue. A moment passes before he remembers to hug you back, his arms finally wrapping around you, pulling you close, and you sink into his hold. Months ago, he would have kissed the top of your head and mumbled reassurance into your hair, but tonight, Sunghoon settles for stroking the back of your head and hopes it’s enough.

“You can talk to me, you know? You can always talk to me.”

A heavy silence follows, sharp as a dagger—scraping his skin, making the hair on the back of his neck stand on edge and lodging itself between his shoulder blades. Sunghoon’s breath hitches in his throat when you cling onto him even tighter, shifting so close you’ve had to settle in his lap. His heart races in his chest, pounding a rhythm so loud it fills the room.

Finally, you speak, assuring him that you know and that you’re okay. At this, Sunghoon holds you as tight as he can, and neither of you speaks for the rest of the night. You fall asleep like this, in his arms, so deeply that you don’t even stir when he lies down.

Rubbing your back, he watches the clock on his nightstand, the piercing green LED digits cycling through two whole hours right before his stinging eyes until you wake up. Sunghoon presses his eyes shut, pretending to be asleep when you kiss his cheek and leave his room.

For the entire morning, you stay in your room, and although Sunghoon is concerned, he decides not to bother you. In the afternoon, he sits at the dining table with his mum, listening as she talks about work. When she asks him, he gets up to make a cup of tea for her. It’s at that moment when you finally come downstairs, looking so effortlessly pretty. Your hair is still damp from the shower, and you’re bundled up in one of his old sweatshirts. There’s a bright grin on your face that leaves his heart thudding.

“Baby!” you squeal when you see him, charging towards him and wrapping your arms around him from behind. “Good morning.” Your words are muffled against the back of his t-shirt, and the four-letter word, and the sugar coating it, make his cheeks burn.

“It’s great to see you too, YN,” his mum says with a smile. “My night was amazing; I slept very well and had no dreams.”

You let go of Sunghoon and walk over to the table, kissing his mum on the cheek and wishing her a good morning as well. “Sorry, mum, how are you?”

His mother doesn’t seem to have the heart to correct you either, allowing your 3 p.m. ‘good morning’ to go unnoticed.

Sunghoon carefully fills both mugs to the brim and, with extra caution, carries them to the table. He places a steaming cup of peppermint tea in front of his mum and a milky coffee in front of you. A warm smile spreads across your face as you mouth a ‘thank you’, and his knees turn to jelly.

The next day, after eating an early dinner with his parents at the table, the four of you go out on a walk along the bike path you used to take for school. His parents have gone ahead, not intentionally, but because Sunghoon can’t stop you from dragging your feet.

As with most things in the town where you grew up, nothing about the trail has changed. The leaves are yellowing in standard form for the season, and crunching under his feet with each step he takes. The only foreign experience is the silence that you’re determined to uphold. Everything Sunghoon says to you is met with either a hum, a nod, or no acknowledgement at all. At this point, he feels like he could drop dead at your side and the most you’d do is step over his body like a fallen branch.

After letting you go ahead, the weathered slats of the wooden footbridge sag in the middle under his tread. It’s been like this for as long as he can remember and he wonders how nothing has been done about it. The stream rushes under it, loud and unruly, the smell of wet grass both comforting and suffocating as you look over the railing. It’s like something from a postcard, the low-hanging branches sweeping back and forth under the breeze, the grass lush and green around the path, murky water thrashing against the mud and rocks underneath with you in the middle of the frame, peering over the edge.

You keep walking when Sunghoon approaches, leaving him alone on the creaky bridge with nothing but the ache in his chest. He looks up, staring at the grey clouds in the sky through the gaps in the leaves, and sighs.

Eventually, he catches up with you, grabbing your hand and locking his fingers with yours when his parents slow down. You stiffen, looking up at him with cut eyes and a creased brow. “What are you doing?”

Sunghoon matches your clipped tone. “Holding my girlfriend’s hand.”

“No one’s looking, boyfriend.”

“You think my parents aren’t going to wonder why we’re lagging behind?”

A scoff—your fingers remain defiantly stiff. “Do you think your parents are going to care whether or not we’re holding hands?”

“My mum might after the show you put on yesterday afternoon, baby.” Bitterness covers the word like a blanket, a stark departure from how you said it.

A long sigh rumbles its way out of you before you fix your lips into a strained grin. “Sorry, sweetheart, this is my first time pretending to be in love.”

As your words hang in the air, Sunghoon’s emotions brew like a storm within him. Frustration gnaws at his patience. All hopes for a smooth week are dashed, though determination simmers in his chest with a strong resolve to make this work, to fix your relationship. It doesn’t stop the sharp pang of hurt piercing his stomach—he knows you don’t feel the same way, he knows you’re faking, but the word ‘pretending’ hits him like a truck anyway.

“We held hands all the time when we were friends,” he points out.

Your smile drops immediately, hurt flashing behind your eyes. “Yeah, and now we’re not.”

If there was a competition for who could hurt Sunghoon’s feelings the most, you’d be a shoo-in for first place. With distinction.

“Exactly!” he says, feeling the sting of his own words. “Because now we’re dating.”

At the sight of his mum turning around, you switch up in an instant. Lock your fingers with his, wrapping an arm around his bicep, leaning into him, giggling. It’s forced but his parents are far enough away that all that matters is the curve of your lips.

“You two okay back there?” she asks.

“Perfect! I feel like a kid again!” you call back, beaming up at Sunghoon in a way that makes his stomach flutter even though it doesn’t meet your eyes.

The two of you don’t talk at all when you get home, with you hugging his parents goodnight and running up the stairs.

“She’s not feeling too well,” he explains, nodding when his dad tells him to make you some tea.

His parents spend the whole day at work, and you spend the whole day following him around like a shadow until the evening when they return. He doesn’t pretend not to like it.

Sunghoon helps you make dinner, turning leftover rice into fried rice with the help of some eggs and vegetables. It’s nice moving around the kitchen with you, watching you scramble eggs in his t-shirt and bump his hip with a playful frown when he eats some of the peppers you’re chopping.

His parents watch from the table, cooing over the two of you and he does his best to fight the blush forming on his cheeks and neck. Embarrassed, he hugs you from behind, hiding his face in your neck—the scent of your coconut conditioner mixing with your vanilla perfume doesn’t do anything to stop the flush.

Over a bottle of wine, the four of you eat together at the table, swapping stories about your days. Sunghoon tries to hide his surprise as you lie about the time you spent at the play park by your primary school, competing for height on the swings and spinning on the roundabout until you couldn’t stand up. You grin at him, and it meets your eyes as you hold his hand under the table, and kiss his cheek.

After eating, his parents head upstairs, leaving to clean up together. You hum a song he’s never heard as you load the dishwasher, carefully placing the plates and cutlery in the rack, shaking your head when he hands you the glasses you’d used.

“Leave ours,” you say. “If you want.”

Sunghoon nods, putting them back on the table, where you sit in the seat across from the one he was sitting in. He sits too, staying quiet rather than saying the wrong thing. You don’t speak either. It’s reminiscent of the past—the hours you’d spend in the same room, only speaking to share a funny post you’d come across or to ask if you were hungry.

His eyes track your movements—reaching for the half-empty bottle on the table to pour yourself another glass, filling it to the brim. Before putting it down, you offer him some, filling his glass too when he nods. The three glasses of wine he’s already had must be the reason he wants to reach across the table and hold your hand, run his thumb over the soft skin on the back of it.

Sunghoon doesn’t know why you’ve been so nice to him all day or why it makes his chest hurt.

“You know you don’t have to be nice to me when we’re alone, right?” The words come out before he can stop them.

Over the top of your glass, your brows knit together. A sound of confusion, a low hum, comes from your throat as you try to finish your sip. “What?” you ask finally.

“I only asked you to do this because of my parents, you know? You don’t have to sit or talk with me when they’re not around.”

Sunghoon’s known you long enough to recognise the look that flashes across your face. The way your eyes narrow and your brows tug together, the little pout that sets on your lips before you speak; you’re hurt.

“Why can’t I just be nice to you because it’s the right thing to do?”

Because it hurts, is what he wants to say. He wants to cry, to beg you to forget everything he said that day. “Because I don’t want to make you any more uncomfortable than I already have.” Is what he settles for.

Your face softens. “I don’t feel uncomfortable around you, Hoon. We were best friends for ages, I don’t think you could ever make me uncomfortable.” You pause to take a gulp of wine. “Why can’t I just want to be nice to you?”

Sunghoon has to chew on his cheek to distract himself from how much your word choice stings. The implications of were and all of your past tense. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“What for?”

“Everything.”

There’s a sadness in the way you run your fingers on the base of your glass. The way you chew on your lip, how your hair falls when you tilt your head and how it moves when you shake it. “It’s not your fault,” you say. “I don’t know anyone who would choose to have unrequited feelings for their best friend.”

Wow, he thinks. You’re on a roll. Sunghoon wonders if you’re meticulously choosing your phrasing to upset him. Wonders why you feel the need to remind him that his feelings aren’t reciprocated as if he didn’t live through and spend hours reliving the day he confessed.

“But I didn’t have to tell you about it. It was unfair of me to spring that on you when I knew about Yeonjun.”

“Did you.. did you think I was going to leave him for you?”

“Maybe?” Sunghoon chews on his lip—he has no idea what he thought would happen. “I think I thought I loved you enough for both of us, that you might play the part for fun or out of curiosity, and.. I don’t know, just learn to love me.”

“Hoon,” you whisper, frowning. “How could you even think about settling for something like that?”

Sunghoon shrugs. “It’s not settling if it’s you.”

Silence takes a seat at the table after he speaks, interrupted only by the ticking clock on the wall—a glittery mess of scrapbooking paper and washi tape layered over each other that Yeji had decorated at summer camp years ago. You’re picking at your fingernails, letting flecks of black polish fall to the table, stark against the varnished oak.

“I know it’s not my place to ask,” Sunghoon starts after a while, hesitant and only continuing when you nod. “But what did Yeonjun say when you told him? About.. everything?”

You take a long sip from your glass and sit quietly for so long that he thinks you’re not going to answer him—he doesn’t blame you.

“I didn’t.”

He waits for you to elaborate. You don’t.

Sunghoon nods slowly, deciding not to ask any follow-up questions. Instead, he takes another drink, scrunching his nose at the bitter taste. “He didn’t ask why we stopped hanging out?” he blurts out.

“I told him we fell out but I didn’t say why.” You shrug, but your posture is stiff.

“Where did you tell him you were going to be this week?” He knows it’s not his business at all, that he’s pushing your boundaries, but he can’t help his curiosity.

“Nowhere.”

“You told him you were staying on campus?”

“I didn’t tell him anything.” Your gaze shifts, avoiding his as you toy with the stem of your glass. You drum your nails against it, letting the dull clink ring out.

“So you just left?”

“Does it make a difference to you?”

Sunghoon nods.

For a while, you tug at the drawstrings on your hoodie, pursing your lips to the side, considering this. “Yeonjun and I aren’t together anymore.” Your admission is so shocking that Sunghoon’s jaw drops. He tries to cover his surprise by coughing, his tongue sticking out like a small child. “I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want you to think it was because of you.”

Sunghoon’s thoughts move at lightspeed, too fast for him to catch onto any of them and process this information. His emotions compete with each other—disbelief, guilt, and a painful glimmer of hope he hadn’t dared to acknowledge until now all at the forefront.

“Was it?” he asks. “Because of me?”

You scoff—an incredulous sound that doesn’t match the sad look on your face. “I don’t know, Sunghoon. Do you think my boyfriend used me to make his ex jealous because of you?”

He’s not sure what he expected you to say, but this is.. Complete disbelief eclipses him as his heart sinks in his chest, shock, and guilt bubbling in his stomach.

“I’m sorry,” he says after too long. “That I wasn’t there. That I haven’t been there.”

“You didn’t know,” you say, gaze softening as you look up at him.

“But I made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about it.”

You shake your head. “I made me feel like I couldn’t talk to you about it. All you did was change the friendship, I’m the one who ended it.”

“I still should’ve been there.”

“You’re here now, right?”

Sunghoon nods, earnestly. “Always.”

Only one thing comes to mind when you repeat the word ‘always’ before taking a sip from your glass, downing its contents. Sunghoon gets up and crosses the room with wobbly steps to open the fridge, where he pulls out as many bottles of soju as he can hold in his hands and puts them down on the table. He goes back to collect some glasses from the cabinet, puts some of the leftover fried rice from dinner into the microwave, and brings it all over when it’s done, with bowls and utensils. You watch him with a fond smile as he opens a bottle and he hopes you think the flush on his cheeks is from all the drinking you’ve been doing.

“Is it bad that I’ve missed doing this?” You’re grinning now.

Sunghoon shakes his head, raising his glass. “To YN’s fifteenth heartbreak.”

You grin, clinking the rim of your glass against his. “To YN’s fifteenth heartbreak,” you repeat.

Both of you down the glasses, and Sunghoon refills them, pouring the soju with an oddly steady hand. As you eat spoonfuls of rice and sip your drinks, silence settles over the room. The soft glow of the kitchen lights forms a warm ambience, a cosy familiarity that brings up simple memories—doing homework together at the table while gossiping about your classmates, the first New Year after you were both eighteen and had your first drink with his parents.

For at least an hour, the only sounds are the occasional clinks of forks against bowls, glasses hitting the table, the faint hum of the refrigerator and the steady tick of Yeji’s clock. Sunghoon’s eyes meet yours, and he can’t help but notice the slight change in your expression when they do.

You clear your throat, running a hand through your hair. “This is my sixteenth, actually.”

“What?”

You take a small sip of soju, staring down at the table. “My fifteenth heartbreak was losing you. Yeonjun is my sixteenth.”

In the two days since your soju ceremony, Sunghoon finds himself sinking into the role of your boyfriend like a hot bath. But there’s no use pretending it doesn’t hurt. Pretending it doesn’t hurt when you kiss his cheek before bed, or when you reach out to push the hair out of his face or snuggle into his side on the couch; because it does hurt—a lot. It hurts to think that in three days when you put your bags in the boot of his car, you’ll sit in silence all the way home. When he drops you off at your flat, you’ll close the door in his face and stop talking to him again. These realisations are harder to confront when he’s alone in his room, like now.

About an hour ago, you asked if you could borrow his car, saying there was something you needed to do on your own. It seemed important, so he handed over his keys with no question. Sighing, Sunghoon gets up from his bed and heads to the shower, where he jerks off to clear his mind. On his way back to his room, he notices the light leaking from the open kitchen door that illuminates the landing.

He hears the lock on the front door clicking, and stands at the top of the stairs, dripping water onto the carpet while listening attentively. His ears perk up when he hears a gasp—his mother.

“What’s this for?” she asks.

“I just..” You trail off. “I know it’s not much, but I wanted to thank you both for always looking after me.” You pause, and Sunghoon holds his breath, waiting. Your voice trembles as you continue. “It’s been hard since my parents went back home, and I guess it was still hard when they were here, but you both supported me. I don’t think I could’ve managed without you guys. I want to make you guys proud, you know? And I’m trying, really, so this is me saying thank you. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

He grips the railing by the landing, digging his nails into the wood until they start hurting—an ache in his fingertips that makes him wince.

An odd feeling settles in his stomach, a bittersweetness tinged in his fondness for you, and the gentle shock of realising how much his parents have done for you. Growing up, you became an honorary member of Sunghoon’s family. His parents showered you with gifts during holidays and birthdays, which you often celebrated with them rather than your own family.

The memory of your parents’ sudden decision to move across the country still lingers, and Sunghoon vividly recalls the tearful conversation he overheard at the top of the stairs. Your parents understood the enormity of their request but had earnestly asked if Sunghoon’s parents could continue looking after you.

His chest tightens when you start crying.

“You don’t have to thank us for anything, sweetie. Just you being here and taking care of our boy is more than enough thanks. You never forget our birthdays, and you always come and visit when you can. You’re doing a great job, and you should give yourself some credit,” his dad says, a little choked up. “We’ve always been proud of you.”

Sunghoon’s eyes sting with tears and his skin gets dry in the spots where the water from the shower is evaporating. He presses his fingers to his closed eyes, forcing a few tears to fall and walks the rest of the way to his room with his eyes shut. He can’t hear anything through his closed bedroom door, which he decides is a good thing as he coats himself in moisturiser and swipes deodorant under his arms with intention to spend the whole night alone. Once he’s dressed, he gets into bed and pretends not to be bothered by the way his wet hair dampens his pillow. Under the duvet, he tosses and turns before sighing and heading to Yeji’s room.

In her absence, the room’s subtle transformation is stark. The sage green-painted walls, once a backdrop to the A3 faces of Wave to Earth and Beabadoobee, now bear the faint imprints of those missing posters. Tiny, shadowy rectangles are the only remnants of the 6x4-sized pictures of her and her friends, of her and Sunghoon, that she took away with her to school.

Her hairdryer is still on her desk where she’d left it for him to use and he sits in her stiff wooden chair, plugging it in. The airflow starts immediately, hot and loud, humming throughout the space as he runs his fingers through his wet hair, feeling cosy under the heat. His shampoo is fresh and soapy scented under his nose, and his reflection watches him in Yeji’s mirror, eyes red and concerned while his hair blows around his head. Sunghoon closes his eyes and finishes his hair, sighing as he lets his worries slip under the whir of the fan.

Finished, he shuts off the dryer and opens his eyes, flinching at your reflection in the doorway behind him with a soft smile on your face. “Mum and Dad are going to open a bottle of wine if you want to join,” you say, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

Sunghoon can’t find it in himself to speak, only nodding in response. You smile wider but don’t move. He unplugs the hairdryer and leaves it on the desk where he found it before crossing the room. Without giving himself a chance to think about it, he pulls you into a hug and kisses the top of your head, smiling into your hair when you wrap your arms around his waist, holding him closer.

You’re sitting on the edge of the bathtub, mumbling sleepily that you’re never going to drink again, and Sunghoon leans over the sink brushing his teeth, he’s glad you have the decency to cover your mouth as you speak.

“Brush your teeth and go back to sleep then,” he mumbles around his toothbrush.

You don’t respond.

Sunghoon sighs through his nose, spitting foamy toothpaste into the sink, leaving bubbly, blue splatters on the porcelain. “And quit staring at me, I can feel your beady little eyes on the back of my neck and it’s freaking me out.”

“But you’re so pretty,” you coo.

There’s a flutter in his stomach and he rinses off the sink and his mouth, buying himself some time. With a hand on the Listerine, he lifts his gaze to meet yours in the mirror and stops short. You’re still staring at him, features soft and glowing under the afternoon light. You look like an angel; a gentle smile spreading over your lips, and a sleepy glint sparkling in your eyes, wide and gorgeous as you watch him. Sunghoon gulps, mumbling his thanks and looking back at himself. He hopes you can’t see the flush on his cheeks.

“Go back to sleep,” he says.

“Will you come and lie down with me if I do?” Your voice is a sleepy drawl, coming out in a slow, high-pitched slur, and your eyes are closing on themselves.

Lying down doesn’t sound like a terrible idea, especially not if it’s with you, so he nods. “If you brush your teeth, then yeah, baby, I’ll lie down with you.”

You chuckle softly at Sunghoon’s agreement, the sound carrying a mix of exhaustion and genuine amusement, showing no repulsion to him calling you the B-word. He didn’t mean to, it’s been a confusing few days. You nod, saluting to him and getting up to join him by the sink, using your hip to bump him out of the way, but he feels like he’s glued to the spot.

“Move, baby,” you mumble sleepily, reaching for your toothbrush. “We can cuddle in my bed,” you suggest, to which Sunghoon only nods, taking your words as a cue to unstick his feet from the floor and go to your room, playing the word ‘baby’ on a loop in his head.

He stands in the doorway staring at your bed, the duvet is all crumpled in the middle, and the pillows are in an L shape at the top corner. He sighs, he can’t go on like this, can’t stand around hoping even a tiny part of you called him ‘baby’ and it meant something for you as it did for him. It’s not fair for him to project his feelings on you like this, but he can’t help it. You’re already pretending for his parents, so would it be so bad to pretend for his sake as well? Even if only until the day after tomorrow when you leave?

The sound of the bathroom door shutting behind you snaps him out of his thoughts, your bright smile making his heart race when you tug him by the sleeve to your bed where the mattress dips underneath you as you curl into his form, resting your head on his chest and falling asleep. You’ve shared the bed before, countless times, but he knows you’ve only asked him because you’re tired. Because your brain is foggy with drowsiness that clouds your judgement, not because you want him there, not because you miss him when he’s two doors down the hall, tossing and turning at night thinking about you. He wonders absently if you can feel his aching heart beating through his chest, a painful, yet all too familiar rhythm that pulls his own eyes shut, plunging him into a deep sleep too.

It’s dark in the room when he wakes up, the sun already down behind the curtains and the soft yellow of the bedside lamp casting a glow around the space. You’re staring up at him, smiling and you don’t look away when he catches you. “What is it?” he asks, voice thick with sleep.

“Nothing,” you mumble. “I just missed you.” Sunghoon has no time to respond or even register what you said before you clear your throat, speaking again. “Come on, dad’s cooking tonight, he’ll need help.”

Helping Sunghoon’s dad with dinner always looks an awful lot like Sunghoon eating snacks on the kitchen counter and staring at you as you help his dad cook. Tonight is no exception, he’s sitting on the island, and his snack of choice is a family pack of Chilli Heatwave Doritos his mum bought for Yeji. He’ll have to remember to replace them before leaving seeing as he’s reaching the halfway point.

You go back and forth with his dad about measurements, with you rummaging through the drawers for measuring cups while his dad says it’s best to trust your gut. Reluctantly, you nod, chewing the inside of your cheek as you watch him eyeball the seasoning.

The gas stove turns the kitchen into an oven, and you complain about it while opening a window, pulling your hoodie over your head and leaving it in Sunghoon’s lap. Time stops when you grin at him, the light from the stove hood illuminating the necklace you’re wearing, his initial resting on your chest and glowing under the light. He chokes around a crisp when he sees it, catching your attention with his coughing.

“You’ll spoil your dinner, snacking like that, baby,” you scold, using a hand to push his knee. “We’re almost done, I swear.”

All he can do is nod, cheeks burning as he folds the crisp packet over before putting it back in the bread bin where he found it.

“Wow,” his dad says, resting his hands on his hips and shaking his head in amusement. “Being in love looks good on him, he’d never have listened if I said that.”

It’s already your last day when Sunghoon picks up Yeji from school. She grumbles for the entire half-hour drive and all the way to the front door about why the two of you couldn’t have started the trip today instead of ending it, but all of her irritation dissolves when she sees you in the hallway, leaving the front door wide open to fling her arms around you. You and Yeji exchange compliments for a while — You look so pretty. No, you look so pretty. I love your hair. I love your hair. — as Sunghoon locks the door and watches with a smile.

“God.” Yeji sighs, holding you by the waist and craning her neck up to look at you, as you push some of her hair from her face, pinning back her wispy bangs with the palm of your hand. Yeji giggles. “I’m so happy you two are together, even though I have no idea what a girl like you sees in my loser brother.”

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, leaning back against the wall. Despite his mild irritation at Yeji’s words, he finds the sight of you with her so adorable his stomach flutters. Over the top of Yeji’s head, you look at him with a fond smile. “He’s not so bad.”

It doesn’t sound like a compliment, but Sunghoon takes it to heart.

Like always, Yeji manages to capture your undivided attention and the two of you giggle and whisper with each other all afternoon while Sunghoon watches, too enamoured by the sight to care about being left out. An hour or so passes like this, until his parents get home from work, excited to see Yeji after a few weeks, and you leave her side, coming to cuddle with Sunghoon instead.

It’s nice being home with everyone, laughing and sharing a meal before his family walks the two of you to his car with at least a month’s worth of cooked food for you to share at university. Yeji makes you pinky promise that she can visit you and waves with a pout on her face until the car is out of view.

Contrary to what he’d been expecting, the drive back is nice. Your playlist is on, and you’re telling him about all the new songs you added, catching him up on things with Chaewon and Yunjin, and all the things you got up to in the time you spent apart. You tell him about a new café that opened up near your place and how you’ll have to go together when he has the time, and Sunghoon bites his tongue before telling you that he always has time for you. The first half of the trip goes on like this but you start dozing off around the halfway mark, your sentences becoming few and far between, eventually turning into half-mumbled thoughts that end prematurely.

You’re still asleep when he reaches your flat, head propped up against the window with your soft lips parted, looking too pretty and cosy to wake up. Instead, he drives in circles around your block, deciding to wait for you to wake up on your own. It only takes a half-hour but you blink your eyes open, stretching your neck before looking around and out the car window, recognising the street. You don’t say anything, only smiling when you look at him, a small curve of your lips that makes his heart race.

He gets out of the car with you, opening the boot to get your bag before pulling you into his chest for a hug, liking the way your arms settle around his waist. “Thank you,” he mumbles into your hair.

Sunghoon doesn’t follow you when you take your bag from him, only watching from the back of his car. You don’t notice until you reach the main door, looking over your shoulder and frowning at him. “Aren’t you going to walk me up?”

The two of you walk in silence up four flights of stairs as the lift in your building is out of order. Your bag feels much heavier in his hand now than it did outside. At your door, he watches you dig around for your keys, sighing with relief when you find them.

“Do you want to come in?” you ask from your open doorway.

“I—uh—I have training in the morning and I’m already pretty tired, so..” He trails off.

Unfazed, you nod. “Right, of course. I had fun this week.”

“Yeah, me too.”

You smile at him, sweet and sincere. “Text me when you get home, yeah?”

Sunghoon nods, saying goodbye. Out of habit, he doesn’t leave your doorstep until he hears the lock click shut, and walks back to his car with his head down.

True to his word, he sends you a text to let you know he got back to his place safely and you read it immediately but don’t reply. It’s empty in the apartment, Jake is out with his football team and the space is larger than usual in his absence. Far too tired to even consider going out and joining him, Sunghoon goes through his night routine, putting his phone on the charger and stepping into the shower where he spends entirely too long wishing he could live in this week forever as he scrubs his body. With brushed teeth and damp hair, he goes back into his room where his phone lights up with a notification; a text, from you.

YN🫀: i’m glad you got home okay, i just got into bed :) i don’t want to make you uncomfortable or overstep or anything and you can say no (obviously).. i’ve been missing you so much and didn’t know how to reach out or if you wanted me to but i had soooo much fun this week and spending time with you again made me happy, so i’d like it if we could keep hanging out, like before yk? ik it’s a long shot ahahaha but just say you’ll think about it?

hoonie: You’re not overstepping at all, I’ve missed you too, so bad. I had soooo much fun this week as well and I’d like it a lot if we kept hanging out, thank you for agreeing and coming along 😚 If you’re free after Lit tmrw you could come over? Or we could go out and do something, whatever you prefer

hoonie: I missed you so much..

hoonie: 🤍

The texts greet you as the first rays of Monday morning light filter into your room, instantly lifting your mood. Your bright smile doesn’t escape Chaewon’s notice as you find her in the kitchen, bathed in the soft light seeping through the sheer curtains. The kettle is boiling with a loud rumble that fills the whole room and leaves her yelling as she speaks to you.

“Good trip?” she asks, coming over and hugging you. “Never leave me for that long again,” she mumbles into your shirt.

“It was a week, Wonie,” you say, rolling your eyes even though you missed her too.

She leans away, looking at you with knitted brows. “It was nine days.”

“The longest of my life.”

Chaewon pulls air through her teeth, tilting her head and releasing you. “That bad, huh?” she asks, walking back to her seat at your tiny square table and shooting you a look that tells you to join her.

During your trip, you gave her nightly updates over text, so you know she knows how much you enjoyed yourself, but you elaborate anyway, sitting across from her.

“No, not at all,” you say, shaking your head and trying to fight a smile. “I had fun.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you have to bite your bottom lip to stop the grin curving them; it doesn’t work.

Chaewon raises a suggestive brow, crossing her arms over her chest. “How much fun?”

“You’re disgusting.”

“I didn’t even say anything!” she defends, holding her hands up. “I made an implication. It was only a matter of time, you two have that whole.. lifelong best friends to lifelong lovers thing going on, and it’s hot.”

“Shut up.”

“You’re telling me, you spent nine days playing lovers with Sunghoon and you still don’t want him? You’re a lost cause, people would kill for that chance,” she says, tilting her head. “I think I would kill for that chance.”

“Don’t touch him.”

“Oh?”

“Jesus, Chaewon, it’s not like that. Hoon’s too sensitive for your roster.”

“I never said it was like anything, you’re the one who’s dangling me over the ledge for saying I want to fuck your hot best friend.”

“Sunghoon isn’t hot; he’s..” You find yourself at a loss for words, unsure how to continue your lie. Of course, Sunghoon is hot, you’ve known since you were seventeen and spent the summer at your grandparents’ house, only to come back to find your previously scrawny best friend having ditched his LEGOs for dumbbells. You sigh. “Just leave him alone.”

Chaewon grins, eyes sparkling as she leaves the table. “Okay,” she says in a singsong voice, leaving you and the irritation in your stomach alone in the kitchen.

You sigh, pressing your eyes shut and trying to will away your discomfort. It’s not like Chaewon would actually try anything with Sunghoon. Right? Even if she did, it wouldn’t bother you, nor would it be any of your business. They’re grownups and reserve the right to explore their options. Still, there’s a nagging feeling you can’t shake, an uninvited guest in the back of your mind.

When you check your phone, you realise you have half an hour before you need to head to campus, so you leave to get ready and text Sunghoon back on the way to your room.

you: sounds good, see u later 🤍

After showering, you stand in front of your wardrobe, towel hanging from your body as you pick an outfit. For some reason, you feel under pressure, picking a pair of jeans that do the most for your ass and a low-cut top that Sunghoon once — drunkenly — said he loved on you.

You have the residual sting of mouthwash on your tongue, and one foot out the door when your phone vibrates in your hand.

hoonie: Do you want to head to class together?

you: sure! i’m omw out, where should i get you?

hoonie: .. I’m outside your building :D

Breathing a laugh through your nose, you don’t fight the giddy smile on your face as you make your way downstairs to meet Sunghoon. Through the glass in the main door, he’s standing at the edge of the pavement and kicking a stone between his feet. The top of his puffer jacket covers the bottom half of his face, and the draught nips your skin when the door opens. Two girls you vaguely recognise stumble in with smudged makeup and heels in their hands, smiling at you while holding the door to let you out.

“Hey!” you call out, jogging over to him.

Sunghoon turns around, his head poking out of his jacket to grin at you, holding a travel cup and an abundance of tinfoil in your direction.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d have eaten anything yet, you don’t normally in the morning,” he says, a sheepish smile spreading over his lips when you take it. “Matcha. Ham and cheese toastie.”

“Did you make these?” you ask, inspecting the familiar cup and appreciating the warmth it provides.

He hums, nodding his head.

You ignore the heat spreading over your cheeks and thank him with a hug, grinning when he offers to hold your drink while you eat on the walk. The toastie is still hot, the cheese coming close to burning your tongue as you chew, but you appreciate it wholeheartedly, humming contently with each bite. When you’re done, you shove the foil into your pocket, taking your drink from him and smiling around the sweet taste of a matcha latte as he tells you about his schedule for the day.

“I’m meeting with Coach after class to talk about my grades, but I’m all yours after that.”

“Talk about your grades? What’s wrong with your grades?”

Sunghoon groans, head falling back and highlighting the bump of his Adam’s apple. “My grades are.. I failed my coursework this month, so I have resubmissions during finals, and I think he’ll bench me if I fail again.”

He sounds like he’s being serious, and if the look on his face is anything to go by, he is. The news creases your brows because for as long as you remember, Sunghoon’s grades were your parents’ favourite point of comparison.

“Really?” you ask. He nods. “What’s up? Is something the matter?”

A humourless laugh slips out of him before he pulls air through his teeth. “Yeah, my best friend didn’t talk to me for three months.”

“Oh..” Guilt stirs your stomach as you look up at him. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not blaming you, it’s not like I was trying to talk and you ignored me.” He nudges your arm with his elbow, giving you a warm smile. “But if you feel as guilty about it as you look, you can tutor me for Lit.”

“Deal.”

Sunghoon grins, wrapping his arm over your shoulders and holding you close; the action itself isn’t unusual, but the increased heart rate it brings about is. “You’re too good to me,” he says, holding onto you for the rest of the walk to class.

At his request, you sit with Sunghoon in the back row, watching as the lecture hall gradually fills up in front of you. He seems well-prepared, with his laptop and a small notepad and pen neatly arranged on the desk in front of him.

Throughout the class, your eyes inadvertently track his every move. He diligently types up colour-coded notes, occasionally pausing to write things in his notepad before continuing to type or stopping entirely to listen. There’s something melodic about his actions and the way his fingers run over the keyboard.

During a five-minute break, you glance at his screen. What you find is more than just lecture content; it’s a document adorned with Sunghoon’s own musings about Hemingway’s style and carefully analysed quotations that go beyond the class discussion.

“How are your notes so good?”

“I picked up the book over the summer when you mentioned it,” Sunghoon replies with a shrug, a shy smile playing on his lips as he leans back in his seat. “I liked it.”

A slow nod is your response, though your thoughts swirl like autumn leaves in a breeze. The last time Sunghoon read for leisure, you were in primary school, buddy reading Diary of a Wimpy Kid. But this—this is different. You can’t help but stare at him, awestruck as you take him in. His eyes are wide, shining amber in the sunlight as he pushes some of his hair from his face, frowning when it falls back where it was.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he mumbles.

Sunghoon takes a new line in his document and points at the screen where you watch the cursor move through the words he’s typing: I would’ve read and annotated the Bible if you wanted me to..

There’s no time to digest what he wrote or the funny feeling in your chest as you reread it before he deletes the whole sentence, pressing his lips together and looking out the window. Speechless, you stare at his side profile, willing your heart rate to slip back to normal. Steep-sloping nose, plump lips flattened into a line, two points of the triangular mole constellation on his face. Analysis worsens your condition, breath hitching in your throat before stopping entirely. Warmth and trepidation blend within you, fuzzy enough at the edges to seem like one thing—a single force that makes your palm itch with desire, desperation, to reach out and run a finger over his features, feel the bump of the mole on his nose — the most prominent — against your skin.

You remain this way — silent, watching — even when your lecturer resumes the lesson, and Sunghoon starts typing, writing, and listening again. Polite enough to pretend he doesn’t notice your gaze searing into his face.

After class, and his meeting with Coach, you let Sunghoon lead the conversation and the way to your flat, where you find Chaewon and Yunjin sitting on the couch, whispering to themselves while the two of you study at the coffee table. It’s uncomfortable, an awkward height, too high for the way you’re sitting but you feel calm under the supervision of Chaewon and Yunjin—you won’t do anything to merit teasing in front of them, no matter how badly you want to feel Sunghoon’s face in your hands or stroke his cheekbones with your thumbs.

To the best of your ability, you answer the questions he has for you—he’d written a ton in his tiny notepad during class, his own concerns clear with each neatly-penned iteration of: How to see actions/dialogue for what they are and not what I want them to be? written in the margins and you try not to feel heartbroken for him.

Three hours have passed by when you walk him to the door, the two of you wrapped up in a bubble so secure you’re surprised to find Chaewon and Yunjin still sitting on the couch. They don’t say anything about Sunghoon in his absence, or the fact he’d given you his sweater when he noticed you were cold. You’re not sure why their silence disappoints you.

Instead, Yunjin asks you about trivial things like dinner while Chaewon sits in silence.

“What flavour for ice cream?” Yunjin asks, rolling her eyes when you tug on the blanket but not complaining. “And don’t say something ridiculous like mint chocolate, YN.”

“That happened once! And it was three years ago.. How was I supposed to know you hate fun?”

Chaewon leans into you, letting you curl your limbs around her from behind as you rest your chin on her shoulder, liking the way her clean scent tickles your nose.

“Mint-cho isn’t that bad,” she starts. “It’s a little jarring, sure, but it’s kind of sweet. Like watching people come to terms with their feelings for each other.”

You nod your head, humming in understanding and furrowing your brows when Yunjin scoffs, staring straight at you. Her tone is equal parts cutting and loving, so you know she’s not trying to insult you, but don’t know what she means when she says, “It must be so nice to be as oblivious as you.”

Yunjin never elaborates, and you never ask, actually feeling the statement’s journey in through one of your ears and out the other when dinner arrives. The three of you share pizza, ice cream, and secrets — the three pillars of 20-something-teenage-girlhood — at the kitchen table, with Chaewon sitting in your lap and picking pepperoni from your slices.

It’s only hours after Yunijn’s gone home, that her words circle back to you, the statement and all of its weight perching on your chest with all the debilitation and persistence of a sleep paralysis demon.

“I think I’m getting sick,” you say as soon as she opens her door. “It’s been coming on for a while now, at least a week, maybe more.”

Unimpressed and exhausted, Yunjin looks down at you through half-closed eyes. “Do you..” She pinches the bridge of her nose, sighing. “Do you have any idea what time it is right now?”

“Yes. It’s three a.m.”

“Exactly. See a doctor if you’re sick, I’m going back to sleep.”

“This is an emergen—” Yunjin cuts you off by pinching your lips together. “It’s three in the morning,” she reminds you. “You can’t yell like that in my hallway, come in.”

You nod, crossing the threshold and taking off your shoes next to hers. “Sorry,” you whisper when the door is closed.

Using her hand, Yunjin lifts your chin, squinting as her eyes adjust to the light when she flips the switch to inspect your face. “You don’t look or sound sick,” she mutters, flicking the light back off and going to her room. “What are your symptoms? And why did you come here?”

You don’t have an answer for her last question so you ignore it, following her and tripping over a pair of her shoes in the process. “My cheeks start burning like crazy and my heart races, sometimes it gets hard to breathe.”

“You seem fine to me.”

A shoulder-slumping sigh slips from your lips. “That’s the thing. I’ll be fine and then Sunghoon shows up with his pretty smile and perfect hair and I feel like I’ve run a marathon.” You know how it sounds, choosing your wording meticulously to let Yunjin be the one to say the words out loud instead of you—it’ll be easier to confront that way.

From the doorway, you watch as she arches a brow, her interest piqued. “Oh?”

“I know.” You nod, head bobbing rapidly in furious agreement. “It’s only a matter of time before I cough up a lung and die in his bedroom.”

At your words, Yunjin doesn't reply, only lifting her duvet and getting cosy underneath. You feel like you’re glued to the spot, waiting for her to say something, anything, but nothing comes. All she does is pat the empty spot in her bed.

“What are you smirking for?” you ask, entering the room properly and closing the door.

Her response only comes after you’ve taken your jacket and hoodie off, sitting next to her under the covers. “It’s nothing,” she says, laughing.

“Tell me.”

Yunjin sighs, resting a hand gently on your shoulder. You think it’s meant to be comforting but it’s the opposite. “You’ll be fine, I promise. Lovesickness isn’t deadly.”

Feeling the weight of her reassurance, you settle down properly and sigh when your head hits the pillow. Lovesickness. Hmm.

Closing your eyes, you try to sleep but can’t help tossing and turning as Yunjin snores behind you. You pat blindly around the end table for your phone, grabbing it and wincing at the brightness of your screen. Chewing on your lip, you open Google, looking up ‘lovesickness’ and frowning immediately at the results. Endless negativity fills the screen, terrifying words like ‘unrequited love’ forming a pit in your stomach. There’s nothing negative about what you feel for Sunghoon, nothing unrequited—you think.

It was obvious during the trip, painfully so. In the way he’d tuck your hair behind your ear when his parents weren’t there to see, or how he slipped up and called you ‘baby’ in the bathroom, blushing when you said it back. You can’t fake something like that.. Can you?

Yeonjun did.

Shaking your head, you open Instagram to distract yourself. Jake’s story comes up first; he’s at a party where Jay is losing a game of beer pong, and at the other end of the table is Sunghoon grinning with a bright red lipstick kiss on his cheek. You lock your phone, using your hands to press on your belly to stop the stirring.

Oh, you think. Lovesickness.

When you wake up, the first thing you do is check Jake’s story again. The video is still there and that terrible stir in your stomach churns on, burrowing deeply into a pit of canyon-like proportion—so vast there’s a safety railing lining its edges.

You eat breakfast in silence with Yunjin, zoning out mid-chew to figure out the origin of these feelings and how to handle them. Suddenly, the moment hits you clear as day, vivid like you’re watching it on a screen—it was your third night at his parents’ house, after your walk.

You felt bad about how you acted, and what you said, so went straight up to your room. With nothing but the bedside lamp turned on, it was dimly lit, shadows cast on the walls as you sulked, replaying everything in your head. Guilt wrapped its long arms around your body, making you feel sick as you thought about it all. About the hurt etched over his face with every word you said, and the frown that stuck around for the rest of the walk as his hand clung limply to yours.

There was a knock at the door, so gentle you almost missed it, and Sunghoon was standing there when you pulled it open, chewing on his lip with a mug in his hand. Steam skated over the opening, a rich chocolatey smell hitting your nose but the real kicker was the mug itself. In its place on Jake and Sunghoon’s mug tree, it was unassuming, a regular white mug, but upon meeting hot water, the face of young Sunghoon appeared, grinning with his tiny glasses on. It was a gift from one of his old coaches and though he never used it, it was your absolute favourite cup in the world.

You felt soft around the edges when you looked up at him, his eyes wide and unsure as you met his gaze—he brought that mug three hours across the country so you could use it again. The thought shifted your heart into a comfortable position, settling in your chest with overwhelming warmth and an increased rate.

“Hi,” you said, clearing your throat.

“Hi,” he repeated, holding the mug out for you to take. “It’s still hot so be careful.”

Nodding, you covered your hands with your sleeves, taking the cup from him and asking if he wanted to come in. Sunghoon nodded, shutting the door behind him and standing by the bed, watching you set the hot chocolate on the bedside table as you sat down. The two of you stayed like that for a while, with him only moving when you patted the spot next to you on the duvet. Your train of thought escaped you as soon as he sat down, the warmth of his familiar fresh, citrusy scent taking over and becoming the only thing you could register. The smell of summers with him, long days at the beach and short nights spent on the couch at random parties, cuddled into his side with his arm over your shoulders. The smell you’d come to associate with comfort and home—with Sunghoon.

“It’s not fair for me to treat you like shit just because I’m annoyed, I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that earlier. I’m sorry.”

A crease ran over Sunghoon’s thick brows as they tugged together, he shook his head. “You don’t have to apologise. I roped you into this whole thing and didn’t even try to think about how you would feel. I’m sorry.” His eyes carried a mix of regret and sincerity, mirroring the weight of his words.

“Anyway, I only came to bring you that,” he said, pointing at the cup. “And to check up on you, I’ll get out of your hair for tonight.” Sunghoon wiped his palms on his pants before standing up, reaching behind him to pick up the cloth he brought. For a moment, he stood there, staring down at it in his hand while you thought about telling him to stay, telling him that you wanted him in your hair—whatever that meant. But he spoke before you had the chance. “You left this, at mine, after.. well, you know. I’m sure you left it intentionally, I mean it was folded up perfectly on the end of my bed, so I know you did, but it didn’t feel right keeping it, you always wore it more than me.”

Sunghoon extended his hand, holding it out to you and you knew exactly what it was as soon as the fabric touched your skin after so long. It was the shirt Jay bought him for Christmas in first year—they were roommates still trying to get a feel for each other. For a few weeks, Sunghoon had been pestering you about what he should get for Jay, saying it didn’t feel right not to get him anything, and you suggested a targeted t-shirt, one you’d been laughing at all day after seeing an ad for it on your timeline. Sunghoon was sceptical, but bought the red shirt anyway, hoping Jay would find BEING DAD IS AN HONOUR, BEING PAPA IS PRICELESS funny. He did. And Jay bought Sunghoon a targeted shirt too, your favourite. It was black and two sizes too big, with I NEVER DREAMED I’D BE A SEXY FIGURE SKATER BUT HERE I AM KILLING IT written over the chest.

“Goodnight, YN,” Sunghoon said, crossing the room to leave but hesitating before closing the door. He poked his head through the opening and sighed. “I really am sorry.”

That night, you fell asleep in the shirt, the thinning, yet cosy, fabric wrapped around you like a hug as your heart started to beat a new rhythm, one that eerily echoed the five-foot-eleven figure skater who you let break it.

This morning, Yunjin claps her hands in your face, seeming irritated when you look over at her. “You have class in an hour, what are you doing?” Before you have the chance to speak, realisation covers her face. “Oh, the feelings.”

You nod solemnly, too caught up in the butterflies raiding your stomach to come up with something to say.

At lightspeed, you scarf down the rest of your food, apologising for showing up so late as you head out the door. When you get home, you take the fastest shower of your life and feel grateful Chaewon isn’t around to tease you about the smile you can’t wipe from your face thinking about Sunghoon—you’ll text her later.

You run to campus, feeling the brisk autumn wind beating against your face while the rest of your body overheats under your jacket, hoodie and long sleeve. Despite the discomfort and ache in your lungs, you don’t stop until you reach the door of your lecture hall, huffing and puffing into the faces of classmates who don’t take any notice. Of course, in a stroke of pure luck, your lecturer is late, and you realise bitterly, that all of your huffing and puffing was in vain—you would have gotten to class with time to spare even if you walked.

It’s not a total waste though; you use the time to update Chaewon.

you: i have news wonie.. i like sunghoon

wonie: …………….. fork in the kitchen yn what’s the news?

wonie: OHHHH news to YOU.. can i call?

She calls you immediately. You answer without thinking because your lecturer still hasn’t arrived, and there’s no one sitting close enough to hear or notice you taking a call.

“Are you going to tell him?!” Chaewon’s voice is so loud you wince, pulling the phone away from your ear.

“I don’t know.” You shrug even though she can’t see you, still holding the device at a distance just in case. “I don’t have any confirmation that he still.. likes me. It’s been a while, and I was pretty mean that day.

Chaewon groans and you can picture her throwing herself onto her bed, exasperated. The rustling that comes through the receiver only frames the image, hanging it up. “Did you have to tell him to get a grip?”

“You know..” You trail off, chewing on your bottom lip. “In hindsight, probably not.”

A beat passes, she’s thinking. “Don’t worry,” she says. “I’ll help you.”

“I.. have never been so worried in my life.” You sigh, picking at your freshly painted nails. “But I know you’ll do something no matter what I say, so do what you want, Wonie, but please be subtle about it.”

Chaewon squeals down the phone. “I love youuuuu!” And it’s the last thing she says before kissing the mic a few times and hanging up.

Slumping in your seat, you don’t have any time to stress about Chaewon’s plans because your lecturer walks in, with a travel cup in her hand and a paperback tucked under her arm.

She apologises for being late, running a hand through her hair as she announces that you’ll be watching a film, an adaptation of a book you read at the start of term—Ian McEwan’s Atonement. You spend the first hour of the movie falling in and out of sleep until a text comes through from Sunghoon, and sheer excitement keeps you up.

hoonie: Wanna study together after class?

you: of course!!!!!!

hoonie: 🤍

The rest of the movie goes by in a drag, and you come away from it with a mild irritation towards Saoirse Ronan.

you: class just finished, heading to lib rn

hoonie: Shit, still in the locker room, sorry !!! Omw, can you get a table?

you: i’ll try..

It takes a while but you find an empty booth on the second floor, and set your bag on the plush green seat to take pictures of your surroundings to send to Sunghoon. You sit on the side facing the stairs so he can see you when he arrives. The thought of seeing him makes your heart race and you try out a few natural-seeming poses for when he’s here, cycling between resting your palm under your chin and sitting with your arms crossed a few times until the top of his head comes into view.

Seeing him knocks the wind out of you as he approaches the staircase, taking them two at a time with his damp hair clinging to his forehead and neck. It doesn’t help that he’s wearing a tight black vest, and his sweats are hanging low on his hips. A breath you didn’t realise you were holding slips out when he lifts his head, spotting you immediately as a grin spreads over his lips and he raises his arm to wave, the veins in his forearm peeking out to say hi too. You can’t tell if it’s his lack of winter wardrobe or your newfound appreciation for him that’s making his biceps look so huge but it’s hard to look away, even when he reaches the table.

“Are you hot?” you blurt out.

Sunghoon laughs, raising a brow and something about the way he’s looking down at you makes your cheeks burn. “Depends who’s asking.” He takes his backpack off, leaving it on the table as he sits down, dumping his jacket and hoodie in a pile beside him.

“I’m asking,” you mumble.

“Then, yeah, I’d hope so.”

Is he flirting? It sounds like he’s flirting. Flirt back! “Nice arms.”

He looks down at his biceps for a beat before looking at you warily. “Are you flirting with me?” He can’t fight the smile twitching at the corners of his lips but he tries his best, pressing them into a straight line.

“A little. They are nice though,” you admit.

Sunghoon grins. “Thanks, I’ve had them for a while now.”

You can’t come up with anything to say, too distracted by the way his smile reaches his eyes, lighting up his whole face and forcing a flustered heat to spread over your cheeks and neck. It’s only when you look away from him that you remember what you’re here for. It’s a study date, not a study date—there’s a difference.

You hand Sunghoon the material you’d printed for him over the weekend, excerpts from texts you’d studied in class, so he can practise close reading and proper citation. As he makes his way through them, you can’t help stealing glances, smiling at the way his tongue sticks out a little while he focuses, or how he twirls his pen in his fingers while he’s thinking. You aren’t making the best use of your time together, copying out the slides from class yesterday, but you can’t help noticing the way he watches you when he thinks you can’t see. The small smile on his face while he does so only flusters you, an odd weakness settling in your knees as your cheeks heat up.

After a while, Sunghoon sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Could you stop watching me?”

“If you noticed me watching, that means you’re watching me.”

He shrugs, chewing on his lip. “Well, yeah. I’m always watching you,” he says like it’s a given. “But you don’t normally watch back, it’s distracting.”

“You’re distracting.”

A playful smile curves his lips as he arches a brow, smugness painting his face. “Am I?”

Too scared to verbalise your response, you nod slowly, hoping you don’t look as wound up as you feel.

Sunghoon’s eyes flick over your face, flashing with something you don’t recognise. At least not from him. He sits back in his seat, assessing you and eventually shaking his head.

“You know,” he says, eyes glowing with something you do recognise: cockiness. “If my sexy arms are getting to you that much, I can always put my hoodie back on. Wouldn’t want my little tutor getting distracted, would I?”

Oh.

Your stomach turns with want, mind reeling from his tone and the way his gaze lands on your lips. Sighing, you roll your eyes and try to seem unaffected. “Sunghoon, I never said your arms were sexy.”

His phone starts to go off, buzzing against the table and he turns it over immediately, screen down on the surface as he shifts his focus back to his work. He chews on his lip while he does, eyes flicking back and forth between his phone and the words on the page. Curious, you lean over the table, elbows propped up as you rest your chin in your hands. He doesn’t spare you or his phone, which vibrates another four times, a glance.

“Are you going to get that?”

Sunghoon shakes his head. “It’s nothing.”

You hum, letting just enough curiosity seep into the sound that he’ll elaborate without being asked to. It doesn’t take long for him to deliver.

“It’s just Chaewon,” he says, running his hand through his hair and lifting his head. Sunghoon smiles. “We’ve been texting a lot these days.”

“Cool.” You nod a few times, aiming for nonchalance but hitting bobblehead as you wait for him to continue. He doesn’t, only humming in response, nodding too.

After a beat, he picks up his phone, angling it just high enough that you can’t see the screen. He reads the messages, an exhaled laugh coming from his nose as the tips of his ears redden—Fuck. This is worse than you thought.

Chaewon’s commitment to girl code runs deep—she’s been rebuffing Jake since first year when she overheard a girl she’d never seen before telling her friends she thought he was cute. So you know without having to read the texts that nothing she’s saying is even remotely flirty, you can smell the auto-caps and use of the word ‘buddy’ from across the table.

What you hadn’t counted on, however, was the potential for Sunghoon’s feelings to shift. If they really have been texting more, can you rule out the possibility that he might like.. her? Chaewon is a catch, beyond a catch, and you’d already turned Sunghoon down. Brutally. Of course, he’d move on, he has moved on.

The rest of the study session is spent manifesting, writing Park Sunghoon over and over in the back of your notebook. You fill three pages while brainstorming ways to snatch a lock of his hair until he suggests that the two of you call it a day. He walks you home, telling you about how Jake’s been bribing him with food to get a ride to the LEGO store across town for the new Marvel set.

“With or without the meals, I would’ve taken him, but his ramen is my favourite, so..” Sunghoon says, climbing the last step of your building and holding the door open for you. “He even brought a slice of tiramisu to the rink for me after practice.”

“You’re terrible,” you say, frowning up at him as you search for your keys. “Do you want to come in?”

Sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head. “I have a meeting with one of my lecturers soon, I’d have to leave in—” He pauses, rolling up the sleeve of his jacket to check the time. “—eight minutes.”

“I’m cool with that if you are,” you mumble, suddenly shy.

A bright smile spreads over his lips and he nods, following you in.

Chilled by the harsh wind, the only thing on your mind is a hot drink as you lead Sunghoon to the kitchen. He shakes his head when you offer him one, sitting on the countertop and exhaling into his palms before rubbing them together. You can’t help but frown at the sight, feeling guilty that you can’t change the weather to suit him. At your thought process, your brows raise. Wow, you think. Is this who you are?

You busy yourself with the selection of hot drinks you and Chaewon have accumulated, eyeing each container from top to bottom. A purple tub of Cadbury’s hot chocolate that you’re sure is on the brink of expiration, coffee—sachets of the instant stuff you’ve grown to like since leaving home, Earl grey from one of many brands, or the fancy silk tea bags Chaewon’s mum brought home from a trip—rooibos or plum-apple-cinnamon.

Craving something sweet, you settle for hot chocolate, pulling the heavy container from the cupboard next to Sunghoon’s head and setting it beside your cup. He’s on his phone, scrolling too fast to take in anything he’s seeing and he shakes his head when you ask if he wants something to drink.

On the dish rack, Chaewon’s mug catches your eye, so you pick it up to dry it off and put it down next to yours. “I’m going to check if Wonie wants any,” you say, wiping imaginary crumbs from the counter onto the floor.

Sunghoon only clears his throat, shaking his head. “She’s not home, one of her acrylics popped off so she’s at the shop waiting for a cancellation.”

The information itself isn’t jarring but hearing it from Sunghoon is. You put on what you hope is a neutral smile and nod, taking milk from the fridge and assembling your drink on autopilot while thinking of ways to redirect the conversation.

“If you knew you’d have to go back to campus so soon, why’d you walk me home?” you ask, watching your cup spin in the microwave. “I could’ve walked on my own.”

Sunghoon is already looking at you when you turn your head, his cheeks puffed out with air as he blinks slowly. Because I love you, is what you hope he’ll say. You think you need him to say it.

“Because you don’t have to do anything on your own when you have me,” he says instead, and it’s infinitely better.

The words seep through your every fibre, his intonation and lucid affection making a home for themselves in your heart, spreading warmth from head to toe. Your smile becomes a radiant grin, only brightening when he shakes his head, smiling down at his feet.

Sunghoon hugs you in the kitchen when it’s time for him to leave, his arms holding you tight to his chest as he rocks you back and forth. You inhale his scent, all warm citrus under freshly washed cotton and something exclusive to him.

Wiping the smile from your face feels impossible. You don’t let go when he does, and a sweet laugh — a giggle, you think — tumbles out of him as he mumbles that he really has to go. Still, you cling onto him, taking clumsy steps backwards, with your arms locked around his waist, to your front door, smiling as you watch him put his shoes on.

“You don’t have to walk me downstairs, honestly,” he says, looking down at you in the doorway.

“I want to.”

His lips quirk up at the corners, a full smile breaking through and causing your stomach to flutter with so much force you’re sure it’s visible through your shirt. His eyes fall to your lips, lingering, before he clears his throat, looking away.

“I’ll text you when I get to the door, promise.”

You lock your pinky with his. “Send a selfie, just so I know it’s you and not someone else using your phone.”

Sunghoon’s head falls back in a laugh. “Should I just call you? That way you can make sure I get back to uni in one piece.”

You nod.

“That wasn’t anything with Chaewon earlier, I just needed advice on some girl stuff..” He trails off, searching your eyes. It’s obvious that he’s telling the truth, that he wants you to believe him. You do. “I wasn’t sure if that was something I could talk about with you.”

Girl stuff. Hmm. You try not to read too much into it and look at the bigger picture instead—your best friend is going through something and doesn’t feel like he can come to you about it.. You squeeze his pinky reassuringly, a flutter in your stomach when he smiles.

“You can talk to me about anything,” you say, meaning it.

Sunghoon presses his lips together, humming and unlinking your fingers. “Next time,” he says after a beat, waving at you.

You shut the door, locking it while watching through the peephole, he leaves as soon as the lock clicks shut. In the kitchen, your hot chocolate is cooling down, and your phone rings in your back pocket. Sunghoon’s calling.

Hanging out with Sunghoon. Making sure he sticks to the time-blocked schedule you made for him. Quizzing him on biology terms until he gets restless. If the last two weeks were an episode of Family Feud, those would be the top three answers to the question: Name something YN is doing right now.

Thankfully tonight, it’s the first one.

You’ve been sitting on the couch for so long, Jake has both left for football practice and arrived from football practice. Conversation ebbs and flows—an hour or so of nonstop talking, followed by another hour or so of comfortable near silence.

It’s during a quiet hour that Sunghoon sits up straight, clearing his throat before saying, “Let me ask you something. He retreats to the other side of the couch, turning to face you with his whole body. “I don’t want things to be weird after I ask, so no matter what your answer is, I won’t bring it up or ask again.”

Arching a curious brow, you nod. “You can ask me anything,” you say, meaning it.

Sunghoon’s face is impressively blank—minus the motion of sharp teeth worrying plush lip, there’s absolutely nothing behind his eyes that seem to stare right through you.

Eventually, he asks, “Can I kiss you?” He says more. Big, scary words like for closure and moving on, but they don’t register. They don’t matter.

Your heart pounds at the base of your throat as you find interest in your hands that sit in your lap. Even without looking at him, you can’t get over the slight crease he had in his brow and the slight tremor in his hands.

“For closure,” you repeat, though your voice doesn’t sound like it’s coming from you, muffled under the thump of your heart.

Sunghoon nods. “For closure.”

A humourless laugh sneaks past your throat as you look at him. You shouldn’t have. In the lamplight, Sunghoon is golden and glorious. Warm light casts one side of his face, diffusing gently over the steep slope of his nose, highlighting his moles and the look in his eyes, gentle and curious all at once. Unwillingly, your gaze falls to his lips, parted, tempting.

One firm nod of your head brings Sunghoon’s hand to your face, his palm cupping your cheek with soft skin as his thumb traces your cheekbone. You grow anxious under his stare, under the drag of his eyes over your features, taking them one at a time like he’s committing them to memory.

Leaning in, your eyes flutter shut as your lips meet his and he freezes, mouth completely still on yours. Delicately, your tongue traces the seam of his lips, soft and plump, until they part for you, moving with yours. Sunghoon’s kiss is unpolished when it reaches you. It’s hesitant but tender, clumsy but sweet, he’s trying and he’s perfect; your favourite.

The kiss is.. it’s everything. It’s the racing of your heart, the thudding, the vibrant buzz you can hear, feel humming against your ears. It’s a rush of blood to the head, a lightness all over that pulls you out of your body. It’s Sunghoon’s soft lips curving into a smile against yours, his gentle hold on your face never letting up as he holds you as close as he can manage, and it’s every bit as lovely as the rest of him.

Palpable is the heartbeat of your friendship, beating to a lull under the surface of the kiss, fizzling out into nothing, a steady silence, flatlining to give way to something more, something bigger.

Every brush of your lips against his is a revelation, a confession. You’re all I’ve ever wanted, you tell him with your kiss. You’re everything I need. His free hand finds yours, locking your fingers and squeezing, the action timed well enough to make you think he hears you, to make you think he’s saying, we’ll be okay, I still love you.

With that, he pulls away, a delicate tension piercing the air. Blown eyes and laboured breathing—he’s beautiful, fuzzy around the edges with warm orange and all of the love in your heart. Breathless, you chew on your lip, cognisant of Sunghoon’s hand in yours and the sparkle in his eyes as he looks at you.

Belatedly, you squeeze his hand back, smiling. “Was it everything you ever dreamed of?” you whisper, part teasing, all curious.

Abruptly, Sunghoon stands up, letting go of you in the process. “I have to go.”

You want to stop him, you think you’re supposed to. To grab him by the arm and kiss him again, to yell in his face that you love him until he understands. But you don’t. Instead, you stay seated, staring at Sunghoon’s back and following him with your eyes out of the room and down the hall until he’s out of sight.

It’s your first time being so upset after a kiss, and you can’t tell if it’s his leaving or the mention of him moving on that’s tripping you up so much. That’s causing melancholy to crawl from the shadows, sinking its jagged nails into your skin to pull you under.

You love him. He’s gone.

Eyes stuck on the doorway, time stretches over the room around you, thick and malleable, wet and cloying—clay stuck under your nails for days as the fire in the kiln rages on.

Sighing, you get up and wait at his door. You ball your hand into a limp fist, knocking weakly. Sunghoon doesn’t reply. You try again, harder. Still nothing.

Barging into the room, you find him sitting on the end of his bed with his face in his hands.

“Don’t move on.” The words come out before you realise and Sunghoon lifts his head, squinting at you.

“Huh?” He tilts his head, watching closely as you approach him, tipping it back enough to meet your eyes when you stand over him.

You take a breath, holding it until your head starts to spin. “I don’t want you to love someone else, Sunghoon. Please don’t move on.”

The stillness that follows is disconcerting, a long quiet you can feel on your skin, amplifying the blank stare on his face as he looks up at you. His eyes flash, a spark of hope behind them so bright it stings to look at.

“Do you..” He trails off, his lips moving to form the next word though stopping short.

“I do,” you whisper, nodding. “I’m sorry for taking so long.”

An exhaled laugh comes from his nose as he grins, shaking his head. “You like me?” he asks, excitement and disbelief fighting for authority over his voice, his hands holding your waist and pulling you down into his lap.

“I love you,” you admit, settling on his thighs.

“You do?” His eyes are wide and gleaming, searching every feature on your face before settling on your own.

You nod. “So much.”

Sunghoon’s chin tips up, his lips pressing against yours, excited pecks that can’t turn into much more for the smiles on your faces. You rest your arms on his shoulders, hands clasping behind his head, nervous fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“So.. will you be my boyfriend? For real?”

Tilting his head, he tries and fails to fight a smile. “I will. I’m a little bummed though.”

“Why?” You raise a brow, and the word tips up at the end with it.

“I wanted to be the one to ask you.” Sunghoon’s honesty warms the room, endearing you completely.

You grin, loving the heat spreading over your cheeks. “Ask me anyway.”

“Please can I be your boyfriend?”

In the weeks that followed, it became immediately clear that boyfriend Sunghoon operated on a pendulum swinging between sexual ferality and terror. He’d get distracted during study sessions at home, finding more interest in biting at your neck than stream-of-consciousness prose, but closed his eyes if a sex scene came on TV. He’d buck his hips against yours while making out but flinch at the sight of condoms in the store.

He wasn’t ready to have sex and didn’t know how to tell you, so you took matters into your own hands, asking if you could wait until after his results for resubmission came in, saying you didn’t want the distraction for either of you. Sunghoon agreed, pecking your cheek and holding you tight to his chest.

The only thing was that your lecturer hadn’t given him an exact date, so every morning, you held your phone in a vice grip waiting for Sunghoon to update you, and every morning, you got the same text: Nothing today, baby ☹️

This morning, you’re brushing your teeth when he texts you, in all caps: NO FUCKING WAY I GOT A 98 !!! LOOK !!!

When the picture comes through, it’s of him in the mirror and you choke on mouthwash at the sight. He’s smiling, bright and beautiful, in a black vest that he’s holding up a little to show his stomach, though his palm is in the way of his toned abs, and it cuts off right at the top of his grey sweatpants.

Your mouth goes dry as you click on it, fixating on every little detail you can find: the thickness of his fingers against his phone, the dip in his collarbones, the breadth of his shoulders and the cinch of his waist. In a fit of desperation, you try swiping at the bottom of your screen, willing the picture to magically extend. It doesn’t.

hoonie: Finger slipped.. You like?

you: mm..

you: 98??? HOLY SHIT, LOOK AT YOU!!!

hoonie: All you.. do you like the picture?

you: i love it………….

hoonie: My girl 🤍

Another picture comes in, and sure enough, through the glare of his laptop screen, you see: Course name: The Modernist Movement: Joyce, Woolf, and Hemingway. Marks Awarded: 98.0.

you: well done baby !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

hoonie: Thx 😁

hoonie: Can I have my prize now ha ha .. haha 😈

you: just for that emoji, no you absolutely cannot.

Your resolve isn’t strong enough when it comes to Sunghoon, because purple devil emoji and all, you show up at his door with condoms in your bag and a bouquet of lilies behind your back.

The door creaks open and Sunghoon greets you with a grin. “Hey, gorgeous. You proud of me?”

You beam at him, holding out the flowers. “I’m very proud, Hoon, well done.”

“I don’t want to ruin the moment,” he starts, taking the bouquet from your hands and sniffing the flowers with an approving smile. “But hearing you say you’re proud of me is awakening something I didn’t know existed.”

“A good something?”

“Mm,” he hums, arms finding your waist before he pecks your lips. “A very good something.”

Sunghoon’s words hit your lips and your core, a desperate heat flooding your stomach as he kisses you deeply, his body pressed tightly against yours while he pulls you into his apartment. He kicks the door shut with his foot, slipping his hand under your jacket to settle in your back pocket, not quite squeezing but holding your ass as gently as he can manage.

He breaks away from you, love in his eyes as he stares down into yours, catching his breath. “I don’t think we own a vase.”

In his kitchen, you rifle through cupboards to find something to hold the flowers, eventually finding a whiskey decanter in the cupboard under the sink, and holding it up for Sunghoon to see.

“Oh, yeah,” he says. “It’s Jay’s. It’ll work right?”

You nod, taking it to the sink to rinse it. Sunghoon wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder watching you fill the decanter with water and flower food before grabbing the bouquet. He presses open-mouthed kisses to your neck and you struggle to stay focused as you cut down the stems on the flowers, arranging them neatly.

“Can I take a photo?” he asks when you’re done.

He’s smiling when you turn around to look at him, a soft curve of his lips that makes your heart race, a deep tenderness in his eyes when you meet them. You smile too.

“They’re yours, baby, do whatever you want.”

“A photo of you with the flowers,” he clarifies.

Warmth settles in your chest, a grin spreading over your lips from ear to ear. You nod, taking the decanter in your hands when he lets go of you, holding the flowers up beside your face and smiling for his camera. As his phone shutter clicks away, you steal glances at his face behind it. He’s watching the screen with a smile, telling you how beautiful you are.

“I want pictures of you too,” you say, handing the flowers over.

“I’m yours, baby, do whatever you want.”

Sunghoon poses for your photos, smiling sweetly in some and sniffing the bouquet appreciatively with closed eyes for others. He’s glowing and he’s beautiful and your heart triples in size while taking picture after picture until your phone tells you it has ten percent.

“Thank you, YN,” he says. “I’ve never gotten flowers before, I love them.” His arms settle around your waist, lips pressing against yours before you have the chance to respond.

You try anyway, mumbling against his lips that you love him. In response, Sunghoon grins, but the feeling of his cock growing hard against you is distracting, a lust-coated thorn in the side of the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. With locked lips and uncertain steps, the two of you bump into corners and trip over your own feet, stumbling to his room and parting only to tear his hoodie over his head.

Breathless, you pull away, eyes trailing over him and picking up on everything, from the tremble in his hands to the lust-addled worry in his eyes. He’s nervous, you think—though it escapes you, the last word coming out like a question.

Sunghoon scoffs, his hands resting on your waist under your shirt, skin clammy against yours. “Of course, I’m nervous.”

“You don’t have to be.”

“I just want to be good for you.”

“Don’t worry about that, let me take care of you, Hoon.” Your palms drag up his torso — firm abs through soft cotton, defined chest over racing heart — to rest on his shoulders. “Sit,” you say when he nods.

He gulps, taking a seat on the end of his bed under your gentle push, eyes widening when you sink to your knees between his legs and reach for his drawstring, pulling the ends to untie the knot.

“Wait,” Sunghoon says, breathless, scrunching up his face and dropping his head. “Let me calm down, baby. At this rate, I’ll come just seeing your hand on it.”

You giggle, resting your head on his thigh and wrapping the drawstring around your finger.

“I’m serious, YN,” he mumbles, laughing as he takes his vest off. “I need a minute.”

Sunghoon’s eyes are pressed shut as he tries to collect himself, lips pouty and kiss-bitten, slightly parted with ragged breaths slipping out. You wait patiently for him. He’s so pretty like this, with the crease in his brow and the pretty pink flush dusting his cheeks as his chest rises and falls. You can’t help but smile, leaning into his touch when his hand rests on top of your head, his blunt nails grazing your scalp. After a while, he seems more at ease, his eyes finding yours and he smiles shyly, telling you he’s ready now and lifting his hips from the bed to let you pull his sweats and underwear down.

Free from the constraints of fabric, his cock slaps his stomach with a wet sound as the tip meets his skin, leaving a pearlescent streak over his abs. The sight makes your mouth water and you can’t look away. “Pretty,” you whisper.

Wrapping a hand under his tip, you swipe it with your thumb, taking time to memorise the flutter of his eyelids, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple, and the soft sigh he lets out. You stroke him slowly, liking the way his breath picks up as his brows knit together before you take him in your mouth. It’s a tight fit but you do your best, spurred on by the way he tugs at your hair and stutters through a holy fuck as you take as much of him as you can.

Sunghoon goes silent, only squirming when you use your hand to stroke him near his base. Self-conscious about his lack of vocal affirmation, you look up at him through your lashes, and the pure bliss on his face is unbearably attractive. His eyes are rolled back under furrowed brows, his mouth hanging open as he throws his head back.

“Am I doing okay?” you ask, using the moment to catch your breath.

He nods, inhaling shakily and screwing his eyes shut while his hips buck up into your fist. “I’m.. You’re doing such a good job, baby, so good.”

Satisfaction courses through you from the praise, a high that dulls the ache in your jaw. Still watching him, you massage his balls in your palm, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his tip when he whines. You tongue at his slit until he thrusts back into your mouth, tip hitting your throat, and he gasps when you gag, his arm coming up to cover his eyes. A belated apology slips from his lips, mumbled as he strokes your hair with a shaking hand and goes quiet again. When you speed up, his breath stutters, the muscles in his thighs contracting around your head as you suck and lick and drool on his cock.

A moan of your name, and his hand holding your hand down, are the only warnings you get before Sunghoon comes, spilling his load right down your throat. Whining, his hips buck up against your face, pushing further and further until he falls back onto the mattress.

Your throat is hoarse and aches while you use the back of your hand to wipe at your lips, enjoying what’s left of his taste on your tongue. Deep red tints his neck and chest, a pretty flush gleaming under the sheen of sweat on his skin. He’s mesmerising, as he tries for air through swollen lips and looks up at you through squinted eyes. He reaches for you, cute grabby hands tugging your shirt and pulling you down so you’re lying next to him with your head on his chest.

“You’re amazing, baby, so good for me,” Sunghoon whispers, eyes fluttering shut as you drag your nails over his torso, feeling the subtle heave of the slick, sculpted muscle over his stomach and chest.

Pride heats your chest, satisfaction rolling over you like a wave. “Really?”

He hums in affirmation, nodding his head.

“You were so quiet, I couldn’t really tell,” you add, hungry for more praise.

“The walls are so thin in here, I just got used to being quiet,” Sunghoon says, frowning. Hand meeting your chin, he tips your head up towards him, pressing a soft kiss to your lips and mumbling, “I’m sorry. You were perfect, I swear.”

It’s a sweet kiss. Until lips move harder and hands get lower, desperate as he thumbs the top of your leggings, palm unmoving but a dangerous heat blooms in your stomach anyway.

“Can I..” Sunghoon pinches you softly through the material, unsure eyes boring deep into yours.

You nod. “You can.”

Slipping under your waistband, his fingers skate across your skin dipping between your thighs. He grazes your slit, satisfaction clear in the groan he lets out as he feels the wetness there, pulling it over the length of your slit to cover your clit. Your breath hitches, a strangled gasp, pleasure and surprise meeting in your throat under the pressure of his thumb on your clit, the gentle sting of his finger pushing into you.

What Sunghoon lacks in experience, he makes up for with the sheer length and thickness of his fingers. It’s almost jarring, it’s enough to force your eyes closed and bring a sigh rumbling out of you, ache and relief settling between your legs, where he curls a finger against your walls and drags slow circles over your clit.

“Can you take these off, baby?” he asks, hand away to touch your leggings.

You don’t waste a second, sitting up to pull them off, throwing them and your underwear across the room. Sunghoon licks his lips, tugging at the hem of your shirt.

“And this? If you want..”

You nod, pulling it off immediately to let it join the rest of your clothes in a heap on the floor. The way he gulps is a confidence boost, his dilated pupils taking in every inch of your body, though his gaze always pulls back to your bra—white and lacy, thin enough for your nipples to push through the fabric and Sunghoon can’t seem to get enough, though he waits until you’re lying down again to touch you.

Sunghoon props himself up on his elbow, leaning over you. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, dragging a finger over the lace at the top of your bra, toying with the material and the little bow sitting between your breasts. His eyes flick up to meet yours. “So beautiful,” he repeats.

Hiding your face in his chest, you mumble, “Thank you,” into his skin while trying to ignore the heat spreading over your body wherever he touches you. His hand trails from your arm to your waist, resting on your hips to slip over your ass for a beat, where he grabs and squeezes the flesh there before coming back around to slot between your legs—you lift one of them, resting it over his body, and he’s smiling sweetly when you look up at him.

Sunghoon’s movements are unchanging, though the sensation is heightened by the unbridled desire in his lidded eyes that urges white heat to lick over every inch of your skin—this time he pushes two fingers into you.

It doesn’t get better than this, you think. But it does, quickly.

Leaning over you, his eyes flick across your face, one feature at a time as he chews on his lip. Reaching up, you push some of his hair from his face, holding it back and saying, “Relax, baby.”

“Don’t want to hurt you.”

Moving your hand, you blink when his hair flops back over his forehead, tickling your eyelashes. His eyes are focused now, staring straight down into yours, want and worry flashing behind them.

“You won’t, I promise,” you say, locking your pinky with his, feeling relieved when he smiles.

Sunghoon pushes in slowly, his name slipping from your lips when he exhales shakily, head falling forward. The sting, the pleasure, make it hard to breathe, molten desire taking hold of your lungs as he carves out a place for himself as far as you’ll take him, all the way to the hilt as slow as he can manage.

A moan tears out of him, lewd and whiny as his hair tickles your collarbone, head falling into the crook of your neck. His skin is hot and damp against yours, his breath burning your shoulder as he tries to calm down. It’s difficult to register much else, tethered only by the sound of his voice when he asks, “Am I hurting you?”

“Hoon,” you whisper.

“Can you look at me, baby?” He lifts his head, resting a hand on your cheek. You blink your eyes open, gaze locking with his, where concern pushes through his desire. “Am I hurting you?” he asks again. “Are you okay?”

You nod. “I’m okay, just..” You sigh. “Full. Need a minute.”

Sunghoon kisses you, lips moving gently with yours, passing breathy whines between your mouths until you feel yourself relaxing. Pulling his plush bottom lip between yours, you suck on it, nodding. “Want you to move, baby,” you mumble.

He scans your face, eyes meeting yours as he pulls his hips back. He’s slow, so slow with his thrusts that your belly turns with want, your fingernails sink into the taut skin of his back, and jagged sobs fall out of you with each drag of his cock along your walls.

Everywhere his skin touches yours is set ablaze with scorching heat, goosebumps pushing past the surface as his breath fans your neck and his sharp teeth graze your skin. He bites hard enough to sting, and you wince as his tongue flicks over your bitten flesh to soothe you.

You were so worked up earlier, writhing against the sheets and coming undone in his palm, so bliss quickly pushes through the ache between your legs. “Good, Hoon, feels so good,” you manage, struggling to convey how perfect it is.

“Just want to make you feel good.” His words melt into each other, vowels soft and elongated as they curl around each other. He’s working up a steady rhythm, his tip consistently nudging you where you need it—the spot that makes the room blur around you. “That’s all I want.”

Before long, the knot in your stomach pulls you up from the mattress, arching your back towards the ceiling. Mouth to mouth, chest to chest—it’s the closest you’ve ever felt to someone else, the closest you’ve ever been. The thought alone knocks the wind out of you, and his persistent whining does nothing to help.

Your want and adoration for Sunghoon run bone-deep, inching up your spine and creeping over your shoulders, intertwined with an all-consuming pleasure that turns the heat in your stomach molten as a shudder zips through you. Even though you can’t find the words to let him know, he lifts your hips from the bed to fuck you deeper, harder, into the mattress until shaky orgasms pull both of you under.

You let him fall into you, fingers curling around his hair, whispering I love you into the skin of his neck as he comes, most of his weight on top of you while you catch your breath, relishing in the fullness you feel as the last waves of your high pull back. You stay like this for as long as he needs, his head coming up from the crook of your neck to smile at you before pressing his lips to yours. A sleepy haze fills the room around you, tongue swiping tongue as you giggle happily into his mouth.

After a while, he gets up, tying the condom to throw it away and comes back with his shirt. He uses it to clean up—gentle between your legs, pressing kisses to your calves while he does. Sunghoon’s tenderness wraps around your heart, and love clouds your vision, forming a blurry trail that follows all of his movements, glowing like something from a dream, ethereal, an apparition.

The bed dips beside you, his arms around you, pulling you in so his chin rests on your head. You push your cheek into his chest, hoping the two of you will meld into one—the thought makes you warm all over, a fuzziness that reaches every part of your body while he presses kisses into your hair, rubbing your back.

“I love you,” he says, voice as soft as the rest of him. “I’m glad I exist.”

mama park: Hi lovely 😍 missing you lots, wondering when you’ll be home for Xmas………..love ma

Sunghoon stirs, nose scrunching as he snores softly into the quiet of a winter morning. His chest rises and falls steadily under your head and he doesn’t move when you sit up. The lamp on his desk is still on — neither of you could be bothered getting up to turn it off last night — and under its dim glow, you admire him. Perfect lips gently curved—long lashes kissing the skin under his eyes.

Love hits you from all angles, warmth all over from head to toe despite the chill in Sunghoon’s room. You can’t help but grin, leaning up to nose along the underside of his chin, his natural scent so soft yet dizzying as you nuzzle into him. He stirs again, turning his head this way and that before resting, you feel a bit bad, deciding to leave him be and text his mum back.

you: hi mum !!! missing you sooooooo much :((( will be home asap

mama park: BTW Sunghoon told me everything. I raised such good actors LOL make sure he looks after you and keeps you happy!

you: i’m so sorry we lied to you..

you: but i’m really happy with him and he loves me a lot

you: i love him so much .. never been so sure of anyone in my life

permanent taglist: @asahicore

#sunghoon smut #enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen scenarios #sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon smut #park sunghoon x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen oneshots #sunghoon oneshots #sunghoon imagines #enhypen hard hours #fic.sunghoon

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inuiiwonderland · 2 months

Text

Twisted captivity

Chapter 1

Twst third years x fem reader

A/n: here is the first chapter of my new series “twisted captivity” !! Again this is a yandere series so it will have some dark themes! Also, the first couple chapters will be more on the short side since It has been a while since I wrote anything and also because of my major writers block and motivation for writing. So I’m taking baby steps rn lol. But I genuinely wanna write this since it’s been on my mind for MONTHS! So enough about my rambling I really hope you guys enjoy this!

Words:766

You walked down the long hallway as Crowley explained to you the rules and things you would be in charge of.

“Since your father told me you’re a researcher, you will be in charge of writing down every detail and interaction you have with the mers and also help us understand more about them and their biology!”

You simply nodded, still not believing that he has REAL mermaids and mermen’s in his care.

“You will also be in charge of feeding them, cleaning and taking care of their tanks! Though do be careful, some of them can be very wary and may attack when they feel threatened!”

“Ah that’s…good to know”

“Great! Now it’s time for you to come meet them so follow me” You followed him as he led you down a long hallway before walking through a double door which led you to a giant lab. In there you can see a big window as people rush in all sorts of directions.

“This is our lab! Here we run all our experiments and test” Your eyes grow wide as you see a couple of people roll in a big cart with an equally large tank which has a mermaid inside.

The poor thing was thrashing around in the tank as she clawed on the glass. The tank must have been made with really strong glass since it didn’t crack or break by how hard the poor thing was banging on it. The cart was rolled to another room, which you did NOT want to know about.

“Don’t worry she’ll be fine”

Something tells you she wouldn’t….

“Come follow me! I’ll show you the less aggressive ones first”

Okay now you were slowly starting to regret this

Maybe you should’ve stayed home and made yourself a good meal as you watched your favorite show. But no, you decided to show up instead.

What if this is all illegal? What if the government or whoever doesn’t even know such a thing exists?! Or maybe Crowley is working for the government?!

As you begin to panic, you accidentally bump into said man as he comes to a stop.

“Sor-“

“We’re here!” You step aside and you stare in awe as you are met with a beautiful sight.

The place looked absolutely gorgeous. It definitely didn’t look like it belonged in a research facility.

The place had a huge waterfall along with some beautiful trees and huge rocks and caves. You noticed a bridge in the center of it all and it had beautiful long vines surrounding it.

This definitely looked like it came from a fairy tale

“Welcome to the heartslabyul enclosure!” He says with a big smile.

“This place is so…”

“Amazing right? I’m glad you think so because I spent millions on this place!”

“Hey Crowley!” You both turned around to see a man with black and white hair. The man looked annoyed as he glared down at Crowley.

“Ah! Crewel! Nice seeing you here today, say why are you here?” The man scowled.

“I work here you idiot”

“Hey now that’s not a good way to talk to your boss! I have a new worker here with me and you can’t make it seem like calling me an idiot is okay!” Crowley says as crewel turns to look at you.

“You should still run while you have the chance” He says which causes Crowley to gasp.

You just awkwardly laugh as crewel and Crowley continue to bicker back and forth. You step away from the two as you decide to explore the area a bit more.

You walk down the bridge and to a small path that leads you to another beautiful part of the area. As you continued exploring, you didn’t notice the pair of eyes that peeked from under one of the lily pads.

Red eyes followed you as you continued to walk down the path.

Weird….never seen her around before

He watches you like a hawk before quickly ducking down as you turn around.

You eye the water curiously

“Weird….could’ve sworn I heard something” As you were about to walk a little closer towards the water, the sound of your name being called made you stop. You look up to see Crowley waving at you from the bridge.

“Come! I have more things to discuss with you in my office!” You just nodded but before you left, you looked back at the water one last time before walking away and to where crowley was.

As you leave, the boy slowly comes back up with curious eyes.

She looks nice….

Again sorry for such a short chapter😓 but as I said, baby steps!

Taglist: @ruisann @roseapov @0ffth3rec0rd @anunholyabomination

Ask if you wanna be put on the taglist!

Also! Reader will have more like a mother/older sister relationship with the 1st and 2nd years! I will explain more as the story goes:)

#inuiiwonderland🤍#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #twst x female reader #twst x reader #yandere twst #yandere themes #disney twst #twst crowley #twst crewel #twst heartslabyul #twisted wonderland disney #twst imagines #twst #twisted wonderland x fem reader

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paristheonewhoreads · 1 month

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Little Bunny | Raider!Joel x F!reader

warnings: 18+ only, Dark!joel, dom!joel, age gap (Joel is 46, reader is 19), non-con, daddy kink, virgin!reader, sub!reader, innocents kink, oral sex (f!receiving), just the tip fucking?, thigh fucking??, indirect creampie???, somnophilia, pet names (sweetheart, bunny, peach, princess, etc.) toxic femininity, misogyny, groping, mentions of death, murder, slight gore and talks of needing to move a body. Joel is very talkative (calls us a bitch but idk if that’s a tw), and kinda filthy so be warned lol.

Synopsis: Your father leaves before you wake and in his place Joel is the man of the house. You try to get to know the mysterious stranger though he seems to want to do much more than just talk to you.

A/n: SMUT. (Finally huh?) Please if you are of any age younger than eighteen, DO NOT READ. Also, quick FYI this story takes place about ten years after the outbreak so things are relatively better than they would be if it were twenty years instead. That being said, enjoy!

P.s In my mind I’m writing about game Joel (because to me he’s just…better. No hate to Pedro I love him) having said that, it’s obviously up to you who you imagine when reading :)

Word count: 9.5k 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 (that was an accident)

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

Chapter Two

The soft mellow breeze of spring flutters into your bedroom as you stir awake. Birds chirping outside welcoming you from your slumber. You sit up in bed with a yawn, and stretch your arms and back out after being curled up all night. It’s not as cold as it was during winter now that spring is here and the sun is a much more constant friend again, so sleeping with your window open is always a treat in the early mornings.

You push your soft pink floral bedsheets aside and slip your feet into your fuzzy slippers. The house is quiet. Strange, your father would be up by now either making breakfast or feeding the chickens out back. Either way, you make your way out of your room and into the kitchen. You stop before going in at your fathers door. Pressing your ear up against it to see if you hear him.

With no sound coming from the other side you decide to give a light knock on the wooden door, “Dad? Are you in there?” you ask just loud enough for him to have heard you on the other side.

There’s no response.

At this your brows furrow slightly, and you go to turn and open the bedroom door.

“He’s not here princess.” a honeyed voice calls behind you.

Turning back, you see Mr.Miller is standing at the end of the hallway, cup of coffee in hand.

“Hope you don’t mind, made myself a cup. Been a long time since I’ve had my morning fix.” he raises the mug up slightly.

You shake your head, “not at all, good morning.” you say anxiously. You don’t know why, but everytime-which haven’t been that many considering you’ve only interacted with him a handful of times, you body spikes in nervousness.

He makes you jittery. That being said it’s honestly a little silly, he doesn’t even speak or do much to make you feel this way. So you try to push that feeling deep down. Ignoring it.

With your hand off the doorknob, and being fully turned to him, you’re brought back to why your out in the hall in the first place.

“You said my fathers not here?” you recall, head tilting slightly, hands meeting at your front as they start to nervously fittle.

He doesn’t answer right away, just takes a look at you up and down. He takes in how you look in the mornings. Your hair is down, cascading down over your shoulders, not as neat as it had been last night, but not at all any less winsome. Your wearing a silk pink nightgown, white lace running along the neckline and helm. It had white bows too, two on either side of where the straps met the neckline and one right where the slit on your thigh began. A semi matching silk robe over it, given the slight chill in the morning air.

Your cute little fuzzy slippers on your feet. You look absolutely ravishing.

Fuck. And she’s only in her fucking pajamas? Joel thought to himself.

He clears his through and nods his head before taking a sip from his mug, “He and his men left at dawn, one of ‘em said they saw another group just west of here. I sent some of my men along with them too.” he explains.

You frown at this, pout prominent. He left? Without saying anything? That’s not like your father, he’d have woken you up or..maybe he left a-

“He wrote you a little something before he left.” Joel pipes up before making his way to you, he passes you by making his way into the living room and picking up a letter left on the coffe table.

He hands it to you, and you immediately feel yourself relax a little as you see his writing on the envelope.

A letter.

Is all it says, he’s never been one for writing. You carefully rip open the paper and pull out the letter, unfolding it.

Dear honey,

I’ll be gone by the time you wake up tomorrow and read this. I’ve been told that there is another group of men out west. Not as big as Joel’s, but they were seen with heavy arms and even a couple of horses. Not all of Joel’s men are in condition to go out there again, Joel included. So he and the ones who can’t will be staying behind to keep an eye on things here. Make sure he feels as welcome as he can. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Might take a couple of days, no more than a week. Take care of yourself and remember to feed the chickens when you wake up.

I’ll love you always,

dad.

You both ease up and tense as you read your thatchers words. His explanation for why he’s left is brief, but still you understand. His final farewell at the end of his note has you smile slightly. You sigh as you finish, putting the letter back in the envelope.

Looking up, you find Joel is still there, eyeing you almost expectingly.

“He give a good reason for why I stayed back?” he surprises you with a sly smile, and a light chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. As if he was the one who was nervous.

You blink at him for a moment, not saying anything before you snap back into it, “he said you were in no condition to go and help.” The sentence, although not intentionally, comes out with a sharp tone.

Joel’s gaze hardens for a moment, jaw clenching, his hands curl into fists at his side. A look of spite flashes across his face, however, as quickly as it appears it vanishes.

“That how you talk to all your guests?” he nags.

Your eyes drop to the floor at his tone. He sounds as if he was your father scolding you. Looking down at the letter in your hands you recall what your father had told you.

“…Make sure he feels as welcome as he can…”

With a defeated sigh, your shoulders slump slightly.

Once again you meet his gaze with your own, “I’m sorry Mr.Miller, I guess I’m just…he’s never left so often in such little time before. And,well, he’s not exactly at his prime anymore…” you trail off.

Why would you even tell him that? He doesn’t care. Much less need to know why you’re being so rude.

His eyes softened at that, “I’m sure your old man will be just fine sweetheart.”

Him calling you sweetheart makes the nest of butterflies in your stomach flutter slightly.

You clear your throat, and that seems to relieve the tension and awkwardness in the room, “Have you had breakfast yet?” you mellow, slippers flip-flopping with each step you take as you make your way to the kitchen, Joel hot on your trail.

“No.” He says as he leans on the opposite side of the counter, just looking at you, “Not much of a breakfast person. Cup of coffee’s all I really need.”

Trying to be a good hostess you try to persuade him into eating, “well just coffee is no good. Especially since…“ you pause.

Why had Joel stayed behind? He seems perfectly fine. He walks okay, no limp. Doesn’t look bruised or beaten at all. Even looks rather energized from the nights rest he’d gotten.

The unsettling feeling you’d pushed down earlier rises and settles back in you gut as you see he really is in the condition to go out there again.

He gives you a quizzical look, lifting a brow at you. If he had taken it

“um, since you’re not well. My father said you’re not in a good condition.” you try not to let your suspicions glances be obvious as you turn around to rummage through the pantry.

You decide you’ll make eggs with potatoes and sausage. Last harvest the whole town had been quite overwhelmed with how many potatoes were had. So you figured you’d just have to try and sneak them into your meals until the hefty supply in potatoes went down.

“Well I’m starving.” you chirp, trying to change the subject again. Given the ugly look he’d given you in the living room, you didn’t want to grill him for answers just yet.

“How’s about I make us breakfast. Nothing too fancy, but definitely yummy.” You say placing all the ingredients on the counter.

He watches you move around the kitchen pulling out seasonings, pans, plates, all so smoothly. You work your way around, and in Les than thirty minutes you’ve got eggs and sausage cooked and plated. Potatoes still cooking on a pan, the sound of them frying filling the house along with the smell of the sausage.

You place a plate in front of him, handing him a fork and a glass of water.

You yourself sip on a green juice you drink every morning as you stir the potatoes once more.

Joel doesn’t dig in just yet, just observes you as if what you’re doing is so enchanting. Staring at your ass everytime you turn your back to him. He feels himself stiffen in the worn sweats your father had lended him. Trying to distract himself he looks at the clear glass in your hand, “what’s that your drinking?” He asks.

You look from the pan to him, and then to the glass half full in your hand. “Oh, um, this is a green juice I drink in the mornings. It’s supposed to help with digestion and make my skin look healthier.” as you say it, it sounds a little weird.

You’d always taken yourself very seriously in regards to your health. Always making sure you have enough protein and vitamins. Always drinking plenty of water. You suppose it’s because of how you’d lost your mother. She’d given her life to give light to you. Why shouldn’t you take care of yourself?

Maybe a bit dramatic, sure, but really there wasn’t at all anything bad with it. You wouldn’t call yourself high maintenance for your looks, more just your wellbeing.

“Um, you wanna try it?” you ask him after a beat of silence. Offering him the glass he looks at it for a moment, seemingly not really interested in it, but curiosity gets the better of him as he takes the cup from you.

His fingers brush against yours for a split second. You don’t seem to take much notice in it, but fuck if doesn’t feel the spark on his skin when in contact with yours.

You’re just that sweet, aren’t you bunny?

You give him a nod of encouragement to take a sip from the drink. To him you’d just nodded to the question he’d asked you in his head. Christ, if he didn’t want to just pounce on you.

He takes a sip of your mysterious green beverage, it’s not the most delightful think he’s tasted, but also not the most horrible.

“And you say you drink this every..?” he asks you even though he knows what you’d said before. Anything to hear you talk to him.

“Every morning.” You answer with a smile. He takes another sip, tasting it again, before shaking his head, “not for me. Don’t know how you drink that.” He exaggerates.

This makes you laugh, your giggle filling the kitchen. At the sound of your laughter Joel feels his hand twitch. The urge to calm his stuffing cock in his pants. God he needs you. If he doesn’t get his hands on you soon he’ll have to just take you whichever way it fits best.

You move back to the pan, potatoes ready now after one final stir, oblivious of the man across from you’s thoughts. You pick it up and move over to where he’s sitting, giving him two big spoonfuls on his plate before serving yourself some.

“It’s not that bad. Besides they pay off don’t they?” You joke as you gesture to your face, moving your head side to side in order to show off your glowing skin.

Joel admires you as you do so, and even when you go to fork at your food he still doesn’t break his gaze from looking at you.

“Yeah, guess they do.” is all he responds with before he’s digging into his own plate.

Breakfast goes by quickly as you both eat in silence. Once finished Joel excuses himself and wander to his room. You wash up before heading to your bedroom as well. After a nice shower, you change into a white lace babydoll top, some old light wash jean shorts, and your old white converses.You let your hair down so that it can air dry, and put on your gold heart locket.

After almost forgetting to feed the chickens, you go out into the backyard, grabbing a scoop full of dried corn you pour it into a small woven basket. Placing it on your hip, you begin to toss some of it on the ground, the chicks and their mothers rushing to you to get as much as they can.

Once they’ve been fed, you decide to stay outside and enjoy the warm breeze now that it’s noon. You head inside to get a something to read from the book shelf in the living room. You pick a random one you don’t believe you’ve read yet, and as you’re walking back you notice your fathers letter on the coffe table.

You swiftly pick it up and take it to your room. You’ve just finished stuffing it into your other small stack of journals and papers you’ve saved, when you hear a knock on the front door.

Knowing that it couldn’t have been your dad because of the knock itself, you wonder who it could be. Your halfway to the door when there’s another insistant knock.

You open the door to find another man you’ve never met before.

He’s got a raven mane on top his head, with a just as equally dark mustache and thick scuff growing along his jaw. Beauty marks pepper his face, and as you meet his dark eyes, he’s looking back at you with a gaze so deep you could get lost in them.

“Um,” you look around and behind him but he seems to be alone, “Can I help you…” you trail off.

“Tommy. Tommy Miller, a pleasure.” He introduces himself and extends a hand for you to shake. Tommy Miller?

Miller?

“You’re Joel’s..” you wait for him to answer you as you shake his hand. Unlike the other Miller he doesn’t squeeze as hard.

“Brother. I actually came here to speak to him. He in by any chance?” His heavy accent rings.

“Oh, um, yes. Yes he is. Come inside and I’ll go get him.” You push the front door open wider as the miller brother passes you and walks into the living room.

You don’t even need to go and get Joel because he’s already walking down the hall to the two of you. He’s changed into a dark green flannel and some worn jeans, boots heavy on his feet.

“Tommy.” He greets his brother.

You look between the two men, both of whom stand taller than yourself. You do see the similarities, their height, their eyes, thick southern accents, but other than that they’re both completely different from one another.

“Joel.” Tommy nods, “Came to talk to you ‘bout something.” he says with a look you can’t quite place your finger on.

Joel seems to know what it is, shakes his head

then looks to you, “mind given us a moment here princess?” he gestures between him and his brother.

At the pet name Tommy smirks, raising a brow at you. That makes your cheeks flare up, and your skin becomes warm. Joel notices, but his expression doesn’t change.

At the attention on both millers you become flustered, “Um,y-yeah. Sure.” You stammer, as you go to pick up your book. With a small smile you give Tommy in goodbye, you make your way out into the backyard again. You walk over to the swing chair that hangs from the big tree out back. It covers you in shade and you swing slightly on it as you read.

You’re only able to focus on your book for so long. Your mind wandering over to the two men inside. His brother just happened to stay too? I’d of thought he’d had sent him too. Tommy didn’t look mal for wear. If enything it seems the two brother would’ve been in perfect shape to go help your father.

Did Joel even answer my question on why he’d stayed?

Joel was a..peculiar man. The first interaction with him had been weird. Borderline creepy. How he’d squeezed your hand. He hasn’t said anything then. It took him until dinner when you were alone to finally talk to you.

You’re rarely put in situations where you need to be introduced yourself in your small town, but surely you’re supposed to say something. Not just stand there with a stoney look on your face.

After a couple moments you try to shake of your thoughts. You wouldn’t need to deal with him alone for long. Dad would be home by dinner tonight and once they’re settled in, he’ll find Joel and his men somewhere else to sleep and he’ll be out of your house. At a distance.

Thirty minutes later, and you’re so engrossed into the book your reading that you don’t notice when Joel steps outside, eyes squinting slightly from the brightness of the suns warmth. He spots you a little ways away and walks on over.

Once at the tree he leans against it, facing you, “Book good?” he asks.

You look up at him, giving him a small smile, “yeah it’s not bad. I’ve never read it before but it’s actually pretty good.” you explain.

“Yeah bet you know plenty about pretty things don’t you? Pretty girl.”

You heat up suddenly at his pet name for you, eyesight immediately moving down to the book in your hands as you become shy, “I-i guess so.” You talk to the book more rather than him.

“Why do you always do that?” his tone serious now.

Oh?

Looking back up at him, you give him a look, and he straightens up again, his features softening as well as his voice, he shrugs his shoulders, “ I’m just saying. Usually you’d at least say thank you when someone compliments you.” he all but scolds.

Panicked,your eyes widen, “oh- I’m sorry. I didn’t-I don’t-.” you scold yourself in your head.

Was that rude of me?

Taking breath, “I just don’t,” you start,”it’s not often I get told things like that.”

I don’t get told things like this by men like you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. Thank you. It’s very sweet of you.” you say sheepishly with a tight lipped smile.

It’s embarrassing really, him having to tell you it wasn’t polite to not say thank you.

He makes a noise of understanding, nodding his head, “Well now, when I compliment you it’d be nice to here that from you. Let me know you like it.”

Do you like it?

A warmth settles into your tummy, “okay. I will from now on Mr.Miller. I didn't mean to be rude,” you try to reason “I guess I just don’t really talk to any new people really.”

“Well people say things like that all the time,” he pushes himself off the tree and steps in front of you. You crank your neck up to be able to see him, “especially to pretty girls like you.” his hand reaches out to run the back of his fingers down your cheek until he can hold your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

He smiles at you, but there’s something else behind it you just don’t-

Stop it. He’s being kind. He’s trying to be nice.

“Thank you.” you say blink up at him, voice meek, butterflies fluttering in your stomach again as you try to push away the unsettling feeling you’ve been getting since his arrival.

He caresses your jaw lightly with his thumb and takes a step back, letting go, “You’re welcome, princess.”

The encounter with Joel doesn’t leave your mind as the rest of the day goes by. All you can do is replay the scene over and over and over again in your head. Analyzing everything about it.

From the way he spoke to you once you’d said thank you.

“…Princess…”

Princess.

You feel yourself blush and you bit your lip in order to suppress the stupid smile that wants to plaster itself on your face, that insufferable feeling of something bubbling in your stomach intensifying.

To the way he’d touched you. His hands had felt rough when you’d shook them upon your first interaction. You never knew they could be so soft however. When it came to caressing your face they’d been so gentle.

Could a man like Joel miller be gentle?

They had been. So gentle. You couldn’t get over how his eyes had scanned your face as you’d looked up at him. His eyes lingering on your lips.

Did he like your lips? Were they as pretty as he’d said you were?

Would he have kissed you?

You shake your head as you dismiss the thought.

No that’s stupid.

Was it stupid though? So stupid that you’re currently trying to put more effort into your looks for dinner?

You sit at your vanity, starring at the girl looking back at you through the mirror. You’ve done up your hair is half up half down. You’d put in some old hair rollers that had given your hair some soft curls as they cascaded down your back. You’d added some lipstick to your cheeks as blush.

Not having much to work with in terms of makeup seen as most of it was over ten years old and more than likely long since experienced. All you can really do is just add some color to your cheeks,lips, and a little bit to the lid of your eyes.

You’d picked out another dress similar to yesterdays, a white knee length dress. It sits nicely on your body, or so the women of the town had said, whatever that may mean. It feels comfortable, so you go with it.

Dinner wouldn’t be much, just some vegetables, rice and some roasted rabbit your dad had in the slaughterhouse out back. You never went in there. Ever. When you’d been six your father had been working on the garden and you’d been playing and wondered into it.

Never again.

You’d screamed so loud people nearby had run up the hill to your home to see what was wrong.

You shiver and wiggle your body at the thought. Gross.

Joel had gone in there per your request. When you’d explained why you just couldn’t go in there he’d laughed at you.

You’d shoved him slightly with your shoulder, “hey it’s not funny! It was really scared. Left me traumatized even.” you smile as he chuckles.

“Don’t worry pretty girl, don’t gotta go in there anytime soon.” he’d said as he passed you after patting your head.

That’s another reason for you putting more effort into yourself tonight. You’d cooked the rice and chopped up the vegetables already. All that was left was the rabbit but you’d but that to cook about thirsty minutes ago so it’d be done in about fifteen more.

A once over as you fix your hair has you overthinking.

Is it too much? This is stupid. One compliment and your getting ready for…what? Him?

Before you can make up your mind on wether just taking this dress off along with the makeup there’s a knock on your door.

You stumble slightly on your bare feet, as you bad towards the door nervously, cracking it open so that only your head pops out.

Joel stands there still dressed in his same jeans he’d worn earlier only thing that’s different is he’s also bearfoot, and he’s wearing a white t-shirt that looks comfy. It hugs his upper body so…well.

You can see his broad shoulders, toned chest, even the muscles of his arms, which seem to be just about bursting through the seams.

At seeing you poke you’re head out of the door he raises a brow, “Dinners ready. Made sure it was cooked.” He says

“Oh you didn’t have to do that, I was just about to go and check on it.” You frown

“Well then how’s ‘bout you come on out of there then darlin’.”

“Well I would-I mean I will just-um.” you try to make something up to stay in a little longer. “just,I’ll be out in a second.” shutting the door softly you press your forehead to the door, eyes squeezing shut as you take a breath. You hear Joel start walking down the hall, footsteps heavy.

You’re already dressed you might as well just go out. No point in taking it off now that’s it’s on.

After a moment you force yourself to yank the door open and walk to the kitchen, you see Joel there, serving up two portions, table set.

He’s cutting up some of the rabbit. The dim lights in the kitchen cascading him in a low glow. He looks so..nice. Yeah, he looks nice. This is nice. Your nerves start to simmer down.

He looks up once he hears your soft steps along the hardwood floor, faltering once he takes you in.

Christ.

You’re standing there, looking like an absolute doll. Your hair is done up, he can see there’s more defined coils in your locks as they fall over your shoulders, framing your face.

Your dress isn’t necessarily anything special, but fuck if you don’t look gorgeous. It meets just above your knees, feet bare. You’re beautiful, look more..flushed. You have a tint to your cheeks and lips. He stares more at your lips. He can tell you put more effort in your appearance than you usually do.

You fiddle with your hands as you feel him take you in.

Did he like it?

Did he like you?

He sets the carving knife and meat fork down, not taking his eyes off you as he goes around the counter until he’s standing right infront of you again.

Neither of your gazes leave one another as he approaches you, “Look at you, princess. All dolled up.” He reaches out for you placing a hand on the curve of your waist, pulling you to fun slightly

His other hand goes to cup your face, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“This all for me?” he tilts his head.

You feel yourself becoming warm and bubbly again, giving him a shy nod and small smile, “I thought maybe you’d, um,” you shrug, feeling embarrassed at admitting why you’d tried harder tonight.

“Don’t shy away now baby, tell me.” Joel urges you, hand on your waist sliding back and down to your lower back.

“I thought, maybe you’d..like it. Call me pretty again.” The words make you feel so much more embarrassed it’s practically mortifying.

“I don’t know it was dumb. I know you said I was, and-but I didn’t-“ your nervous rambling is cut short as Joel presses the hand on your lower back, hauling you forward until your pressed up against him.

You hand fly up to his strong chest, ruffling up the white shirt slightly. His touch alone making you feel dizzy.

“Of course I like it darling. I love it. You getting all dressed up for me. You look stunning n’ your lil’ white dress.” He cups your face, giving you a reassuring smile.

He loves it?

You look stunning.

He likes it.

You mirror his smile, feeling like you’d done a good job at making yourself look your best for him.

“I’m glad you like it Mr. Miller.” you giggle.

Joel hum, his yes looking over the features of your face until they land on your lips.

Oh god..

You bit your bottom lip and look up at him, his eyes snapping back to yours as they glimmer in the soft dim lighting of the kitchen.

He moves his face closer to yours, nose brushing against your own as he nudges you head to the side and up.

He’s going to kiss me. You thing dreamily.

He’s going to kiss me. You realize.

Eyes widening in a panic, you pull back, your hand pressing against his chest to halt him.

Joel’s eyebrows knit in confusion, but his hands tighten around you harder as he looks at you.

Frustratingly, his look of concern starts to simmer into one of annoyance and anger, “What’s wrong sweetheart? Thought you said you liked me. Ain’t this why you got all pretty for me?”

Your panic spikes more at his tone, he sounds a bit offended that you didn’t accept his kiss. Like he’d just given you a prize and you’d rejected it.

I didn’t mean to.

“I’ve never kissed anybody.” your nerves have you blurting out, cheeks flaring up.

There’s a beat of silence, but that only makes you feel more ashamed. You’d always felt a sort of shame at your own inexperience with these kind of..things. Although it’d never really matter to you enough to persue anyone or do anything like kiss someone. It would feel embarrassing when all the older women in town you would tease you.

“At this rate you’ll never find yourself a nice man to settle down with.”

“Men don’t take much a liking to girls as shy as you honey.”

“Can’t believe a young girl like you hasn’t been whisked away yet.”

“At your age I was already at least engaged.”

“Now how are you going to get yourself a husband like that, hm?”

That’s all the women would ever agree on when it came to you. They’d all agree when it came to your looks, and polite manners, but god forbid you not have a man yet. You’d tried, once. Really tried, but the boy you’d been talking to just wasn’t very pleasant to be around.

You didn’t exactly know why he hadn’t appealed to you. He was funny, not bad looking, just a year and a half older than you. Perhaps it was the way he’d been too touchy at first, or how he’d make ‘jokes’ about you and your body. Saying all the vulgar things he’d liked to do to you. It’d completely driven you away from ever interacting with anyone like that again.

And now you’ve denied a kiss from the only man besides your father that you’d wanted one from.

You sigh, eyes closing shut, your head drooping forward in shame, as you rest your forehead on his right peck. The urge to apologize for your lack of knowledge is strong. However the weight of embarrassment is stronger as it pulls down on your resolve to say anything.

Joel remains silent, and that only eats at you more. You feel like a complete and utter idiot.

Why did you even put on this stupid dress on for? A dumb compliment?

You’re a joke.

He untangles himself from you, stepping back, “Sit. I’ll serve you dinner.” is all he grunts out. Moving back to where he’d been cutting up the meat.

You feel yourself deflate, shoulders drooping. Not saying anything, you do what you’re told. Sitting there looking at nothing in particular.

Joel comes back with two plates in hand, along with a glass of water. He sets down a plate and the glass of water in front of you, and surprises you when he sits in what would typically be your fathers place.

He doesn’t look at you as he begins to pick food up with his fork, but all you can do is look at him. Silently pleading him to say something.

Did he not like you now that he knows you haven’t even kissed anyone yet?

He probably thinks you’re pathetic. Just like the women said.

You stare at him for a moment more, before deciding you’d rather just get dinner over with and lock yourself in your bedroom. Not really feeling hungry anymore, you just drink your water.

About fall glass in Joel speaks up, “I think it’s cute you haven’t kissed anyone before.” between a mouthful of food.

You bring the glass down from your mouth, setting it down on the table, “you think it’s..cute?” you say, baffled.

He just nods again, “You’re a special girl. A special girl needs her special first.” is all he says, still not looking up from his plate.

“When do you know who’s the special first?” you ask, hoping for an answer to the age long question.

Why can’t i seem to just find someone?

Joel stops chewing, meeting you eyes with his, “y’just do. Start getting all flushed. Your head is first to know. Makes you want to talk to them, get to know em’. Then it’s your body. Starts to get all hot, itching to touch.” He sees you look back down at your plate at that, and smirks.

You don’t look up from the food you’ve barely touched. It feels as if you took into his eyes again after what he’d just said, that he’ll know. He’ll know you feel that way about him.

So you don’t look up, even as he continues, “start to ache between your legs. Getting all tingly, you’re body knows what you want even if your brain doesn’t.”

Is that why you’ve been feeling that way?

Does your body know it wants him?

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, s’just natural. We all react the same way, our bodies..in a sense.” He chuckles the last works.

Nothing is spoken the rest of dinner, it doesn’t even last more than thirty minutes because you suddenly begin to feel your head pounding, mouth dry. You raise you hand up to your forehead to try and somehow calm the ache.

Joel sees this, “y’alright there sugar?” his voice sounds far away.

“Y-yeah. I-i just- need to, go to bed.” is all you can utter. You go to stand up, only for your legs to wobble before they give out beneath you.

Arms grasp yours for support, your vision becoming blurry, sounds muffled.

“J-Joel?” your say, before you go limp, world going dark.

He’d thought the pills would’ve taken more than a damn half hour to kick in.

You’d practically guzzled the whole glass.

He can’t blame you, poor thing. Nervous beyond belief, all fidgety. You never were very still, always moving, always doing something. He'd had a fantasy about taking you in your bed, in your bedroom, when he’d first glanced into it as your father had taken him to his room.

Walls a light pink, all white furniture that had surprisingly been kept in remarkable condition given the circumstances of the world. Warm pink sheets, white fluffy pillows, white curtains that didn’t do much to obscure the view of inside from the other side of the window.

You had some stuffed animals on your bed too, an old small stuffed bunny.

That’d been how he got your nickname.

His little bunny.

Your bedroom had been the embodiment of you.

He steps into your room, the soft light from your bedside table lamp illuminates the space, fairy lights around the archway of your closet, does the rest. Your vanity still has some of the things you’d used to get yourself ready scattered on top.

Walking to your bed, he lays you down, your hair splaying out around you like a halo.

You’re out cold. Don’t even move as the bed dips, with the weight of his body on it. Joel can’t stop looking at you, more specifically your tits.

He was always more of a tits man over an ass. Though he could appreciate the presence of both.

They’ve been pushing up against the low neckline of the dress all evening. Not bursting out, but definitely needing to be left out. Spreading your legs, he runs his calloused hands from the sides of your knees up your thighs, dress becoming bunched up as they slip under the fabric.

Shit, your so fucking soft everywhere. Your hands, your face, your voice, legs, body, all of you. It makes him want to squeeze you so tight he’s worried he’d break you.

Maybe he will, but certainly not yet. No. He’d have his fun with you. Break you down bit by bit till you yourself collapse with no other option but to have him build you back up.

His hands reach your panties, he feels at them, the texture seeming to be lace, as he imagines the intricate details, they toy with the band, and he pulls at it, stretching it out till it can’t anymore.

He lets it go, and it snaps back into place. Smacking your skin as it does. He glances up at your face, you don’t even flinch.

“Worked like a fuckin charm didn’t they baby?” he coos at you.

As if you’d answer.

He thinks to himself. Grinning like it’s funny. He moves his hand once again, this time up the sides of your stomach up your ribs. Feeling the goosebumps he leaves in the wake of his touch. They stop once they feel the wire of your bra, letting only his thumb feel the smooth material of it, over where your nipples would be.

Sliding them behind you, he expertly unclasps the hooks behind your back, seeing your breasts lose the support of it as they settle naturally on your chest.

“God your so fucking pretty, bunny. Such a good girl, hm? Getting all pretty for me just to catch my attention.” he doesn’t care that you won’t respond, might even prefer it.

Pulling his hands back from under your dress, he gropes your breasts, feeling them up as they fill his palms. Squeezing till he can see, your skin pale at the pressure, then releasing to see the imprints of his fingers begin to redden. His cock strains, begs, to be let out as it presses against his jeans, but he pursues.

Tracing the neckline of your dress up to the thin straps he pulls them down along with your bra, slipping them through your arms and throwing the bra aside on the bed as he pulls the dress completely off of down and off your body.

He could bust in his pants just by looking at you.

Tits bare, in nothing more than some white lace panties, with matching bows. If he had his fucking phone, he’d take so many pictures of you, save them for later use when he needs to blow one and you’re not there.

He relishes in the view. Committing every detail of you to memory. The way your chest rises and falls with each instinctual breath, the way your hair framed your peaceful angelic face. He can’t take it any longer, as he immediately falls on top of you, hands flying to your breasts as he needs them, mouth kissing and sucking lightly at the pillowy flesh.

Can’t mark you just yet baby.

“Have to wait.” He mumbles against your breast, beard a rough, striking, contrast from your softness. Just like him. His mouth connects with your hard nipple, sucking and licking at it like he’d actually get something to come out.

The sounds of him are obscene as the echo through the room. He’s sure your father could hear it from his room if he was still alive to be here.

Joel switches from one nipple to the other, basking in the warmth of your skin. This continues for a while, swirling his touch around you nubs before he’s skimming one hand down the length of your torso, until they meet the fabric of your panties again.

Not wasting any time he slips a hand in, running a finger down to your clit, rubbing lazy circles softly.

This, you do stir at. Your head falling to the side, as your legs twitch inward slightly, breathing patter changing, “feels good doesn’t it sweetheart? Yeah, it does. Pretty pussy hasn’t been touched the way it deserves has it?”

Slipping a finger through your fold he groans against your skin, “fuck your a mess. Little bitch, I haven’t even touched you yet, baby.”. Once he gets his fill from your breasts, he kisses down past the curve of your boob, onto your stomach until his face reaches your panties.

Kneeling in between your legs Joel doesn’t even think twice before he buries his face into your clothed pussy, inhaling your musky sent. You smell perfect, he’s practically itching to rip your underwear off.

He resists however, wanting this to last a little longer before he takes what he wants from you. He won’t fuck you tonight, no. He wants to hear all the noises you’ll make once he’s balls deep in you, tearing you in half as you try to accommodate him in you. Wants to feel you scratch and claw at his back from how hard he’s pounding into your tight hole.

This time when his cock twitches he listens to it, practically ripping his belt off, and pulling at the zipper on his crotch. He gets harder as the cool spring air make contact with his skin.

Leaning back on his knees he spreads your legs more, until he has a perfect view of the wet spot that’s soaked through the thin material of your underwear.

“Need to taste you first bunny.” he grumbles, and hurries to hook his fingers onto the waistband of them before sliding them down your legs, carefully placing them next to you.

Laying down now as he comes to settle between your thighs, hands feeling the skin there too.

“You don’t understand how badly I’ve wanted to touch you like this, bunny. From the moment I saw you I wanted you just like this.” He kisses up the inside of your thigh, alternating between your two legs until he places a single kiss onto your folds, nose nudging your clit.

He languidly flattens his tongue, the putter walls of your pussy opening up to let him skim your slit with it. He looks up at you for any reaction, all he gets is your eyebrows furrowing and a whimper that doesn’t quite make it out as you once again turn your head to the opposite side.

Joel smiles into your pussy, and dives in completely. He licks at your slit before he’s latched onto your clit. Swirling his round around and then flattening it again. Trying to get even deeper, he shakes his head as he presses into you.

“Fuck you taste so sweet princess.” He whispers into you, one hand going up to group your left tit while he continues to eat you out. Horrendously filthy noises filling your pretty pink bedroom as he abuses your cunt.

His other hand comes to rub the sensitive nub between your legs as he slips his tounge into you, fucking you with it. It doesn’t take long before your pussy is nice and puffy. Shades of red and pink glistening with your wetness and his saliva.

He feels you clench on his young and hums, “yeah baby? You like that? Like when daddy fucks you’re right little hole him?”

You’ve started to whimper in your drug induced sleep, hands subconsciously tightening and bunching up your pillow and sheets. Legs threatening to close around Joel’s head so much he has to use the bad on your breast to keep you open for him.

The one rubbing your clit moves down to your slit, lightly prodding at your hole, “gonna have to be a big girl and take it baby” is all the warning he gives you, before he begins to slip his finger inside.

You’re whole body twitches, he can see your stomach tighten at the intrusion, your breath is heavy now, you’re practically panting. None of that matters however, because you suck his digit in until he’s knuckle deep.

“Thaats it baby, fuck. Look at you, taking it so well sweetheart.” he begins to move his finger in and out, the mixture of wetness making it slip through with ease.

His mouth latches back onto your clit, and something in him bend with his desire for you that he bite down on it. Not too hard, but just enough to where you’re moaning out loud in your sleep. Legs kicking lightly as you squirm to try and get away. His free hand holds you in place, once again running his tounch over to soothe the pain.

It doesn’t take long before another finger is joining the first. He feels more resistance than he did with the first one, your walls a bit harder to push by, but he makes it fit. He’s pumping them into you roughly and faster now.

Fells you begin to tighten more and more the longer he goes on, “that’s right bunny, come for me. Come for daddy baby. That’s it, fuck, that’s it baby yeahh.” you mewl in response to your bodies release as you cream around Joel’s fingers. Legs instinctively clamping shut, squeezing his hand I between.

He lets you ride it out as you feverishly hump up into his hand. Slowly dragging them out, he doesn’t waste time as he sucks at them, savoring the taste of your essence, then dives back into the main source, drinking it up like it’s the sweetest nectar there is.

Once he’s got you all cleaned up, pussy stretched and looking absolutely ready to be fucked, he takes his cock in hand. Using your wetness to line himself up as he jerks himself a couple of times.

“Maybe we could just put the tip in hm baby? Would you like that? Get a taste of daddy’s cock in your pussy? Yeah, I think you’d like that you little whore.” He grunts out.

He scoots closer to you knees meeting the curve of your as, thighs prest against the back of yours as he lines himself up, “juust the tip honey. Just a little bit.” he reassures himself.

He meets resistance as his engorged, angrily red tip tries to squeeze in, “shit your so fucking tight. Won’t even let me in without having to hurt you sugar. Bet you like it like this, like it to hurt. Dirty girl.”

He hunches forward, using one arm to hold himself up so that he doesn’t crush you, applying more pressure until he pops right in, your pussy squelching.

He groans loudly you can hear it from anywhere in the house, “fuck! That’s it you little bitch, take what I fucking give you baby. Shit you feel so good.”

You moan loudly as he groans, legs once again trying to close, only to be met with his torso between them. Joel only fucks you for a small while, savoring being inside you, before he’s pulling out.

He hears you whimper at the lost of contact and chuckles, “yeah? You miss it baby? Little slut hasn’t even had the whole thing and she wants more. We’ll get there honey don’t you worry.” His cock lays on your pulsing pussy, slapping it on your wet folds.

“Shit I can feel your heart beat from here, I promise I’ll give you more soon baby. S’long as you don’t make it too hard for me.” Even asleep you look so beautiful. A thin layer of sweat sheens your body, making you shine as the light from your bedroom reflects of you.

“Blissfully fucked out already,” he laughs, “and I haven’t even fucked you yet.” He says as he takes both your legs, cock nestled between your thighs.

“How’s ’bout we finish this and go to sleep huh baby? Old man starting to smell over there in the other room. Gonna have to get rid of him once I’m done with you.”. Then he’s fucking your thighs like there is no tomorrow.

The sound of skin on skin fills the room, your bed creaking with each thrust, his balls slapping against your ass, “FUCK! I can’t wait to fuck you, can’t wait to feel your warm pussy squeeze me till I cum in ‘ya. Get you nice and full of me till your dripping.”

Your tits bounce up and down as his manic thrusts don’t stop, the sounds of your slick making his dick slid between your thighs.

It doesn’t take long for Joel to feel his own release creeping up on him, “Fuck I’m gonna come baby, gonna paint you all white and pretty. SHIT! Ohh fuckfuck FUCK! that’s right you bitch take it. Fucking-take it.” His balls tighten as he begins to come, shot after shot landing on your stomach, so much that it fills your belly button up.

Joel allows himself to collapse onto you, breath heavily and hot against your ear as he pants like a damn dog.

He stays like that with you for a little while.

“Y’did so well for me sweetheart. So good for your daddy.” he whispers into your ear, placing a kiss just under it goodbye as he lifts himself back up.

“Can’t have none of it going to waste now can we?” He asks you scooping his cum off your belly with his finger and sliding it down, pushing it into your pussy. He repeats this until he’s got most of himself in you. Smearing the rest onto your puffy putter lips.

Satisfied and sated he tucks his softened cock back into his pants, zipping himself back up. He pats your pussy, before he’s putting your panties back on, along with your dress, not caring much about the bra.

He tucks you into your bed, giving you a kiss on the forehead.

He’d wait until you were awake to give you a real kiss.

Shutting the door behind him, he goes to the front door of the house. He pulls it open and outside by the tree near the fence that surrounds your home, Tommy stands there, smoking cigarettes as he leans against the tall wood.

Once he sees Joel he makes his way over, “The hell did you get that?” Joel asks, snatching it from his brothers lips.

“Ay, now. Watch it, I got it from one of the old hags husband, had a whole drawer full of ‘em.” Tommy tries to snatch it back.

Joel keeps it out of reach, before bringing it to his lips and taking a couple puffs, then dropping it.

Tommy sighs, stepping on it for him “so, heard you having some fun with the little lady. She as good as you’d wanted her to be?” he smirks.

“Ain’t none of your business now ain’t it little brother.” Joel turns back into the house, Tommy stepping in behind him.

“Just want to know my big brother can still get it up. Y’a Old dog.” he says, chuckling.

Said older brother doesn’t answer, just keeps on walking through the house, down the hall until he reaches your fathers bedroom door.

“Y’know, it’s pretty sick how you can go on and fuck the man’s daughter while he’s rotting not even 20 feet away.” the younger miller says, noticing the small pink flowers painted on the door across the one he’s about to go into

“She in there? Mind if I take a look see?” Hinting towards your door.

“Y’help me move the old fucker outta here and maybe I’ll grace you with a peek. And I ain’t fuck her yet.” Joel opens the door.

Tommy doesn’t get a chance to ask more as the reeking stench of death and decay wafts into his face.

The younger man’s nose wrinkles at the grim smell, “well shit, the fact you can’t smell him from outside is just about any godsend you get these days.” he gets to work on wrapping the body up in the worn quilt it lay on.

Your father had been a foolish man. Gullible. It didn’t take much to have the old man take pity on Joel and his men when he’d found them. Even when the rest of your fathers men were reluctant to help.

He’d invited them into your town, gave Joel of all people a place to stay at his own home. Old man was too trusting for his own good. Now he’d paid the price.

His face hadn’t changed from when Joel had last seen him. It had been the night of Joel’s arrival, after you’d gone to sleep that the two men had talked about leading a party of men out seeing as there had been ‘another group’ spotted.

No doubt the rest of Joel’s crew. Joel had suggested they leave at dawn, before you’d wake up. Then given your father a lame ass excuse on why he couldn’t accompany them but reassured your father he would tell some of his group to go with them.

Your father hard written you the letter and placed it on the living room coffe table. It was only then that Joel struck, swinging the metal baseball bat he’d found tucked away in the closet of his own bedroom.

The grotesque sound of his skull cracking, accompanied by the splat of blood that came from the old man’s head as his body fell face first on his bed was all there was to be heard.

Surprisingly the old fucker hadn’t died, only started moving once Joel had moved his limp body to lay completely on the bed, “y’know I’d really hoped that you’d have made this easier.” as he grabbed the pillow from beside the bleeding man’s head.

He pressed it into his face, and naturally the body beneath him started to thrash and kick. His hands clawing at anything they could grab, trying to fight for the a breath of air as the weight on top of him only increased. Joel suffocated the life out of him, eventually going still.

It didn’t pain Joel to do this, he’d done worst. He will do worst if he needs to.

He’d snuck into your room that night too. Just moments after killing your father in the room right across from yours. You were sound asleep, not a clue in the world that you’d just lost everything.

He’d smiled down at you as he ran his fingers down your cheek, “little bunny, you’ll forgive me one day baby. I promise.” he’d whispered, giving you a small kiss on the corner of your lip.

Now standing here, twenty-four hours later, your father is starting to smell. Opening the window to both your and his room had only done so much. It was time to move the bastard out of the house, dump him a couple miles into the woods.

Both millers carried him out through the front door, down into an old bin, “I’ll make sure to go and drop him off at dawn.” Tommy said.

Nodding, “You do that, little brother.” Joel says. Patting the other on the shoulder, turning back towards the house.

Turning back, to you.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #joel miller the last of us #dark!joel miller

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fire-emblem-drabbles · 4 months

Text

Pairing: Gale x reader (tav)

Prompt: Soulmate AU (sharing pain)

Description: For most of your life, it was normal things; cuts and bruises, sprained ankles and such. Your love must have been some sort of spell caster, from all the magic burns and forces you felt too. But then one day... it hurt so bad. The darkness, the pain, the hunger you felt... At least, it was a burden shared.

Rating: sfw

Content Warning: minor descriptions of pain/wounds, descriptions of Gale's arcane hunger,

Notes: I wanted to write for Gale so so bad but nothing was coming to me. Until I was like "fuck it back to the basics" also these fics are such a good way to use all my screenshots. I have so so many. kinda lowkey don't like this but I've had it sitting in my drafts for so long, and just needed to finish it lol

You had thought the greatest pain you could feel in this life was that which your soulmate bore; a great, arcane hungering force that festered in the chest. Though only they bore it truly, you felt it as if it was your own pain. And you, too, felt that hunger, felt relief when it was sated and knew the pain of going without. Knew what to do when you felt it fester and want only more.

But you didn’t know what to think when you felt a sharp pain in your left eye, felt it crawl and wrench it’s way into your brain. How could you? It was something you had no explanation for (what had your soulmate been up to, then, to feel such a way?) It was only when you were abducted by the nautiloid, faced with a mind flayer and it’s tadpole, that you notice how sickeningly familiar the sensation of a worm, crawling into your left eye to make home for its self in your brain was.

So, imagine then when you met not one, not two, but six other people with tadpoles as well. You couldn’t be sure if any of them were your soulmate… but you also couldn’t rule it out. That, and you kept hearing that even more people were infected than the people you now traveled with. Realistically, finding your soulmate should probably not be at the top of your list when you did have a mind flayers tadpole… but the idea that they could be so close to you did have you excited!

But what if they were part of this strange Absolute cult? What if they had already been turned into a mind flayer (would you feel that? Would they even have a soul for your to connect to at that point?) There was a lot to worry about… Chief among them being that familiar growing hunger within your chest. But having been recently dumped off a ship, you have very little to your name to feed it…

“This locket…” You held it aloft in your fingers, soft light from the torches around your tent catching it. You had gotten it from Arabella’s mother after saving the poor girl from Kahga. You could use it’s magic to feed your soulmate’s hunger… but would the other’s notice it missing? How would you explain it’s been consumed?

“You seem to have a lot of your mind.” Gale’s voice catches you from your thoughts, causing you to snatch the locket and pocket it.

“There’s much to think about.” You hum, looking up at him. “How can I help you tonight, Gale?” You change the subject, smiling at him.

“I’ve just come to remind you to eat dinner.” He holds a bowl of something that smells far too good to be camp provisions, leaning down to hand it to you.

“You made this?” Your eyes widen as you accept the food, stomach growling in anticipation.

“Oh this is nothing,” He waves his hand dismissively. “Were we back in my tower at Waterdeep, I would show you the true extent of my culinary talent.” You take an experimental bite, smiling at the savory taste that welcomes you.

“It’s very tasty! I’m nonetheless impressed you made this with supplies from our camp packs.” You praise him, seeing the smile that lights up his face. You have to admit, it’s rather charming even if he is a little haughty. “Thank you for coming to hand this to me, I may have forgotten otherwise.”

“You’re welcome! We can’t have our leader falling behind.” He smiles, but seems like he wants to say something more before deciding otherwise. “You have a goodnight, _____.” You decide not to question it on it. Though you like to think you’ve grown close to him this past week traveling together, not enough to push boundaries quite yet.

“You too Gale!” You give him a little wave, watching as he goes back to the campfire where he must have cooked dinner. You retreat to your tent, closing off from everyone else at camp. Another, uncomfortable pang of arcane hunger hits you and with a soft groan, you put down the food.

“Fine, fine.” You groan and hold your throbbing head, pulling out the locket with the other. You study it a moment, before closing your eyes and holding it to your chest, willing that great, unknowable force within to feed on the weave it held. When the next terrifying moment it is done, and that deep ancient, hunger is sated once again. You let out your bated breath. At least for now, it is sated…

Across camp, Gale can only take a shuddering gasp as he feel’s the orb within him sated. While this hadn’t been the first time his soulmate had helped him sate the orb, this time it almost seems serendipitous that they should do so when he finds himself with nary a magic artifact (nor a tresseym to go out and hunt for one).

Once, as Mysta’s chosen, Gale had wondered what use a soulmate would do him when he was chosen by a Goddess. To be favored by Mystra, mother of the weave… It was quite an addictive feeling, admittedly. But to fall from that grace, to lose the bulk of his powers and have to face the consequences of the orb within him… only for someone who cares for him to feed that hunger, to save him hurt when they may not even know him… It’s quite bracing, and enough to bring a smile to his face. Someone out there cares, despite the pain he has caused them, and despite, for a time, thinking he could live without them.

Still, it is a burden he would rather like to take care of himself. With that in mind, Gale readies himself to tell you (and the rest of the party, though they haven’t quite earned his trust like you have) about the orb at the earliest convenience. You seemed a little troubled tonight so when the day came, he would find the time.

However, it seemed like you had much planned for the day following. Though he was there to watch you agree to raid the goblin camp, Gale hadn’t expected the strides you would make in that endeavor today alone. Already your small party had cleared out the abandoned village before the camp and now you were checking out the surrounding area.

“Excuse me, _____, if you have a moment.” Gale pops up beside you a moment as you survey the area. “I have something rather important to share, if you can spare the time.”

“You’re among friends Gale, go right ahead.” You smile at him, and notice how his face softens at that.

“Yes well,” He takes a deep breath, eyes never leaving yours. It always caught you off guard, how easy it was for him to capture your gaze. “Ever since you freed me from that stone, I’ve seen you demonstrate remarkable guile and courage.” You watch his hands move up and around, something you’ve noticed he does often when he talks. “When you defused the situation between Aradin and Zevlor, or how you saved that young girl from Kahga…” He shakes his head a little, dark eyes meeting yours once more. “In short, I’ve come to trust you.” He smiles at you, that same boyish smile that you can’t help but smile back at.

“I’m glad you said so, I feel the same way.” You see his smile grow wider a moment, before he continues on.

“The reason I go on to say this is that I’ve grown confident enough to tell you something I haven’t told another living soul. Except for my cat.” He looks troubled for a moment, watching your face for any change of emotion. You try to keep your reaction even, merely raising your eyebrows for him to continue. “...You see, I have this… condition. Very different from the parasite we share, but just as deadly.” You watch his hands move before his chest in an almost frantic motion, before falling swiftly as he looks to you.

“...Okay.” You nod, looking at him carefully. “What… kind of condition?” You half frown, seeing how strange he was being about this. Not that he wasn’t already a little queer, but in this moment Gale seemed so… tense.

“The specifics are… rather personal… but suffice to say it is a malady I’ve learned to live with-- though not without some effort.” He gives a little grimace, but continues, learning in closer to you. “What it comes down to is this; every so often, I need to get my hands on a powerful magical item and absorb the weave within.” Your eyes wide (in what you hope is a normal way) and you nod.

“So this… illness causes you to consume magic.” You repeat plainly, nodding. “While that is strange, I don’t think it will be so hard to accommodate.” You nod at him assuredly.

“You… don’t have any questions?” Gale asked, seemingly dumbfounded.

“Well of course I do. But it seems like you shared as much as you were willing to on the matter already.” You offer him a small smile and watch the relief spread on his features.

“I thank you for your trust in me. It shall not be unfounded.” He looks rather serious for a moment, before continuing. “Thankfully, I am sated for now, but its merely a matter of time before my craving returns. So I turn to you; I need you to help me find magic items to consume. It is vital, dare I say, critical.”

“Of course. I’m happy to help in whatever way I can.” You smile big for him, hoping he can’t hear the pounding of your chest.

“You have my thanks. Again, your trust in me will be rewarded in anyways I have at my disposal. I’m sure we won’t have to look far, Faerun overflows with magic treasure! As do our packs, in fact,” Your breath hitches at that. He was of course, talking about the locket you got from Arabella’s mother… the very one consumed last night by you (and by extension, your soulmate). What if he asked for it now? How could you tell everyone its gone already? But just as you go on to panic over a response, Gale continues.

“But, I know the allure magic artifacts hold, and their power. All this to say, I understand the sacrifice I ask of you. But if I may be so bold, its for a very good cause indeed.” Gale pauses a moment, and makes sure to catch your gaze once again. “I hope I can count on you.” You nod at him, which seems to please him.

With that, you continue on your way, heading further into the mountains to reach the goblin camp. You couldn’t help but be distracted though. How many people in the realm needed to consume magic for a ‘condition’? And… of those people, how many of them have also been infected by a mind flayer tadpole? You couldn’t help but wonder that-- distracting you enough that as you walk out of the destroyed village and over a bridge, you walk right into the next goblin camp.

“Look Klaw, look’s like dinner’s come to go.” The goblin sneers at it looks up at you. Your eyes widen as you take in the goblins. At least three in front of you that you see, some strange pack animal, and surely more in sniper points. You might be able to talk your way out of this…

“Remember, goblins often come in the dozens, not just a few.” Gale warns.

“Why’d you come this way?” The goblin huffs again, looking up at you with disdain. Yes, you could easily talk your way through this. You can feel the tug of a parasite in this one. Authority. But another, desperate part of you wants to see. If you or Gale got hurt in this battle, would you be able to see the wound on the other… Could he really be your soulmate?

You don’t remember quite what you said to anger the goblin so much, before you knew it battle had started. Thankfully, you had Lae’zel with you to enter the front lines and take out those pesky pack animals, while Gale and Astarion provided support from the rear. Though it wasn’t an easy battle by any means, the more goblins dead, the better in your opinion.

You tried to see if you can feel pain in any place you didn’t remember getting hit, but all of you had gotten one or two bad hits. There was even a point you had to help poor Astarion back to his feet after he had taken out the war drum that would call in reinforcements.

“How does everyone feel?” You call out. “I haven’t quite used all my healing spells yet, so if anyone needs a little pick me up…” You look around to your allies. Lae’zel seemed fine, having had a healing potion to take care of her wounds, and Astarion was looking decent after you had cast Lay Hands on him. You turn to Gale, to find him looking rather haggard, despite being relative safety (sans from a few archers, if you recall).

“If you don’t mind.” Gale calls you over, and you happily oblige, moving over to him while readying the spell.

“Where does it hurt?” You ask, raising your two hands as they glow with healing magic.

“Everywhere, really.” Gale laughs softly. “I feel like I got thrown around quite a bit that battle.” He shakes his head. “I’ll need to be more careful…” he shakes his head.

“You did fine, no need to worry.” You assure him, placing your hands just before his chest and letting the magic flow to him. He sighs in relief and smiles at you. “Don’t forget about yourself, though.” He adds.

“Oh I feel fine.” You assure him. A little better than the moments before, even. “I have potions if I really need them. I would rather save my magic for my allies, anyways.” Sure that everyone was feeling well, you continue to the goblin camp proper, trying your best to distract your self from your ever growing thoughts.

~*~

It isn’t many days after that (though its hard to tell, with all the battles, all the information, all the people you’ve met and helped) that you notice a familiar presence within. That aching, consuming hunger. Thankfully, in the days since you’ve gained plenty of magic items, any of which would more than be able to help Gale. Though this time, it had you nervous.

If you gave Gale an item, watched him consume it before your very eyes, and felt the pain melt away like a soft lullaby… what then? If he truly was your soulmate… what would that change between the two of you, if anything? Was Gale even interested in following his fate like that? It was all so worrisome… And, even if he wasn’t… Would you still have that familiar warm feeling in your chest when you caught his gaze?

Soulmate or not, you had… feelings for Gale. Ones that you couldn’t claim for the rest of the party. And despite everything, you still knew so very little about him. It seems as though your thoughts summoned him, as you look up to find Gale coming your way.

“Come to grab a snack?” You tease, seeing him approach you somewhat seriously.

“I…” He seems surprised a moment before recovering. “How could you tell? I thought I had done rather well in hiding my affliction…” He doesn’t seem embarrassed, more so surprised.

“Oh!” You couldn’t very well say it was because you had also begun to feel the ill effects of going too long without consuming magic. “You just seemed… a little strained today is all. Not that it effected you in battle in any way!” You assure him. “Just that it all took a little more out of you than it might usually…” Gale is quiet a moment, studying you. You can’t seem to meet his gaze, too busy studying the dirt between the two of you.

“I hadn’t known you to be so observant,” In the next moment, Gale is smiling softly. “You’ve read me correctly. My condition is… rather hungry, and I find that feeding it sooner rather than later leads to everyone being happier.” You nod at him, shuffling over to your travelers trunk where you seem to keep all the armor and weapons and goodies from your adventurers.

With your back to him, digging in the trunk, you speak. “If you don’t mind me asking… how does it feel?” You were looking for a specific ring you had picked up, one you were certain everyone would have no problem with parting with. “I mean… is it painful?” Fingers finding the cool metal of a ring of Color Spray, you carefully pull it from the trunk, ready to turn back to Gale for his answer.

“It’s…” He pauses a moment, taking time to consider his words carefully. “It starts off as uncomfortable, and if left unattended quickly become painful.” He frowns softly. “Though it has a number of unwelcome side effects, chief among them seem to be nausea, headache, chest pain…” You can’t help but grip your own chest as you felt a pain go through it. Yes, at this point, you were almost certain. There was just one thing left to do to prove that Gale was your soulmate…

“Um, I’m sorry if this is strange… but could I talk to you in private a moment?” You gesture to your tent right next to you and Gale seems surprised.

“Is this about…?” He stops himself as you shake your head no vigorously.

“It’s um… complicated. But fear not, I’m not going to deny you an item.” Gale seems concerned a moment at how you seemed to be uncomfortable but merely shakes his head.

“Very well.” He allows you to open the flap for him, and you follow him inside. It’s not as if he hasn’t seen the inside of your tent-- you often opened the flaps of it to let everyone know you were free to talk or do other things. But it felt much more intimate to be inside it, closed, with you. You seemed so different with your heavy armor and weapons to the side. In your camp clothing, you seemed so much smaller than the courageous paladin that led them all in battle.

And even now, as you looked upon him with rosy cheeks and worry, Gale couldn’t help but admire you. Who would have guess you would be so shy when it came down to it?

“What did you wish to ask me?” Gale chooses to speak first, seeing how you seem to be struggling just a tad with what to say.

“There… is no easy way to say this.” You admit, half frown fitted on your lips as you look to Gale. “If I am wrong this would be… one of, if not the, most embarrassing thing of my life.” You shake your head again, seeing the look Gale gives you. “But… I am almost certain of it, and would appreciate it if you would give me the chance to prove it to you as well.” You look to him with wide, pleading eyes.

“Prove what?” Gale watches you worry the ring in your hand, sees how you can barely meet his gaze and how you can’t seem to stop blushing despite nothing romantic or embarrassing happening between the two of you. “Please, tell me what has you acting so strange.” You heave a sigh, closing your eyes.

“Gale of Waterdeep… I think we’re soulmates.” It feels strange, falling from your tongue. Even stranger to see his reaction (how can stay so composed?) “Before you say anything I… can show you.” Before he can object, you bring the ring of Color Spray to your chest and let the arcane hunger within you (within him), feed. You feel the immediate relief, but not only that-- you see the look of awe on Gale’s face, see the tension leaving him.

“Well… that certainly is proof, isn’t it?” Even Gale is left astounded in the moment, looking at you with eyes anew. “I’ll admit I had my own suspsions… but you certainly took matters into your own hands, didn’t you?” He’s all smiles and familiar confidence, but you can’t find it in you to feel as steady.

“I… suppose so” You fiddle around a bit, finding his answer to be neither positive or negative. “How do you… feel about that…?” You ask softly. You had loved him for years and years, and finding out that Gale was the person you had loved and taken care of for so long made you so happy. But…

“How could I not be happy?” Gale moves a bit closer to you, taking your hand in both of his. “You’ve done so much for me… Now, and even before we met. To find out the person who took such good care of me is someone I’ve come to respect and trust so much… who wouldn’t be pleased?” He squeezes your hand.

“So you’re not… disappointed?” You add, rather quietly. Gale can’t help but soften.

“With you? Never.” He seems to think a moment, hesitating. “Still… to think that’s you’ve suffered though this like I have… it’s nearly unforgivable.” He shakes my head. “That my mistake led to you suffering as well.”

“Don’t say that!” You tug him closer with your hands, your strength giving Gale no choice but to comply. “Even if it hurts… I’m glad to be connected to you in this way. If I didn’t care, would I have supported you all this time?” At that, Gale smiles. “I… know it hasn’t been long since we’ve met. Shorter still since this revelation has come to light… but I do love you, even if you don’t feel the same.” You muster up the courage to admit this. “I’ve loved you for years and years… finding out you were the person I’ve been in love with just seemed to make sense.”

“… You really are more than I deserve.” Gale again squeezes your hand. “I’ll admit I… find myself fond of you as well. I was never one to put much faith into a soul mate…” You can’t help but deflate a little at that. Gale, noticing this, quickly continues. “But that’s changed since I was cursed-- since Mystra cast me out.” You blink at him, and he shakes his head. “Now that I know you feel the orb’s hunger as I do… you deserve to know the truth behind it.”

“Are you certain?” You frown softly as his hand leaves yours, but Gale merely gives you a serious look.

“I’ve cursed you as well as myself. This is something that effects us both.” Gale doesn’t beat around the bush. “It all starts with a king named Karsus…” Gale settles in to tell you of how he came to have the orb in his chest. Of the King, Karsus, who created his own weave in his ambition to rivil Mystra and once destroyed her. How Gale wanted to impress Mystra, and merely sought to return a piece of her weave back unto her-- that piece being the orb that was now inside his chest. Their union should have destroyed him but instead, the orb merely consumed his power. That, and his place at Mystra’s side; the goddess cast him aside for his folly and Gale found himself lost.

“I thought I had nothing left to live for. My powers lost, Mystra cast me aside… I was content to let the orb finish me off but…” He pauses, looking to you after staring off into the corners of your tent.

“...I remember. I had been sick and hurting for so long. I was desperate to get back on my feet, and came across an amulet that was supposed to boost my health. But as soon as I put it around my neck, it was gone. Consumed.” You smile softly at him.

“You gave me that first push forward. Luckily, even as a wizard locked in a tower, I had plenty of magic items to consume as well. But I also had Tara to go out and look for me. And… you.”

“You know, I was actually out to buy more items for you to consume before I got abducted by the nautiloid. I had wondered why you were going without for so long… Funny, to think, it was because you were also on the nautiloid.” You can’t help and smile wide. Gale returns your smile.

“Fate truly wanted us to meet, then.” Boldly, he chooses to cup your cheek before quickly pulling his hand away. You could feel your heartbeat pick up, see the flash of color on his cheeks.

“For better or for worse, we’re in this together Gale.” You instead reach out for him, taking his hands in yours. “I’ve only just found you and I’ve no intention of letting anything happen to us. No orb, no tadpole-- nothing.” You tell him confidently. “Come what may, let me help you.” His eyes widen as he looks at you.

“You truly are something else.” He smiles at you. “Very well then. I’ll accept your help.” You squeeze his hands.

You knew you were getting your hopes up, thinking Gale would admit to loving you just because the two of you were soulmates, because you admitted to loving him. But this… perhaps this was just as good. Knowing that he trusted you. That he had already liked you before knowing the two of you were bound by fate… At least now, by his side, you could keep him safe. It was a burden halved, a burden shared.

#gale x reader #gale x tav #bg3 x reader #bg3 gale #gale of waterdeep #soulmate Au

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vampykween · 5 months

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Okay all I can think about is toxic ex husband Simon actually trying to get you back. Like he sees another man talking to you and you smiling and laughing and he sees red and just realizes how awful he's been. He needs you and his girls back in his life. Or maybe he says he misses the kids so you let him come over, and yes he misses the kids but he also misses you. Brings flowers and stays off his phone and actually pays attention to you and your girls.

Also thinking about toxic (heavy on the toxic) ex husband simon not accepting things. Maybe he has a recruit stage a break in at your house, get you scared and running right back to him. Maybe he didn't actually let the divorce papers get filed, just let you think they did. You think he's letting you go that easily?

Or or orrr he is over to see the girls (and you) and he overhears you (is very sneakily eavesdropping) while you're on the phone with a friend talking about the divorce. You say something about think he was probably cheating on you since he was so disinterested in you. He is so disappointed in himself, just thinking like 'was I really that horrible that she thinks I did that?'

Lol I have so many scenarios bouncing around up there

anon phew omg! you’re feeding me with these ideas. hell you could take over! i adore your mind. feel free to send me any and all scenarios you have. i’m obsessed truly and welcome it all! <3

i know i’ve made toxichusband!simon an absolutely douche, but i do love the idea that he’d be sitting alone in an empty house realizing he’s wasting his life away when he could be putting in the work to get in your good graces and try to show you he’s capable of changing. whether you believe him or not hmm i don’t know, but but but i do believe you’re a hopeless romantic and secretly you’d love for time to turn back and for everything to go back to how it used to be. you’d try not to give too much of a reaction when simon shows up on your doorstep each time with little gifts for you, but internally you’re swooning and falling for him again. there was always going to be a part of you that loved simon especially when you saw him everyday in the faces in your daughters.

adding in his eavesdropping simon would definitely beat himself up over the idea that you think he’d be capable of infidelity. not that being a borderline absent husband and father was any better, but he would never do that to you! simon was more just checked out of life in general, marriage and kids always seemed out of the realm of possibility and then suddenly it was and he didn’t handle it as gracefully as he promised he would. (not to be a simon sympathizer but…)

extra toxichusband!simon would absolutely do something shady to get you to rely on him. what are you thinking trying to have a life outside of him? he’s no rookie and can lie through his teeth so easily it even fools you, and you know him inside and out. oh the divorce papers? already filed, love. although, let’s not hold our breath if the process takes a little longer than expected (he definitely shredded them in his office. what an insane idea you had thinking you could ever leave him!) he’d also be such a manipulator omg! constantly reminding you that going through with the divorce will tear the family apart and that the girls will resent you forever. he’s got two little daddy’s girls wrapped around his finger, you wouldn’t sever that precious bond, now would you?

#mic answers #toxichusband!simon #toxichusband!ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x f!reader

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notsoattractivearenti · 5 months

Text

Wanna Prove It? (Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader)

WC: 800+

Warnings/Tags: pure fluff

A/N: a short one cuz i need to get it out of my system lol. he really is gonna be a great dad one day to our children cuz christian and babies = 🫠😍💗💗💗! btw no it's not dad!pulisic (y'all gotta wait until christmas 😋). anyway hope you guys enjoy and i’d love to hear your thoughts thru ask/reply/reblog 💗 apologies for any errors! feedbacks are highly appreciated 🤍 (ps: if you want to be added in my taglist just lmk!)

—

Christian and I are having a chill night in, and we spend most of the night laying on our couch with TV on. He gets up into the kitchen to get us some ice cream while I scroll through my Instagram feed on my phone – until I stumble across a video posted by USMNT of Matt Turner and Tim Ream answering a couple of "dad" questions. Just in time, Christian walks back into the living room holding a pint of ice cream and two spoons in his hands.

“Babe, have you seen the video USMNT just posted on Instagram?”

“What video?” He replies.

I show the post to him briefly as he sits back and puts the ice cream and spoons on the table in front of us.

“Oh it’s Matt and Tim! I thought it was another VW video I did!” He laughs. “ I haven’t seen it. Let me have a look.”

“Watch it until the end, I think you’re going to love it.” I suggest as I hand my phone and grab the ice cream.

He watches the short clip and makes some little comments during. He isn’t aware at the moment but from my point of view, excitement is written clearly on his face. There’s no denying he genuinely loves his national teammates (or as he usually calls them: buddies) – he does have some wonderful bonds with most of them.

“Yeah, I can see Joe and Brenden being terrific dads.” He agrees with one of Matt’s answers on the video.

“Wh- Aww, stop it.” Christian slightly blushes when Matt stated Christian would be a great dad and Tim agreed with it. “They’re so nice for saying that.”

“I do love their kids. They’re adorable and sweet!” He excitedly adds. “Also, who doesn’t love to hold babies!?”

“People who don’t like babies, I suppose.” I spontaneously answer him with a mouth full of ice cream – even though he doesn’t ask for one.

“Well, I think they are missing out on one of the best things in the world.” He comments back and it makes me chuckle.

I want to get more reaction from him so I ask him, “Do you think they’re right? That you’re going to be a great dad?”

“Uh…” He pauses. “Do you?”

“Hey, I asked you first!” I jokingly point my finger at him. “Don’t turn it back at me.”

“I mean, I hope I will…” He shyly hesitates. “But I don’t know. I don’t want to sound so cocky...”

“I know you will.” I wink at him.

His face suddenly turns pinkish red but his eyes lighten up so quickly.

“Y/N…”

“Say what you want Chris, but you know I’m right.” I try to convince him.

“Maybe…” Though he sounds unsure, he still agrees with me. “You know, I’m glad you think that way.”

With a spoon still in my mouth, I give him a little smile and nod my head. “Mmhm, you’re most welcome.”

The conversation ends there and we go back to finishing our pint of ice cream - or so I thought.

“You wanna prove it?” He breaks the brief silence.

“Huh.” I think I know what he’s implying but I’m not quite sure. “Prove what?”

“We can make a baby right now and prove I’m capable of being a great dad.” He smirks as he gently grabs my shoulder, pulls me closer then whispers in my ear, “We don’t need to wonder no more…”

Yup. That is exactly what I thought when he said “prove it”. Now it’s my face that turns so red and I nearly choke on my ice cream when he whispered so seductively. Oh, he surely knows how to get me good – what a cheeky man my boyfriend is!

“Christian Mate Pulisic!” I playfully gasp. “You can’t be serious!”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” He laughs seeing me so visibly flushed. “I am just offering something you and I both want, sweetheart.”

“Why are you so sure I want it?”

“Well, I mean, you literally talked about always wanting to have babies on our first date, didn’t you?” He states. “You can’t deny it. I remember every word you said, Y/N.”

“And I remember I specifically said one day when I’m finally ready, Chris!” I clarify his statement before he continues. “I am totally not there yet.”

“Okay, but you do want babies right? So my offer still stands.” He moves his eyebrows up and down while giving me a cheeky grin.

“Oh…” I cover my face and shake my head. “Of course but not now, babe! Besides, if I get pregnant today, it’ll be like… A teen pregnancy!”

“You’re in your 20s, Y/N!” He cackles at my remark.

“Still! I feel like I’m way too young to have a baby. I’m still one myself!” I jokingly whine.

“My God, Y/N, you are a baby.” He says sarcastically. “I’m just messing with you, my love.”

“I know, Chris, I’m not dumb.”

“Don’t worry, no need to rush, yeah? We can definitely wait.” He kisses my forehead. “‘Cause you’re the only baby mama I want.”

—

taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @swimmingismywholelife @chilwellspulisic @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @masonsrem @landoslover

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic x fem!reader #christian pulisic x y/n #christian pulisic x you #christian pulisic fic #christian pulisic fanfic #christian pulisic imagines #christian pulisic one shot #christian pulisic fluff #footballer x reader #footballer x y/n #footballer x you #footballer fic #footballer fanfic #footballer imagines #footballer one shot #footballer fluff

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zegrasdrysdale · 6 months

Note

Hi! I wanted to ask if you could write a request for cole caufield! So him and reader are like newly public but have been dating for a couple months, but she’s getting hate on the internet bc her ex is someone who’s famous (idk who lol) but anyways she goes onto like a podcast and talks about how much better of a boyfriend cole was to her than her ex and when she gets home he’s just so in awe of her and the way she feels and speaks about him (I’m so sorry if this didn’t make sense) 😭

[ to love and to be loved ] c. caufield

paring : Cole Caufield x influencer!fem!reader

summary : tired of the hate she's been getting, (Y/N) goes on a podcast to talk about her life, her past relationship, and her new public relationship with Canadians star Cole Caufield

warning(s) : language, mentions of cheating

author’s note : my first time ever writing for cole so pls tell me if i did okay :)

༺═──────────────═༻

She didn't know what she thought would happen when she and Cole went public with their relationship a few months after they started dating. There were a few hours where all she saw was support, until her TikToker ex decided to say something about the announcement she and Cole made.

All she sees right now is hate from thousands of people after her ex's comments on his Instagram story. He called her a bitch and said she used him to gain fame and use his money to get what she wanted. He even tagged Cole in a second Instagram story to warn him about her "manipulative ways". His millions of fans agreed with him and have started to flood her feed with hate and negative messages.

She can't even imagine what Cole's comments and DMs look like.

It's been a week since that day, and she's only grown tired of seeing all the hate. She's hasn't spoken out about her ex's accusations about her despite her having more serious accusations about him and his own girlfriend.

As soon as she was invited to go on one of her friends' podcasts, she jumped at the opportunity to speak out about what's been going on. It's time to speak out, and that's the reason her friend invited her on to the podcast.

The set is comfortable. She sits on the couch next to her friend and her friend's podcast partner. A microphone sits in front of her on a stand. A table sits at her feet that holds cups of coffee for the three of them. It's a cozy set up.

"Thank you for inviting me," (Y/N) says to her friend. "I'm sorry Cole wasn't available to come on with me. He flew in this morning from his road trip and has practice today. He didn't want to risk being late to the rink."

Her friend Demi says, "It's not a problem. I understand that he has a busy schedule. Thank you for agreeing to come on."

"It's time I spoke up about this," she tells her friend. "Don't be afraid to ask the hard questions. I'll happily answer any of them."

One of the crew members tells them they're going live in less than a minute. (Y/N) throws her curls behind her shoulder and sits back to get comfortable on the couch.

The same crew member counts down from five before pointing at Demi and her podcast partner. Demi is the one that gives this episode's greeting.

"Welcome back to TikTok Stuff You Should Know," she says into her own microphone. "To my left is Payton, which is not surprising at all because she's glued to my side. Today we have a very special guest joining us. She is a very close friend of mine who has been dealing with a lot of hate recently after launching her relationship online last week. Please welcome (Y/N) (L/N) to the podcast."

Payton looks over at (Y/N) and speaks. "Welcome, (Y/N). We're very happy you're able to join us today."

"Happy to be here."

Demi smiles at her and says, "So, we're all dying to know. How is your relationship with Cole Caufield? How have the two of you been dealing with the past week?"

There it is. Starting out strong.

"Cole has been super supportive of me," she replies. "He's been doing his best in trying to distract me over the past week. I think we've both been trying to stay off social media this week and focus on making sure we're both okay. He's been playing really well recently too, which makes it very easy to distract myself from everything that's been happening on social media. I think he's been using hockey as his own distraction."

Payton nods along as (Y/N) speaks. Demi's eyes are on her. They're both listening to everything she's been saying.

That's only a fraction of what's been happening.

(Y/N) has been in tears almost every night, especially since Cole has been on a roadie for the past four days. The first three days after all hell broke loose were perfect. She laid in Cole's arms every night and woke up next to him every morning. It made the days a lot easier.

Since he left, she's been in tears on FaceTime with him. It hasn't been as easy without him near her. It actually kind of sucks. She didn't even get to see him before she left.

"What made you want to come out about your seemingly new relationship with him?" Payton asks. "Did you think that Ethan would say something about it when you and Cole posted about it?"

She shakes her head. "I always thought Ethan was a really nice guy," she explains. "I certainly didn't expect this out of him. Especially after everything he did throughout our relationship. Cole and I really love each other and we both got tired of hiding that from the public. It was his idea to make out "

"That's an interesting comment," Demi slowly says like she doesn't know what her ex did. "What did Ethan do during your relationship?"

(Y/N) bites her bottom lip for a second. "He cheated on me," she tells the two of them. "All the time at the end of our relationship. Actually, his new girlfriend is just one of the girls he fucked while we were in a relationship. He would have a new girl every weekend and I would look the other way because I loved him."

"It wasn't because you didn't want to lose your constant source of followers and money?" Payton asks. "I'm not taking a shot, by the way. He accused you of using him for fame and money so I just want you to be able to clear the air."

"No, I understand," she replies after being caught off guard by the way the question was worded. "Um, no. I never once used him for followers or money. I made my own money by posting my own content across social media. I stayed with him because I wanted to believe he was a better person and that he could change. I truly loved him and I wanted a future with him. After nearly three months of this, I couldn't do it anymore and I ended things with him."

She notes that Payton looks genuinely surprised by her words. Demi looks annoyed because she and (Y/N) are actually very close friends so she was one of the first people that she told what was going on. She was one of the people that told (Y/N) to end the relationship when Ethan started cheating on her.

"That's crazy," Payton drawls. "Holy shit." She looks over at Demi. "Did you know about all of this?"

"(Y/N) is one of the most genuine people I have ever known," Demi says. "I hated seeing her in that relationship at the end, and I hate that she's being accused of using someone for followers and money. There was a reason she rarely ever posted Ethan on any of her social media. She didn't want to constantly post him because she was afraid to be labeled as a user. She loves creating content and videos. She's so much happier now."

A small smile forms on her lips as she thinks about Cole. She thinks about how he actually loves her and isn't afraid to show it.

"I am so much happier now," she echoes. "I mean, Cole is the best thing that has ever happened to me. He was so patient with me at the beginning of our relationship because I was still healing from my last relationship. He spent so long trying to show me that it's okay to love and be loved by someone that I gave my heart to him. I trust him with my everything, which is not something I would've said this time last year."

Demi smiles at her and Payton mirrors it. "That's so good to hear," Payton says. "Sounds like you caught a good one, (Y/N)."

"I absolutely did," she replies with a smile on her own face. "He is the best boyfriend. I've been so emotional this past week and he has made sure to be there for me the entire time. He checked in on me while he was on the road for the past few games. I am so in love with him, and he helped me believe in love again. I am so grateful for him."

One of the crew members tells them to begin wrapping up. Payton takes over. "Well, thank you for talking with us, (Y/N)," she says. "Where can we find you and Cole?"

"You can find Cole on the ice tomorrow night at seven when he and the Canadians take on the Calgary Flames," she says. "You can find him on social media at colecaufield. You can find me on social media as well at yourusername. Or you can find me somewhere in the stands at Cole's home hockey games."

༺═──────────────═༻

It feels like an eternity since she's been home when she walks into her apartment in downtown Montreal. She shuts the door behind her with a sigh and leans against it.

When she throws her keys in the bowl by the door, she sees Cole's car keys. "Coley?" she calls. "Are you here?"

She walks into the living room to see Cole sitting on the couch. He looks back at her and smiles. "You are freaking amazing, baby," he tells her. "I listened to the podcast on the way home and holy shit. I have never heard anyone talk about me the way you do. I swear I fall in love with you more every single day."

"You listened?" she asks.

Cole stands up with a nod. "To the whole thing," he replies. "I helped you believe in love again?"

"Yeah," (Y/N) breathes out. "You did. You showed me that it's okay to love someone without being afraid they're going to hurt you. I thought that for a long time, Cole. You helped me realize that it's okay to love someone again."

Without realizing it, tears begin to roll down her cheeks. She tries to wipe them away quickly but Cole notices them before she can wipe them away. He walks around the couch to get to her and he envelopes him in a hug. "I'm so proud of you, baby," he whispers in her ear.

She lets out a quiet sob and buries her face in his chest. "I'm so grateful for you," she replies.

"You're so brave for talking about the whole situation," Cole tells her. "I can't believe how well you're handling it. I'm in awe, (Y/N). I wish I had your strength. I wish I could've been there to witness the whole podcast."

"I'm only brave because you're here," she admits as she pulls her face out of his chest. Cole moves his hands to her jaw and his thumbs wipe away more tears that escaped. "I don't know where I'd be if you weren't here. I don't know if I'd even be here if you weren't, Cole."

Cole presses a kiss to her forehead and mumbles, "I love you. More than you'll ever know. You're so strong."

She closes her eyes and whispers, "I love you too."

(Y/N) isn't afraid to say those three words anymore. Not like she was last year. Cole has showed her that she doesn't need to be afraid anymore.

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

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#hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey oneshot #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl oneshot #cole caufield #cole caufield x reader #cole caufield fluff #zegrasdrysdale request

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mangekyuou · 2 months

Note

Straw Hats x Fem reader platonic! This just popped into my head after watching ATLA! What if S/O, who’s mute, owned a pet messenger bird? No, scratch that, a pet messenger hawk? Sharp-looking, intelligent, and fast, he’s her pet companion that she takes care of sweetly and kindly. He can deliver messages to anyone around the world! I’m surprised that One Piece didn’t have a pet parrot, besides Karoo. HCs?

★ WITH A MUTE CREWMATE WHO HAS A PET MESSENGER HAWK! headcanons ★

── featuring. the strawhats.

── cw. gn!reader. no pronouns used. platonic. mentions of your hawk fighting zoro and sanji lol. not proofread.

── notepad. this has been sitting in my inbox SO LONG. IM SO SORRY. i really hope this reaches the og anon.

accidentally crossing paths with the new rag-tag group of hotshot pirates that were becoming a thorn in the side of the marines was unexpected. becoming a trusted member almost overnight was even more so

you are welcomed with open arms by your new family. well, you and your vigilant and protective hawk that was always perched on your shoulder, ready to snap at the hands of your new and still unfamiliar crewmates if they got to get too close to you

luffy, friendly and touchy as he can be, seems to be your hawk's main victim of the pecking. he never learns

outside of steering clear away from your violent friend with wings, the straw hats do everything in their power to ensure you are comfortable. never will you ever feel left out with them

they make sure to always include you in conversations, even if you don't want to contribute to them

they learn other ways to communicate with you, whether it is handing you a pen and a pad to write on, or starting to learn sign language. whatever makes you the most comfortable

your crewmates have an unintentional habit of checking for you the moment you are no longer in their line of sight

nami is the worst about it. she can't even count the number of times she almost had a heart attack thinking you were gone because she didn't see you for more than five seconds, before smothering you in big sister hugs and scolding you to never do it again

franky is the second worst about it. the one time the two of you went on a mission to find supplies in a village, he got distracted and kept walking, not noticing that you stopped a while ago. when he turned around and you were nowhere to be found, he was losing it. he called for you all over the village before falling to his knees in despair and crying a river before you returned having already found the supplies. he swore if he wasn't already crying he would have cried tears of joy when he saw you again

the straw hats find your pet hawk and the bond that the two of you share is very cool. to demonstrate their intelligence, you write a letter to your family back home and send your hawk on its way. when the bird returns a day later with another letter when its journey should have taken them weeks, the straw hats are in amazement

every now and then they ask your permission to send letters to their loved ones, even though you've told them several times that they don't need permission

it was just getting your hawk to like them is a whole other thing

your hawk absolutely loves chopper and robin. when they are not near you, they are perched on the top of chopper's hat, watching the reindeer do his tasks, while feeding them snacks in between.

while with robin, your hawk is comfortable enough to snuggle into her lap and fall asleep as they do with you while she reads on the deck of the sunny. you're starting to think they love her more than they love you

but you need more than two hands to count the number of times your hawk has left a few of your crewmates full of scratches due to being irritated by them, mostly zoro and sanji because of their "stupid bird" comments

well what can you do, the bird has a mind of its own

MANGEKYOU 2024 ── do not copy, repost, or translate my works onto this platform or any other !

#☆ — MY LOVE MINE ALL MINE.#one piece #the strawhats #the straw hats #strawhats #strawhat pirates #strawhats x reader #straw hats x reader #one piece oneshots #one piece scenarios #one piece imagines #one piece headcanons

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justash02 · 1 year

Text

Womanizer; 07

A/n; lemme know if you have feedback! It’s always welcome! So are Requests! Text me! I’m nice:> THIS IS BEN, CLAIR AND ADAM BTW^^

Plot; Everyone who knew who Tom Kaulitz was knew that he was girl crazy, he's very well known for having girls around him all the time.

Pairing; Tom Kaulitz x fem reader.

Previous chapter -> next chapter.

Master list

Taglist<3

Ps; I was so high while writing this hope it’s good at least lol

*^*^*

The night went on pretty smoothly, Bill stuck by Clair and my side for the night as did the rest of the boys.

Tom on the other hand was nowhere to be found, at one point I asked if he even came along and Bill thinks he might have just gone home.

Adam and Ben were also nowhere to be found but I really couldn't care less.

"Yeah do you remember when Tom was asked to be in the shot with Y/n and Adam just complete lost his shit?" Clair said laughing drunkenly hitting Gustavs arm.

"Babe he wasn't there." I laughed as she corrected herself by turned to the black haired boy.

"Yup, 'Can't believe that little shits gonna be with my Y/n!'." Bill mimicked, "Can't believe he gets to hit it before I do!" Clair said in the same tone.

I couldn't help but feel the alcohol hit as I started laughing uncontrollably, "No way he said that." I blurred out before throwing another shot back.

"Very close to it tho, homie wants to hit it." I couldn't help but roll my eyes, "If he has feelings for me he can come to me and stop being such a bitch about it." I said.

"Who has feelings for you?" I heard a familiar voice say, my head shot to the side to see the boy that I was kissing so nicely a few weeks ago. Fuck he was looking so good.

"Hey Tom, we thought you left." Georg said as Tom plopped down on the couch. He put his hand over his crotch and leaned back into the couch. I couldn't help but let my eyes flicker over to the placement as I felt my thighs heat up.

"Nah, was getting sucked by some girl." He said carelessly, "Bitch kept biting my dick though." He said chuckling. Georg shook his head but still gave him a fist bump to feed Toms ego.

"Probably deserved it." I said boldly, Clair looked over at me with slightly widened eyes as she let out a giggle.

Tom looked over at me, he leaned closer and placed his hand on my thigh, he gently rubbed the skin before leaning closer to my ear, whispered; "I was imagining it was you"

Current state?; deceased.

Before I could say anything someone familiar approached the table, "Yo!" Ben yelled loudly over the music as he sat on the couch next to Georg.

"Where's Adam?" Clair asked taking a slip from her drink, I didn't fail to notice that Tom's hand was still on my thigh but now it didn't feel... sexual.

It feel more as a comfort.

"He said he was gonna go home with some girl." Ben said taking a slip from Clair's drink without even asking making Clair roll her eyes before snatching it back.

"Oh? Dry dick getting some pussy?" Tom said surprised making me hit his arm with my free hand, "What?" He asking with a smirk.

I just shook my head, laughing a bit. “Can we dip? I’m so tired.” Clair complained leaning against Bens shoulder. I nodded went to stand up, “Wait we can’t go.” Ben said quickly stopping us in our tracks.

“Adam has the car.” Tom groaned loudly behind us, “Such a dumbass that dude.”

“Can’t we call him?” Clair asked blurring out from the alcohol she has consumed till this point. “Nah we’ll be traumatized for life. I don’t wanna see our leader fucking some girl.” Ben said shaken his head violently.

“We can bring you guys home.” Tom suggested standing next to his twin now, “Yeah but Y/n and Adam share a room.” Clair pointed out.

“Why don’t you guys come to our house?” I looked over my two band members looking for their input, “I’m fine with it.” Ben said smiling at the others.

“Never would I have thought I would have a sleepover with Tokio Hotel.” I said chuckling grabbing my bag from the couch, “Lucky you.” Tom said winking at me.

I laughed waiting for the rest to grab their stuff and walked over to the cars Tokio Hotel bought with them.

And indeed Adam did take our car, “Why did you even give him your keys, Ben?” Ben shrugged his shoulders, “Like Tom said, his dry dick needs some pussy.” Tom give him a “bro” hug.

“I like this dude, he gets me.” I couldn’t help but grab onto Clair for support, “I think you drank too much babe.” She softly spoke, gently pushing some hair out of my face.

“You two look cute together.” I heard Bill say, “Do you go both ways Y/n?” I heard Georg ask me curiously as he opened the car door for us, “As long I fall in love with them, gender doesn’t matter anymore to.”

He nodded and went over to grab me from Clair but Tom quickly pushed him away from me, Tom’s hand quickly went over to my waist and slowly guided me in the car.

“Do you have some blankets in here tommy?” I asked wrapping my arms around myself trying to keep myself warm. He shook his head, he seemed to think for a second before throwing his jacket off and laid it over my shoulders.

“Is that better?” He asked grabbing the seatbelt in his hand, I nodded before grabbing the seatbelt from him, “I luckily can still do that.” He nodded, waiting for me to be done. As soon as I was he nodded his head once again before smiling at me. He walked over to the drivers side.

“We’ll be there in a few minutes.” Georg said as Tom and bill started driving in the other car.

And Georg wasn’t joking when he said we would be there soon, blame it on my drunken state but I definitely didn’t notice sitting in that car for more then a minute.

Bill and Tom both parked in their garage and helped us out, I stopped in my track making Tom look at me confused.

“Feels like we should at least tell him where we are…” Tom tilted his head before holding out his hand for my phone.

“Lemme text him.” Too tired to disagree with the boy, I handed my phone over to him and boldly put my arms around his waist making him smirk a bit, he wrapped his arm around my shoulders before tapping around on my phone.

After a few seconds the boy handed me my phone back to let me read what he said;

“Adam, we are at Tom’s if you need us.” I send send not really caring and looked up at Tom making him grin back a bit.

“Want to sleep in my bed?”

“Are you going to be in it?”

*^*^*

Taglist; @oh-kurva @ajaxisbae @mycherry-melody @erensslut @ladyofladies @just-a-gay-loser420 @woodandwaxwings @hazashiovo @jay14344

(If I didn’t tag you I couldn’t find you’re tag!)

#cute imagines #x reader #imagines #tom haulitz x reader #tom kaulitz x reader #bill haulitz #bill kaulitz x reader #tokio hotel #tokio hotel x reader #story #womanizer

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bwabys-scenarios · 10 months

Note

I feel like upon first meeting, Kurapika might not be as open, maybe even standoffish. But after reader gets through that shell, he doesn’t even realize how starved he is of affection. I feel like HE doesn’t even know he’s crushing until someone else points it out

The beginning, AKA how killua and Kurapika became frenemies in regards to YOU.

warning: none other than this isn’t proofread and Kurapika is horny for reader, but that isn’t anything new lol

You two meet during the Hunter exam. You join the group around the same time Killua does.

At first, Kurapika treats you the same as he would any of his other comrades. You’re sweet, and he likes that, but he wouldn’t consider you as anything other than an acquaintance.

Through the exam, you prove yourself to be reliable and kind, feeding the group and using your skills to help keep everyone together and on task.

His feelings change for you during the final phase of the exam. Kurapika doesn’t realize why at first, but seeing you fight against someone so much stronger than you makes him so fucking MAD. You get pretty beat up and lose your first match, but power through and win the next one!

He’s proud, but he’s also extremely upset. So much so that he avoids you. He doesn’t WANT to feel these things for anyone. He wants to remain distant from you, from Gon too, but when you follow them to the Zoldyck mansion to get Gon back, it’s a hard to ignore you.

You train with them, even though you’re exhausted and badly injured. You push through, helping them save Killua before finally going home, giving them all your number and making sure they know your home is always welcome to them.

——————

It isn’t until Kurapika is in town and in need of somewhere to stay that he thinks of you again. He tried so hard to push you out of his mind that he groans. If he didn’t want to sleep outside tonight, he’d have to take you up on your offer.

You answer the call with surprise and excitement. “Kurapika, is that you? I’m so happy you called!”

Something in his chest flutters at your words. “… sorry that this is the reason I’ve called you, but do you remember saying we could stay with you if we needed to?”

“Hmm? Oh yeah, you want to take me up on that offer, hun?”

Oh dear, his face is turning red from the petname.

“Erm… yes. I’ll be staying in town for a week. I can get a hotel later I j-“

“Oh nonsense, I have a few free rooms. You can stay as long as you need!”

He is silent for a moment. This was his first time talking to you in nearly two years, and yet you were happily saying he could stay in your house. “… alright, thank you.”

When he shows up, you pull him into a hug. His arms shoot out around your sides, hovering. Kurapika isn’t able to do anything other than stutter out a ‘h-h-hello’.

“Are you hungry? I just made lunch, so you should probably hurry and get some before Gon and Killua eat it all.”

He blinks down at you. “Gon and Killua are here?”

You nod. “Oh yeah, they come here at least a few times a month and eat me out of house and home. But how can I say no when two hungry kids are on my doorstep covered in dirt? They say don’t feed stray dogs because they won’t leave you alone, but I never believed in that. If I have the food to feed someone hungry, then I will.”

Kurapika takes in your words, nodding.

You lead him into the kitchen where Killua and Gon were munching on fried chicken and fruit, both staring open jawed when you led Kurapika in by the hand.

He kind of just… hovers in the living room. He’s just standing still, glancing between you and the two boys as you fix him a plate of food.

He takes the plate and eats quietly before asking which room is his. After that, he walks in and gets unpacked.

“Why’s Kurapika here?” Gon asks, reaching into fridge to grab a soda. Killua is quiet, snacking on a plate of cookies you placed in front of them earlier.

“I’m not sure, he just needed a place to stay.” You answer.

Killua narrows his eyes. He hadn’t exactly LOVED the way Kurapika had pretty much ghosted you after you helped save him from the Zoldyck manor. He’d met up with them in York New, but refused to see you. It made him a bit suspicious he might just be using your kindness to have a free place to stay.

“Weird. He hasn’t talked to you in two years, right?”

Gon raises an eyebrow at his friend. “To be fair he only met up with us once in York New.”

“I just find it weird he only contacted you when he needed something.”

You huff and flick his forehead. “That’s the whole reason I gave you all my number. If Kurapika just wants somewhere to stay and then never talks to me again, that’s okay. I’m not going to force my friendship on him.”

Unbeknownst to you three, Kurapika was leaned against the door listening to your conversation. Killua’s words drove a stake through his heart. He felt like such a douchebag for ghosting you, and even worse for only contacting you when needing something. Killua was right, but…

You didn’t seem to mind. That’s what made him so hesitant to be around you, you were way too nice. If he allowed himself to be softened by your kindness, he might just get attached.

He couldn’t let that happen.

—————

Kurapika followed you to town as you go grocery shopping. He could at least accompany you and help carry your bags home, considering you’ve been feeding and housing him for the past three days.

You’re a woman, a relatively defenseless one at that. Although you know nen, it’s more of a support type than defense or attack. You heal people, not fight them.

As the two of you stroll through town, he can’t help but watch as your hips sway, your pretty legs bare. Before, seeing a woman with bare legs wasn’t something that would fluster him at all.

But with you… he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. And because of his eyes on your legs, when a breeze passed by and lifted up your skirt, he caught a sight of what you were wearing underneath.

White panties. That’s all he saw, a plain part of white cotton panties. When he’d passed by the women’s section in clothing departments, he’d seen the exact same pair in a pack of 5. No biggie, it’s just a pair of panties.

But the sight of it… awoke something inside him.

He paused, mouth agape and palms sweaty as his face turned red. Kurapika had never seen a LIVE women’s underwear before. Sure he’d seen the occasional porn or billboard of a woman in her underwear, but you were his friend. A person right in front of him.

“Kurapika? Is something wrong?”

You look back at him, your face innocent and sweet. You had no reason to suspect your grocery shopping companion was having his sexual awakening right then and there over your panties.

“I… it’s nothing. Let’s get the shopping done.”

Kurapika is a little bit less standoffish, seemingly observing you. It’s a little unnerving, but he’s nice enough to carry your bags and help you choose between different items, so you ignore it.

When you get home, he talks with you.

“What is your favorite color?”

“Hmm? (Color), why?”

“Curious. What music do you like to listen to?”

The questions go on for a while until you leave to shower, throwing your hoodie off to reveal a crop top underneath.

He’s staring, and it’s way too obvious. It’s just a crop top, nothing special. You even wore one the last time you saw him, so why was he only reacting like this now?

——————

Gon and Killua watch Kurapika with frowns on their faces. He’d been acting more aloof than usual, only perking up when you walked in the room. Kurapika seemed to follow you around like a lost puppy, asking you questions and watching over you.

Killua did not like it one bit.

“What’s up with you?”

Him and Kurapika were at a bakery, picking up and order for you. It was a batch of cupcakes for a small get together you were having. Killua’s sister and Leorio would be coming, so you’d be busy making dinner to work on cupcakes.

“What do you mean?”

Kurapika thanked the cash register and handed over the money you had given him.

“I mean what’s your deal with (Name)? You keep following her around like a creep.”

Kurapika bristled at the young boys words. “Creep? I’m just observing her. She’s… interesting.”

Killua raised an eyebrow. “Interesting how?”

Kurapika scoffed. “What are you, her dad? She’s just interesting. I’ve never met someone that made me… feel the way she does. She’s strange.”

Killua’s frown deepened at his words, but he didn’t say anything else.

When the two arrived home, you took the cupcakes and gave them both a quick hug. “Aww, thank you for running that little errand for me, my sweet boys!”

Killua, who was already used to your affection, just smiled and hurried to find Gon so they could go pick Alluka up.

But Kurapika was frozen to the spot. Again, his palms were sweaty and his face red.

He’d gotten a whiff of her scent, and it was enough to make him dizzy. She smelled sweet, like flowers or some kind of fruit, along with whatever she was cooking.

It made him think of what a wife would smell like when you arrived home from a long day of work. You’d greet him with a kiss and hug, telling him about your day as he joined you in the kitchen to spend some time baking with you.

Wait, why were you the wife and he the husband in that scenario? It felt as natural as breathing to imagine you in an apron, carrying a baby on your hip as you welcomed him home.

His heart thumped against his chest painfully. The sight of you working away on some potato dish was awfully domestic.

Deep in Kurapika’s heart, he wanted nothing more than a family to come home to. He wanted that domestic, normal life where he didn’t have to worry about avenging his clan and killing the Phantom Troupe.

A future where he could lay his head on your chest at night, listening to your heartbeat to confirm in his paranoid mind that you were there and alive, and you loved him.

He shook the thought from his head, taking a seat at the counter and watching you cook.

Kurapika didn’t understand you, not even a little. Something about the mystery was alluring to him. He wanted to soak up everything you had to say.

“(Name)?”

You look up from the stove. “Yes, sweetheart?”

He has to take a moment to recover from the pet name, glad your attention had returned to the pit you’d been stirring.

“Are you… have you ever thought about what you wanted… in the future?”

She blinked, glancing back at him. “What do you mean?”

He frowned in thought before replying. “Like… getting married. And having children.”

“Mmm, i want to get married one day, but I’m afraid I’ve never been exactly… sought after. And for kids…”

You glance back at Gon and Killua running out the door. “Hey, don’t forget your jackets!”

The two run back in and grab their jackets, thanking you for reminding them on the way out.

“I feel like I already have them. Gon and Killua basically live here.”

Kurapika didn’t think his strange infatuation could increase anymore. “Really? That’s… interesting.”

“What about you?”

Kurapika glanced up at you as you stood right in front of him, leaning down slightly to meet his eyes.

“I… I want a big family one day. But I fear I may not… live that long to have one.”

You tilt your head and lean back. “Why do you say that?”

“… I’ve chosen a dangerous path. One of sufferings and hardship. It may kill me one day.”

You’re silent for a moment, before you cup his cheek and look him in the eye.

“Please don’t throw your life away. I won’t tell you what to do with your life, but just know that you are important to me. If you can’t live for yourself, try and remember all the people who have loved you in the past, present, and who will love you in the future. You’re a sweet man, Kurapika. Too sweet to die so young.”

You say softly, your eyes never leaving his. When you finish, you pull him into a hug.

Even before you’d finished, Kurapika had begun crying. How could you say that you cared for him so easily? When he thought of all the people that had cared for him, it would be hard to risk his life to avenge his people.

Part of him wanted to be angry at you. How dare you remind him of the people he lost? His chest ached at the thought of his old friend seeing him now. Would he be angry that he was so careless with his life?

But the other part of him leaned into your hug, his tears soaking into your shoulder. You rubbed circles into his back as soothingly as possible, placing a kiss on the top of his head.

Kurapika needed to pull away. He shouldn’t indulge in this weakness of his, in you. But he couldn’t. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you even closer, letting himself sob like a child.

He’s never really been able to grieve his clan, constantly being on the lookout for the Spiders and unable to truly relax due to his scarlet eyes.

But now, he cried so hard that snot mixed in with his tears. You just ran your fingers through his hair, rocking him gently as he sobbed.

He was beginning to understand why his friends seemed so drawn to, although he was pulled towards you in less… platonic ways.

“Kurapika, we can move to my room, the guests will be h-“

He shook his head and looked up, his eyes red in two ways. His scarlet eyes shone up at you as he smiled.

“No, i… I think I’m okay now. Sorry for just…”

He gestured to the mess he made on your shirt. “This.”

You waved your hand dismissively. “Don’t mention it. It’s not the first time someone’s cried on me.”

You grabbed a wet paper towel and cleaned off his face, cupping his cheek when done.

“There, all better. I’m going to change, you’ll watch dinner for me, yeah?”

He nodded, watching her go with a sigh. Kurapika felt weirdly uncomfortable with the lack of your presence, awkwardly hovering around your room.

When you leave, you’re wearing a knee length long sleeve dress. It’s simple, but cute. The thing that Kurapika notices first however, is the dip that exposes some of your cleavage, his eyes going from your face, to your tits, to your face again.

He hopes you didn’t catch him checking you out, he truly didn’t mean to. Your chest was just in perfect view and he was having trouble controlling himself for some reason.

“Killua just called and say they’ll be here in five minutes. Let’s get everything ready!”

He helps you set out plates and mix up a batch of lemonade, finding little ways to brush his hand against yours. Every time it happened he’d blush and apologized, but you didn’t mind!

The group arrived just as dinner was finished. Alluka walked in the door, looked around, then gasped when she saw you.

“Momma!”

She ran forward and jumped into your arms. You twirled her around and laughed, the girl clinging to you like a koala.

“Aww, miss me?”

She nodded, Killua chuckling. Alluka had to be attached to you for at least five minutes before Killua would be able to pull her off, so you sat down and chatted with her until you were released.

Kurapika watched this with growing interest. You were great with kids, each of them holding you in high regards. “What’s for dinner? I’m starving!”

Leorio arrived 15 minutes late, panting as he walked in. “S… sorry for… being late… had to… grab these…”

He placed a bouquet of flowers into your arms, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “Thanks lending me your old textbooks, the notes you took helped me ace my test.”

You look up at him in shock, holding the flowers to your chest. “You’re so sweet, Leorio. Thank you for the flowers!”

Something stirs in Kurapika’s chest, something he isn’t able to place. The way Leorio watches your ass as you go to grab a vase to put the flowers in makes him frown. He elbows the man in the stomach, grumbling something about being a pervert.

But Kurapika had been looking too.

Everyone gathered at the table, Alluka on one side of you and Killua on the other. Kurapika grumbled again as he took the chair in front of you. Why was he so upset over not getting to sit next to you?

Kurapika watched you throughout dinner. The way you ate, the way you wiped food from Allukas, your cute laugh when Killua made a joke. He absorbed everything about you, trying to understand what he felt for you.

Did he also see you as a mother figure, like the children did? Maybe a little, but that wasn’t quite it. He enjoyed your affection and sweet words, but there was something else bubbling beneath the surface.

Something… not platonic. Not friendly.

Sexual.

You were pretty, that was a known fact. He had known many pretty women, but you… you were different. You weren’t just pretty, you were… alluring. Something he wanted, desperately.

And he couldn’t understand why. Kurapika hated when he couldn’t understand things, it made him feel stupid.

“Kurapika, do you like your dinner?”

He was stirred from his thoughts by you, leaning forward a little bit and smiling at him.

“Oh, yes. It’s… delicious.”

He took another bite of his food for emphasis. It wasn’t a lie, the food was delectable, but he hadn’t been able to enjoy it due to being… distracted.

“Alright, everyone done? Time for cupcakes!!”

Killua and Gon carried the box in and set it on the table.

When they opened it, Kurapika was surprised. Instead of being cupcakes like he had been told, it was a vanilla cake with strawberry icing.

Written across the cake in white frosting were the words…

“Happy birthday Kurapika!!”

The entire group gathered around him, smiling and laughing. While he’d been reading the cake, they’d thrown on party hats.

Kurapika flinched when felt you put a hat on him, your chest squished against his back.

“This… is for me?”

KIllua watches him, his arms folded against his chest. “It was (Name)’s idea. She found out your birthday was last week and had to celebrate it.”

Kurapika couldn’t understand why. He hadn’t done anything for his birthday just a week prior. Kurapika had severe survivals guilt, and struggled to see why he should.

You leaned forward, your hair tickling his cheek as you placed some candles on his cake. You light them and pull back, putting your hands on his shoulders as you all sing happy birthday to him.

“Okay, now blow out the candles!”

He does, his eyes closing as he thought of what to wish for.

‘I want… I want to be closer to (Name).’

He was surprised by his own thought.

——————

It was later in the night, the kids asleep in their respective rooms leaving the adults to chat. (Name) was tucking Killua into bed, the two other adults sitting in an awkward silence.

“You uh… been doing alright, Kurapika?”

Kurapika glanced at Leorio from his seat on the couch and nods in response.

“You look a little… rough.”

He wasn’t exactly wrong. His eyes were still a bit puffy from crying and his hair was ruffled, with dead ends.

Kurapika struggled to take care of himself besides the bare necessities to continue living. As long as he was able to keep moving, that was enough.

But now he pulled a strand of his hair toward and stared at it. His hair had grown out to nearly touching his shoulders, able to be put up in a ponytail if he needed.

He wondered if you liked his hair longer. It may be a bit rough and tangled, but in his heart he knew you wouldn’t mind.

You stepped out of Killua’s room, closing the door behind you slowly as to not make any noise. Once far enough away, you grin at the two.

“He likes being tucked in. It’s cute really.”

You plop down on the couch next to Kurapika and pulled a pillow into your lap to hug. “So, Kurapika, are you having fun?”

It was hard to concentrate on your question whne you were so close to him, but he managed to asnwer.

“It’s the best birthday I’ve had in a while.”

You give that pretty smile and squeeze his shoulder. “If you let me, I can make sure all of your birthdays will be fun.”

He blinks, taking a moment to process her words. “Wh-what do you mean by that?”

His cheeks turn pink, getting a little excited.

“I mean I want to be your friend, Kurapika.”

He’s unable to speak. This kind girl, who is sitting next to him smelling so sweet, wants to be HIS friend.

“You can think about it if you need to. I won’t make you-“

“I…”

He was unable to look her in the eye, his hands gripping the fabric of his pants.

“I want to be your friend, too.”

You are quiet for a moment before you lean against his shoulder and laugh.

“I’m really glad. Thank you for being my friend.”

Unbeknownst to the three adults, Killua was listening from behind his door, an eyebrow raised.

‘Does he…’

——————

Although Kurapika has said he was only staying for a week, it slowly turned into two weeks, to three, and then a month.

He would leave to go on missions or find information, but would always come back, looking around for you.

“Is (Name) home?”

Kurapika set his shoes by the door as he walked in. It was just a question for appearances, he couldn’t sense her aura so he knew she wasn’t there.

“No, she’s on a job right now.” Killua replied, flipping through a comic book and sipping on a glass of orange juice.

“A job? Like as a Hunter?”

“Duh.”

Kurapika sighed as he leaned against the wall, glancing from Killua to the boxes of chocolate robots strewn across the floor.

“Did she say when she would be back?”

Killua closed his comic book and looked at him annoyed. “Why do you need to know?”

Kurapika raised an eyebrow. “Do I need a reason? I’m just curious.”

Killua rolled his eyes. “You mean you miss her.”

“What?!”

Kurapika’s face turned red, the white haired boy huffing. “You miss her. It’s way too obvious she’s the only reason you’ve stayed in town so long.”

Kurapika scowls and sits down, tapping his foot against the ground. “That’s not true. I stay here because it’s safe and convenient.”

“Keep telling yourself that, maybe it’ll come true.”

Killua stand up and walks to the door, opening it as you raise up your keys to unlock it.

“Oh, thank you Killua!”

You pocket your keys and pat his head before noticing Kurapika.

“Oh, you’re back!”

You rush forward and pull him into a hug, kissing the top of his head. “I missed you! How did you m-“

Kurapika stood up and promptly rushed out the front door, his face a dark shade of red.

“I-Ill be back in a minute. Forgot to- forgot something.”

As soon as he’s far enough away, Kurapika holds a hand to his head, panting. The sensation of your lips on him lingered, making his heart flutter.

Why did he feel like this?

After cooling off, he walks into a random bakery and picks up some cookies.

“Hey, I’m back. Forgot to pick these up.”

You look up from brushing out Killua’s hair and give him a smile. “Oh, cookies, how sweet of you! I’ll set these out!”

You look up and grab a platter and start to place them on it. Killua glanced back at Kurapika before standing up and pulling the man back outside.

“What do you-“

“What’s your issue with (Name)?”

Kurapika blinks down at the boy. “I don’t understand-“

“Don’t play dumb, yes you do. (Name) isn’t stupid, she’s noticed your strange behavior. Are you trying to worry her or what?”

“Why would I worry her? She’s… dear to me. A good friend.”

Killua groans and slaps a hand over his face. “Oh right, I forgot you’re dense. You mean you like her. It’s so obvious that even Gon has noticed.”

Kurapika splutters out a “w-what?!” before Killua continues.

“Let me clue you in. Every time you pass her by, you smile. You blush like a girl with a crush every time she hugs or touches you. Honestly you’re worse than Leorio..”

Kurapika wasn’t listening. Was that what he was feeling? He… he liked you?

It was starting to make sense.

“I…” he looked away, quiet, but didn’t deny Killua’s accusation.

“Listen, I don’t care if you like her or not. Just know that she is important to a lot of people, me and Gon included. You hurt her, you’re dead.”

With that, Killua walked back inside and joined you in the kitchen.

Kurapika held a hand over his chest. He knew he should push these butterflies away and distance himself from you, but before he could, something draws him back to your side.

Maybe he can indulge himself in these fuzzy feelings, just for a little while.

225 notes · View notes

jq37 · 3 months

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The Report Card – Fantasy High Junior Year Ep 3 Fast Times at Fantasy High

Welcome back to Fantasy High! It’s a very exciting episode because something that we rarely see in this show about high schoolers studying at an adventuring academy is happening: The Bad Kids are actually going to class.

But first, they have to get to school. Riz, unsurprisingly, arrives first. On a big old 30 Investigation roll (+11 to a 19), overnight he did a deep dive into what everyone needs to do to get into a good college. Fig is actually doing great. If she would just go to her classes, she’d be fine. Kristen on the other hand is in serious trouble seeing as allowing your god to die is pretty much an auto-fail for a cleric. Fabian and Gorgug are both solid students with good extracurriculars. Their main hurdle is going to be the MCAT–the Multiclass Achievement Test. In order to multiclass, you need to get permission from your current advisor and pass the test. Then you can take 3/4 of each track for a 150% course load. And then, of course, he and Adaine are the party nerds so they’re doing great. They could maybe add some extracurriculars but they’re model students.

RIz also has done some research about possible college options: Astral State University (where they visited in the one shot), CUS Dabus (in the City of Doors), Bastion City University (who are doing big, world changing stuff), the Society of Shadows (the rogues only group that forces you to leave your life and friends behind that Penny Luckstone refused to join in The Seven), and–most hilarious but also saddest–Lord Salazar Edge's College of Lone Adventurers (which we learn in the AP was a Murph pitch, lol).

Back at Mordred, Adaine is doing her best to get her less studious friends up and ready for school, going as far as casting Friends on them to get them in the car. Fig willingly fails and Kristen–who really wants to be convinced–sets the DC at 10 and gives Adaine the Help action. Before they get to the car, Lydia (Ragh’s awesome mom) slaps a toxic looking blue energy drink from Kristen’s hands and gives them all full trash bags full of food for lunch (she’s used to feeding half-orc athlete Barb Ragh, not three spellcasters).

Jawbone loads them in the car and, on the way to school, they hear the song of the summer which is this emo anthem. When they meet Riz, he’s super excited to see everyone and show them their dossiers. He even made one for Adaine just for fun even though she doesn’t need any help and she loves it. What she (and Riz) don’t love however is Fig’s new school plan which, as we learned last week, is to enroll in something other than bard classes and then go to her bard classes (since a part of her isn’t going because she has chronic Stick-It-To-The-Man-Itis). Riz and Adaine try to figure out if they can gaslight Fig into going to her classes or hack the system somehow.

Back at the Thistlespring tree, Gorgug is doing some last minute pre-school work: creating his homunculus (which is kind of like an artificer’s familiar). It’s a hastily made archaeopteryx (flying dino thing, if you know Pokemon, think Archeops) that’s light on the feathers. He accidentally names it Cloaca (a birds multipurpose excrement chute) which his parents love because it’s spreading awareness of non-traditional bodies. Then they launch into a story about mermaid reproduction that I’m not gonna get into because not even Gorgug wanted to hear it. He’s clearly anxious about his skills because he feels his parents disapprove of the bird even though they’ve never been anything other than 200% supportive of him in their lives.

He gets a ride to school and his friends meet Cloaca, who he nicknames Chloe–the name I’ll be using even though the Bad Kids of course will exclusively call it Cloaca. Riz hands Gorgug his file which he reviews along with the letters from his parents. It’s a lot of the same info except that one of the letters is a rejection re: Multiclassing with a note to talk to his advisor (Porter, the Barb teacher who Fig hates).

Fabian shows up, starving and shabbily dressed without Cathilda to take care of him–she’s still in Leviathan. The girls share their trash bag food with him which he wolfs down gratefully. (When he mentions his parents are away, Fig seems surprised that Gilear left. Interesting to note for future eps because that feels out of character for their relationship). Anyway, he mistakes Chloe for a piece of trash because is it really the first day of school if Fabian doesn’t insult Gorgug (accidentally this time. progress!) and then the bell rings. As it does, the Bad Kids look around and realize something strange: they’re Juniors now. That means more than half the kids here are younger than them now. They’re not the Freshmen they once were.

The Sorc Prof (Jace Stardiamond) is filling in as VP while Gilear is away and as he makes an announcement on the intercom, Fig almost falls into an open construction pit (a SECOND construction based incident) but is saved when she’s hit with an armful of gym equipment instead. Put that on the Faeth luck swap conspiracy board. Anyway, Jace also says that Aguefort is gonna be out so they have a new Principal: Emergency Backup Interim Principal Grix. The Bad Kids have never heard of this guy before.

In the spot where they saw Dane and Penelope campaigning to bring back Prom Court their first year, the Bad Kids now see a table for Student Gov manned by Jawbone and a minotaur student he seems to know: Mazey Phaedra–a senior and the student body prez. She’s also based on a Scottish Highland cow which isn’t important to the story but it is important to me because those cows are super cute. Riz suggests they sign up so they go talk to Mazey who seems cool: She thanks them for saving the world, she knows Ayda, and Fabian clocks later that she’s a dancer bard. All green flags.

After indulging Fabian’s ego for a bit, the squad encourages Kristen to go for President. Before she can though, she’s beaten to the punch by a halfling student with major Tracy Flick energy who introduces herself as Kipperlily Copperkettle. Kristen immediately shoots back with, “What are you, four different dogs?” which is maybe the funniest thing a Bad Kid has ever said. The Bad Kids hate her vibes on sight but Kristen especially is full aggro. Riz notices that she’s wearing a pin of a rat’s butt being grinded between two gears and when asked about it, she says it’s Ratgrinders pin–Ratgrinders being the name of her adventuring party. They ask who else is in her party and she points out Reuben–an emo, gnomish bard who is signing autographs because he’s the one who wrote the song they were listening to on the way to school (before Kristen changed it to a health and wellness podcast).

Kipperlily (who I’m gonna call KP) is told that she can sign up but she has to find time to campaign outside of her classes. She says that won’t be a problem because she’s already aced Junior Year and she slides over an envelope to Jawbone to prove it. Apparently, the way Rogue classes work here is that the students find clues and puzzles throughout the school left by the professor but they’ve never actually met them. If a student is able to find the Rogue professor, they automatically get an A for the year and, apparently, KP did just that.

Paperwork in order, KP is about to leave but Fig stops her to ask what her platform is. Her answer: “Equality, equanimity, and fairness under the rules. In the past, there has been an eccentricity to the bureaucratic and administrative decisions of the Aguefort Adventuring Academy that has favored some students over others. Very nice to meet you guys.”

As she leaves, they hate her even more.

Adaine tries out a new trick she has which allows her to see into the ethereal plane. She sees a lot of Aguefort’s wards but also the fact that the wards are porous enough to let in ghosts because one of the professors is a ghost, though they don’t know which one. She suggests to Riz that maybe the Rogue prof is a ghost. She also sees some ghost steaks in the fridge, presumably belonging to the ghost prof (btw: steak for lunch at a high school seems wild, lol).

At this point, Fabian notices Mazey’s dancing shoes (Badidas of course) and clocks that she’s a dancer bard. He talks to her about how he’s looking to multiclass and she hooks him up with a note to give to the dance class professor (Terpsicore Skullcleaver) that says he’s a good kid. She also tells him that Jem Peppercorn (the absolute legend who stayed in the gym eating for the whole Goldenhoard fight) graduated last year and he had the party house which means there’s an opening for a new party house. And Fabian has a very big, very fancy, very empty house. Kristen does an Insight check and gets a Nat 20 to clock that yeah, there’s a little bit of a flirty vibe going on. So of course, she uses Thaumaturgy to create tremors–a move I was extremely confused about at first blush but I think she was using to give Fabian an excuse to hold her or something. Clearly, she’s a more attentive Wingwoman than she is a Saint.

Anyway, conversation finished, they go to the Auditorium where Jace announced Principal Grix wanted to give a speech. Grix is a gold, warforged spellcaster with a ball comprising his lower half instead of legs. Apparently, he was created by Arthur Aguefort to take his place while he’s on vacay. He speaks in a stilted, robotic manner and gives a speech parallel to Aguefort’s day one speech about what an Adventurer is. But instead of the rambly, unhinged answer Aguefort gave, he simply gives the Dictionary definition: One who goes on adventures. And then he starts going off about order, bureaucracy, and rules.

The Bad Kids are taken aback–even rules gremlin Riz.On a 27 to clock whether he’s been hacked (because she can’t believe Aguefort would make a robot that acted like this) Adaine sees Grix steepling his fingers and saying “Perfect order” which isn’t conclusive but is def troubling! They start raising their hands and asking Jace questions about if they really have to follow rules in a hard way this year–it still is Aguefort after all–but Grix cuts in and says that the backtalk he’s getting is exactly the problem. He casts Time Stop (a 9th level spell) and the entire auditorium finds themselves in the hall, in a single file line, ten minutes before class is about to begin. Not a great start to the year! And on a dirty 20, Kristen doesn’t see KP anywhere. Suspicious!

Riz tells Fabian and Gorgug about any extra MCAT stuff they don’t already know. He also tells the group about the Frosty Folk Festival and Gorgug mentions that his parents are hosting. Fig says she wants to maybe try out some of her new songs there…once she’s written them. Fabian asks if they can take a break from hardcore Bad Kid stuff this semester and Kristen says that’s a good point because she has a campaign to focus on. Fig declares herself secret service because, of course she does. She also announces her plan to go to Bard classes…but disguised as a new persona (Tiny Emo Girlie: Wanda Childa) so she can befriend and spy on Reuben. Riz and Adaine are at the end of their collective rope.

With his free time before the bell rings, Gorgug wants to talk to Porter to sort out the MCAT stuff. Porter lays it out for him. He thinks Gorgug has amazing, raw, natural talent and he uses his rage in a really noble way to protect his friends. But he hasn't seen him reach his full destructive potential and he’s not impressed that he defeated the Night Yorb will tools and “magic” instead of rage. He would be fine if Gorgug wanted to get some Fighter levels with Ms. Jones or something else that would dovetail nicely with Barb classes, but as of now, he hasn’t seen what he needs to see to think that Artificing classes would do anything but steal focus. Gorgug can of course quit the Barb track and move to Artificing, but Porter is not giving his approval.

Meanwhile, Fabian is having a much less hostile meeting with Terpsicore (after an accidental detour to Adaine’s wizard class because he trusted Fig–who’s never been to bard class–to give him directions). Terps is this tiny (5 ft 3in) Half-Orc with crazy, hyper positive, aerobics grandma energy who immediately breaks down Fabian’s cool guy jock persona and gets him into a dance, jam sesh with her that moves through different styles of dance and music. I can’t do this scene justice, you have to watch it. Her “Uh-oh, uh-oh! Uh-oh, uh-oh! A challenger approaches!” tells you everything you need to know about her.

By the end of the dance, Fabian has fully embraced his weird art kid energy and Terps has approved Fabian for multiclassing. It’s looking like all sunshine and roses for Fabian until Terps tells him that if he’s gonna make this multiclass thing work, he needs to be really serious. Lots of rest. Lots of healthy food. And no parties. Uh-oh indeed.

Next up, we turn our attention back to Riz who’s still in the hall and tries to steal the envelope KP turned in to Jawbone to get some info about the Rogue prof. Jawbone catches him and is good natured about it but won’t let him have the envelope: not for moral reasons so much as because a good rogue has to earn it by not getting caught.

Riz asks about KP and Jawbone says she’s a good kid but kinda Type A. He asks Riz if he’s getting some “I’m in the picture and I don’t like it” energy from her and Riz denies it. Jawbone decides to give him a little bit of a hint re: the Prof and says that KP technically didn’t find the prof. The prof found KP. But he won’t say more and he would appreciate him not saying where he got the info. The main reason he’s giving the info at all is because KP was snooping and heard him talking about Kristen’s god dying. She then asked Jawbone a bunch of questions about Kristen which he answered so he figured fair’s fair with regard to giving Riz some info about her. Riz is troubled. Jawbone tells Riz that they’re due for a heart to heart but Riz says he’s good and he’s stressed but stress is good. Yikes!

Kristen is also still in the hall and finally properly signs up for class president but, as she does, she hears some familiar voices: it’s her parents, dropping her younger brother Bucky off for his first day at Aguefort. She has serious deja vu as they’re saying the same “Don’t mix with the weirdos” stuff they said to her on her first day. Kristen fails a Wisdom save and is deeply affected by watching her parents basically bullying her younger brother who she hasn’t seen in a good bit now. The last time she had any contact with them it was just to give them her dragon gold and that was over the phone. She sees that her not being in the household to shield her brothers from her parents has led to them having to take all that parental abuse and pressure alone. She goes over to confront them feeling hot under the collar and Riz senses a crackle of something in her aura.

Cass chimes in, thinking she’s been summoned, and asks if it’s a good time for them to talk and Kristen snaps at her that OBVIOUSLY it’s not a good time. Kristen feels a spasm in her body and, for the first time, Cass snaps back at her: "Fine! I can make my own people to talk to!“ Deeply concerning, but we’ll come back to that. For now, we follow Kristen as she reaches her parents and brother. Bucky immediately goes in for the hug and seems very happy to see her. Her parents, not so much and the feeling is mutual. “Second time’s the charm, hopefully” they say, tacitly deeming her a failure. She pretends to be directing traffic so she can hustle them out the door ASAP and gets a Nat 20 to do so (rolling with advantage for reasons Brennan doesn’t expound on). Bucky says he wants to talk to Kristen about something but he’s late so can they meet up after class? She says sure thing and he runs off, his longsword trailing after him.

Kristen is left alone with her parents and it’s a bit of a standoff. Her mom asks how she’s going and seems to genuinely want to know to some degree but it’s still mainly jabs about her lifestyle and choices and leaving the church. Her dad especially comes down hard on her for leaving Helio without a chosen one and becoming a cleric to a night goddess right before they were struck with four months of night which, admittedly, is a fair thing to have questions about. But Kristen has died and come back from the dead. If that can’t keep her down, her parents certainly can’t. She pirouettes away from the conversation and heads to class (because she may not be worried about her parents but she is worried about what Cass said to her).

We hop over to the second nerd of the party, Adaine, who’s in wizard classes with Professor Tiberia Runestaff who Brennan says has “Evil Lucille Bluth” energy (which is different from regular Lucille Bluth how?). She’s a friend of Aguefort’s from the Mountains of Chaos and Adaine wants to impress her so so bad.

She starts off her lesson by saying that this year is the weed out year. This is the year that separates the paltry magicians from the truly great casters. Then, she starts listing out the materials they need for this week’s castings–a list that includes TEN BARRELS OF DIAMONDS. For ONE WEEK. Adaine may come from money but she doesn’t have access to any of that money right now. She raises her hand to ask if there’s any way she could borrow some diamonds from the school or something and basically gets a harsh, “That sounds like a you problem” kind of response that she shrinks back from. Tiberia continues to list the ridiculously expensive materials needed to continue on and Adaine knows that she can’t ask Jawbone for any of this. She resolves to call Aelwyn for help during lunch.

We then move on to a Fantasy High first: Fig going to class! Although she’s not going as herself. She’s disguised as her alter ego Wanda Childa. The professor (Lucilla Lullaby who is some kind of chill Eladrin) seems to perhaps think she recognizes her before she sits down next to Reuben. She charms him by smelling of peach schnapps and cigarettes and they have a flirty emo-off before Lucilla points out that she’s 100% not on the roster and, despite the fact that it doesn’t always seem like it, this is a school with rules. This year especially! She leaves, but as she lingers to give Reuben one last look (and sniff) she notices that he has a Ratgrinder tattoo that matches KP’s pin.

As she exits Lucilla is making a call on her crystal and there’s a good chance it’s connected to the encounter Fig has when she gets to the hall. Jace Stardiamond is leading an eagle aarakocra Council of Chosen agent (think FBI) who is investigating truancy in the area and calls Fig by name–well by pseudonym anyway. He is incidentally also looking into the disappearance of Hilda Hilda. Sensing her chickens are finally coming home to roost, Fig gives a weak lie about not knowing how schools work and skateboards away, using Cutting Words to prevent Agent Clark’s attack of opportunity on her. He vows to find out who she is as she makes her escape.

Proving you can lead a horse to water but you can’t make it go to bard class, Fig goes outside to spy on her class through the window instead of attending because she thought Lucilla actually seemed pretty cool. She doesn’t hide well enough though and Lucilla spots her through the window. She’s shocked to see Fig for the first time in two years and welcomes her in like she’s the prodigal son. Fig asks if it would be weird for her to attend. Lucilla assures her that it’s the opposite of weird and, in fact, mandatory.

She settles in for her first day of bard class–this semester and ever–but out of the corner of her eye, she notices a sneering Rebuen texting someone. It’s Lola Embers. Looks like they’re signed to the same label.

Finally, we hop to Kristen who’s headed to cleric class with Professor Yolanda Badgood (a wispy air genasi). Before class even starts she tells Kristen to meet her after class. We timeskip to that meeting and, like many others in this ep, she thanks Kristen for saving the world. But she has a followup question: How did she do it when her god is dead? Kristen says she has a lot going on with her estranged parents she just saw and her scattered mind and her feeling like the stairs are disappearing behind her as she climbs. She has to update her god in the files and her address for that matter because, as we learned when she talked to her parents, all her mail is still getting sent to her old address. Her professor sincerely asks her how she’s feeling and Kristen says she’s fine but asks if there’s some kind of test she can take that will tell her what god is right for her. Her professor is like, “Didn’t you just say you had a new god???” But Kristen feels so much pressure with Cass and she mainly feels annoyed by her presence. Professor Badgood says that she’s allowed to change her god as much as she wants–she herself gave up an active relationship with a divinity so she can be kind of an interfaith minister to all her students. And she says that all faiths are trying to capture a piece of the truth–even the out there ones with evil gods and such. She recommends that Kristen spend a week earnestly trying to connect with Cass and if she still feels like she wants to split she can go from there.

Kristen has a followup question: What do you do when your god says, "Fine, I'll- I'll make new followers"? Badgood seems taken aback, and she’s even more so when Kristen says she’s been rude to her god. Kristen asks if she should apologize and Professor Badgood gives her the most gracious version of, “Duh, obviously” a person can manage. She directs Kristen to one of the million prayer rooms in the class so she and Cass can talk.

Kristen actually takes this seriously–or at least more seriously than she takes most things. She clears her mind and meditates until she finds herself in the forest of Sylvaire where Cassandra is crying to herself. A bright moon that would erase any shadow or doubt encroaches. When Kristen tries to touch Cass’s shoulder, the god flinches away and sobs that Craig–her only other follower–has joined the Wolfsong Revival. Tracker’s movement.

Cass is scared. She doesn’t want to end up dead in the Astral Realm like Yes? Kristen apologizes and says that she understands that she’s getting to point where chaos isn’t cute anymore. She follows that up by saying that her top two priorities are Cass and her student president campaign however so I don’t know how committed she is to being serious. Cass isn’t either because she flat out states that she can’t rely on Kristen. She’s so so lonely and she’s confused about why things aren’t working out. They started out so big and magical and they’re still so stuck. She thought it might be because of her somehow but then she learned about the trail of abandoned gods in Kristen’s wake and realized that *she* was the connecting factor, something that Kristen cops to verbally: “It’s me,” she says.

Cass announces that she’s getting some help and Kristen asks who. A cleric? Nope. No clerics for now. She just wanted a friend. Kristen sees her petting something invisible and asks if it’s a dog.

“I’m more of a cat person,” Cass says as a black cat fades into view.

“Hi Kristen,” Kalina says.

And that’s where we end our ep!!!! The bitch is back!!!!

Honor Roll

Riz for Thinking Of All His Friends

In Sophomore Year there was a thing with Riz’s dad where it was like, sometimes you show your love through work and, viewed through that lens, Riz *really* loves his friends. I recognize that the likelihood of his meticulous plan actually working is slim to none and he’ll have to accept that even if they all stay really close friends (which they better), they’re likely on at least slightly different life paths, I do think it’s really sweet that he’s putting so much effort into making sure that ALL of his friends are successful by the metric that he’s using. Also, the “Hi Adaine :)” binder for her was so cute. I love nerd friendship.

Detention

Fig for Hilda-Hilda-ing Too Close to the Sun

Girl the Fantasy FBI is after you!!! Just stop lying and go to class!!!!!

Random Thoughts

In the AP for this ep, Emily mentioned some cool warlock thing that might be worth taking the MCAT for and officially registering (she’s currently off the books multiclassing) but it’s never mentioned in the actual episode so I assume it got snipped away in editing.

I really love how polite Adaine is to anyone who hasn’t earned her scorn and the little moment of her taking a reasonable amount of food from the trashbag Lydia offered her and thanking her was very endearing to me.

Zac is very quick on his feet and Chloe is a GREAT save for Cloaca but it is ABSOLUTELY not gonna be what anyone calls that bird but me and him.

When Jace said over the intercom that Sorc classes are just talking about how fun and easy magic is, I’m surprised Adaine have anything snarky to say about that, lol. *I* had a comment and I don’t even go to that school.

Is anyone else getting like…Santa Clause 2 energy from the Grix situation? If that ends up being the vibe then that’s super funny because iirc Santa Clause 1 was ref’d a bunch with the oracle stuff in Freshman Year. Full circle baybee.

KP seems like she is springing into existence to fill the voice left by Penny Luckstone getting her GED and leaving. They’re like on the exact same level of one axis of a cartesian plane but on opposite sides. Both at 100% intensity but vibes in opposite directions.

I kinda wanna add a poll to this post that’s like, what is the crazier story? Mermaid reproduction with the Thistlesprings or snapping turtle man with gun up his secret cloaca story with Jawbone?

Honorary Honor Roll to Ally the person for the legendary 4 dogs joke. Honestly even funnier knowing that that’s the actual name of Brennan’s old PC. Burned the man to his face. Roasted him like corn.

OK, so what are we thinking about the Ratgrinders? Is that a ref to grinding rats for XP or more how they see other people/what they’re going to do to people who get in their way? KP is obviously very rules focused but in a Lawful Annoying way. I do think it’s interesting though. Have any of you guys ever seen the Community episode where it turns out everyone at Greendale hates the gang because they have major main character syndrome and are always forcing everyone else at school to accommodate their flights of fancy (a perfectly reasonable reason to have beef with people)? I’m wondering if there’s a bit of that energy happening here. Either way, this strikes me as a party that’s interested in exploiting loopholes and such for maximum efficiency (eg: finding the rogue prof for instant straight A’s) and that’s a different kind of maverick behavior than what the Bad Kids do which is go buckwild, breaking rules if necessary, but getting real results. It’s like the BK’s are Aguefort’s perfect party and I’m suspecting the RG’s are Grix’s. Speaking of–

A FH concept I had ages ago was rival adventuring party to the main group which has like, bizarro versions of everyone. And we may be getting that! We have an emo bard to contrast Fig’s punk rocker energy. And a rules follower (derogatory) rogue to contrast Riz who is also a rules follower (blessed). Very curious to see the rest of their party! And very curious to know if they’re Bad (™) or just annoying in a high school way. Sometimes people just don’t vibe with you.

Oh, a specific concern that I have: KP specifically asked where Kristen was able to create a god. I don’t think that’s info I want a super type A person I don’t trust to have.

Very sweet that Jawbone’s immediate instinct when he thinks an earthquake is happening is to bodily shield Fig and Adaine, his two kind daughter-figures in the Bad Kids.

Kristen says that Cass is a hard sell but I have to disagree. Look at this flyer. It looks convincing to me!

“I think songs can accomplish a lot, if you let yourself hear the music.” Gorgug :( He’s gonna show Porter this season. I just know it. I believe in you Spring Break!

Love Murph throwing in the Frosty Folk thing apropos of basically nothing just to make sure they had an in-character reason to all know about that for later, just in case. Info management! Important!

I remember Bucky being a lot younger but either I’m confusing him for one of her other two brothers or it got retconned (or Quangled lol) older to make this storyline work. Very interesting that he went in for the hug, not the other way around. Seems like at least one person missed her. With his longsword and his parents’ inclinations, it seems like he’s most likely a Helioic Paladin. I’m very interested in how they’re going to treat his relationship with Helio because even though Kristen rejected him and we’ve seen that he has some followers that range from just shitty (K’s parents) to downright culty (the Harvestmen), that doesn’t mean that all of his followers are like that and we’ve never actually seen Helio be anything but pretty chill when he’s appeared. He wants to talk to Kristen about something and my conspiracy theory brain is wondering if he was asked to be Helio’s new chosen one but he hasn’t told anyone yet. That would be very interesting and I’d like to see a storyline about the tension of K and her brother having very different relationships with the same god. The chill peace and love god might have been a great person for him to turn to in absence of his one lifeline in the house leaving. But it could also be tons of other things so we’ll see.

Wild that Kristen has pissed off or abandoned every member of that godly family (Sol, Helio, Galicaea, and Cass). She really is the constant here.

Ally says Kristen is wearing an Adidas tracksuit meaning that this world canonically has both Adidas and Badidas.

It’s a funny moment when Terps is like, “Is there harm in your life? ”to Fabian when he mentions eating food out of a trash bag but like, the kid isn’t doing *great*. Def some neglect happening and he said he was wearing yesterday’s clothes and still banged up from the Night Yorb fight. If I was a teacher, I’d have questions too!

Yolanda Badgood. Terpsichore Skullcleaver. Lucilla Lullaby. Most of these professors are named like My Little Ponies and I love it.

When Lucilla say “Wanda” it seems like she briefly (correctly) thought it was Fig which is funny because it paints the picture that she’s been actively waiting on pins and needles for her to show up for the past two years. It’s funny because she’s not a missing person. She’s highly visible both from saving the world and being a rockstar AND both of her dads work at your school! Just get in touch!

Really hope Adaine follows up on the Aelwyn conversation because I wanna see two kids raised in old money discuss the price of ten barrels of diamonds.

Also lol at random things like Fabian being the FUTURE OF DANCE being pinned on Adaine’s oracle prognostications.

#Dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #d20 #d20 spoilers #fantasy high #fantasy high spoilers #fhjy #fhjy spoilers #spoilers #the report card

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