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#It’s freeing that’s for sure but also I miss little me
justwonder113 · 3 days
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Maknae Part of this lovely ask
Hyung line Here
Masterlist
Warnings: I don't think there's any, but if I missed please tell me. Not proofread. Jisung is having twins other than that nothing is specified.
A/N - I hope you like it, please share your thoughts and reblog. I really love hearing your thoughts. If you have any requests feel free to request. Love you all, please take care of yourselves ❤️❤️❤️
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Han Jisung
You couldn't wait to tell Jisung the news. You just knew that he would lose his mind. You two had been trying for a baby for a while now, and you've noticed some changes recently. But you were misled like that earlier with symptoms, so you wanted to make sure that you were actually pregnant. And after taking countless pregnancy tests this morning after Jisung left for work, you headed to the doctor. And he gave you the most wonderful news ever.
You couldn't help but giggle as you walked into the JYP building. Of course, the only thing that could be heard on the whole floor was the screams of your husband and his bandmates. The sound hit you like a wave once the elevator door opened. In fact, they were being so loud they didn't even hear you knock on the door. Thankfully Chan heard you knock and led you inside, welcoming you first with a warm hug. The boys quickly greeted you, well almost everyone, your husband along with Hyunjin and Minho was so distracted by debating that he didn't even notice you walk in. You quickly gave the snaks you had bought earlier to Chan to share with the boys and approached your husband. You couldn't help but roll your eyes once you realized what they were arguing about. Hyunjin and the homewrecker aka Minho kept arguing who was closest to Jisung and your husband, being the menace he is, was only putting gasoline on the fire, enjoying the chaos way too much. Han saw you immediately and quickly approached you and gave you the sweetest kiss ever. Minho and Hyunjin kept arguing and didn't even notice you. Han quickly explained that they were arguing who should be your baby's godfather because being an uncle wasn't enough. You were impressed Hyunjin was this ballsy towards Minho. Who kept grumbling from time to time that he would put Hyunjin in the airfryer and that would solve everything. Han admitted to them that you two were trying for a baby. You smiled at Han and gave him a kiss on the cheek, you motioned to him to listen to you well. You then approached Minho and Hyunjin and stopped them by putting your hand on their shoulders. (Yes you were in a dramatic mood like that.) "You don't need to fight about it. I have great news!" You turned to your Husband who looked at you with wide curiosity filled eyes. "I'm pregnant Ji, and we're going to have twins!" If you thought that they were being loud earlier, your eardrums almost burst from the collective cheers of the boys. As for your husband, he most definitely kind of fainted and was bought back by an awestruck Minho who quickly smacked him on the head to pull himself together. Han quickly regained himself and was all kver you in seconds. Littering your face with millions of kisses, showering you with all kinds of praices.
All of the boys were over the moon and kept congratulating you. Minho and Hyunjin stopped their silly little argument and now sat on each side of you talking to your belly all excited( and if you're wondering that shouldn't your husband be by your side especially now? Bold of you to assume that he even let you go, you were sat on his lap proudly and he kept showering you with affection). Boasting about how much of a cool uncles and godfathers they were going to be. Hyunjin kept talking about how he could teach the babies how to draw, Minho kept talking that he would let them play with his cats and he could teach them how to dance. At that Hyunjin also got visibly more excited. And now they kept talking about all the cool choreos they could teach the kids. Han kept listening with the most proud look in his eyes as he squeezed you closer to him, carefully, of course, but enough to show you just how much he loved you.
It was really sweet and you couldn't stop smiling. Seungmin, being the mance he is, did warn you that you should spare your kids from all the influence of all three of the paboracha members, and you couldn't help but laugh at that, much to the said trios dismay. But you know in the end everything was going to be just fine.
Lee Felix
It was a well-known fact that everyone and their mother adored Lee Felix. You also were one of the victims who fell to his deadly charms and sunshine persona. Of course, you were lucky enough (plenty, like be for real) to call him your husband, but anyways, you get the point. Now imagine what would happen if the said sunshine was soon going to be a father? If your answer is that everyone was going to lose their mind over it, then you're correct because that's exactly what happened. The boys were over the moon once they heard that you were pregnant. Of course they were shocked at first, it was kind of hard to imagine their sunshine baby as a father but they quickly aquitanced with the idea and now were more than excited to be the uncles.
Especially Chan. He was the most excited out of the boys. He loved everyone like they were his brothers but it was a known fact that his bond with Felix ran deeper than that. And now he was as exited as if his actual sibling was expecting a child. Felix was also on the same wavelength and as he didn't have any brothers he did view Chris as the uncle of his Child.
Chan tried his best to be as supportive and as helpful as possible. It was really endearing and cute. All of the boys were. But nothing could beat Chan's determination, especially not when he gave your little one the most precious gift ever. He wrote a little lullaby so you and felix could sing it to the kid every night. It was so beautiful too! Both you and Felix couldn't help but tear up. You two were on each side of him cuddling and hugging him as tight as possible while he smiled shyly saying that this was nothing and he would write many more songs for the kid to enjoy. He really was the most precious best uncle ever.
Kim Seungmin
Your sweet husband was so excited that you were going to have a baby soon. He could barely hold his excitement. It was really endearing. He was so sweet and gentle with you! He gave into your every wish and little craving. He basically carried you on top of his hand. He didn't even tease you that much. It was really cute to see him so eager. Also, you just loved how neat and organized he was. He wanted everything to be perfect for the kid and thought through everything.
You two were settling up the nursery for the kid. He ordered the prettiest set for the kid. He spent a whole month researching all the best products read every review and ect. You just love how excited he was. And you just loved every piece he had chosen. He basically did a presentation on each and every one of them.You gave your comments and your ideas and showerd him your pinterest board, and just like that, you ordered everything for the most perfect prettiest nursery ever.
But now, the dilemma was that you had to assemble everything. Which was a bit harder than you thought, especially since Seungmin barely let you do anything and told you to rest since you were almost 6 months pregnant. You were more than capable, but here was no point in arguing with him, so you gave in.
He sat like that for a while, trying to assemble confusing peaces together, but he gave up after a while. And decided to do something he rarely did. He asked for help.
Changbin was a bit confused, unused to Seungmin directly asking for help. But he was more than happy to help. He quickly got into things and in no time got the hang of it.
You decided to bring the snacks and drinks to the boys, not wanting them to overwork themselves. Seungmin was quietly working on the crib while Changbin helped him and softly sang the song he was working on. And that's when you felt it. "The baby kicked!" Both of the boys' heads snapped in your direction, and in seconds you were sat on the tiny sofa you had chosen for the nursery. Seugnmin and Changbin were on each side of you kneeled on the ground, watching you with eager eyes. Your husband had his hands on your belly and kept encouraging the baby to kick again, but nothing. You waited like this for a while. Both you and Seungmin encouraged and talked sweetly, but still nothing, then Seungmin had an idea. He looked unsure first but still decided to try it out. He turned to Changbin and asked him to sing the song again. Changbin looked confused for a second but quickly complied. And that's when you felt another kick. Seungmin looked like he was about to cry, feeling his child kick. Changbin was so shocked, too! He was over the moon. And he was so excited that the baby liked his voice he immediately started bragging that the baby liked him and that he was most definitely the child's favourite uncle. He kept happily singing the song to you. Of course promising to write many more songs for the litrle one to enjoy. Seungmin was a little bit petty that the baby kicked for Changbin's voice and not his, but he was more than happy that the baby was feeling good and healthy. Although he did promise himself to outshine Changbin and sing prettiest of songs to the baby.
IN
Everyone almost lost their minds then they they heard that their maknae, their babybread was going to be a father. And if you fought that they were protective of Innie they were 10 no 100 times worse for you. They never let you lift a finger whenever they were around and always basically spoiled you rotten as if Innie didn't do that already.
8 months into pregnancy went just like that, so smoothly and without much discomfort. You really couldn't wait before you could hold your little one in your hands.
The little one must have been eager to see the world too because they were always so active. They always kicked around and wiggled for many things, but their favourite seemed to be Seungmin's voice. You discovered it randomly, Seungmin was visiting you and Innie. It was a peaceful day. Your baby was also really calm that day. It was quiet until Seungmin broke the silence by humming some song that was on his mind. And once the kiddo caught the voice they almost went crazy in your womb. Both you and Innie were shocked, but the kid really seemed to love Seungmin's voice. And since that, whenever he was around, Seungmin always hummed different songs to you. Not only did it soothe the baby, but you also really enjoyed it. Even now, as you listened to Seungmin humm some lullaby, you felt so content and peaceful, your eyes were starting to droop. The little one was too active these days and barely let you sleep. Seungmin's voice was like a balm to your mind and soul. You couldn't help but relax more and more as you put your heas on his shoulder as he kept humming.
Jeongin couldn't help but smile as he layed a blanket on your sleeping form. He also couldn't help but give a glare to Seungmin who looked so smug. It was like he grew 10 times more he was so smug and proud that the little one was enjoying his voice so much. He even teased Innie that the baby might like him more than him. There were definitely more than one bickering sessions between your husband and Seungmin about this. There was simply no point to talk about ongoing stray kids wars who was going to be the little one's favourite uncle because Seungmin was an absolute menace about the favouritism your kid showed towards him. It was like everyone tried 10 times more to be the baby's favourite. It was a little bit too much, but hey, as long as the kid was peaceful.
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diejager · 19 hours
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Hi! I'm not sure if you're still doing/taking requests for the monster!141 au anymore so feel free to just ignore this if you aren't! 😊
But if u are can I request a drabble/headcanon about venom!hunter? I'm curious about the dynamic between them (venom & hunter) and how they got along and worked together (i don't really know how to phrase it🥲) when they first met.
Also how did they first met? How does venom get along with 141? I'm not sure if u already wrote about it.
Venom!reader headcanon
Cw: blood, gore, cannibalism?, canon-typical violence, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 898
Your meeting with Venom was an accident, a coincidence culminated from horrible events, you weren’t supposed to separate from your squad and he wasn’t supposed to die in the body of an incompatible vessel. It was a moment of shame and disgrace, making the simplest mistake one could do in your positions, but everything had a reason, no? Because you found Venom and he found you, he was your way back and you were his compatible vessel.
It was… difficult at first, sharing one mind and body with someone else took some time. A lot of time. It was a struggle of push and pull, your calm waters and his violent storm. While you preferred to stray from trouble, Venom loved it, actively seeking it out whenever he had control of your body. There was a lot of fighting, internal struggles and bickering back and forth, but you eventually came to an understanding —common ground. 
If he let you live your life - a dangerous one filled with blood and violence, still a young private in the army without any achievements and with big dreams - have monopoly over your body whenever you were off the field, you’d relinquish your key on his cage whenever he was hungry while you were fighting, letting his loose to run his rampage and fill his stomach with the heads of enemies. 
It was a relationship built on mutual respect, you for his determination and him for you strength. You understood one another, so your occasional disagreement grew rarer and rarer. You didn’t fight about feeding him only chocolate because you couldn’t stomach the sight of bitten heads. You didn’t fight about wanting excitement when times were too quiet. You didn’t fight when you wanted a few moments of silence in your mind. And you didn’t fight whenever you felt him poke his head out of your sleeve.
This symbiotic relationship only meant that you;d grow closer to each other, he got to know you on a fundamental level and you got to discover more and more about his past and dreams —he had a few wild ones, but all attainable. You shared your fears, your secrets and your pains, you laughed when he stammered after your promise to protect him, his blubbering words and growls sent your way when he said that he would be the one to do the protecting. His reasoning being that he was bigger, stronger and more dangerous than you and your little explosive weapons. 
It was from then on that he called you Little One, a slip of his tongue while you laughed and kicked your legs at his flustered face, his head reaching from your shoulder to glare at you. He acted like a love sick puppy afterwards, often calling out to you when he was bored, nudging your arm while you worked, wanting pets and kisses, or would shower you with loud and boisterous affection. Though he always proclaimed it to be him providing for you, it wasn’t affection - no - it was him watching over you like a guardian —or so he mumbled. 
He would step in if he deemed a situation too dangerous for your fragile, fleshy body. He’d warn you, let you know where and who was coming for you, be it a sniper from a mile away or a group of armed soldiers sneaking around you. If you couldn’t deal with it in time, Venom would forcefully push his way out of you, covering you in a protective layer of his body, the mass of muscle and sinewy cords building a protective shell. And fortunately, it’s only happened when you were hidden away, the knowledge of Venom’s existence would bring unwanted attention to both you and him, none of which were good. 
You met Venom before your study and test for the rank of combat medic, getting his support and mind to help you through it all, his photogenic memory, his talented hands and strength. It was only after earning you new rank, did Laswell contact you for the position on the Task Force 141 since your record held no sign of hateful acts towards monsters and hybrids, and your high success score. 
You both vowed to keep Venom a secret from anyone, he was off the record in every sense, unknown and a mystery, a variant that you were adamant to keep a secret. Venom didn’t… hate the men, he might’ve had a small dislike for their attraction and affection towards you, he was a possessive and protective symbiote, but seeing how you were a permanent fixture in the TF, he was forced to tolerate them. He would let you know what he heard and sensed from them, small secrets he caught or fun, little pranks that he wanted to do, and occasionally protect them. Only because you cared for them, he’d hate to see you sad and worried, Venom preferred seeing you smile and laugh. 
And following these events, Venom could openly interact with the hybrids, unafraid since it wasn’t a secret anymore. He was a bit reluctant, but slipped from your collar whenever someone mentioned something he liked: chocolate, human meat, you or violence, grinning maniacally and flashing his big, white teeth. Despite his apprehension, Venom was a menace, to them as much as he was with you, and yet you still loved him so much. 
Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-nooraa @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce
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sinner-sunflower · 3 days
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A HH Lucifer-centric AU 20/?
PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 21, PART 22
Like ketchup. Slowly then all at once.
Radioapple!
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Lucifer still feels like he's underwater, floating where the current takes him. He thinks he's dreaming because his eyes refuse to open all the way.
At least he isn't burning anymore.
It's mostly quiet, the only sound he can hear is the sloshing of the water.
It's calm. He doesn't know how long has it been since he's been calm in the quiet without company.
Once in a while though, he hears voices. The waves carry them in weird intervals and he tries very hard to think who is talking.
'You'll be okay, Luci.'
'I'll do everything to make you comfortable and back to full health.'
'AN HOUR TO SERVE YOU, SIRE. DO GET BETTER. I SHALL GIVE YOU THE BEST SERVANT THE GOETIA CAN PROVIDE.'
'Baby bro, if you wake up now, I'll give you a lifetime supply of my juice!'
'Okay fine, I'll change Looloo Land's name fo real, yeah?'
'You need to meet Fizzie still, Luci.'
'Don't worry sir! I didn't touch a single duck in your room when I cleaned it. No more bugs though!'
'Zestial and I give our deepest gratitude in behalf of the overlords, Your Majesty.'
'Charlie is a fast learner.'
'Oh, Your Majesty, do wake up. I don't think I can take any more of Alastor's not-rambling. I love me some romance but whooowee, a woman has her limits, yknow!'
'I don't think I can eva' thank ya enough fo' setting me free, short king.'
'Pretty badass, your kingness.''
'I want to get to know you still sir.'
'Darling, do come back to me now. I miss you so. And do not listen to any of Rosie's lies.'
'Dad, please wake up. I need you.'
The last voice caused the calm waters to turn into a whirlpool and he feels himself being pulled down. A bright light appears in front of him, illuminating the deep, dark waters. And for a moment, just a moment, he thinks- no it couldn't be;
He reaches out a hand to touch but as soon as it did, he was propelled to the surface.
Lucifer wakes up slowly and then all at once. The King blinks in confusion and trying to get his eyesight to clear. A blurry figure of white is the first to greet him; no face but it's smiling?
'Father?'
Charlie: Dad!
Huh?
Lucifer: Charlie?
He winces at the state of his voice. Did he scream himself sore? He tries remembering what happened and-
The roots.
Roo.
A ritual.
Charlie.
Hell.
Sloth.
Goodie.
The deal.
A prophecy.
A sudden pain stabbed his head which caused him to groan.
Lucifer: Shit!
He forces himself to sit up just to relieve it a little. A rubbing hand on his back grounds him a bit. Looking up, he came face-to-face with his daughter. His sweet, lovely, Charlie.
Charlie: Woah, Dad. Take it easy. Here have water and some pain meds. Aunt Bel left it here just in case.
He doesn't need to be told twice as he took the pill, noting the bitter taste in his mouth. Pride be damned (ha! get it?), he just wants the pain to go away.
Charlie is still fussing and talking a million miles per hour and Lucifer doesn't have the heart to make her stop even though his head is about to split in half.
Maybe Charlie will forgive him if he snaps right now. Thankfully that doesn't happen as a new person comes to enter his room.
Alastor: Charlie, dear, I think your father would appreciate a quieter room.
Charlie: - Oh, Al! Right! Sorry, dad.
Lucifer: It's okay, applepie. Can you also dim the lights a bit?
Alastor: Charlie, might I ask of you to get food for your father? There should be some leftovers still.
Charlie: O-oh I- Sure, Al! Be right back, dad!
As soon as she left, Alastor moves to Lucifer's bedside. Lucifer follows his movements and only then does the King realize the insane amount of flowers taking up every space in his room. And then he realized that Alastor has some in his hands too.
Lucifer: What's all this?
Alastor: Why, tokens from your loved ones and dearest citizens. These ones are of mine.
The Radio Demon points at the golden Marigolds. Lucifer observes the other flowers and sees that every bunch has atleast a few Marigolds tucked in them.
Did.. did Alastor put them there so he could have the most flowers given? What a possessive bastard.
His endearment must be obvious in his face because Alastor huffed- freaking huffed!
Alastor: Whatever you are thinking, it is simply nonsense.
Lucifer puts his hands up in a mock surrender.
Lucifer: I didn't say anything.
Alastor: Good.
Alastor can be so cute when he wants (or not want?) to be. His lover? partner? Yeah, partner, sits down by his side, letting Lucifer lean onto his shoulder.
He's not soft like Lilith but Lucifer feels just as content. The sin of Pride stares at his arms that is now covered in runes he doesn't understand, no longer just plain black. Roo really did a number on him- her powers were far too strong it basically altered his appearance. He's more demon now than he was ever an angel. He doesn't know how to feel about that.
Alastor: Some things are to be discussed, right, Your Majesty?
Lucifer: Mmm. Yeah. But- I can't. Not right now. I'm not sure if I can.
Alastor: That's alright, mon ange. We are not in a hurry. We have our afterlife.
Lucifer bites his lip and holds Alastor's hands in guilt. This is a burden he must carry himself. What's inside him... it would be more dangerous if anyone else knew, especially Heaven. It's better to think of it as a wild card than a ticking time bomb.
Alastor hums a tune that makes him sleepy again. He doesn't remember falling asleep but he does vaguely recall being laid down again. He remembers a feeling of a kiss on his forehead, something brushing his cheek and moving his hair.
A nice calm before the storm.
---------------------------------------------------
Charlie took so long cos she wanted to heat it up but the microwave is missing?? (Alastor's doing)
Next chapter, Luci will wake again and have a talk with Charlie
Just wanted to get some Radioapple in there.
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ladykinrannoch · 3 hours
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Hoping you do a reading to assure the amazing Princess Catherine of Wales will be ok 🙏
I have many similar asks like this one, so forgive me, I am not going to answer them all, it will be too repetitive.
Like everyone else, I am in total shock. I missed the announcement last Friday, as I was in an area with very little signal. When I did see Catherine's announcement on my way home over the weekend, I was stunned. I was also incredibly sick with flu on the two-day drive back from the coast and literally have been man down since Monday. Today is the first day I am really catching up. I may even have finally had Covid <wink> seriously it has been a very long flu.... my sense of smell finally came back today on the 8th day. (I get flu once every five years and it is always a doozy, last flu was September 2019)
To reassure you all, absolutely nothing in any of the cards that I drew around Catherine early in January and February, even in the readings I did not publish, had even hinted at anything this serious. So I think even the Universe didn't see this coming. Except for the first reading when it was announced she was admitted to hospital. I will say that potentially that is the one "white lie" that was told that it was "planned". I got the sense then that she took ill suddenly and that William was beside himself with worry until after the surgery. If the surgery was planned it was probably planned at short notice, like within hours of her taking ill.
I think what remains for us to all do is send her healing energy, white light, lots of love and wishes for a full recovery. As I know, and I am sure many of you also know, a cancer diagnosis is a terrible shock. But caught early like mine was at 36, a full recovery is entirely possible. I am 21 years cancer free. I fully believe that Catherine, Princess of Wales will be back with us very soon.
I am disgusted at the way in which the media, celebrities and the trolls have behaved now that I have seen what has been transpiring. Honestly, I feel so depressed that my grandchildren will grow up in such a hateful, evil and ugly world.
For some time a group of us lightworkers here have been toying with the idea of formulating a white light energy circle and joining up with energy circles around the country to try to raise the vibrational energy around us and in our communities for the protection of everyone. For us being in peace and harmony with nature and with our fellow souls is paramount. I bid you all to go out into the world each day in perfect love and in perfect trust. Only good people can change a world that is quickly becoming overtaken by darkness. Speak out, fight injustice, and most of all be kind. Blessed Be )0(
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pagesfromthevoid · 3 days
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Imagine this because I am and it’s just. It’s cute and I just REALLY WANT TO PLATONICALLY HUG ASTARION IN THAT FUCKING DUNGEON
Cuddle Puddle:
The party returns back from killing Cazador and Astarion has essentially disappeared. Tav is worried sick, because even if they’re with Gale, Astarion is her friend and she’s scared. Gale tries to reassure her obviously because he doesn’t want her worried but she just can’t help it.
Astarion finally comes back, still covered in blood and battered from the fight, and Tav immediately approaches to check on him. He tries to wave her off but she scolds him, reminding him that they’re friends and she was scared.
“Can I just…can I hug you? Is that okay?” She asks, because she’s never actually touched Astarion, let alone hugged him.
He hesitates but nods slowly, because he also hasn’t been hugged in centuries and honestly he has no idea what to expect. But Tav throwing her arms around him to hold him like this is almost too much to bear. And he just starts sobbing into her neck.
So when he’s finally done sobbing and being a mess (Tav doesn’t mind. She reminds him over and over it’s okay to cry! She cries all the time! So does Gale!), he pulls away and apologizes. But she waves him off with a reassuring smile.
“Why don’t you lay with me a while? Just so you’re not alone.”
And Astarion immediately thinks —no, she’s not trying to proposition me. Not now, not after everything. But looking at her, he realizes she’s *not*. She’s just…being nice. Offering solace and comfort in her arms like a mother would her child.
“I’m sure your wizard would be less than thrilled,” he counters, though he wants to. So bad.
“Gale doesn’t mind —do you?” She turns to Gale now, those puppy dog eyes working wonders on the resident know it all. “Just a cuddle. Nothing more than that.”
Gale stammers a bit and blushes, but shakes his head. “I- no, of course not. A comforting embrace is an important cure for overwhelming feelings. And I’d know —Tav has spent many a night comforting me.”
“Gale —,”
“I mean with cuddling!”
Astarion hesitates again, but nods slowly as Tav takes his hand gently. Gale pushes two of the beds in the Elfsong room together, making it a little more comfortable for the three of them to lay down. Astarion is surprised Gale agreed, given how uppity he had gotten when Halsin approached Tav, but he’s secretly thankful the Wizard didn’t mind as he sat on the edge of the beds.
Tav practically throws herself into the middle, sighing as she pulls all the pillows around her like she’s making a nest. Astarion watches for a moment then kicks his shoes off and joins her, allowing her to take him in her arms and rest his head against her chest. Her arms snake around him tight, hugging him close to her. Gale makes room for himself on her other side, where she rests her head on his shoulder as he wraps his arm around her.
“What’s this, then? A cuddle party and I wasn’t invited?” Karlach all but yells, throwing her hands in the air. “Finally get my engine tuned and I can’t even have a cuddle.”
“No one said you couldn’t,” Astarion counters, peaking up from where he lay against Tav. “It *is* rather nice.”
“Softy,” Tav teases, running her nails through his hair. Then she extends her free arm out to Karlach. “C’mon then.”
Karlach all but squeals in delight, pushing another bed closer to connect the three. Then she throws herself into the mix, laying half on top of Gale and Tav.
“Fuck, this is great. I love this. I love you guys.”
Tav glances up at Gale, who’s trying not to move too much or risk pushing Karlach off him. But he leans down and kisses Tav’s hair and Astarion all but gags.
“No way,” Karlach warns, swatting Gale’s face away from Tav. “Absolutely no lovey dovey shit in the cuddle puddle.”
Halsin joins next, though he takes up far more space than anyone else. And then Shadowheart comments about missing out on all the fun, so Tav finds her way out to pull her in too. Wyll joins, laying closer to Astarion with a soft smile and his arm around the vampire (who totally doesn’t move away from Tav to lay a little closer to the Blade of Frontiers. No way). Lae’Zel side eyes everyone, but caves and sits on the floor beside the bed.
Eventually, they throw all the pillows and blankets in the sitting space by the fire to make more room for everyone.
This begins the party cuddle puddle.
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unluckilyimnot · 2 days
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hello :3 do you think you could take a request about Sae Itoshi? From blue lock, like a little AU! fantasy where he is a prince and we are his soon to be wife? If you don’t, just ignore this! Tysm and have a nice day
Happy birthday - i.sae
in which you spent your birthday night with you fiancé I fantasy AU (kinda) I 1.6k
m.list | rules
note: hii thank you for your request <3 fantasy AU are my nemesis, i suck at it but I am a ball lover so i did it that way i hope it's fine. i basically do anything with sae so always feel free to ask
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You exhale slowly as you check your reflection one last time in the huge mirror in your room. Doing a little spin, and another so you get to see every angle of the wonderful dress your father got you for your birthday party, you can’t help but feel nervous.
The dress is beautiful, in every fabric and color that you love. It’s perfect, in every detail, from the laces to the sparkles. It’s everything that you like. Your makeup is perfect for the night, your hair is down : your servants really did an amazing job, you're so thankful. Everything is perfect, and so will be this night. The princess’ birthday party is always the best. But that will also be the last one happening here for you, in the palace you spent your whole life.
You’re getting married later this year and maybe that’s because you will enter a new world, a new home and family that you felt more like crying than laughing for the moment. Even if there’s no need to worry about this right now,  you can’t help  it. It will be your last birthday here, you had to make it special. Softening the fabric below your hands, you brush the dress lightly while composing yourself one more time. It will be a wonderful night.
You checked your alliance one last time as you made your way to the reception room, ready to make your entrance. There’s already so much noise, you can hear so many voices and music is being played in the background. You glance to the side, bow your head to the knight guarding the place for everyone's safety before letting go of the breath you held until then. A pretty smile appeared on your lips, bigger than the one you force yourself to portray everyday and you take the corner to stand in front of the big stairs. Someone announced your presence and you started going down the stairs while smiling at the crowd under thunderous applause.
You received a thousand congratulations for your birthday and all your previous worries were long forgotten, vanished with the music and you lost track of time. Letting yet another man kiss your hand while congratulating you, you bow in appreciation before hugging his wife who is a close friend to your mother. You get once more involved in a rather boring conversation that you have to pretend to like before someone catches your eyes. Excusing yourself, you hurriedly walked through the crowd to the special someone you just noticed, a sincere smile on your face and sparkles in your eyes.
“Good evening, Sae.” you said happily, taking him off guard. You’re not buying it, him ? Here ? That’s a real surprise. “I’ve never seen you at any balls.” you added, to notify your own surprise.
He cleared his throat, not fully laying his eyes on you yet. “I’m not the most sociable.”
You chuckled at his words. Yes, you’re aware of that for sure. He frowned at you a little before offering you his hand anyway.
“But I couldn’t miss my fiancée’s birthday, could I ? Your dad would’ve been mad.”
“So would I, Mister. Are you even thinking about me ?” you teased before taking his hand in yours. Now, it was like everything was in place to spend the night you were hoping for.
“More than you think.” he whispered as he started to guide you through the crowd once again.
You two talked with so many people, drank so many drinks that you lost count of how many dances you did or how many partners you had between your friends, siblings and guests. All you could feel with the blessing sensation of being as light as a feather. The music takes you to another world, allowing you to be silly one last time, laughing around with your friends and siblings under the persistent yet loving eyes of your future husband. You played dumb when your eyes met and always sent him a huge smile, but you were just as observant as he was and knew exactly when to come to his rescue.
That’s how you stumble to him, playing a little more drunk than you actually were and take his hand even though he was caught up in a seemingly boring conversation.
“Dance with one with me, would you ? Can I steal him from you ?” speaking quickly to both of them, your eyes fell on the medals on the other man’s jacket before smiling to ease him. Military men are hard to deal with.
“I can’t decline anything the princess says, can I ? Especially tonight ; he’s all yours !” You smiled at him as a thank you and just like that, Sae was being dragged away on the dance floor, shaking his head in disbelief. Taking his hands in yours, you two waited for the new song to start and moved along with it when it did.
“You don’t have to thank me.” you teased again but he didn’t answer this time, knowing he didn’t have to. You were already too caught up in the dance, swinging around in this magical waltz as if this was your last night – which felt like it to you. You were getting married in three months, everything was already set and you wouldn't see your siblings or friends often anymore. It felt like the last time you would be able to enjoy yourself that freely and he knew it. That’s why he came, so you wouldn’t have only boring memories with him. To see you smile and have dances like those with you, hearing your laughter was all he asked for tonight.
But the music slowed down and soon, you got closer. He’s not making you spin anymore, you don’t try to make him spin when he doesn’t want to either, and your laughter calmed down. Only a satisfied, tipsy smile remained. Your footsteps synchronized together at a lower pace. Everything seems quiet suddenly, you could only hear your heartbeat and feel Sae’s hands on you. The music and people’s voices fade out, leaving you and Sae in a bubble. You chuckled at the safety filling your body. It was indeed a great night.
“Thank you for coming.” you said out of nowhere, not even looking at him but laying your head against his shoulder. Your heart racing in your rib cage, probably beating hard enough for him to hear it but you didn’t mind. You two will soon be even more intimate. He will feel your heartbeat more than once.
“Don’t thank me for that. Happy birthday, my dear.” he answered quietly, close to your ear before kissing your temple. A nervous laughter left your lips before you bite it down.
You never thought he would be like that, he seems like a distant man when deep down he can’t keep this facade up. Not that you mind. That’s why you fell for him.
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i hope you liked it !
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turtletoria · 1 year
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i was having some wordgirl reboot thoughts and then embarked on a 9+ hour straight journey i can never take back (my hands and back hurt so much) (i have never drawn so much in such a short period of time) 
also im sorry the quality is so bad; i just hope theyre clear enough to see!
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the poll for how to arrange the brackets just finished with proceeding as originally planned winning!
so, without further ado, here are the lineups ^^
note :: songs with a * next to them may require a content warning. i'll provide specific warnings as soon as i have the time, but as of now please proceed with caution
main matchup bracket ::
alice of human sacrifice* by yugami p / fear garden* by chaa
magnet by minato p / romeo and cinderella by doriko
world is mine by ryo / world's end dancehall by wowaka
triple baka by lamaze p / the disappearance of hatsune miku by cosmo p
meltdown by iroha(sasaki) / luka luka★night fever by samfree
fire◎flower by halyosy / trick and treat by oster project
daughter of evil by mothy / dancing★samurai by kanimiso p
rolling girl by wowaka / matryoshka by hachi
madness of duke venomania* by mothy / alluring secret ~black vow~ by hitoshizuku x yama
senbonzakura by kurousa / outer science by jin
doubleganger by kulfiq / mikusabbath by utsu p
jinsei reset button by kemu / common world domination by pinnochio p
the fox's wedding* by masa works design / tokio funka by takamatt
heat haze days by jin / patchwork staccato by toa
six trillion years and an overnight story by kemu / lost one's weeping by neru
aishite aishite aishite by kikuo / echo by crusher p
setsuna drive by taki yoshimitsu / yoake to hotatu by n buna
a fake fake psychotropic by kairiki bear / therefore you and me by tadanoco
my r* by kurage p / i'm glad youre evil too by pinnochio p
chururira chururira dadada by kurage p / mkdr by deco*27
blessed messiah and the tower of ai by hitoshizuku x yama / 86 by dasu
law evading rock by neru / nakakapagpabagabag by dasu
sand planet by hachi / ghost rule by deco*27
monster by kira / hated by life itself by iori kanzaki
cause i'm a liar by mcki robyns p / honey i'm home by ghost
hole dwelling by kikuo / bring it on by giga
meteor by divela / seraphim on the ring by mitchie m
the court jester by thquib / casino by azari
king by kanaria / villain by teniwoha
lower by lanndo / phony by tsumiki
higanbana milk tea by vane / scapegoat by ghost
queen by kanaria / bug by kairiki bear
honorable mention bracket ::
electric angel by yasuo p (original), giga (giga arrange) / freely tomorrow by mitchie m
po pi po by lamaze p / go google it by wintermint p
black★rock shooter by ryo / bacterial contamination by kanimiso p
i like you, i love you by gevanni p / first love academy • school of true love by nem
(also a quick general note ! i don't have everything ready for a formal polished reveal at the time of posting this. i plan on updating this post with links to the songs and also a visual bracket when i have the time. they'll definitely be up soon, so make sure to check back in a bit for them ^^
i'll also make sure that reblogs are turned on for the final version!)
#vocaloid song showdown#sorry it's just a list for now i promise i'll update it and make it look nicer as soon as i get the chance :'D#i'll also add the playlists to the final post so those will finally be out soon too !#but for now it's just a quick little post to get the matchups out sooner rather than later since this is already kinda behind schedule :')#anyway it's still kinda bonkers to me that only one person nominated po pi po and electric angel#those songs used to be Everywhere it felt like#and unless i continually missed it no one sent in llevan polka :(#(to be fair itnisn't originally a vocaloid song. idk if i could fully qualify it bc of that but still shocked that it got no nominations)#oh also ! until i have the image finalized if anyone thinks any matchups should be tweaked at all feel free to lmk !#i was mostly judging popularity based on nominations and view count (reprints included) but it was hard to tell for some ???#like i remember a whole bunch of reprint channels getting deleted or privating all their videos and i'm sure that impacted some view counts#and rolling girl in particular has a lot less views than i thought it would ???#it's not a small amount by any means but it also seems to be on the higher side of the average for the final bracket songs#it was also unsurprisingly the most nominated song#so some of the matchups were a bit weird and wonky to put together fhdkfh#(especially echo actually too ? it got 2 nominations and barely made it but has the highest view count out of all the songs last i checked)#anyway all that to say if anyone wants to give feedback on the bracket pairings i'm open to it until i get the formal version up ( ^^)b#additionally if i missed any songs that should have some sort of warning please let me know fhdkdh#i added them only off the top of my head so i might've missed one#(the final version of this will have more specific warnings too. potential flash warnings as well)#EDIT :: changed up within 24 hours to up soon#i wish i could've had everything together within 24 hours but things came up and i need just a little more time :(#but i wanna get started on voting monday (february 27) for real this time ! no more putting it off :'D
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uglypsyche · 10 months
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the-acid-pear · 7 months
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Every time I think about Jevil from a more serious standpoint recognizing how sad the shit going on there is I want to rip my head bald.
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dolla-dolla-yeah · 2 years
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Sooo.... since i failed to get anything i wanted at the benefit sale should i just buy the main doll i wanted to get directly from ag???
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Ok I just gotta say something here my friends found my tumblr by literally looking up a few of my interests with the word tumblr. Triangulated my location
#it was mpi little witch and genshin if ur curious#i was the first result#i was still the first result if u get rid of genshin#the overlap between little with fandom and mpi fandom is me and solely me#in ten years when someone is a fan of both of these and I’m long gone come talk to me anyways#i understand the lack of overlap whole heartedly ones a cute witch school anime that’s very gay with a neat villain#and the other is live action family centric crime show following 2 partners who r clearly in love with the prettiest woman you’ve ever seen#u can really tell my favorites from those very brief summaries#and also that im gay. that definitely plays into every single one of my interests#mpi is definitely not my typical show and I very much did sit thru an episode to get out of doing things and bc there was pretty woman#and then I made sure I was free every Friday night and it eventually became something I’d watch weekly with my dad#the worst part is it was so good I just couldn’t stop! and I’d watch episodes and then go hide in my room bc I had to see what tumblr says#slow burn enemies to best friends to lovers?? I’m gone for that#the characters and relationships were just so good that I watched it every week in college and the weekend I came home I still made time#i will say the cancellation is still actively breaking my heart I don’t know what I’m gonna do without that show. and that its cliffhangered#I’m confident that it’ll get renewed somewhere I just wish there was less uncertainty#I miss only using tumblr yall. twitters fine and I like a lot of the people there but tumblr is my beloved little home#god knows I’m staying right on Twitter tho tweeting my little fingers off until I get the word my show is safe#soup talks
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zreamy · 4 months
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i'll love you forever
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pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader
summary: you were sunghoon's first everything; first friend, first love, and first heartbreak. after years of quietly crushing on you, he was finally ready to confess. so ready to confess, that he told his parents the two of you were already dating! it was an easy enough lie to keep up and he kept it up for months, what could possibly go wrong? he thought. little did he know, you would have a falling out and stop talking for months.. and then, you'd both get invited to spend a week at home with his parents, who still believe you're his girlfriend.
genre: smut, fluff, angst, college au, childhood best friends to lovers, fake dating
warnings: minors dni, fake dating is pretty mild (sorry), she kinda doesn’t rate him at the start, these two kind of exist in a vacuum a little bit idk i had a self-enforced word count to stick to and broke it.. (im within the 10% allowance !), sunghoon in a vest, sunghoon arms, sunghoon
word count: 21,858
playlist: click here.. (for my non-spotify babes, the main song is light by wave to earth (which for some reason i put last.. whatever))
author's note: for silly @asahicore. happy birthday pooks i hope it's amazing and that u enjoy reading this when u have the time !!! LOL (lots of love) also im never writing without telling you things again this was so absurd.
to everyone else.. ok happy reading also emma did not beta read this so im sure it's missing its charm .. anyway it's for emma not you 😭 anyway i hope u enjoy regardless and lmk ur thoughts! omg this is the first fic im nervous about posting.......... please enjoy or else.
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In the three years since Park Sunghoon moved away for university, he’d been doing a pretty good job of going home to see his parents. They’d welcome their baby back to the nest with open arms and wide grins. With a rehearsed level of indifference, his younger sister, Yeji, would say, “Oh, I didn’t know you were coming home this weekend.” when she saw him at the dinner table. Sunghoon pretended to only be marginally hurt by this. 
In the last three months, he hasn’t so much as sent a text to his parents. 
Or to you. 
Ignoring texts from his mother is devastating. Between classes, he watches as, “Hi, sweetie, I love you 😍,” turns into, “Missing you, honey, know you must be busy but spare some time for your old mummy, no?” which turns into, “Getting really worried now, are you doing okay? Has something happened with YN? Talk to me, I love you, my baby boy!” 
Ignoring texts from you is easy because texts from you never come. 
Sitting at the end of his bed, Sunghoon rereads a text his mother sent a few minutes ago: Please talk to me, son. Really worried and YN isn’t answering calls either. What’s going on with you two?
When he leaves his room, he finds Jake lying on the couch, and with his keys in hand, Sunghoon says, “I’m going home.” 
And the drive is great! At least, he tells his mum it is. In truth, the drive home without you was nearly impossible. Your ever-expanding home time playlist buzzed through the speakers in his car, but without you there to screech along to the songs, it wasn’t the same. He felt your absence the most when he stopped to get petrol and you weren’t there behind him struggling to carry enough snacks to feed a small family without offering to pay. 
The look of worry on his mum’s face stirs a pit in his stomach. “Why are you so quiet these days? God, you look so tired,” she says, frowning. “Is it school? Or something with YN? It’s not like her not to text back.” Her brows crease as she whispers the word unless. She pulls him into a hug, her chin resting perfectly on his shoulder, and her comforting hand strokes the hair on the back of his head. “Breakups are never easy, honey. I’m so sorry, I know how much you love her.” 
Breakups are never easy. The sentence hangs heavy over his head. 
Whether she knows it or not, she’s handed him a get-out-of-jail-free card, the opportunity to set things straight, to end this mess once and for all. No further questions, and most importantly, no more lies. 
For the first time since he left your flat three months ago, Sunghoon lets himself cry. He’d imagined this moment countless times, his first cry since you ended things. In his mind, it was always intense. Today, as it happens, only a few salty tears leak from his eyes, spilling onto the cuff of his sleeve, darkening the blue cotton in tiny indigo splotches. 
“We didn’t break up,” he says in a small voice—for some reason. “I’m just having a hard time.” Neither statement is technically untrue, but the words taste rotten in his mouth.
The tightening grip of his mum’s arms around his body is what brings on the harsh, shoulder-racking sobs he’d been anticipating. For a while, they stand like this, Sunghoon weeping into his mum’s cardigan until she sends him upstairs to lie down, promising a cup of tea that never comes. 
His childhood bedroom is chilly, so he changes into clothes he left behind and climbs into bed, pulling his duvet up to his chin. He turns his head to look at the walls and the room around him, everything is exactly where he left it in the summer. It should be comforting, but it’s weird to be home without you. 
There are photos of you and him everywhere, growing up and around each other through different stages of life. The two of you together during the summer your family moved in next door, you wore glasses back then and were the first friend he’d made in his life. Sunbathing and sharing earphones at the beach, listening to music together on your iPod classic. Sunghoon in thick glasses with a stiff smile and your arm around him on the first day of high school. Wide grins at the start of this summer, the last time things were okay between you. 
Overwhelmed, he stares up at the ceiling, only realising he’s crying when a hot tear slips from his eyes to tickle his ear. Because Sunghoon likes to upset himself, he screws his eyes shut and thinks about the night before you stopped talking. 
Though he didn’t know it at the time, you’d left Yeonjun’s place to sit with him in a tiny restaurant on campus, the one you’d only visit to toast to each other’s heartbreaks. It had become a ritual — ever since your first year boyfriend dumped you after two weeks — to cry as much as you wanted and drink as much soju as your bodies could handle before stumbling back to your apartments. 
Having spent years suffering from an unrequited crush on his best friend, Sunghoon was always the one to comfort you. But that night was different; you were there to comfort him. It was easy enough to play the part of ‘boy whose crush likes someone else’ because he spent your entire friendship in that role. He’d had no problem accepting his fate, but his composure started to slip when you met Yeonjun. It was the first time you’d dated someone who Sunghoon had reason to be jealous of. In every way, Yeonjun was better than him—taller, funnier, hotter. Sunghoon knew he didn’t stand a chance. He took it personally, you liking Yeonjun instead of him, and let his jealousy consume him from the inside out. 
This jealousy led him to start telling you about Minjeong—lying to you about Minjeong, and his feelings for her. She was a girl from a college out of town that he saw on his Instagram Explore page. He followed her by accident, and by some stroke of luck, she followed back. Sunghoon didn’t really have feelings for her — he didn’t even know her — but she was a girl that you didn’t know, so you wouldn’t be able to meddle. 
It only took a few weeks for Sunghoon to become so upset about your relationship that he couldn’t hide his emotions anymore. So, in a fit of tears, he told you over the phone that things ended badly with Minjeong, and he was in urgent need of a soju ceremony. 
But the night was missing its usual comforts.
It was strange to be the one crying, to see you looking put together and ordering the food. To see you pouring the drinks and raising your glass to propose a toast to ‘Hoonie’s first heartbreak’. You were driving that night, so you only had a tiny sip of soju and let him drink as much as he needed, the way he always did for you, at the same table, in the same restaurant for years. 
Hours later, in your car, you entertained his drunken rambles, though he remembers how your lips were set into a frown that he wanted to kiss away while you gripped the steering wheel like you thought it would run from you. Sunghoon was more drunk than he’d been in a while, drunk enough to let you sling his arm over your shoulders and keep him upright until you reached his flat. 
The voices coming from Yeji’s room disrupt the memory. He’s thankful.
“Your brother’s going through something, so be nice to him this weekend.” His mother’s voice is her version of hushed—a loud whisper. 
Yeji’s response is harder to make out, but he doesn’t miss the way their mum says, “I mean it, missy.” 
A dramatic sigh rumbles through Yeji as she barges into his room without knocking. Sunghoon sits up, feeling an ache in his back and crossing his legs. 
“Mum told me to lay off you today, which is fine, but before I do, I need to tell you something.” 
Yeji pushes the door shut behind her, and the open window makes it slam, both of them flinching from the sudden noise. She pulls her hair out of a silk scrunchie and throws herself on the floor. A pang of irritation forms in his chest, knowing that he could immediately find the empty hanger in his wardrobe where the shirt she’s wearing used to live. 
“I hate you and your perfect golden boy image, Hoon. Would it kill you to fail a class for once? I don’t know how I’m supposed to carry on your legacy.” She’s looking up at him, her chin in her hands and irritation written in the crease between her thick brows. 
It’s impossible to know if it’s because of Yeji’s complete lack of boundaries or the fact that her ‘perfect, golden boy’ big brother is on track to fail three out of three classes and get cut from the hockey team, but Sunghoon immediately bursts into tears. 
“Oh, uh.. I’m sorry?” Yeji offers. “I was kidding if that helps.” 
“I’m alright, it’s okay.” The tears don’t stop stinging his eyes. “Why do you want me to change everything about myself?” 
With a frown, Yeji pours out her frustration and mild resentment. She doesn’t understand how Sunghoon effortlessly conquers every aspect of life while she struggles. Neither do their parents, who had been baffled by her plummeting grades since she moved to boarding school, especially when Sunghoon’s academic performance has only soared since he left for university. The weight of this perceived injustice pulls Sunghoon’s shoulders down with guilt as she talks about the expectations he has inadvertently set for her. 
“But other than that, I’m good.” She shrugs, sitting with her legs out, and leaning back on her palms. “How’s YN?” she asks. It’s clear from the brightness in her voice that she thinks she’s helping. 
Sunghoon cries again. 
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Back on campus, he’s trying to scrape together what’s left of his academic career with the help of two of the smartest guys he knows, and their friend Jay. Though the word ‘friend’ feels a little strong at the moment given the way Jay’s goading him. 
Sunghoon rolls his eyes, sitting back in his seat. “There’s nothing you can do that I can’t,” he says, meaning every word. 
Jay scoffs, shrugging and raising his brow in a way that, over the years, Sunghoon knows to interpret as his ‘about to say something ridiculous’ look. “Pretty sure I could call YN right now, and she’d answer.” 
There’s a pit in Sunghoon’s stomach as Heeseung turns his head in the other direction like he’s been slapped, trembling with stifled laughter. At least Jake doesn’t hide his amusement, throwing his head back in a fit of giggles that draw nasty looks from the other students in the library. Sunghoon doesn’t waste his energy trying to argue because Jay’s right.
Now composed, Heeseung turns back to the table, flipping through some of Sunghoon’s course materials to find whatever his class was doing in class that week. The English Literature class he’s taking — The Modernist Movement: Joyce, Woolf, and Hemingway — is the same class he had to send a million emails over the summer to get enrolled in, but it’s the same one Heeseung aced two years ago. Lucky for him none of the boys seem to be in the mood to make fun of him for trying so hard to have a class in common with you, and then practically failing out of it before the term had started properly.
“This class is, like, beyond easy, dude.” Heeseung pauses to sniffle and twist the stud in his ear. “Everyone in my class aced it. How are you doing so badly already?” 
“I only took it because YN thought it’d be fun if we had a class together, but.. I kind of haven’t been going since we stopped talking.” Sunghoon shrugs, pretending to be unaffected. 
As if the mere mention of your name has some sort of summoning power, like saying Biggie Smalls in the mirror three times, you appear in his eye line, rounding the corner with a furious stride. Your demeanour crumbles when Jay waves at you, and you grin, waving back, but as soon as you look Sunghoon in the eye again, the rage comes back, and you smack a hand on the table when you reach it, leaning over to him. 
“Sunghoon, a word?” you ask.
He thinks you’re asking, but it’s hard to tell with the way you set your jaw afterwards, and the way the warmth of your signature vanilla scent hits him hard. Dazed, Sunghoon lifts a hand, pointing at himself. “Me?�� 
“Does anyone else at the table answer to Sunghoon?” 
“Okay,” he says, somewhat pathetically, nudging Jay for laughing at him. 
As slowly as possible, Sunghoon pushes his chair from the table and stands up, following you to the corner of the references section where only anthropology students in scratchy thrift store knits, and Jay, come to check out encyclopaedias by volume. You look good, save for the rage written all over your face—which, honestly, Sunghoon thinks he likes.
Sunghoon isn’t sure what to expect, so he says, “Hey.” He’s being cautious, waiting a moment to gauge your reaction. “What’s gooooood?” His cheeks burn as soon as he closes his mouth around the vowel, but you laugh. You laugh, and it’s beautiful and happy, and you’re laughing because of him—or at him, but he’s glad either way. 
Annoyance quickly clears all traces of amusement on your face. “Were you ever going to tell me we’re spending next week at Mum and Dad’s?” you ask. 
Sunghoon gasps dramatically, clicking his fingers. “I knew there was something I’ve been meaning to do.” 
His attempt at lightening the mood falls flat, and you only nudge his shoulder gently, sighing. “Can you be serious? For once in your life, even for a second, can you please think about how the things you say affect me?” You’re frowning, crossing your arms over your chest and looking at your feet. “It’s not fair, Sunghoon. For you to keep saying things—making plans involving me and then acting like I’m the bad guy when I turn you down.” 
“I don’t think you’re the bad guy at all,” Sunghoon admits. “If anyone is in the wrong, it’s me, I guess.”
You scoff, looking at him like you hate him. “You guess? Are you serious?” You look furious, but you sound hurt and Sunghoon hates it. Hates himself. “I can’t have this conversation with you right now. Tell mum I’m sick, and it’s contagious.” You roll your eyes and walk away, leaving Sunghoon alone with his thoughts and judgemental stares from students in crochet scarves so long they graze the floor. 
He sighs, slumping against the wall. How does he keep getting it wrong with you? 
Back at the table, Sunghoon manages to act like he’s not falling apart and makes some serious headway on his missing assignments with Heeseung’s help before they call it a day as the sun starts to set. 
When he gets home, he lies down on his bedroom floor, spending hours poring over the conversation you had. Over the minute changes in your facial expression, the tone of your voice, and the endless list of things he should have done, rather than watch you walk away. 
The moment feels familiar, both identical to and worlds apart from what happened after you left three months ago. When he managed to scrape the last shreds of his dignity from the kitchen table, he dragged his feet to his room and lay down like he is now, face to the rug. That day, he left his door open and lay so still that Jake thought he was dead. Sunghoon remembers wishing he had been. 
For once in your life, even for a second, can you please think about how the things you say affect me? The words run on a loop in his mind, over and over, until he can’t remember the order of the sentence or where you put emphasis. They’re cutting all the same. 
Sunghoon sighs into the itchy fibres of his black rug before rolling onto his back. In the diminishing purple light of the setting sun. he looks at the walls of his room. At the Fleetwood Mac poster, he stole from Jay when they moved out of their first year dorm, that curls away from the wall towards the ceiling—a diagonal strip of shiny tape being the only indication of the otherwise invisible tear through the face of Stevie Nicks. 
He’s glad when his phone rings, cutting through the quiet, though the sight of your name and the anatomical heart emoji next to it only dampens his spirit. Reluctantly, Sunghoon answers the phone, holding it to his ear. 
“I just got off the phone with Dad..” You trail off. Tangible silence follows, so thick it weighs on his chest. “I’ll go home with you.” 
“You will?” 
“Yes. Goodbye.” 
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Sunghoon reaches your flat at five in the evening. You don’t smile when you open the door for him, nor do you invite him in. Instead, you dump your bag at your feet and he cringes, looking from the floor to you. You’re aggressively beautiful and cosy-looking as you pull a jacket over the sweater you wore that night. Sunghoon’s heart aches in his chest and he wonders if you even realise. Suddenly, the memory of the last thing you said the morning after hits him like a truck: Then let’s not be friends at all. 
A familiar weight lands on his shoulder—your hand. Concern lines your eyes as you ask if he’s okay. 
With a lump in his throat, Sunghoon nods. 
In the discomfort of his car, the two of you sit in silence while he starts the drive home. 
“How’s Yeonjun,” he asks, eyes flicking towards you but regretting it immediately when he sees how you clench your jaw. 
“No,” you say simply, shaking your head. “You don’t get to ask me about him.” 
These are the only words you exchange until Sunghoon stops for petrol. He has enough fuel for the rest of the journey, but he feels like dying and thinks the fresh air might quell his thoughts of running his car off the road. Like always, the two of you get out and head into the kiosk, where he follows you wordlessly through the aisles, watching you debate on snack choices before settling on the same things you always get. Sunghoon pays for your snacks and you roll your eyes but don’t protest, mumbling thanks as you take them into your arms, leading the way back outside.
He knows he needs to tell you before you reach the house, but he’s not entirely sure how to say it—so he just does. “My, uh.. my parents think we’re dating.”
You stop so suddenly in front of him that he almost bumps into you. Stepping around you, Sunghoon keeps walking. 
Over the top of his car, he watches your face cycle through all five stages of grief until anger comes back around in the loop as you scoff. “Why do they think that?” Your face is devoid of expression now, the blankness over your features dragging a sharp chill over his spine. 
He stares blankly at you, processing. “Because I told them we’re dating,” he mumbles. 
“Why did you.. do that?” You tilt your head, eyes pressing shut in a long blink. “What are you even talking about? Why did you.. What?” 
A thin layer of sweat coats his palms despite the cold. Why did he do that? “We can stage a breakup during the trip or say we broke up right now,” Sunghoon offers. “Just one night, YN, please.” 
The wind whistles by, ruffling your hair and jacket that you hug tightly to your chest. Behind you, Sunghoon takes note of the group of girls standing by the pumps, all five of them jerking their heads abruptly when they notice him watching, suddenly finding interest in the scattered litter and flickering halogen bulbs in the steel canopy over their heads. 
You’re staring when he looks back at you, nostrils twitching with a sniffle before you sigh. “Or we could say that you’re a liar and end things there,” you say. “Or better yet, you go down there on your own and tell them the truth.”
Sunghoon’s gaze drops, his thoughts racing in his mind. He knows you’re right. At some point, his parents will have to find out, and it’d be better for them to find out now. Sunghoon sighs, nodding. “Alright,” he concedes. “I’ll take you back.”
An angry laugh comes out of you as you shake your head. “No need, I’ll walk.” 
The station you’re at is neatly nestled in the middle of nowhere, on a road so narrow he’s not even sure it has a pavement. You’re halfway through the three-hour drive, so there’s no telling how long the walk would be, never mind the fact that the sun is already setting and it’s deep enough into October for the wind to sting. 
“From here?” he asks, incredulous. 
“Yes, open the boot so I can get my bag.” 
Sunghoon can only bring himself to say your name, a desperate whisper. 
“Open the boot.”
He repeats your name as if it’ll make a difference, he’s pleading with you, begging—though he doesn’t know for what. 
You go to the back of his car where Sunghoon joins you, a pit in his stomach when you step away. With misty eyes, you look up at him and his heart breaks. “Please.”
Sunghoon knows you well enough to know that you’re not actually going to attempt the walk home but also knows that you won’t back down if he keeps challenging you. He nods, opening the boot for you and getting into the driver’s seat—your move. 
You stand there, unmoving, and long enough passes that he thinks you’ll actually leave. The boot closes softly and you join him in the passenger seat. You sigh, buckling your seatbelt. “Let’s just get this over with.” 
For the rest of the journey, you sit in silence as Sunghoon briefs you on the relationship, fighting a smile as he thinks about being your boyfriend—even if only for a night. You scoff when he ‘reminds’ you that you’ve been together for four months now and the only reason you haven’t been able to come home recently is that your schedules don’t match up very well anymore—which couldn’t be further from the truth as, before term started, you went out to celebrate the fact that your class schedules couldn’t be more suited for seeing each other. 
Finally, at Sunghoon’s childhood home, the two of you smile and laugh for his parents before going to bed. Your relationship has only made his mother more averse to the idea of you sharing a room under her roof than she had been when you were younger. He’s relieved about this, and in the solitude of his bedroom, he lies on the duvet of his twin bed, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about the last few hours. 
With his parents, you’d sat up in the living room watching TV. They sat on the couch together, his mum nestled in his dad’s side, while you two sat on the couch opposite, mirroring their position. If your complete stiffness was anything to go by, you were less than comfortable with his arm around you and Sunghoon felt terrible for begging you to go along with this. It was after midnight when you all went upstairs and you let him kiss your forehead before all but slamming the door to the guest room in his face. His heart twirled and his mum beamed at him before saying goodnight again. 
Now, at 3 a.m. he can’t sleep. Flinching at the knock on his door, he furrows his brows and goes to open it. It’s you. Standing there with your hair scraped away from your face in one of his t-shirts. Your eyes are red, brimmed with tears as you step into his room and sit on his bed. 
He closes the door softly, heart aching at the sight of you so upset, and when he sits next to you, his heart tears apart because you move over, putting a distance between you. It falls out of his chest onto the floor when he realises you’re not wearing your necklace. 
Sunghoon suspected you might have stopped wearing it, it only made sense that if you didn’t want him, you wouldn’t want the necklace he bought for you either, but at least earlier, your sweatshirt sat so high he couldn’t see if you had it on or not. 
It was a gift for your sixteenth birthday, after your first heartbreak. He was so upset and angry that you let some loser hurt you that way, upset and angry that someone could be loved by you and fuck it up. Sunghoon was inspired by Jay, who’d gotten a pretty necklace for his girlfriend, and talked about her cute reaction for weeks, how happy she was to have a piece of him with her all the time. It was a locket, with a picture of Jay in one side and a picture of her in the other so the pictures would kiss when she wore it. 
While at the jewellers with Jake, Sunghoon thought something like that might be a bit much for the two of you and eventually picked out an equally pretty piece with his first initial on it. He wrote a corny note to put in the box, something about how ‘boys come and go but Sunghoon is forever’ and gave it to you with trembling hands a few nights later—it was the first time he ever made you cry. Immediately, he thought he’d done something wrong and was ready to snatch the box and run back to the jewellers (even though he trashed the receipt). You hugged him and told him you loved him. Sunghoon’s been riding that high ever since. 
Until tonight at least. 
“Are you okay?” he whispers. 
“I’ll do it, Hoon.” Your eyes lift from the floor to meet his gaze. “For as long as you need me to, I’ll pretend.”
As soon as the words leave your mouth, Sunghoon feels lighter, an unbearable weight slipping from his shoulders. You haven’t called him ‘Hoon’ in ages, and he can’t tell if you’ve said it out of vulnerability, or even noticed that you’ve said it at all, but it warms his heart nonetheless. However, he’s not fully at ease, still curious about your sudden change of heart and why you’re crying. 
“What happened?”
You pull him into a hug, and his eyes bulge out of his head. “It doesn’t matter,” you say, the words muffled by the skin at the base of his neck. 
For as long as he’s known you, you’ve smelled like vanilla, a sweet warmth that grounds him. Yet it’s only after these months apart that he’s able to put a name to the sensation: home. The realisation of how much he’s missed this feeling, missed you, floods him with a rush of emotion so overwhelming he can’t find the words to press the issue. A moment passes before he remembers to hug you back, his arms finally wrapping around you, pulling you close, and you sink into his hold. Months ago, he would have kissed the top of your head and mumbled reassurance into your hair, but tonight, Sunghoon settles for stroking the back of your head and hopes it’s enough. 
“You can talk to me, you know? You can always talk to me.”
A heavy silence follows, sharp as a dagger—scraping his skin, making the hair on the back of his neck stand on edge and lodging itself between his shoulder blades. Sunghoon’s breath hitches in his throat when you cling onto him even tighter, shifting so close you’ve had to settle in his lap. His heart races in his chest, pounding a rhythm so loud it fills the room. 
Finally, you speak, assuring him that you know and that you’re okay. At this, Sunghoon holds you as tight as he can, and neither of you speaks for the rest of the night. You fall asleep like this, in his arms, so deeply that you don’t even stir when he lies down. 
Rubbing your back, he watches the clock on his nightstand, the piercing green LED digits cycling through two whole hours right before his stinging eyes until you wake up. Sunghoon presses his eyes shut, pretending to be asleep when you kiss his cheek and leave his room. 
For the entire morning, you stay in your room, and although Sunghoon is concerned, he decides not to bother you. In the afternoon, he sits at the dining table with his mum, listening as she talks about work. When she asks him, he gets up to make a cup of tea for her. It’s at that moment when you finally come downstairs, looking so effortlessly pretty. Your hair is still damp from the shower, and you’re bundled up in one of his old sweatshirts. There’s a bright grin on your face that leaves his heart thudding. 
“Baby!” you squeal when you see him, charging towards him and wrapping your arms around him from behind. “Good morning.” Your words are muffled against the back of his t-shirt, and the four-letter word, and the sugar coating it, make his cheeks burn. 
“It’s great to see you too, YN,” his mum says with a smile. “My night was amazing; I slept very well and had no dreams.” 
You let go of Sunghoon and walk over to the table, kissing his mum on the cheek and wishing her a good morning as well. “Sorry, mum, how are you?” 
His mother doesn’t seem to have the heart to correct you either, allowing your 3 p.m. ‘good morning’ to go unnoticed. 
Sunghoon carefully fills both mugs to the brim and, with extra caution, carries them to the table. He places a steaming cup of peppermint tea in front of his mum and a milky coffee in front of you. A warm smile spreads across your face as you mouth a ‘thank you’, and his knees turn to jelly. 
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The next day, after eating an early dinner with his parents at the table, the four of you go out on a walk along the bike path you used to take for school. His parents have gone ahead, not intentionally, but because Sunghoon can’t stop you from dragging your feet. 
As with most things in the town where you grew up, nothing about the trail has changed. The leaves are yellowing in standard form for the season, and crunching under his feet with each step he takes. The only foreign experience is the silence that you’re determined to uphold. Everything Sunghoon says to you is met with either a hum, a nod, or no acknowledgement at all. At this point, he feels like he could drop dead at your side and the most you’d do is step over his body like a fallen branch. 
After letting you go ahead, the weathered slats of the wooden footbridge sag in the middle under his tread. It’s been like this for as long as he can remember and he wonders how nothing has been done about it. The stream rushes under it, loud and unruly, the smell of wet grass both comforting and suffocating as you look over the railing. It’s like something from a postcard, the low-hanging branches sweeping back and forth under the breeze, the grass lush and green around the path, murky water thrashing against the mud and rocks underneath with you in the middle of the frame, peering over the edge.
You keep walking when Sunghoon approaches, leaving him alone on the creaky bridge with nothing but the ache in his chest. He looks up, staring at the grey clouds in the sky through the gaps in the leaves, and sighs. 
Eventually, he catches up with you, grabbing your hand and locking his fingers with yours when his parents slow down. You stiffen, looking up at him with cut eyes and a creased brow. “What are you doing?”
Sunghoon matches your clipped tone. “Holding my girlfriend’s hand.” 
“No one’s looking, boyfriend.”
“You think my parents aren’t going to wonder why we’re lagging behind?” 
A scoff—your fingers remain defiantly stiff. “Do you think your parents are going to care whether or not we’re holding hands?” 
“My mum might after the show you put on yesterday afternoon, baby.” Bitterness covers the word like a blanket, a stark departure from how you said it. 
A long sigh rumbles its way out of you before you fix your lips into a strained grin. “Sorry, sweetheart, this is my first time pretending to be in love.” 
As your words hang in the air, Sunghoon’s emotions brew like a storm within him. Frustration gnaws at his patience. All hopes for a smooth week are dashed, though determination simmers in his chest with a strong resolve to make this work, to fix your relationship. It doesn’t stop the sharp pang of hurt piercing his stomach—he knows you don’t feel the same way, he knows you’re faking, but the word ‘pretending’ hits him like a truck anyway. 
“We held hands all the time when we were friends,” he points out.
Your smile drops immediately, hurt flashing behind your eyes. “Yeah, and now we’re not.” 
If there was a competition for who could hurt Sunghoon’s feelings the most, you’d be a shoo-in for first place. With distinction. 
“Exactly!” he says, feeling the sting of his own words. “Because now we’re dating.”
At the sight of his mum turning around, you switch up in an instant. Lock your fingers with his, wrapping an arm around his bicep, leaning into him, giggling. It’s forced but his parents are far enough away that all that matters is the curve of your lips.
“You two okay back there?” she asks. 
“Perfect! I feel like a kid again!” you call back, beaming up at Sunghoon in a way that makes his stomach flutter even though it doesn’t meet your eyes. 
The two of you don’t talk at all when you get home, with you hugging his parents goodnight and running up the stairs. 
“She’s not feeling too well,” he explains, nodding when his dad tells him to make you some tea. 
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His parents spend the whole day at work, and you spend the whole day following him around like a shadow until the evening when they return. He doesn’t pretend not to like it.
Sunghoon helps you make dinner, turning leftover rice into fried rice with the help of some eggs and vegetables. It’s nice moving around the kitchen with you, watching you scramble eggs in his t-shirt and bump his hip with a playful frown when he eats some of the peppers you’re chopping. 
His parents watch from the table, cooing over the two of you and he does his best to fight the blush forming on his cheeks and neck. Embarrassed, he hugs you from behind, hiding his face in your neck—the scent of your coconut conditioner mixing with your vanilla perfume doesn’t do anything to stop the flush. 
Over a bottle of wine, the four of you eat together at the table, swapping stories about your days. Sunghoon tries to hide his surprise as you lie about the time you spent at the play park by your primary school, competing for height on the swings and spinning on the roundabout until you couldn’t stand up. You grin at him, and it meets your eyes as you hold his hand under the table, and kiss his cheek.
After eating, his parents head upstairs, leaving to clean up together. You hum a song he’s never heard as you load the dishwasher, carefully placing the plates and cutlery in the rack, shaking your head when he hands you the glasses you’d used. 
“Leave ours,” you say. “If you want.” 
Sunghoon nods, putting them back on the table, where you sit in the seat across from the one he was sitting in. He sits too, staying quiet rather than saying the wrong thing. You don’t speak either. It’s reminiscent of the past—the hours you’d spend in the same room, only speaking to share a funny post you’d come across or to ask if you were hungry. 
His eyes track your movements—reaching for the half-empty bottle on the table to pour yourself another glass, filling it to the brim. Before putting it down, you offer him some, filling his glass too when he nods. The three glasses of wine he’s already had must be the reason he wants to reach across the table and hold your hand, run his thumb over the soft skin on the back of it. 
Sunghoon doesn’t know why you’ve been so nice to him all day or why it makes his chest hurt. 
“You know you don’t have to be nice to me when we’re alone, right?” The words come out before he can stop them.
Over the top of your glass, your brows knit together. A sound of confusion, a low hum, comes from your throat as you try to finish your sip. “What?” you ask finally. 
“I only asked you to do this because of my parents, you know? You don’t have to sit or talk with me when they’re not around.” 
Sunghoon’s known you long enough to recognise the look that flashes across your face. The way your eyes narrow and your brows tug together, the little pout that sets on your lips before you speak; you’re hurt.
“Why can’t I just be nice to you because it’s the right thing to do?” 
Because it hurts, is what he wants to say. He wants to cry, to beg you to forget everything he said that day. “Because I don’t want to make you any more uncomfortable than I already have.” Is what he settles for. 
Your face softens. “I don’t feel uncomfortable around you, Hoon. We were best friends for ages, I don’t think you could ever make me uncomfortable.” You pause to take a gulp of wine. “Why can’t I just want to be nice to you?” 
Sunghoon has to chew on his cheek to distract himself from how much your word choice stings. The implications of were and all of your past tense. “I’m sorry,” he says. 
“What for?” 
“Everything.” 
There’s a sadness in the way you run your fingers on the base of your glass. The way you chew on your lip, how your hair falls when you tilt your head and how it moves when you shake it. “It’s not your fault,” you say. “I don’t know anyone who would choose to have unrequited feelings for their best friend.” 
Wow, he thinks. You’re on a roll. Sunghoon wonders if you’re meticulously choosing your phrasing to upset him. Wonders why you feel the need to remind him that his feelings aren’t reciprocated as if he didn’t live through and spend hours reliving the day he confessed. 
“But I didn’t have to tell you about it. It was unfair of me to spring that on you when I knew about Yeonjun.” 
“Did you.. did you think I was going to leave him for you?” 
“Maybe?” Sunghoon chews on his lip—he has no idea what he thought would happen. “I think I thought I loved you enough for both of us, that you might play the part for fun or out of curiosity, and.. I don’t know, just learn to love me.”
“Hoon,” you whisper, frowning. “How could you even think about settling for something like that?” 
Sunghoon shrugs. “It’s not settling if it’s you.” 
Silence takes a seat at the table after he speaks, interrupted only by the ticking clock on the wall—a glittery mess of scrapbooking paper and washi tape layered over each other that Yeji had decorated at summer camp years ago. You’re picking at your fingernails, letting flecks of black polish fall to the table, stark against the varnished oak. 
“I know it’s not my place to ask,” Sunghoon starts after a while, hesitant and only continuing when you nod. “But what did Yeonjun say when you told him? About.. everything?” 
You take a long sip from your glass and sit quietly for so long that he thinks you’re not going to answer him—he doesn’t blame you. 
“I didn’t.” 
He waits for you to elaborate. You don’t. 
Sunghoon nods slowly, deciding not to ask any follow-up questions. Instead, he takes another drink, scrunching his nose at the bitter taste. “He didn’t ask why we stopped hanging out?” he blurts out.
“I told him we fell out but I didn’t say why.” You shrug, but your posture is stiff. 
“Where did you tell him you were going to be this week?” He knows it’s not his business at all, that he’s pushing your boundaries, but he can’t help his curiosity.
“Nowhere.” 
“You told him you were staying on campus?” 
“I didn’t tell him anything.” Your gaze shifts, avoiding his as you toy with the stem of your glass. You drum your nails against it, letting the dull clink ring out. 
“So you just left?” 
“Does it make a difference to you?” 
Sunghoon nods.
For a while, you tug at the drawstrings on your hoodie, pursing your lips to the side, considering this. “Yeonjun and I aren’t together anymore.” Your admission is so shocking that Sunghoon’s jaw drops. He tries to cover his surprise by coughing, his tongue sticking out like a small child. “I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want you to think it was because of you.” 
Sunghoon’s thoughts move at lightspeed, too fast for him to catch onto any of them and process this information. His emotions compete with each other—disbelief, guilt, and a painful glimmer of hope he hadn’t dared to acknowledge until now all at the forefront. 
“Was it?” he asks. “Because of me?” 
You scoff—an incredulous sound that doesn’t match the sad look on your face. “I don’t know, Sunghoon. Do you think my boyfriend used me to make his ex jealous because of you?”
He’s not sure what he expected you to say, but this is.. Complete disbelief eclipses him as his heart sinks in his chest, shock, and guilt bubbling in his stomach. 
“I’m sorry,” he says after too long. “That I wasn’t there. That I haven’t been there.” 
“You didn’t know,” you say, gaze softening as you look up at him. 
“But I made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about it.” 
You shake your head. “I made me feel like I couldn’t talk to you about it. All you did was change the friendship, I’m the one who ended it.”
“I still should’ve been there.” 
“You’re here now, right?” 
Sunghoon nods, earnestly. “Always.” 
Only one thing comes to mind when you repeat the word ‘always’ before taking a sip from your glass, downing its contents. Sunghoon gets up and crosses the room with wobbly steps to open the fridge, where he pulls out as many bottles of soju as he can hold in his hands and puts them down on the table. He goes back to collect some glasses from the cabinet, puts some of the leftover fried rice from dinner into the microwave, and brings it all over when it’s done, with bowls and utensils. You watch him with a fond smile as he opens a bottle and he hopes you think the flush on his cheeks is from all the drinking you’ve been doing. 
“Is it bad that I’ve missed doing this?” You’re grinning now.
Sunghoon shakes his head, raising his glass. “To YN’s fifteenth heartbreak.” 
You grin, clinking the rim of your glass against his. “To YN’s fifteenth heartbreak,” you repeat. 
Both of you down the glasses, and Sunghoon refills them, pouring the soju with an oddly steady hand. As you eat spoonfuls of rice and sip your drinks, silence settles over the room. The soft glow of the kitchen lights forms a warm ambience, a cosy familiarity that brings up simple memories—doing homework together at the table while gossiping about your classmates, the first New Year after you were both eighteen and had your first drink with his parents. 
For at least an hour, the only sounds are the occasional clinks of forks against bowls, glasses hitting the table, the faint hum of the refrigerator and the steady tick of Yeji’s clock. Sunghoon’s eyes meet yours, and he can’t help but notice the slight change in your expression when they do. 
You clear your throat, running a hand through your hair. “This is my sixteenth, actually.” 
“What?” 
You take a small sip of soju, staring down at the table. “My fifteenth heartbreak was losing you. Yeonjun is my sixteenth.”
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In the two days since your soju ceremony, Sunghoon finds himself sinking into the role of your boyfriend like a hot bath. But there’s no use pretending it doesn’t hurt. Pretending it doesn’t hurt when you kiss his cheek before bed, or when you reach out to push the hair out of his face or snuggle into his side on the couch; because it does hurt—a lot. It hurts to think that in three days when you put your bags in the boot of his car, you’ll sit in silence all the way home. When he drops you off at your flat, you’ll close the door in his face and stop talking to him again. These realisations are harder to confront when he’s alone in his room, like now. 
About an hour ago, you asked if you could borrow his car, saying there was something you needed to do on your own. It seemed important, so he handed over his keys with no question. Sighing, Sunghoon gets up from his bed and heads to the shower, where he jerks off to clear his mind. On his way back to his room, he notices the light leaking from the open kitchen door that illuminates the landing. 
He hears the lock on the front door clicking, and stands at the top of the stairs, dripping water onto the carpet while listening attentively. His ears perk up when he hears a gasp—his mother. 
“What’s this for?” she asks. 
“I just..” You trail off. “I know it’s not much, but I wanted to thank you both for always looking after me.” You pause, and Sunghoon holds his breath, waiting. Your voice trembles as you continue. “It’s been hard since my parents went back home, and I guess it was still hard when they were here, but you both supported me. I don’t think I could’ve managed without you guys. I want to make you guys proud, you know? And I’m trying, really, so this is me saying thank you. I’m sorry it took me so long.” 
He grips the railing by the landing, digging his nails into the wood until they start hurting—an ache in his fingertips that makes him wince. 
An odd feeling settles in his stomach, a bittersweetness tinged in his fondness for you, and the gentle shock of realising how much his parents have done for you. Growing up, you became an honorary member of Sunghoon’s family. His parents showered you with gifts during holidays and birthdays, which you often celebrated with them rather than your own family. 
The memory of your parents’ sudden decision to move across the country still lingers, and Sunghoon vividly recalls the tearful conversation he overheard at the top of the stairs. Your parents understood the enormity of their request but had earnestly asked if Sunghoon’s parents could continue looking after you. 
His chest tightens when you start crying. 
“You don’t have to thank us for anything, sweetie. Just you being here and taking care of our boy is more than enough thanks. You never forget our birthdays, and you always come and visit when you can. You’re doing a great job, and you should give yourself some credit,” his dad says, a little choked up. “We’ve always been proud of you.” 
Sunghoon’s eyes sting with tears and his skin gets dry in the spots where the water from the shower is evaporating. He presses his fingers to his closed eyes, forcing a few tears to fall and walks the rest of the way to his room with his eyes shut. He can’t hear anything through his closed bedroom door, which he decides is a good thing as he coats himself in moisturiser and swipes deodorant under his arms with intention to spend the whole night alone. Once he’s dressed, he gets into bed and pretends not to be bothered by the way his wet hair dampens his pillow. Under the duvet, he tosses and turns before sighing and heading to Yeji’s room.
In her absence, the room’s subtle transformation is stark. The sage green-painted walls, once a backdrop to the A3 faces of Wave to Earth and Beabadoobee, now bear the faint imprints of those missing posters. Tiny, shadowy rectangles are the only remnants of the 6x4-sized pictures of her and her friends, of her and Sunghoon, that she took away with her to school.
Her hairdryer is still on her desk where she’d left it for him to use and he sits in her stiff wooden chair, plugging it in. The airflow starts immediately, hot and loud, humming throughout the space as he runs his fingers through his wet hair, feeling cosy under the heat. His shampoo is fresh and soapy scented under his nose, and his reflection watches him in Yeji’s mirror, eyes red and concerned while his hair blows around his head. Sunghoon closes his eyes and finishes his hair, sighing as he lets his worries slip under the whir of the fan. 
Finished, he shuts off the dryer and opens his eyes, flinching at your reflection in the doorway behind him with a soft smile on your face. “Mum and Dad are going to open a bottle of wine if you want to join,” you say, meeting his eyes in the mirror. 
Sunghoon can’t find it in himself to speak, only nodding in response. You smile wider but don’t move. He unplugs the hairdryer and leaves it on the desk where he found it before crossing the room. Without giving himself a chance to think about it, he pulls you into a hug and kisses the top of your head, smiling into your hair when you wrap your arms around his waist, holding him closer. 
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You’re sitting on the edge of the bathtub, mumbling sleepily that you’re never going to drink again, and Sunghoon leans over the sink brushing his teeth, he’s glad you have the decency to cover your mouth as you speak. 
“Brush your teeth and go back to sleep then,” he mumbles around his toothbrush. 
You don’t respond. 
Sunghoon sighs through his nose, spitting foamy toothpaste into the sink, leaving bubbly, blue splatters on the porcelain. “And quit staring at me, I can feel your beady little eyes on the back of my neck and it’s freaking me out.” 
“But you’re so pretty,” you coo. 
There’s a flutter in his stomach and he rinses off the sink and his mouth, buying himself some time. With a hand on the Listerine, he lifts his gaze to meet yours in the mirror and stops short. You’re still staring at him, features soft and glowing under the afternoon light. You look like an angel; a gentle smile spreading over your lips, and a sleepy glint sparkling in your eyes, wide and gorgeous as you watch him. Sunghoon gulps, mumbling his thanks and looking back at himself. He hopes you can’t see the flush on his cheeks. 
“Go back to sleep,” he says. 
“Will you come and lie down with me if I do?” Your voice is a sleepy drawl, coming out in a slow, high-pitched slur, and your eyes are closing on themselves. 
Lying down doesn’t sound like a terrible idea, especially not if it’s with you, so he nods. “If you brush your teeth, then yeah, baby, I’ll lie down with you.” 
You chuckle softly at Sunghoon’s agreement, the sound carrying a mix of exhaustion and genuine amusement, showing no repulsion to him calling you the B-word. He didn’t mean to, it’s been a confusing few days. You nod, saluting to him and getting up to join him by the sink, using your hip to bump him out of the way, but he feels like he’s glued to the spot. 
“Move, baby,” you mumble sleepily, reaching for your toothbrush. “We can cuddle in my bed,” you suggest, to which Sunghoon only nods, taking your words as a cue to unstick his feet from the floor and go to your room, playing the word ‘baby’ on a loop in his head. 
He stands in the doorway staring at your bed, the duvet is all crumpled in the middle, and the pillows are in an L shape at the top corner. He sighs, he can’t go on like this, can’t stand around hoping even a tiny part of you called him ‘baby’ and it meant something for you as it did for him. It’s not fair for him to project his feelings on you like this, but he can’t help it. You’re already pretending for his parents, so would it be so bad to pretend for his sake as well? Even if only until the day after tomorrow when you leave? 
The sound of the bathroom door shutting behind you snaps him out of his thoughts, your bright smile making his heart race when you tug him by the sleeve to your bed where the mattress dips underneath you as you curl into his form, resting your head on his chest and falling asleep. You’ve shared the bed before, countless times, but he knows you’ve only asked him because you’re tired. Because your brain is foggy with drowsiness that clouds your judgement, not because you want him there, not because you miss him when he’s two doors down the hall, tossing and turning at night thinking about you. He wonders absently if you can feel his aching heart beating through his chest, a painful, yet all too familiar rhythm that pulls his own eyes shut, plunging him into a deep sleep too.
It’s dark in the room when he wakes up, the sun already down behind the curtains and the soft yellow of the bedside lamp casting a glow around the space. You’re staring up at him, smiling and you don’t look away when he catches you. “What is it?” he asks, voice thick with sleep. 
“Nothing,” you mumble. “I just missed you.” Sunghoon has no time to respond or even register what you said before you clear your throat, speaking again.  “Come on, dad’s cooking tonight, he’ll need help.” 
Helping Sunghoon’s dad with dinner always looks an awful lot like Sunghoon eating snacks on the kitchen counter and staring at you as you help his dad cook. Tonight is no exception, he’s sitting on the island, and his snack of choice is a family pack of Chilli Heatwave Doritos his mum bought for Yeji. He’ll have to remember to replace them before leaving seeing as he’s reaching the halfway point. 
You go back and forth with his dad about measurements, with you rummaging through the drawers for measuring cups while his dad says it’s best to trust your gut. Reluctantly, you nod, chewing the inside of your cheek as you watch him eyeball the seasoning. 
The gas stove turns the kitchen into an oven, and you complain about it while opening a window, pulling your hoodie over your head and leaving it in Sunghoon’s lap. Time stops when you grin at him, the light from the stove hood illuminating the necklace you’re wearing, his initial resting on your chest and glowing under the light. He chokes around a crisp when he sees it, catching your attention with his coughing. 
“You’ll spoil your dinner, snacking like that, baby,” you scold, using a hand to push his knee. “We’re almost done, I swear.” 
All he can do is nod, cheeks burning as he folds the crisp packet over before putting it back in the bread bin where he found it. 
“Wow,” his dad says, resting his hands on his hips and shaking his head in amusement. “Being in love looks good on him, he’d never have listened if I said that.” 
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It’s already your last day when Sunghoon picks up Yeji from school. She grumbles for the entire half-hour drive and all the way to the front door about why the two of you couldn’t have started the trip today instead of ending it, but all of her irritation dissolves when she sees you in the hallway, leaving the front door wide open to fling her arms around you. You and Yeji exchange compliments for a while — You look so pretty. No, you look so pretty. I love your hair. I love your hair. — as Sunghoon locks the door and watches with a smile.
“God.” Yeji sighs, holding you by the waist and craning her neck up to look at you, as you push some of her hair from her face, pinning back her wispy bangs with the palm of your hand. Yeji giggles. “I’m so happy you two are together, even though I have no idea what a girl like you sees in my loser brother.” 
Sunghoon rolls his eyes, leaning back against the wall. Despite his mild irritation at Yeji’s words, he finds the sight of you with her so adorable his stomach flutters. Over the top of Yeji’s head, you look at him with a fond smile. “He’s not so bad.” 
It doesn’t sound like a compliment, but Sunghoon takes it to heart. 
Like always, Yeji manages to capture your undivided attention and the two of you giggle and whisper with each other all afternoon while Sunghoon watches, too enamoured by the sight to care about being left out. An hour or so passes like this, until his parents get home from work, excited to see Yeji after a few weeks, and you leave her side, coming to cuddle with Sunghoon instead. 
It’s nice being home with everyone, laughing and sharing a meal before his family walks the two of you to his car with at least a month’s worth of cooked food for you to share at university. Yeji makes you pinky promise that she can visit you and waves with a pout on her face until the car is out of view.
Contrary to what he’d been expecting, the drive back is nice. Your playlist is on, and you’re telling him about all the new songs you added, catching him up on things with Chaewon and Yunjin, and all the things you got up to in the time you spent apart. You tell him about a new café that opened up near your place and how you’ll have to go together when he has the time, and Sunghoon bites his tongue before telling you that he always has time for you. The first half of the trip goes on like this but you start dozing off around the halfway mark, your sentences becoming few and far between, eventually turning into half-mumbled thoughts that end prematurely. 
You’re still asleep when he reaches your flat, head propped up against the window with your soft lips parted, looking too pretty and cosy to wake up. Instead, he drives in circles around your block, deciding to wait for you to wake up on your own. It only takes a half-hour but you blink your eyes open, stretching your neck before looking around and out the car window, recognising the street. You don’t say anything, only smiling when you look at him, a small curve of your lips that makes his heart race.
He gets out of the car with you, opening the boot to get your bag before pulling you into his chest for a hug, liking the way your arms settle around his waist. “Thank you,” he mumbles into your hair. 
Sunghoon doesn’t follow you when you take your bag from him, only watching from the back of his car. You don’t notice until you reach the main door, looking over your shoulder and frowning at him. “Aren’t you going to walk me up?” 
The two of you walk in silence up four flights of stairs as the lift in your building is out of order. Your bag feels much heavier in his hand now than it did outside. At your door, he watches you dig around for your keys, sighing with relief when you find them. 
“Do you want to come in?” you ask from your open doorway.
“I—uh—I have training in the morning and I’m already pretty tired, so..” He trails off.
Unfazed, you nod. “Right, of course. I had fun this week.” 
“Yeah, me too.” 
You smile at him, sweet and sincere. “Text me when you get home, yeah?” 
Sunghoon nods, saying goodbye. Out of habit, he doesn’t leave your doorstep until he hears the lock click shut, and walks back to his car with his head down. 
True to his word, he sends you a text to let you know he got back to his place safely and you read it immediately but don’t reply. It’s empty in the apartment, Jake is out with his football team and the space is larger than usual in his absence. Far too tired to even consider going out and joining him, Sunghoon goes through his night routine, putting his phone on the charger and stepping into the shower where he spends entirely too long wishing he could live in this week forever as he scrubs his body. With brushed teeth and damp hair, he goes back into his room where his phone lights up with a notification; a text, from you.
YN🫀: i’m glad you got home okay, i just got into bed :) i don’t want to make you uncomfortable or overstep or anything and you can say no (obviously).. i’ve been missing you so much and didn’t know how to reach out or if you wanted me to but i had soooo much fun this week and spending time with you again made me happy, so i’d like it if we could keep hanging out, like before yk? ik it’s a long shot ahahaha but just say you’ll think about it? 
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hoonie: You’re not overstepping at all, I’ve missed you too, so bad. I had soooo much fun this week as well and I’d like it a lot if we kept hanging out, thank you for agreeing and coming along 😚 If you’re free after Lit tmrw you could come over? Or we could go out and do something, whatever you prefer
hoonie: I missed you so much.. 
hoonie: 🤍
The texts greet you as the first rays of Monday morning light filter into your room, instantly lifting your mood. Your bright smile doesn’t escape Chaewon’s notice as you find her in the kitchen, bathed in the soft light seeping through the sheer curtains. The kettle is boiling with a loud rumble that fills the whole room and leaves her yelling as she speaks to you. 
“Good trip?” she asks, coming over and hugging you. “Never leave me for that long again,” she mumbles into your shirt. 
“It was a week, Wonie,” you say, rolling your eyes even though you missed her too. 
She leans away, looking at you with knitted brows. “It was nine days.” 
“The longest of my life.” 
Chaewon pulls air through her teeth, tilting her head and releasing you. “That bad, huh?” she asks, walking back to her seat at your tiny square table and shooting you a look that tells you to join her. 
During your trip, you gave her nightly updates over text, so you know she knows how much you enjoyed yourself, but you elaborate anyway, sitting across from her. 
“No, not at all,” you say, shaking your head and trying to fight a smile. “I had fun.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you have to bite your bottom lip to stop the grin curving them; it doesn’t work. 
Chaewon raises a suggestive brow, crossing her arms over her chest. “How much fun?” 
“You’re disgusting.” 
“I didn’t even say anything!” she defends, holding her hands up. “I made an implication. It was only a matter of time, you two have that whole.. lifelong best friends to lifelong lovers thing going on, and it’s hot.” 
“Shut up.” 
“You’re telling me, you spent nine days playing lovers with Sunghoon and you still don’t want him? You’re a lost cause, people would kill for that chance,” she says, tilting her head. “I think I would kill for that chance.” 
“Don’t touch him.”
“Oh?” 
“Jesus, Chaewon, it’s not like that. Hoon’s too sensitive for your roster.” 
“I never said it was like anything, you’re the one who’s dangling me over the ledge for saying I want to fuck your hot best friend.” 
“Sunghoon isn’t hot; he’s..” You find yourself at a loss for words, unsure how to continue your lie. Of course, Sunghoon is hot, you’ve known since you were seventeen and spent the summer at your grandparents’ house, only to come back to find your previously scrawny best friend having ditched his LEGOs for dumbbells. You sigh. “Just leave him alone.”
Chaewon grins, eyes sparkling as she leaves the table. “Okay,” she says in a singsong voice, leaving you and the irritation in your stomach alone in the kitchen.
You sigh, pressing your eyes shut and trying to will away your discomfort. It’s not like Chaewon would actually try anything with Sunghoon. Right? Even if she did, it wouldn’t bother you, nor would it be any of your business. They’re grownups and reserve the right to explore their options. Still, there’s a nagging feeling you can’t shake, an uninvited guest in the back of your mind. 
When you check your phone, you realise you have half an hour before you need to head to campus, so you leave to get ready and text Sunghoon back on the way to your room.
you: sounds good, see u later 🤍
After showering, you stand in front of your wardrobe, towel hanging from your body as you pick an outfit. For some reason, you feel under pressure, picking a pair of jeans that do the most for your ass and a low-cut top that Sunghoon once — drunkenly — said he loved on you.
You have the residual sting of mouthwash on your tongue, and one foot out the door when your phone vibrates in your hand. 
hoonie: Do you want to head to class together? 
you: sure! i’m omw out, where should i get you? 
hoonie: .. I’m outside your building :D 
Breathing a laugh through your nose, you don’t fight the giddy smile on your face as you make your way downstairs to meet Sunghoon. Through the glass in the main door, he’s standing at the edge of the pavement and kicking a stone between his feet. The top of his puffer jacket covers the bottom half of his face, and the draught nips your skin when the door opens. Two girls you vaguely recognise stumble in with smudged makeup and heels in their hands, smiling at you while holding the door to let you out.
“Hey!” you call out, jogging over to him. 
Sunghoon turns around, his head poking out of his jacket to grin at you, holding a travel cup and an abundance of tinfoil in your direction. 
“I wasn’t sure if you’d have eaten anything yet, you don’t normally in the morning,” he says, a sheepish smile spreading over his lips when you take it. “Matcha. Ham and cheese toastie.” 
“Did you make these?” you ask, inspecting the familiar cup and appreciating the warmth it provides. 
He hums, nodding his head.
You ignore the heat spreading over your cheeks and thank him with a hug, grinning when he offers to hold your drink while you eat on the walk. The toastie is still hot, the cheese coming close to burning your tongue as you chew, but you appreciate it wholeheartedly, humming contently with each bite. When you’re done, you shove the foil into your pocket, taking your drink from him and smiling around the sweet taste of a matcha latte as he tells you about his schedule for the day. 
“I’m meeting with Coach after class to talk about my grades, but I’m all yours after that.” 
“Talk about your grades? What’s wrong with your grades?” 
Sunghoon groans, head falling back and highlighting the bump of his Adam’s apple. “My grades are.. I failed my coursework this month, so I have resubmissions during finals, and I think he’ll bench me if I fail again.” 
He sounds like he’s being serious, and if the look on his face is anything to go by, he is. The news creases your brows because for as long as you remember, Sunghoon’s grades were your parents’ favourite point of comparison.
“Really?” you ask. He nods. “What’s up? Is something the matter?” 
A humourless laugh slips out of him before he pulls air through his teeth. “Yeah, my best friend didn’t talk to me for three months.” 
“Oh..” Guilt stirs your stomach as you look up at him. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not blaming you, it’s not like I was trying to talk and you ignored me.” He nudges your arm with his elbow, giving you a warm smile. “But if you feel as guilty about it as you look, you can tutor me for Lit.” 
“Deal.” 
Sunghoon grins, wrapping his arm over your shoulders and holding you close; the action itself isn’t unusual, but the increased heart rate it brings about is. “You’re too good to me,” he says, holding onto you for the rest of the walk to class.
At his request, you sit with Sunghoon in the back row, watching as the lecture hall gradually fills up in front of you. He seems well-prepared, with his laptop and a small notepad and pen neatly arranged on the desk in front of him.
Throughout the class, your eyes inadvertently track his every move. He diligently types up colour-coded notes, occasionally pausing to write things in his notepad before continuing to type or stopping entirely to listen. There’s something melodic about his actions and the way his fingers run over the keyboard. 
During a five-minute break, you glance at his screen. What you find is more than just lecture content; it’s a document adorned with Sunghoon’s own musings about Hemingway’s style and carefully analysed quotations that go beyond the class discussion.
“How are your notes so good?” 
“I picked up the book over the summer when you mentioned it,” Sunghoon replies with a shrug, a shy smile playing on his lips as he leans back in his seat. “I liked it.” 
A slow nod is your response, though your thoughts swirl like autumn leaves in a breeze. The last time Sunghoon read for leisure, you were in primary school, buddy reading Diary of a Wimpy Kid. But this—this is different. You can’t help but stare at him, awestruck as you take him in. His eyes are wide, shining amber in the sunlight as he pushes some of his hair from his face, frowning when it falls back where it was. 
“Don’t look at me like that,” he mumbles. 
Sunghoon takes a new line in his document and points at the screen where you watch the cursor move through the words he’s typing: I would’ve read and annotated the Bible if you wanted me to..
There’s no time to digest what he wrote or the funny feeling in your chest as you reread it before he deletes the whole sentence, pressing his lips together and looking out the window. Speechless, you stare at his side profile, willing your heart rate to slip back to normal. Steep-sloping nose, plump lips flattened into a line, two points of the triangular mole constellation on his face. Analysis worsens your condition, breath hitching in your throat before stopping entirely. Warmth and trepidation blend within you, fuzzy enough at the edges to seem like one thing—a single force that makes your palm itch with desire, desperation, to reach out and run a finger over his features, feel the bump of the mole on his nose — the most prominent — against your skin. 
You remain this way — silent, watching — even when your lecturer resumes the lesson, and Sunghoon starts typing, writing, and listening again. Polite enough to pretend he doesn’t notice your gaze searing into his face.
After class, and his meeting with Coach, you let Sunghoon lead the conversation and the way to your flat, where you find Chaewon and Yunjin sitting on the couch, whispering to themselves while the two of you study at the coffee table. It’s uncomfortable, an awkward height, too high for the way you’re sitting but you feel calm under the supervision of Chaewon and Yunjin—you won’t do anything to merit teasing in front of them, no matter how badly you want to feel Sunghoon’s face in your hands or stroke his cheekbones with your thumbs. 
To the best of your ability, you answer the questions he has for you—he’d written a ton in his tiny notepad during class, his own concerns clear with each neatly-penned iteration of: How to see actions/dialogue for what they are and not what I want them to be? written in the margins and you try not to feel heartbroken for him.
Three hours have passed by when you walk him to the door, the two of you wrapped up in a bubble so secure you’re surprised to find Chaewon and Yunjin still sitting on the couch. They don’t say anything about Sunghoon in his absence, or the fact he’d given you his sweater when he noticed you were cold. You’re not sure why their silence disappoints you.
Instead, Yunjin asks you about trivial things like dinner while Chaewon sits in silence. 
“What flavour for ice cream?” Yunjin asks, rolling her eyes when you tug on the blanket but not complaining. “And don’t say something ridiculous like mint chocolate, YN.” 
“That happened once! And it was three years ago.. How was I supposed to know you hate fun?” 
Chaewon leans into you, letting you curl your limbs around her from behind as you rest your chin on her shoulder, liking the way her clean scent tickles your nose. 
“Mint-cho isn’t that bad,” she starts. “It’s a little jarring, sure, but it’s kind of sweet. Like watching people come to terms with their feelings for each other.”��
You nod your head, humming in understanding and furrowing your brows when Yunjin scoffs, staring straight at you. Her tone is equal parts cutting and loving, so you know she’s not trying to insult you, but don’t know what she means when she says, “It must be so nice to be as oblivious as you.” 
Yunjin never elaborates, and you never ask, actually feeling the statement’s journey in through one of your ears and out the other when dinner arrives. The three of you share pizza, ice cream, and secrets — the three pillars of 20-something-teenage-girlhood — at the kitchen table, with Chaewon sitting in your lap and picking pepperoni from your slices. 
It’s only hours after Yunijn’s gone home, that her words circle back to you, the statement and all of its weight perching on your chest with all the debilitation and persistence of a sleep paralysis demon.
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“I think I’m getting sick,” you say as soon as she opens her door. “It’s been coming on for a while now, at least a week, maybe more.” 
Unimpressed and exhausted, Yunjin looks down at you through half-closed eyes. “Do you..” She pinches the bridge of her nose, sighing. “Do you have any idea what time it is right now?” 
“Yes. It’s three a.m.” 
“Exactly. See a doctor if you’re sick, I’m going back to sleep.”
“This is an emergen—” Yunjin cuts you off by pinching your lips together. “It’s three in the morning,” she reminds you. “You can’t yell like that in my hallway, come in.” 
You nod, crossing the threshold and taking off your shoes next to hers. “Sorry,” you whisper when the door is closed. 
Using her hand, Yunjin lifts your chin, squinting as her eyes adjust to the light when she flips the switch to inspect your face. “You don’t look or sound sick,” she mutters, flicking the light back off and going to her room. “What are your symptoms? And why did you come here?” 
You don’t have an answer for her last question so you ignore it, following her and tripping over a pair of her shoes in the process. “My cheeks start burning like crazy and my heart races, sometimes it gets hard to breathe.”
“You seem fine to me.” 
A shoulder-slumping sigh slips from your lips. “That’s the thing. I’ll be fine and then Sunghoon shows up with his pretty smile and perfect hair and I feel like I’ve run a marathon.” You know how it sounds, choosing your wording meticulously to let Yunjin be the one to say the words out loud instead of you—it’ll be easier to confront that way. 
From the doorway, you watch as she arches a brow, her interest piqued. “Oh?” 
“I know.” You nod, head bobbing rapidly in furious agreement. “It’s only a matter of time before I cough up a lung and die in his bedroom.”
At your words, Yunjin doesn't reply, only lifting her duvet and getting cosy underneath. You feel like you’re glued to the spot, waiting for her to say something, anything, but nothing comes. All she does is pat the empty spot in her bed. 
“What are you smirking for?” you ask, entering the room properly and closing the door. 
Her response only comes after you’ve taken your jacket and hoodie off, sitting next to her under the covers. “It’s nothing,” she says, laughing. 
“Tell me.” 
Yunjin sighs, resting a hand gently on your shoulder. You think it’s meant to be comforting but it’s the opposite. “You’ll be fine, I promise. Lovesickness isn’t deadly.” 
Feeling the weight of her reassurance, you settle down properly and sigh when your head hits the pillow. Lovesickness. Hmm. 
Closing your eyes, you try to sleep but can’t help tossing and turning as Yunjin snores behind you. You pat blindly around the end table for your phone, grabbing it and wincing at the brightness of your screen. Chewing on your lip, you open Google, looking up ‘lovesickness’ and frowning immediately at the results. Endless negativity fills the screen, terrifying words like ‘unrequited love’ forming a pit in your stomach. There’s nothing negative about what you feel for Sunghoon, nothing unrequited—you think. 
It was obvious during the trip, painfully so. In the way he’d tuck your hair behind your ear when his parents weren’t there to see, or how he slipped up and called you ‘baby’ in the bathroom, blushing when you said it back. You can’t fake something like that.. Can you?
Yeonjun did.
Shaking your head, you open Instagram to distract yourself. Jake’s story comes up first; he’s at a party where Jay is losing a game of beer pong, and at the other end of the table is Sunghoon grinning with a bright red lipstick kiss on his cheek. You lock your phone, using your hands to press on your belly to stop the stirring. 
Oh, you think. Lovesickness. 
When you wake up, the first thing you do is check Jake’s story again. The video is still there and that terrible stir in your stomach churns on, burrowing deeply into a pit of canyon-like proportion—so vast there’s a safety railing lining its edges. 
You eat breakfast in silence with Yunjin, zoning out mid-chew to figure out the origin of these feelings and how to handle them. Suddenly, the moment hits you clear as day, vivid like you’re watching it on a screen—it was your third night at his parents’ house, after your walk. 
You felt bad about how you acted, and what you said, so went straight up to your room. With nothing but the bedside lamp turned on, it was dimly lit, shadows cast on the walls as you sulked, replaying everything in your head. Guilt wrapped its long arms around your body, making you feel sick as you thought about it all. About the hurt etched over his face with every word you said, and the frown that stuck around for the rest of the walk as his hand clung limply to yours. 
There was a knock at the door, so gentle you almost missed it, and Sunghoon was standing there when you pulled it open, chewing on his lip with a mug in his hand. Steam skated over the opening, a rich chocolatey smell hitting your nose but the real kicker was the mug itself. In its place on Jake and Sunghoon’s mug tree, it was unassuming, a regular white mug, but upon meeting hot water, the face of young Sunghoon appeared, grinning with his tiny glasses on. It was a gift from one of his old coaches and though he never used it, it was your absolute favourite cup in the world. 
You felt soft around the edges when you looked up at him, his eyes wide and unsure as you met his gaze—he brought that mug three hours across the country so you could use it again. The thought shifted your heart into a comfortable position, settling in your chest with overwhelming warmth and an increased rate. 
“Hi,” you said, clearing your throat. 
“Hi,” he repeated, holding the mug out for you to take. “It’s still hot so be careful.” 
Nodding, you covered your hands with your sleeves, taking the cup from him and asking if he wanted to come in. Sunghoon nodded, shutting the door behind him and standing by the bed, watching you set the hot chocolate on the bedside table as you sat down. The two of you stayed like that for a while, with him only moving when you patted the spot next to you on the duvet. Your train of thought escaped you as soon as he sat down, the warmth of his familiar fresh, citrusy scent taking over and becoming the only thing you could register. The smell of summers with him, long days at the beach and short nights spent on the couch at random parties, cuddled into his side with his arm over your shoulders. The smell you’d come to associate with comfort and home—with Sunghoon. 
“It’s not fair for me to treat you like shit just because I’m annoyed, I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that earlier. I’m sorry.” 
A crease ran over Sunghoon’s thick brows as they tugged together, he shook his head. “You don’t have to apologise. I roped you into this whole thing and didn’t even try to think about how you would feel. I’m sorry.” His eyes carried a mix of regret and sincerity, mirroring the weight of his words.
“Anyway, I only came to bring you that,” he said, pointing at the cup. “And to check up on you, I’ll get out of your hair for tonight.” Sunghoon wiped his palms on his pants before standing up, reaching behind him to pick up the cloth he brought. For a moment, he stood there, staring down at it in his hand while you thought about telling him to stay, telling him that you wanted him in your hair—whatever that meant. But he spoke before you had the chance. “You left this, at mine, after.. well, you know. I’m sure you left it intentionally, I mean it was folded up perfectly on the end of my bed, so I know you did, but it didn’t feel right keeping it, you always wore it more than me.” 
Sunghoon extended his hand, holding it out to you and you knew exactly what it was as soon as the fabric touched your skin after so long. It was the shirt Jay bought him for Christmas in first year—they were roommates still trying to get a feel for each other. For a few weeks, Sunghoon had been pestering you about what he should get for Jay, saying it didn’t feel right not to get him anything, and you suggested a targeted t-shirt, one you’d been laughing at all day after seeing an ad for it on your timeline. Sunghoon was sceptical, but bought the red shirt anyway, hoping Jay would find BEING DAD IS AN HONOUR, BEING PAPA IS PRICELESS funny. He did. And Jay bought Sunghoon a targeted shirt too, your favourite. It was black and two sizes too big, with I NEVER DREAMED I’D BE A SEXY FIGURE SKATER BUT HERE I AM KILLING IT written over the chest. 
“Goodnight, YN,” Sunghoon said, crossing the room to leave but hesitating before closing the door. He poked his head through the opening and sighed. “I really am sorry.”
That night, you fell asleep in the shirt, the thinning, yet cosy, fabric wrapped around you like a hug as your heart started to beat a new rhythm, one that eerily echoed the five-foot-eleven figure skater who you let break it. 
This morning, Yunjin claps her hands in your face, seeming irritated when you look over at her. “You have class in an hour, what are you doing?” Before you have the chance to speak, realisation covers her face. “Oh, the feelings.” 
You nod solemnly, too caught up in the butterflies raiding your stomach to come up with something to say. 
At lightspeed, you scarf down the rest of your food, apologising for showing up so late as you head out the door. When you get home, you take the fastest shower of your life and feel grateful Chaewon isn’t around to tease you about the smile you can’t wipe from your face thinking about Sunghoon—you’ll text her later.
You run to campus, feeling the brisk autumn wind beating against your face while the rest of your body overheats under your jacket, hoodie and long sleeve. Despite the discomfort and ache in your lungs, you don’t stop until you reach the door of your lecture hall, huffing and puffing into the faces of classmates who don’t take any notice. Of course, in a stroke of pure luck, your lecturer is late, and you realise bitterly, that all of your huffing and puffing was in vain—you would have gotten to class with time to spare even if you walked.
It’s not a total waste though; you use the time to update Chaewon. 
you: i have news wonie..  i like sunghoon
wonie: …………….. fork in the kitchen yn what’s the news? 
wonie: OHHHH news to YOU.. can i call? 
She calls you immediately. You answer without thinking because your lecturer still hasn’t arrived, and there’s no one sitting close enough to hear or notice you taking a call. 
“Are you going to tell him?!” Chaewon’s voice is so loud you wince, pulling the phone away from your ear. 
“I don’t know.” You shrug even though she can’t see you, still holding the device at a distance just in case. “I don’t have any confirmation that he still.. likes me. It’s been a while, and I was pretty mean that day. 
Chaewon groans and you can picture her throwing herself onto her bed, exasperated. The rustling that comes through the receiver only frames the image, hanging it up. “Did you have to tell him to get a grip?” 
“You know..” You trail off, chewing on your bottom lip. “In hindsight, probably not.” 
A beat passes, she’s thinking. “Don’t worry,” she says. “I’ll help you.” 
“I.. have never been so worried in my life.” You sigh, picking at your freshly painted nails. “But I know you’ll do something no matter what I say, so do what you want, Wonie, but please be subtle about it.” 
Chaewon squeals down the phone. “I love youuuuu!” And it’s the last thing she says before kissing the mic a few times and hanging up. 
Slumping in your seat, you don’t have any time to stress about Chaewon’s plans because your lecturer walks in, with a travel cup in her hand and a paperback tucked under her arm. 
She apologises for being late, running a hand through her hair as she announces that you’ll be watching a film, an adaptation of a book you read at the start of term—Ian McEwan’s Atonement. You spend the first hour of the movie falling in and out of sleep until a text comes through from Sunghoon, and sheer excitement keeps you up.
hoonie: Wanna study together after class? 
you: of course!!!!!! 
hoonie: 🤍
The rest of the movie goes by in a drag, and you come away from it with a mild irritation towards Saoirse Ronan.
you: class just finished, heading to lib rn 
hoonie: Shit, still in the locker room, sorry !!! Omw, can you get a table? 
you: i’ll try..
It takes a while but you find an empty booth on the second floor, and set your bag on the plush green seat to take pictures of your surroundings to send to Sunghoon. You sit on the side facing the stairs so he can see you when he arrives. The thought of seeing him makes your heart race and you try out a few natural-seeming poses for when he’s here, cycling between resting your palm under your chin and sitting with your arms crossed a few times until the top of his head comes into view. 
Seeing him knocks the wind out of you as he approaches the staircase, taking them two at a time with his damp hair clinging to his forehead and neck. It doesn’t help that he’s wearing a tight black vest, and his sweats are hanging low on his hips. A breath you didn’t realise you were holding slips out when he lifts his head, spotting you immediately as a grin spreads over his lips and he raises his arm to wave, the veins in his forearm peeking out to say hi too. You can’t tell if it’s his lack of winter wardrobe or your newfound appreciation for him that’s making his biceps look so huge but it’s hard to look away, even when he reaches the table. 
“Are you hot?” you blurt out. 
Sunghoon laughs, raising a brow and something about the way he’s looking down at you makes your cheeks burn. “Depends who’s asking.” He takes his backpack off, leaving it on the table as he sits down, dumping his jacket and hoodie in a pile beside him.
“I’m asking,” you mumble. 
“Then, yeah, I’d hope so.” 
Is he flirting? It sounds like he’s flirting. Flirt back! “Nice arms.” 
He looks down at his biceps for a beat before looking at you warily. “Are you flirting with me?” He can’t fight the smile twitching at the corners of his lips but he tries his best, pressing them into a straight line.
“A little. They are nice though,” you admit.
Sunghoon grins. “Thanks, I’ve had them for a while now.”
You can’t come up with anything to say, too distracted by the way his smile reaches his eyes, lighting up his whole face and forcing a flustered heat to spread over your cheeks and neck. It’s only when you look away from him that you remember what you’re here for. It’s a study date, not a study date—there’s a difference. 
You hand Sunghoon the material you’d printed for him over the weekend, excerpts from texts you’d studied in class, so he can practise close reading and proper citation. As he makes his way through them, you can’t help stealing glances, smiling at the way his tongue sticks out a little while he focuses, or how he twirls his pen in his fingers while he’s thinking. You aren’t making the best use of your time together, copying out the slides from class yesterday, but you can’t help noticing the way he watches you when he thinks you can’t see. The small smile on his face while he does so only flusters you, an odd weakness settling in your knees as your cheeks heat up. 
After a while, Sunghoon sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Could you stop watching me?”
“If you noticed me watching, that means you’re watching me.” 
He shrugs, chewing on his lip. “Well, yeah. I’m always watching you,” he says like it’s a given. “But you don’t normally watch back, it’s distracting.” 
“You’re distracting.”
A playful smile curves his lips as he arches a brow, smugness painting his face. “Am I?” 
Too scared to verbalise your response, you nod slowly, hoping you don’t look as wound up as you feel. 
Sunghoon’s eyes flick over your face, flashing with something you don’t recognise. At least not from him. He sits back in his seat, assessing you and eventually shaking his head. 
“You know,” he says, eyes glowing with something you do recognise: cockiness. “If my sexy arms are getting to you that much, I can always put my hoodie back on. Wouldn’t want my little tutor getting distracted, would I?” 
Oh. 
Your stomach turns with want, mind reeling from his tone and the way his gaze lands on your lips. Sighing, you roll your eyes and try to seem unaffected. “Sunghoon, I never said your arms were sexy.” 
His phone starts to go off, buzzing against the table and he turns it over immediately, screen down on the surface as he shifts his focus back to his work. He chews on his lip while he does, eyes flicking back and forth between his phone and the words on the page. Curious, you lean over the table, elbows propped up as you rest your chin in your hands. He doesn’t spare you or his phone, which vibrates another four times, a glance.
“Are you going to get that?” 
Sunghoon shakes his head. “It’s nothing.” 
You hum, letting just enough curiosity seep into the sound that he’ll elaborate without being asked to. It doesn’t take long for him to deliver.
“It’s just Chaewon,” he says, running his hand through his hair and lifting his head. Sunghoon smiles. “We’ve been texting a lot these days.” 
“Cool.” You nod a few times, aiming for nonchalance but hitting bobblehead as you wait for him to continue. He doesn’t, only humming in response, nodding too. 
After a beat, he picks up his phone, angling it just high enough that you can’t see the screen. He reads the messages, an exhaled laugh coming from his nose as the tips of his ears redden—Fuck. This is worse than you thought. 
Chaewon’s commitment to girl code runs deep—she’s been rebuffing Jake since first year when she overheard a girl she’d never seen before telling her friends she thought he was cute. So you know without having to read the texts that nothing she’s saying is even remotely flirty, you can smell the auto-caps and use of the word ‘buddy’ from across the table. 
What you hadn’t counted on, however, was the potential for Sunghoon’s feelings to shift. If they really have been texting more, can you rule out the possibility that he might like.. her? Chaewon is a catch, beyond a catch, and you’d already turned Sunghoon down. Brutally. Of course, he’d move on, he has moved on. 
The rest of the study session is spent manifesting, writing Park Sunghoon over and over in the back of your notebook. You fill three pages while brainstorming ways to snatch a lock of his hair until he suggests that the two of you call it a day. He walks you home, telling you about how Jake’s been bribing him with food to get a ride to the LEGO store across town for the new Marvel set. 
“With or without the meals, I would’ve taken him, but his ramen is my favourite, so..” Sunghoon says, climbing the last step of your building and holding the door open for you. “He even brought a slice of tiramisu to the rink for me after practice.” 
“You’re terrible,” you say, frowning up at him as you search for your keys. “Do you want to come in?” 
Sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head. “I have a meeting with one of my lecturers soon, I’d have to leave in—” He pauses, rolling up the sleeve of his jacket to check the time. “—eight minutes.” 
“I’m cool with that if you are,” you mumble, suddenly shy. 
A bright smile spreads over his lips and he nods, following you in. 
Chilled by the harsh wind, the only thing on your mind is a hot drink as you lead Sunghoon to the kitchen. He shakes his head when you offer him one, sitting on the countertop and exhaling into his palms before rubbing them together. You can’t help but frown at the sight, feeling guilty that you can’t change the weather to suit him. At your thought process, your brows raise. Wow, you think. Is this who you are? 
You busy yourself with the selection of hot drinks you and Chaewon have accumulated, eyeing each container from top to bottom. A purple tub of Cadbury’s hot chocolate that you’re sure is on the brink of expiration, coffee—sachets of the instant stuff you’ve grown to like since leaving home, Earl grey from one of many brands, or the fancy silk tea bags Chaewon’s mum brought home from a trip—rooibos or plum-apple-cinnamon. 
Craving something sweet, you settle for hot chocolate, pulling the heavy container from the cupboard next to Sunghoon’s head and setting it beside your cup. He’s on his phone, scrolling too fast to take in anything he’s seeing and he shakes his head when you ask if he wants something to drink. 
On the dish rack, Chaewon’s mug catches your eye, so you pick it up to dry it off and put it down next to yours. “I’m going to check if Wonie wants any,” you say, wiping imaginary crumbs from the counter onto the floor. 
Sunghoon only clears his throat, shaking his head. “She’s not home, one of her acrylics popped off so she’s at the shop waiting for a cancellation.” 
The information itself isn’t jarring but hearing it from Sunghoon is. You put on what you hope is a neutral smile and nod, taking milk from the fridge and assembling your drink on autopilot while thinking of ways to redirect the conversation. 
“If you knew you’d have to go back to campus so soon, why’d you walk me home?” you ask, watching your cup spin in the microwave. “I could’ve walked on my own.” 
Sunghoon is already looking at you when you turn your head, his cheeks puffed out with air as he blinks slowly. Because I love you, is what you hope he’ll say. You think you need him to say it. 
“Because you don’t have to do anything on your own when you have me,” he says instead, and it’s infinitely better. 
The words seep through your every fibre, his intonation and lucid affection making a home for themselves in your heart, spreading warmth from head to toe. Your smile becomes a radiant grin, only brightening when he shakes his head, smiling down at his feet. 
Sunghoon hugs you in the kitchen when it’s time for him to leave, his arms holding you tight to his chest as he rocks you back and forth. You inhale his scent, all warm citrus under freshly washed cotton and something exclusive to him.
Wiping the smile from your face feels impossible. You don’t let go when he does, and a sweet laugh — a giggle, you think — tumbles out of him as he mumbles that he really has to go. Still, you cling onto him, taking clumsy steps backwards, with your arms locked around his waist, to your front door, smiling as you watch him put his shoes on. 
“You don’t have to walk me downstairs, honestly,” he says, looking down at you in the doorway.
“I want to.” 
His lips quirk up at the corners, a full smile breaking through and causing your stomach to flutter with so much force you’re sure it’s visible through your shirt. His eyes fall to your lips, lingering, before he clears his throat, looking away. 
“I’ll text you when I get to the door, promise.” 
You lock your pinky with his. “Send a selfie, just so I know it’s you and not someone else using your phone.” 
Sunghoon’s head falls back in a laugh. “Should I just call you? That way you can make sure I get back to uni in one piece.” 
You nod.
“That wasn’t anything with Chaewon earlier, I just needed advice on some girl stuff..” He trails off, searching your eyes. It’s obvious that he’s telling the truth, that he wants you to believe him. You do. “I wasn’t sure if that was something I could talk about with you.” 
Girl stuff. Hmm. You try not to read too much into it and look at the bigger picture instead—your best friend is going through something and doesn’t feel like he can come to you about it.. You squeeze his pinky reassuringly, a flutter in your stomach when he smiles. 
“You can talk to me about anything,” you say, meaning it. 
Sunghoon presses his lips together, humming and unlinking your fingers. “Next time,” he says after a beat, waving at you. 
You shut the door, locking it while watching through the peephole, he leaves as soon as the lock clicks shut. In the kitchen, your hot chocolate is cooling down, and your phone rings in your back pocket. Sunghoon’s calling. 
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Hanging out with Sunghoon. Making sure he sticks to the time-blocked schedule you made for him. Quizzing him on biology terms until he gets restless. If the last two weeks were an episode of Family Feud, those would be the top three answers to the question: Name something YN is doing right now.
Thankfully tonight, it’s the first one. 
You’ve been sitting on the couch for so long, Jake has both left for football practice and arrived from football practice. Conversation ebbs and flows—an hour or so of nonstop talking, followed by another hour or so of comfortable near silence. 
It’s during a quiet hour that Sunghoon sits up straight, clearing his throat before saying, “Let me ask you something. He retreats to the other side of the couch, turning to face you with his whole body. “I don’t want things to be weird after I ask, so no matter what your answer is, I won’t bring it up or ask again.”
Arching a curious brow, you nod. “You can ask me anything,” you say, meaning it.
Sunghoon’s face is impressively blank—minus the motion of sharp teeth worrying plush lip, there’s absolutely nothing behind his eyes that seem to stare right through you. 
Eventually, he asks, “Can I kiss you?” He says more. Big, scary words like for closure and moving on, but they don’t register. They don’t matter. 
Your heart pounds at the base of your throat as you find interest in your hands that sit in your lap. Even without looking at him, you can’t get over the slight crease he had in his brow and the slight tremor in his hands. 
“For closure,” you repeat, though your voice doesn’t sound like it’s coming from you, muffled under the thump of your heart. 
Sunghoon nods. “For closure.” 
A humourless laugh sneaks past your throat as you look at him. You shouldn’t have. In the lamplight, Sunghoon is golden and glorious. Warm light casts one side of his face, diffusing gently over the steep slope of his nose, highlighting his moles and the look in his eyes, gentle and curious all at once. Unwillingly, your gaze falls to his lips, parted, tempting. 
One firm nod of your head brings Sunghoon’s hand to your face, his palm cupping your cheek with soft skin as his thumb traces your cheekbone. You grow anxious under his stare, under the drag of his eyes over your features, taking them one at a time like he’s committing them to memory.
Leaning in, your eyes flutter shut as your lips meet his and he freezes, mouth completely still on yours. Delicately, your tongue traces the seam of his lips, soft and plump, until they part for you, moving with yours. Sunghoon’s kiss is unpolished when it reaches you. It’s hesitant but tender, clumsy but sweet, he’s trying and he’s perfect; your favourite. 
The kiss is.. it’s everything. It’s the racing of your heart, the thudding, the vibrant buzz you can hear, feel humming against your ears. It’s a rush of blood to the head, a lightness all over that pulls you out of your body. It’s Sunghoon’s soft lips curving into a smile against yours, his gentle hold on your face never letting up as he holds you as close as he can manage, and it’s every bit as lovely as the rest of him.
Palpable is the heartbeat of your friendship, beating to a lull under the surface of the kiss, fizzling out into nothing, a steady silence, flatlining to give way to something more, something bigger. 
Every brush of your lips against his is a revelation, a confession. You’re all I’ve ever wanted, you tell him with your kiss. You’re everything I need. His free hand finds yours, locking your fingers and squeezing, the action timed well enough to make you think he hears you, to make you think he’s saying, we’ll be okay, I still love you. 
With that, he pulls away, a delicate tension piercing the air. Blown eyes and laboured breathing—he’s beautiful, fuzzy around the edges with warm orange and all of the love in your heart. Breathless, you chew on your lip, cognisant of Sunghoon’s hand in yours and the sparkle in his eyes as he looks at you. 
Belatedly, you squeeze his hand back, smiling. “Was it everything you ever dreamed of?” you whisper, part teasing, all curious.
Abruptly, Sunghoon stands up, letting go of you in the process. “I have to go.” 
You want to stop him, you think you’re supposed to. To grab him by the arm and kiss him again, to yell in his face that you love him until he understands. But you don’t. Instead, you stay seated, staring at Sunghoon’s back and following him with your eyes out of the room and down the hall until he’s out of sight. 
It’s your first time being so upset after a kiss, and you can’t tell if it’s his leaving or the mention of him moving on that’s tripping you up so much. That’s causing melancholy to crawl from the shadows, sinking its jagged nails into your skin to pull you under. 
You love him. He’s gone. 
Eyes stuck on the doorway, time stretches over the room around you, thick and malleable, wet and cloying—clay stuck under your nails for days as the fire in the kiln rages on. 
Sighing, you get up and wait at his door. You ball your hand into a limp fist, knocking weakly. Sunghoon doesn’t reply. You try again, harder. Still nothing. 
Barging into the room, you find him sitting on the end of his bed with his face in his hands. 
“Don’t move on.” The words come out before you realise and Sunghoon lifts his head, squinting at you. 
“Huh?” He tilts his head, watching closely as you approach him, tipping it back enough to meet your eyes when you stand over him. 
You take a breath, holding it until your head starts to spin. “I don’t want you to love someone else, Sunghoon. Please don’t move on.” 
The stillness that follows is disconcerting, a long quiet you can feel on your skin, amplifying the blank stare on his face as he looks up at you. His eyes flash, a spark of hope behind them so bright it stings to look at.
“Do you..” He trails off, his lips moving to form the next word though stopping short.
“I do,” you whisper, nodding. “I’m sorry for taking so long.”
An exhaled laugh comes from his nose as he grins, shaking his head. “You like me?” he asks, excitement and disbelief fighting for authority over his voice, his hands holding your waist and pulling you down into his lap.
“I love you,” you admit, settling on his thighs. 
“You do?” His eyes are wide and gleaming, searching every feature on your face before settling on your own.
You nod. “So much.” 
Sunghoon’s chin tips up, his lips pressing against yours, excited pecks that can’t turn into much more for the smiles on your faces. You rest your arms on his shoulders, hands clasping behind his head, nervous fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. 
“So.. will you be my boyfriend? For real?” 
Tilting his head, he tries and fails to fight a smile. “I will. I’m a little bummed though.” 
“Why?” You raise a brow, and the word tips up at the end with it. 
“I wanted to be the one to ask you.” Sunghoon’s honesty warms the room, endearing you completely. 
You grin, loving the heat spreading over your cheeks. “Ask me anyway.” 
“Please can I be your boyfriend?” 
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In the weeks that followed, it became immediately clear that boyfriend Sunghoon operated on a pendulum swinging between sexual ferality and terror. He’d get distracted during study sessions at home, finding more interest in biting at your neck than stream-of-consciousness prose, but closed his eyes if a sex scene came on TV. He’d buck his hips against yours while making out but flinch at the sight of condoms in the store.
He wasn’t ready to have sex and didn’t know how to tell you, so you took matters into your own hands, asking if you could wait until after his results for resubmission came in, saying you didn’t want the distraction for either of you. Sunghoon agreed, pecking your cheek and holding you tight to his chest. 
The only thing was that your lecturer hadn’t given him an exact date, so every morning, you held your phone in a vice grip waiting for Sunghoon to update you, and every morning, you got the same text: Nothing today, baby ☹️ 
This morning, you’re brushing your teeth when he texts you, in all caps: NO FUCKING WAY I GOT A 98 !!! LOOK !!!
When the picture comes through, it’s of him in the mirror and you choke on mouthwash at the sight. He’s smiling, bright and beautiful, in a black vest that he’s holding up a little to show his stomach, though his palm is in the way of his toned abs, and it cuts off right at the top of his grey sweatpants. 
Your mouth goes dry as you click on it, fixating on every little detail you can find: the thickness of his fingers against his phone, the dip in his collarbones, the breadth of his shoulders and the cinch of his waist. In a fit of desperation, you try swiping at the bottom of your screen, willing the picture to magically extend. It doesn’t. 
hoonie: Finger slipped.. You like?
you: mm.. 
you: 98??? HOLY SHIT, LOOK AT YOU!!!
hoonie: All you.. do you like the picture?
you: i love it………….
hoonie: My girl 🤍
Another picture comes in, and sure enough, through the glare of his laptop screen, you see: Course name: The Modernist Movement: Joyce, Woolf, and Hemingway. Marks Awarded: 98.0.
you: well done baby !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
hoonie: Thx 😁
hoonie: Can I have my prize now ha ha .. haha 😈
you: just for that emoji, no you absolutely cannot.
Your resolve isn’t strong enough when it comes to Sunghoon, because purple devil emoji and all, you show up at his door with condoms in your bag and a bouquet of lilies behind your back. 
The door creaks open and Sunghoon greets you with a grin. “Hey, gorgeous. You proud of me?” 
You beam at him, holding out the flowers. “I’m very proud, Hoon, well done.” 
“I don’t want to ruin the moment,” he starts, taking the bouquet from your hands and sniffing the flowers with an approving smile. “But hearing you say you’re proud of me is awakening something I didn’t know existed.”
“A good something?” 
“Mm,” he hums, arms finding your waist before he pecks your lips. “A very good something.” 
Sunghoon’s words hit your lips and your core, a desperate heat flooding your stomach as he kisses you deeply, his body pressed tightly against yours while he pulls you into his apartment. He kicks the door shut with his foot, slipping his hand under your jacket to settle in your back pocket, not quite squeezing but holding your ass as gently as he can manage. 
He breaks away from you, love in his eyes as he stares down into yours, catching his breath. “I don’t think we own a vase.” 
In his kitchen, you rifle through cupboards to find something to hold the flowers, eventually finding a whiskey decanter in the cupboard under the sink, and holding it up for Sunghoon to see.
“Oh, yeah,” he says. “It’s Jay’s. It’ll work right?” 
You nod, taking it to the sink to rinse it. Sunghoon wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder watching you fill the decanter with water and flower food before grabbing the bouquet. He presses open-mouthed kisses to your neck and you struggle to stay focused as you cut down the stems on the flowers, arranging them neatly. 
“Can I take a photo?” he asks when you’re done. 
He’s smiling when you turn around to look at him, a soft curve of his lips that makes your heart race, a deep tenderness in his eyes when you meet them. You smile too. 
“They’re yours, baby, do whatever you want.” 
“A photo of you with the flowers,” he clarifies. 
Warmth settles in your chest, a grin spreading over your lips from ear to ear. You nod, taking the decanter in your hands when he lets go of you, holding the flowers up beside your face and smiling for his camera. As his phone shutter clicks away, you steal glances at his face behind it. He’s watching the screen with a smile, telling you how beautiful you are.
“I want pictures of you too,” you say, handing the flowers over. 
“I’m yours, baby, do whatever you want.” 
Sunghoon poses for your photos, smiling sweetly in some and sniffing the bouquet appreciatively with closed eyes for others. He’s glowing and he’s beautiful and your heart triples in size while taking picture after picture until your phone tells you it has ten percent. 
“Thank you, YN,” he says. “I’ve never gotten flowers before, I love them.” His arms settle around your waist, lips pressing against yours before you have the chance to respond. 
You try anyway, mumbling against his lips that you love him. In response, Sunghoon grins, but the feeling of his cock growing hard against you is distracting, a lust-coated thorn in the side of the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. With locked lips and uncertain steps, the two of you bump into corners and trip over your own feet, stumbling to his room and parting only to tear his hoodie over his head.
Breathless, you pull away, eyes trailing over him and picking up on everything, from the tremble in his hands to the lust-addled worry in his eyes. He’s nervous, you think—though it escapes you, the last word coming out like a question.
Sunghoon scoffs, his hands resting on your waist under your shirt, skin clammy against yours. “Of course, I’m nervous.” 
“You don’t have to be.”
“I just want to be good for you.” 
“Don’t worry about that, let me take care of you, Hoon.” Your palms drag up his torso — firm abs through soft cotton, defined chest over racing heart — to rest on his shoulders. “Sit,” you say when he nods. 
He gulps, taking a seat on the end of his bed under your gentle push, eyes widening when you sink to your knees between his legs and reach for his drawstring, pulling the ends to untie the knot. 
“Wait,” Sunghoon says, breathless, scrunching up his face and dropping his head. “Let me calm down, baby. At this rate, I’ll come just seeing your hand on it.” 
You giggle, resting your head on his thigh and wrapping the drawstring around your finger.
“I’m serious, YN,” he mumbles, laughing as he takes his vest off. “I need a minute.” 
Sunghoon’s eyes are pressed shut as he tries to collect himself, lips pouty and kiss-bitten, slightly parted with ragged breaths slipping out. You wait patiently for him. He’s so pretty like this, with the crease in his brow and the pretty pink flush dusting his cheeks as his chest rises and falls. You can’t help but smile, leaning into his touch when his hand rests on top of your head, his blunt nails grazing your scalp. After a while, he seems more at ease, his eyes finding yours and he smiles shyly, telling you he’s ready now and lifting his hips from the bed to let you pull his sweats and underwear down. 
Free from the constraints of fabric, his cock slaps his stomach with a wet sound as the tip meets his skin, leaving a pearlescent streak over his abs. The sight makes your mouth water and you can’t look away. “Pretty,” you whisper.
Wrapping a hand under his tip, you swipe it with your thumb, taking time to memorise the flutter of his eyelids, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple, and the soft sigh he lets out. You stroke him slowly, liking the way his breath picks up as his brows knit together before you take him in your mouth. It’s a tight fit but you do your best, spurred on by the way he tugs at your hair and stutters through a holy fuck as you take as much of him as you can. 
Sunghoon goes silent, only squirming when you use your hand to stroke him near his base. Self-conscious about his lack of vocal affirmation, you look up at him through your lashes, and the pure bliss on his face is unbearably attractive. His eyes are rolled back under furrowed brows, his mouth hanging open as he throws his head back.
“Am I doing okay?” you ask, using the moment to catch your breath.
He nods, inhaling shakily and screwing his eyes shut while his hips buck up into your fist. “I’m.. You’re doing such a good job, baby, so good.”
Satisfaction courses through you from the praise, a high that dulls the ache in your jaw. Still watching him, you massage his balls in your palm, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his tip when he whines. You tongue at his slit until he thrusts back into your mouth, tip hitting your throat, and he gasps when you gag, his arm coming up to cover his eyes. A belated apology slips from his lips, mumbled as he strokes your hair with a shaking hand and goes quiet again. When you speed up, his breath stutters, the muscles in his thighs contracting around your head as you suck and lick and drool on his cock. 
A moan of your name, and his hand holding your hand down, are the only warnings you get before Sunghoon comes, spilling his load right down your throat. Whining, his hips buck up against your face, pushing further and further until he falls back onto the mattress.
Your throat is hoarse and aches while you use the back of your hand to wipe at your lips, enjoying what’s left of his taste on your tongue. Deep red tints his neck and chest, a pretty flush gleaming under the sheen of sweat on his skin. He’s mesmerising, as he tries for air through swollen lips and looks up at you through squinted eyes. He reaches for you, cute grabby hands tugging your shirt and pulling you down so you’re lying next to him with your head on his chest. 
“You’re amazing, baby, so good for me,” Sunghoon whispers, eyes fluttering shut as you drag your nails over his torso, feeling the subtle heave of the slick, sculpted muscle over his stomach and chest. 
Pride heats your chest, satisfaction rolling over you like a wave. “Really?”
He hums in affirmation, nodding his head. 
“You were so quiet, I couldn’t really tell,” you add, hungry for more praise. 
“The walls are so thin in here, I just got used to being quiet,” Sunghoon says, frowning. Hand meeting your chin, he tips your head up towards him, pressing a soft kiss to your lips and mumbling, “I’m sorry. You were perfect, I swear.” 
It’s a sweet kiss. Until lips move harder and hands get lower, desperate as he thumbs the top of your leggings, palm unmoving but a dangerous heat blooms in your stomach anyway.
“Can I..” Sunghoon pinches you softly through the material, unsure eyes boring deep into yours. 
You nod. “You can.” 
Slipping under your waistband, his fingers skate across your skin dipping between your thighs. He grazes your slit, satisfaction clear in the groan he lets out as he feels the wetness there, pulling it over the length of your slit to cover your clit. Your breath hitches, a strangled gasp, pleasure and surprise meeting in your throat under the pressure of his thumb on your clit, the gentle sting of his finger pushing into you. 
What Sunghoon lacks in experience, he makes up for with the sheer length and thickness of his fingers. It’s almost jarring, it’s enough to force your eyes closed and bring a sigh rumbling out of you, ache and relief settling between your legs, where he curls a finger against your walls and drags slow circles over your clit. 
“Can you take these off, baby?” he asks, hand away to touch your leggings. 
You don’t waste a second, sitting up to pull them off, throwing them and your underwear across the room. Sunghoon licks his lips, tugging at the hem of your shirt. 
“And this? If you want..” 
You nod, pulling it off immediately to let it join the rest of your clothes in a heap on the floor. The way he gulps is a confidence boost, his dilated pupils taking in every inch of your body, though his gaze always pulls back to your bra—white and lacy, thin enough for your nipples to push through the fabric and Sunghoon can’t seem to get enough, though he waits until you’re lying down again to touch you. 
Sunghoon props himself up on his elbow, leaning over you. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, dragging a finger over the lace at the top of your bra, toying with the material and the little bow sitting between your breasts. His eyes flick up to meet yours. “So beautiful,” he repeats. 
Hiding your face in his chest, you mumble, “Thank you,” into his skin while trying to ignore the heat spreading over your body wherever he touches you. His hand trails from your arm to your waist, resting on your hips to slip over your ass for a beat, where he grabs and squeezes the flesh there before coming back around to slot between your legs—you lift one of them, resting it over his body, and he’s smiling sweetly when you look up at him.
Sunghoon’s movements are unchanging, though the sensation is heightened by the unbridled desire in his lidded eyes that urges white heat to lick over every inch of your skin—this time he pushes two fingers into you.
It doesn’t get better than this, you think. But it does, quickly. 
Leaning over you, his eyes flick across your face, one feature at a time as he chews on his lip. Reaching up, you push some of his hair from his face, holding it back and saying, “Relax, baby.” 
“Don’t want to hurt you.”
Moving your hand, you blink when his hair flops back over his forehead, tickling your eyelashes. His eyes are focused now, staring straight down into yours, want and worry flashing behind them. 
“You won’t, I promise,” you say, locking your pinky with his, feeling relieved when he smiles.
Sunghoon pushes in slowly, his name slipping from your lips when he exhales shakily, head falling forward. The sting, the pleasure, make it hard to breathe, molten desire taking hold of your lungs as he carves out a place for himself as far as you’ll take him, all the way to the hilt as slow as he can manage. 
A moan tears out of him, lewd and whiny as his hair tickles your collarbone, head falling into the crook of your neck. His skin is hot and damp against yours, his breath burning your shoulder as he tries to calm down. It’s difficult to register much else, tethered only by the sound of his voice when he asks, “Am I hurting you?” 
“Hoon,” you whisper. 
“Can you look at me, baby?” He lifts his head, resting a hand on your cheek. You blink your eyes open, gaze locking with his, where concern pushes through his desire. “Am I hurting you?” he asks again. “Are you okay?” 
You nod. “I’m okay, just..” You sigh. “Full. Need a minute.” 
Sunghoon kisses you, lips moving gently with yours, passing breathy whines between your mouths until you feel yourself relaxing. Pulling his plush bottom lip between yours, you suck on it, nodding. “Want you to move, baby,” you mumble. 
He scans your face, eyes meeting yours as he pulls his hips back. He’s slow, so slow with his thrusts that your belly turns with want, your fingernails sink into the taut skin of his back, and jagged sobs fall out of you with each drag of his cock along your walls. 
Everywhere his skin touches yours is set ablaze with scorching heat, goosebumps pushing past the surface as his breath fans your neck and his sharp teeth graze your skin. He bites hard enough to sting, and you wince as his tongue flicks over your bitten flesh to soothe you.
You were so worked up earlier, writhing against the sheets and coming undone in his palm, so bliss quickly pushes through the ache between your legs. “Good, Hoon, feels so good,” you manage, struggling to convey how perfect it is.
“Just want to make you feel good.” His words melt into each other, vowels soft and elongated as they curl around each other. He’s working up a steady rhythm, his tip consistently nudging you where you need it—the spot that makes the room blur around you. “That’s all I want.” 
Before long, the knot in your stomach pulls you up from the mattress, arching your back towards the ceiling. Mouth to mouth, chest to chest—it’s the closest you’ve ever felt to someone else, the closest you’ve ever been. The thought alone knocks the wind out of you, and his persistent whining does nothing to help.
Your want and adoration for Sunghoon run bone-deep, inching up your spine and creeping over your shoulders, intertwined with an all-consuming pleasure that turns the heat in your stomach molten as a shudder zips through you. Even though you can’t find the words to let him know, he lifts your hips from the bed to fuck you deeper, harder, into the mattress until shaky orgasms pull both of you under. 
You let him fall into you, fingers curling around his hair, whispering I love you into the skin of his neck as he comes, most of his weight on top of you while you catch your breath, relishing in the fullness you feel as the last waves of your high pull back. You stay like this for as long as he needs, his head coming up from the crook of your neck to smile at you before pressing his lips to yours. A sleepy haze fills the room around you, tongue swiping tongue as you giggle happily into his mouth. 
After a while, he gets up, tying the condom to throw it away and comes back with his shirt. He uses it to clean up—gentle between your legs, pressing kisses to your calves while he does. Sunghoon’s tenderness wraps around your heart, and love clouds your vision, forming a blurry trail that follows all of his movements, glowing like something from a dream, ethereal, an apparition. 
The bed dips beside you, his arms around you, pulling you in so his chin rests on your head. You push your cheek into his chest, hoping the two of you will meld into one—the thought makes you warm all over, a fuzziness that reaches every part of your body while he presses kisses into your hair, rubbing your back. 
“I love you,” he says, voice as soft as the rest of him. “I’m glad I exist.”
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mama park: Hi lovely 😍 missing you lots, wondering when you’ll be home for Xmas………..love ma
Sunghoon stirs, nose scrunching as he snores softly into the quiet of a winter morning. His chest rises and falls steadily under your head and he doesn’t move when you sit up. The lamp on his desk is still on — neither of you could be bothered getting up to turn it off last night — and under its dim glow, you admire him. Perfect lips gently curved—long lashes kissing the skin under his eyes. 
Love hits you from all angles, warmth all over from head to toe despite the chill in Sunghoon’s room. You can’t help but grin, leaning up to nose along the underside of his chin, his natural scent so soft yet dizzying as you nuzzle into him. He stirs again, turning his head this way and that before resting, you feel a bit bad, deciding to leave him be and text his mum back. 
you: hi mum !!! missing you sooooooo much :((( will be home asap
mama park: BTW Sunghoon told me everything. I raised such good actors LOL make sure he looks after you and keeps you happy!
you: i’m so sorry we lied to you..
you: but i’m really happy with him and he loves me a lot
you: i love him so much .. never been so sure of anyone in my life
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© zreamy (2023), all rights reserved. do not repost, translate, or plagiarise my work. do let my know your thoughts !
permanent taglist: @asahicore
3K notes · View notes
lollixp0p · 2 months
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The Video (18+)
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Pairing: Best friend!Hwang Hyunjin x afab!reader
Genre: Smut (MDNI), bit of feelings
Word count: just under 3k!
Warnings: Idol!au, subby!Hyunjin, slightly perv!reader, recording, (maybe a bit dub con because he doesn't mean to send it but reader watches it anyway), mommy kink, masturbation (both but separately), Hyunjin fantasizes about reader, reader fantasizes about Hyunjin, lmk if I missed anything!!
Summary: Hyunjin finally gets some alone time after weeks of hard work and decides to use his time to... relax. The next day he ends up sending you something on accident that sets off a big change in your lives, with or without either of you really realising.
Note: My first ever fic!! :3 Inspired by a video I saw on phub. (@cbini (Ems isn't on Tumblr rn she still wanted to be tagged so I hope it's ok), @comet-falls, @hyunsvngs, @mnwrld and @skz-hell lmao hello everyone, writing blog reveal!!😁 here's this fic I've mention to all of you as an anon<3 (depending on who you are I'm either ❄️anon, 🐾anon or sounding anon😳)). To anyone reading this please give me literally any feedback (comment, reblog, anything!), I want to know if this is good or not since it's my first fic🙏😣
Please do not under any circumstance copy, translate, or repost my works!
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It's been exactly three weeks since Hyunjin's had any time for just himself, though it feels like months at this point.
Recently everyone's been running around like headless chickens and between vocal trainings, dance practices and the studio, there hasn't been much time to just relax and recharge. Preparing for a new album really is the busiest time of an idols life.
There hasn't even been time to see family or friends, which is common during busy spells like this, but always dissapointing to think about. Now even more so, with how much he's been wishing to spend time with you, one of his closest friends... who also happens to be his crush. Not that he'd ever let you know though, not in a very long time.
It feels almost like a blessing, getting back to the dorms from practice late in the evening and realising... he's got the place all for himself, at least until his roommates get back from the studio.
Changbin had messaged him earlier, telling him that they'd probably be there well past midnight, so there was no use waiting up for them. To him though, this was the very opposite of an issue. With that much free time, he'd definitely be able to... make himself comfortable, so to speak.
See, not having time to relax also means he'd basically had no time to get off. The best he'd been able to do had been quick little sessions barely once a week in the shower right before passing out on his bed from the exhaustion of working hard.
The realisation that he'd be able to do anything he wants during his time alone is enough to get his dick twitching in his jeans and he decides the shower can wait until later.
Hyunjin goes to his room and locks the door after himself even though he's alone, it's just become a habit after so many years living with his members. He sets his bag down next to his bed and thinks through his plan.
Hyunjin has a little secret, which is that he loves recording himself do dirty things that range from more vanilla to much less vanilla. Something about the thrill of being recorded even if no one will ever see it just... makes him so fucking horny.
He opens the camera of his phone, puts it to video mode and presses record. Moving his hand off the lense and setting it down where he normally sets it, on the carefully placed pile of books on his desk, he sits down on his bed.
"Hmm... I hope the angle's good... It's been so long since I've had time for this", Hyunjin sighs with a pout and brushes his hair out of his eyes. He knows the camera won't see it though because he's made sure the stand, his pile of books, is at a level that cuts off his head perfectly.
Hyunjins hands run down his body slowly and he exhales deeply, just loud enough to get picked up by his phone. Once they reach his jeans he unbuttons them, unzips the zipper, then pulls the jeans down just enough to expose his underwear. Hyunjin pulls his shirt up over his stomach to be held in place under his chin, rubs his hand over his bulge and hums.
It's been so long since the last time he's been able to take his time making himself feel good. It's almost embarrassing how quickly he's getting hard.
He takes his dick out his boxers and then spits on the palm of his right hand. It's dirty and wet but it just turns him on even more. He grabs his dick with the hand and slowly moves his fist up and down, to spread the saliva and precum all over his dick to make the slide easier and wetter but to also get himself to full hardness.
"A-ah, ohh... that's so good... Feels-fuck, feels so good", Hyunjin sighs. It really won't take him too long to cum, he just knows it. He's been pent up for far too long.
He tries to think of something to help his issue and immediately thinks of you, no matter how embarrassed or dirty it makes him feel.
When you first started showing up in the dirtiest corners of his mind he felt so ashamed. Now it doesn't matter to him anymore. You'll never find out so why feel bad?
He continues to move his hand on his dick while thinking of you. The last time the two of you had time to hang out together you'd worn the lowest cut shirt he'd ever seen on you. He had tried so hard to act normal around you but whenever you bent down he'd been able to see into your shirt.
"Haah, fuck..." , he squeezes himself a little harder at the memory. Everytime you moved he could see your bra poking out from the top, black and lacy. The entire time he'd been doing his best to not bust in his pants. Oh, what he'd give to be able to see your tits. They always looked so soft and they'd probably fit perfectly into his palms.
Whenever the both of you would hang out at yours, watching movies and just hanging out, you never bothered to wear a bra. Why would you? It is your house where you want to be as comfortable as possible.
The feeling of laying down on your couch watching a movie with you on top of him, in just a t-shirt, will end up driving him mad one day. Everytime he'd felt your nipples poking into him he'd almost moaned out loud.
"Hngh... Oh my god, please... m-mommy!", he lets out pathetically, moving his fist faster. God he just wants you to use him, to do anything you want to him. The thought makes him whine desperately.
One of the most common fantasies for him is you on top of him using him to get off, not caring about if he's close or not. You'd sit on his face and ride it until you cum. He could probably cum untouched like that. All he'd need was tasting you and seeing you cum, just for him.
All the sudden he remembers the phone recording him and he shudders. He imagines what your reaction would be to seeing him like this. Would you be disgusted or delighted? Would you tell him what to do and how to touch himself? Maybe you'd touch him... He hopes you would.
"Mommy... please touch me, aah- oh!", he runs his thumb over the head of his cock just right and his thighs twitch but he keeps them open, in perfect view to the camera.
Throwing his head back he imagines you riding him. You'd be so tight and wet around him. Maybe you'd tie his hands behind his back so he wouldn't be able to touch you... he'd really like that. You'd feel godly around him, Hyunjin thinks.
"Fuck, oh fuck! Mommy I'm-haah, I'm so close, please!", his dick twitches desperately. You're so gorgeous, to him you're the sexiest person he's ever seen. He feels himself getting so close that tears spring to his eyes.
"Ah- 'm gonna... mommy, gonna cum...!", he whines out long and loud. It takes Hyunjin two more strokes to let go and he cums the hardest he's cum in weeks. He doesn't even register whispering your name. Hyunjin leans back on his left hand and keeps stroking himself through it.
The feeling is overwhelming, so much so that his thighs start twitching pathetically and the tears in the corners of his eyes fall. He's getting incredibly overstimulated but he keeps going, wanting to keep enjoying the feeling, just a bit more.
He squeezes himself one last time and suddenly everything on him feels gross and dirty. He's just had the best orgasm in weeks so it's no surprise that he came a lot, everywhere. He even managed to get some on his chin.
"Fuuck... Did you-haah... did you enjoy that?", he chuckles to the phone. It takes a while for him to come down from the high, the twitchiness and the feeling of euphoria lingering in his body. Once he's capable of standing up again he stops the video.
With his body feeling like jelly, he takes off all his clothes, drops them into his hamper and prepares to shower, at last.
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Hyunjin wakes up to his alarm the next day feeling more refreshed than he's felt in weeks. He shuts off the still ringing alarm and quickly gets up from his bed to get dressed and go eat breakfast.
Checking the calendar on his phone to make sure he knows his schedule for today, he makes a note of one thing; he'd have a lot of time alone at the dorms today too, since he's only got a dance practice and a recording session today, which obviously means 3racha will stay behind to stress about their songs while Hyunjin can return early. Maybe this time he should continue the latest piece of art he's been working on after he gets back?
Hyunjin gets through the day well enough.
After eating breakfast he messages you a "Good morning pretty <3 please remember to drink water!" like every morning when he has time for it. He gets to the practice room only five minutes late, which is a record this early in the morning, because usually he ends up sleeping in at least ten minutes (which makes Chan scold him for being such a heavy sleeper).
He does well at practice, even though he ends up a little exhausted. That's nothing new though, with how hard they always work to be the best they can be.
The rest of the members leave to take a break but Hyunjin decides to stay behind to film the solo choreography he's been working on for fun. Once he's happy with how it's turned out, it's time for him to go record his lines.
The recording session goes smoothly, without hundreds of retakes and everyone's satisfied with the result. Afterwards they decide to order some take-out, as a reward for a job well done... and also because they're all feeling too lazy to even think about going to the dorms to cook.
While eating Hyunjin finally realises to check his phone again. "Good morning, take care of yourself too!! :)" is your response to what he sent earlier. It's nothing more than a kind response but it makes him grin to himself like the fool in love he is.
"Yaaah!! Hyunjinnieee, what's making you smile so beautifully?", Changbin leans towards him with his signature flirting-with-Hyunjin grin, mouth half full of rice.
"It's nothing," Hyunjin responds back to him cheeks red, "and don't talk with your mouth full hyung... Do you not have any respect?"
Changbin decides to drop it in favor of eating more delicious food.
"Oh come on... we wanna know!!", Han pouts at him from his seat on the couch in the room. Hyunjin shoves another mouthful of food in his mouth to avoid the embarrassement of explaining how a single text messaged from you manages to make his heart beat out of his chest.
Once Hyunjin's done eating he's free to go back to the dorms and just like he suspected the rest of his dormmates stay behind to work some more, although they all whine at him to stay to explain the previous mystery. He declines and they all keep their sad puppydog eyes on him until he's out the door.
He keeps texting you during his ride, all the way to the dorms. Once he's in his room Hyunjin decides to just change into some clean clothes. He's too excited to talk to you and get to painting, he can wash up later.
He lays in his bed to keep texting you and at some point your conversation changes from how your day's been going to talking about dancing and he mentions how he just today filmed a new choreography bit he's made for fun.
❣️:
Can I see what you've been working on? :)
I'm sure it's really good, you always are!!
Jinnie:
Well... since you asked so nicely😉
[video sent]
Quickly sending the video Hyunjin exits out the messaging app, feeling so giddy he can't help but squirm around on his bed. He still can't believe someone like you could be interested in seeing him dance.
It might seem like a small thing for most but he feels himself turning red just thinking about the way you look at him while he talks about something so important to him. It makes the butterflies in his stomach every time you're near go crazy. It's so attentive, like you actually care and are interested in his interests... and maybe even...?
'No' , he thinks to himself. There's probably no way you could ever actually be interested in him, not in the same way he's interested in you at least.
He leaves his phone charging and finally gets out of bed to go to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. He'd need it if he wanted to stay up late to work on his newest art piece.
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Hearing the familiar 'ping' notification of receiving a message makes you open your phone again and just like you thought, Hyunjin had sent you the video of his latest masterpiece of a choreography. Not waiting a second you press the video just to see.... Hyunjin take his hand off the camera and set the phone down on the desk in his room he draws on. He sits down on the edge of his bed and says something, you aren't really sure what, because the volume's too low. In confusion you turn it up more.
Hyunjin sighs and reaches up to move his hair out his face, probably. You can't see it though, because the camera cuts his face perfectly off frame. Suddenly his hands run down his body to the button on his jeans. He opens it and starts undoing the zipper next. You just look at the video in shock. 'He isn't about to... to take them off is he?', you think to yourself, just as he pulls the jeans down enough to expose his white boxers and then palms his bulge.
Should you stop watching? Keep watching? How long has it even been playing? How long does it keep playing? While you wonder this you almost miss Hyunjin pull his hard dick out of his underwear and spit on his palm and... Oh God...
You've now done something you can never take back. The downright sinful view of his cock is something you don't think you're ever going to be able to forget. How do you even face him after this? After watching him grasp his dick in his hand and pump it a couple of times to spread the spit and precum around.
You exit the video, panting and absolutely soaking through your underwear. Your other hand rushes to your face to feel your cheeks. They're burning and feel like you've been standing out in the sun for hours, when in reality all you've done is accidentally watch your best friend play with himself.
You struggle to decide what to do with the video and in the end save the video without much thinking, then delete the message of it and decide to notify him of his mistake. As long as he doesn't know you saved it, it should be fine, right?
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It takes Hyunjin less than 10 minutes to make and get the coffee. He returns to his room humming the tune of a song he's had on repeat recently. Setting the coffee down on the desk and taking his phone off from the charger he notices new messages from you.
❣️:
Uhm...😕
Hyunjin, I don't think you meant to send that.
He looks at his screen confused. What did you mean by that? He...
Oh God.
Did he send the wrong video?
Frantically opening the video he sent earlier he sees himself, in video, move his hand off the phone camera and set it down the desk near his bed and sit down. Oh no...
"Hmm... I hope the angle's good... It's been so long since I've had time for this", video Hyunjin sighs and reaches up to move his hair from his eyes. His head may be out of frame but he clearly remembers pouting while saying this. He watches himself slowly unbutton and unzip his pants, adjusting them so that his boxers are clearly visible in frame. In the video his hand drifts towards his crotch slowly, teasingly.
He quickly exits the video and promptly shoves his head under his pillow and yells. He'd accidentally sent the wrong video while hurrying to get a cup of coffee. How could he have messed up this bad? In his panic, it takes him a moment to respond.
Jinnie:
Oh god
I'm so sorry!!
Please don't watch that!
❣️:
Don't worry!!!
I stopped watching the moment you started unzipping your pants😖
I saw nothing, promise!🙏 It's been deleted already!! 
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Little does he know though, you'd kept the video. You're not really sure why, but subconciously your brain keeps screaming' to finish it later, of course'.
...
Fuck it, you don't think you can wait until later.
Taking a deep breath, you open your gallery to find the video he sent you. You hesitate for a second but press play anyway. You can feel how you're already soaking through your underwear but pay no mind to it yet.
You watch him do the things you've seen already, all the way until he spits in his hand... and you pause the video. 'Is it right to watch this? I mean, he didn't mean to even send it...', you think to yourself.
But the thought of seeing him touch himself, to hear him make the sweetest noises you could ever in your wildest dreams imagine him making drives you on.
Pressing play again you dip your fingers into your pants. You rub yourself over your underwear and oh my god... you can't believe the wetness you feel after less than a minute of watching the video. You focus on the phone you're holding in your other hand and finally move your fingers into your underwear to directly touch your pussy.
On your screen you see Hyunjin start to stroke himself faster, the head of his dick a dark pink, you can feel his desperation through the screen. Without thinking you move your fingers to your clit and start rubbing it in circles, aided by the wetness of your leaking pussy.
He moans out loud and even though you can't hear it through the fog in your head, you know he's desperate. You move your fingers down to your hole and dip two of them in. You're so wet you barely need to even stretch yourself out and then he does it.
"Hngh... Oh my god, please... m-mommy!"
You push your fingers deeper and your pussy lets out he lewdest squelch which in turn makes you close your eyes desperately in pleasure. 'Mommy? When he masturbates he calls out for mommy??', the thought makes you lose your mind. You think about what it would be like if he called you mommy in the throes of pleasure.
You want to make him follow every command you give him. The way he'd look up at you on his knees with you standing above him. Maybe you could make him suck on a strap? He'd look so ridiculously delicious with his mouth full, drool dripping down his cheeks.
You add another finger and start rubbing at your clit with your thumb at the same time. The feeling makes you whimper and imagine his hands on you, teaching him how to touch you perfectly. You're getting so close and you remember to focus your screen again.
Hyunjin looks absolutely disheveled. His dick is red and throbbing, you can tell he's getting close. His voice is another thing that gives him away. He's whiny and his voice keeps cracking every time he opens his mouth. Hyunjin bucks into his hand and moans.
"... mommy, gonna cum...!", he strokes himself twice more and then finally cums. You're so close it's maddening. All the sudden you hear him... whisper your name?
It makes you go off the edge and your entire body clenches and seizes while you silently cry out from all the pleasure you're feeling. Your walls suck in your fingers with how you're clenching around them. On the screen Hyunjin twitches violently, working himself through the end of his orgasm.
You pull your fingers out of yourself and slump down on your bed exhausted, but the last 20 seconds of the video that's now over haunts you. Did you hear him right?
You gather strength to pick up your phone again and rewind the video to the part where he cums and turn the volume almost all the way up. Admittedly you end up fixating on the way his dick looks and face twists in pleasure when he cums and then he says, or more like whisper your name. Your brain blanks.
"Fuuck... Did you-haah... did you enjoy that?", he chuckles to the phone, sits in place for a bit to properly come down and then gets up to stop the video.
You're wet, confused and you can feel your heart beat out of your chest. What do you do now? How can you ever face him normally after that... Does he feel the same way you do? Is he sure he didn't mean to send it?
It's all too much to think about, so you decide that instead of thinking about it you'll clean yourself up and... crawl into a hole where no one will ever find you. Probably. The only thing you know for sure is you definitely won't be sleeping tonight.
© lollixp0p 2024 | please do not under any circumstance copy, translate, or repost my works
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2K notes · View notes
sansaorgana · 5 days
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— THROWN TO THE WOLVES (VII)
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PART ONE || PART TWO || PART THREE PART FOUR || PART FIVE || PART SIX PART EIGHT
PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader // Atreides!OC
SUMMARY — Baron Harkonnen throws a celebration in the honour of the na-baroness being pregnant with the heir of his house. Feyd-Rautha's unusual gift for his wife surprises everyone.
AUTHOR’S NOTE — It’s written as an usual x Reader fic without describing anything about the Reader’s looks but I still classified it as an OC as well since she is Paul Atreides’ half-sister. It's the longest chapter so far and I wrote it all yesterday...??? I was afraid that after a few chapters I would start losing interest in writing down the story (as usual) but something completely opposite is happening 😳 I was planning a little in my head and I think the story will have 10 chapters but the last chapter might be very long... I am not sure yet. You see, I have a little OCD and I don't like odd numbers... So there is no way the story will have 11 chapters 🤣 Either 10 or 12. Of course I want to thank everyone showing support to my story and my writing. Special thanks to @everandforeveryours for sending me a link to a helpful Dune lore video and allowing me to use a good idea of Feyd's pets being a gift from the Baron Harkonnen. I also want to tag @valeskafics and her fanfic "Between Us" because it uses the same theme I used in this chapter. I had this idea even before reading that amazing story but she wrote it first so I want to be fair! 💕
WARNINGS — arranged marriage, mentions of sexual activities (no actual smut), violent behaviour, death
WORD COUNT — 7,110
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
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THROWN TO THE WOLVES (VII)
The sound of grunts, screams and clinging metal accompanied your breakfast as usual when you were eating your morning meal and watching your husband practice in the courtyard. Last night’s memories brought a faint smile to your face as you caressed your womb with your free hand.
Never before had you performed your marital duties in such a way. Nothing hurt you that morning, nothing was aching, nothing was sore. What a shame, you thought at first but you knew that your child’s safety was the priority. You were aware of the mockery of this yearning which was missing Feyd’s roughness and abuse. You both had your victories with each other – he had managed to shape your body and its desires the way he wanted to. He had turned you into a whore.
So, last night’s relative gentleness had been new to the both of you. It hadn’t been as exciting nor fun but you would get used to it for the few upcoming months, you decided.
You looked down and watched him finish the fight so gracefully and swiftly that it made you feel proud as if you were a mother watching her son training. Your fingers tickled your own abdomen teasingly, hoping that your unborn son could feel that. You already imagined him being the one training one day as you’d watch proudly.
Feyd looked up to make sure you had witnessed his victory and you waved at him before going back to your breakfast. He was an exquisite warrior and you wondered why his uncle still made him perform pathetic shows in front of the audience instead of letting him show his real abilities. Perhaps he didn’t want Feyd to become more respectable, at least not yet. It would weaken his position and despite presenting his nephew as his natural successor, he wasn’t eager to let go of the throne just yet.
Feyd had been right the other day when he had told you that it was not the right time to kill the Baron. It would make the nobility of Giedi Prime want to take over the reign and call Feyd an usurper. No, the transfer of power had to go smoothly because every civil war was weakening its state.
You were deep in your thoughts when Feyd joined you on the balcony in his gladiator gear, still breathing heavily after the fight.
“Let me finish my breakfast first,” you told him casually. You knew what he wanted. The same thing as always after the fight.
“Not today,” he only said and sat on the chair next to yours. You raised your eyebrow at him and watched him grabbing a plate and putting some of your food on it.
“You don’t have to restrain yourself so much, I am not made of glass,” you chuckled.
“Who said I’m going to restrain myself?” He looked at you and you moved uncomfortably.
You still had the image of his awful cannibalistic lovers making out with each other and hissing at you with jealousy, threatening to eat your heart.
Feyd’s appetite was insatiate, you didn’t mind sharing him with concubines – especially in your fragile state. But these three women… They simply had to go but you had no idea how to deal with that matter. He seemed to have a strong bond with them.
“What are you still doing here then?” You snapped at him angrily and looked away.
“My uncle is throwing a celebration tonight in your honour,” Feyd explained and you looked back at him, surprised.
“In my honour?” You asked in disbelief.
“You’re carrying the Harkonnen heir,” he reminded you with a proud smirk. “It is a custom to celebrate it,” he added.
“What kind of celebration?” You wanted details. Once again, this side of the Harkonnen culture was not known to you.
And to think that your father had been advertising you as a woman who was very educated in that matter.
“The nobility of Giedi Prime will come to celebrate and shower you with gifts,” Feyd watched with delight as you smiled and your eyes sparkled.
“Now you’re talking!” You were visibly excited.
“I came here to ask what kind of gift I can give to you,” Feyd’s words made you freeze for a second.
You did not expect that.
“Keep in mind I only have a few hours to get it,” he added. “So don’t ask me for impossible things.”
Suddenly, an idea popped into your head. A very delicious idea and it made your heart pound faster in your chest. You had your large victory with Feyd but you still weren’t sure how far he’d go for you, you still weren’t sure if his domestication process had been complete. This could be a great test of his obedience but it could also anger him. You decided to risk it since your new status was making you untouchable anyway.
“Well, there is something I want,” you whispered, seductively, as you looked deep inside his eyes.
“What is it?” He asked and you chuckled as you mysteriously covered your mouth with your hand. He furrowed his brow at that gesture and you beckoned him over as if you wanted to tell him a secret.
Unsurely, he leaned in for you to whisper into his ear.
“I want to be your only pet… like you are mine,” you breathed out and bit on his earlobe gently before pulling away and seeing the absolute terror on his face.
He was trying to hide it the best he could but you only smirked at him, not expanding your thoughts any further. You didn’t care what he’d do to them, you just wanted them to be discarded.
Feyd did not say anything. He took one last bite of his breakfast and left the table to walk away and walk out of the chambers. It was a little disappointing that he hadn’t given you any reaction whatsoever but you decided to give him some time to process your request and his own feelings.
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You almost had a nervous breakdown in front of your wardrobe and it felt humiliating to be so emotional about the outfit to choose. Like all these months on Giedi Prime hadn’t changed the core of your personality – you were spoiled.
“Na-baroness, please, calm down, it’s going to be alright,” Astra’s eyes widened at you.
“I don’t know what is wrong with me…” You sniffed your tears back.
“It’s the baby, I’m sure, my Lady,” Cara assured you.
“There is no point in crying over a dress, I’m so stupid,” you sat on the bed and hid your face in your hands. 
“I think there is, actually, my Lady,” Astra swallowed thickly before sharing her thought and you looked up at her, questioningly. Cara did the same thing. “I mean, na-baroness, the clothes you’re wearing, they’re reflecting your power and personality. May I dare to say… Women do not have as many opportunities to display their power as men and for noble women… the way they’re presenting themselves… that’s very important, my Lady,” she explained. “Forgive me for my boldness but on the day of your wedding, na-baroness, your dress was turned into a mockery by the na-baron. But on the day of his fight in the arena, you established your dominance with that red leather dress, my Lady,” she bowed down her head and waited for you to scold her.
“You should have just shut your mouth,” Cara hissed at her.
But you only laughed cheerfully and extended your hands towards the girls to hold them.
“Oh, girls, I adore you,” you assured them. “Thank you for your insight, Astra. You are a very smart girl and you are right,” you told her and she looked up in disbelief as her eyes sparkled. “So are you, Cara, but you need to have more courage,” you squeezed Cara’s hand to show her some of your gratitude, too.
You didn’t want to favour any of them because it could lead to the other one growing to feel resentment and betraying you. You knew perfectly well how it felt like to be the less favoured one.
They both smiled sweetly and helped you to get up to choose from the dresses all over again. You wanted to look like a Harkonnen but you wanted to stand out, too. Not only were you the na-baroness but it was also your day, your celebration, your moment to shine.
Someone knocked upon your doors and Cara went to open them to see who that was.
“We have a gift for na-baroness,” you heard a male voice and you nodded your head at Cara for her to let them in.
Two of Baron Harkonnen's servants entered your bedroom carrying a big black box. You furrowed your brows at it as one of them bowed down and handed you a letter.
My Baroness, this gown is a gift from me. My own mother wore it for her celebration after conceiving an heir. The tailors have been working on it to adjust it to your size all night. It is your decision whether to wear it for the feast or not but it would bring me great pleasure to see you in it and proving your loyalty to the House Harkonnen. – Baron H.
A chill went down your spine. You didn’t expect that. It was his attempt to show his dominance over you, to test your loyalty as if there was still some hint of doubt about it. You were a Harkonnen now. You had nothing to prove.
“Unpack it,” you ordered his servants. You wanted to see the gown first.
The skirt was made of black leather with a long and slim train that resembled a snake. The bodice was made of black metallic net so tightly knotted that it was barely transparent but there were red gemstones scattered all over it, forming an emblem of the House Harkonnen on the chest.
You didn’t know what to do. The dress was stunning but you knew that wearing it would only give Baron a satisfaction you did not want to give him. On the other hand, you didn’t want to be too openly rebellious towards him like you were with your husband. And some part of you was scared to disobey him as you had disobeyed Feyd when you had been given a dress from him.
“I will wear it, thank you,” you nodded at the servants and they nodded their heads before walking out of the room and leaving you alone with your girls.
“So, problem solved,” Astra chuckled softly as she touched the fabric of the gown with awe.
“Not entirely,” Cara scolded her. “Isn’t our na-baroness also the Duchess Atreides now? This dress is to humiliate her,” she pointed out and then gave you an apologetic smile.
“That is true, my darling,” you told her. “But I have bent my knee in front of Baron Harkonnen. House Atreides – which I represent – serves the Baron now,” you explained. “Let’s put it on,” your eyes sparkled at the gown.
The bodice felt like an armour but the skirt was regal and feminine. It was a perfect mix, you had to admit. You hated the Baron for understanding your fashion sense so quickly. Suddenly, an odd feeling crossed your mind.
“I'm wondering what he was like when he was young, The Baron,” you told your girls as they widened their eyes at you. “What kind of husband would he be…”
“My Lady!” Astra gasped and you laughed at the terror and shock on her face.
“I just like getting pretty things,” you shrugged your arms and winked at her as you admired yourself in the mirror.
“If na-baroness keeps saying such things, you might make na-baron jealous and angry,” Cara reminded you. Little did she know she had just given you a great idea.
“Oh, maybe I want that, my sweet,” you chuckled at her. “You know what?” You decided to change the subject as the girls looked at each other, surprised. “I think I want to wear my hair up this time. Do you think you can manage that now?”
“Yes!” Astra was excited for the idea. “And we can attach the red gemstones to the hairdo to match the dress!”
“Sounds good,” you nodded at her with a smile.
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You were supposed to enter the dining room as the last one, side by side with your husband for all the guests to admire you and cheer. So you were waiting in the room nearby, still admiring yourself in the mirror constantly. Feyd wasn’t there yet – in fact you hadn’t seen him since breakfast.
When the doors behind you opened without knocking, you knew already it had to be him and indeed, you spotted him in the mirror’s reflection. He was wearing his black leather uniform and squinted his eyes at you.
You turned around with a sly smile to show off your gown but he didn’t look very pleased.
“What is this dress?” He asked and you rolled your eyes.
“I hoped you’d tell me I look beautiful, dear husband,” you put your hands on your hips.
“I didn’t say you did not,” he pointed out and you smirked. “But I don’t recall giving you such a dress and I sincerely doubt it is one of those you brought with you from Caladan,” he gritted his teeth and you noticed his whole body went tense.
“It is a gift from your uncle,” you tried to sound as innocent as possible. “It was his mother’s,” you added and gasped in awe in an exaggerated way as you caressed the skirt.
“My uncle gave it to you?” Feyd approached you quickly and tugged on one of the sleeves as you squealed.
“What are you doing? Do you want to break it?!” You managed to push his hand away but his face was now inches away from yours and you could see anger spilling out of his eyes. His clenched jaw was practically shaking. “What is your problem? Can’t I accept gifts from your uncle? He is my family now as much as you are and he is my Baron whom I serve,” you added.
“I thought you wanted me to kill him,” Feyd drawled through gritted teeth.
“Maybe I don’t want that anymore. His gifts are nicer than yours,” you teased as you giggled cruelly into his face. “I mentioned to my girls earlier today that he would make a good husband if he was younger and healthier,” you continued. It was delicious to watch him in such torment but some part of you felt bad for it, too.
“You’re more stupid than I thought then,” Feyd spat out. “So disappointing.”
You let out a nervous laugh. It hadn’t gone as you expected. You had to take it back as fast as possible. You knew that he admired you for being cunning and you couldn't spoil that.
“Oh, darling,” you cupped his face and he flinched but you shushed him, “can’t you see I’m teasing you, my pet?” You raised your eyebrow at him. His muscles relaxed but his eyes were full of confusion. “You should have seen your ugly face when I was saying these things,” you giggled and you leaned in to place soft kisses upon his lips and cheeks.
“Why did you wear that dress?” He only asked after a short while, when he was less angry already.
“Because it’s pretty and I don’t want him to think that I am his enemy. He probably thinks that already but I don’t want to show it,” you explained softly. “Sometimes you have to lose a small battle in order to win the war.”
“He’s going to stare at you all evening. I hate it when he does that,” Feyd told you. You caressed his cheeks with your thumbs.
“He can stare as much as he wants. I didn’t wear it for him. I wore that for my husband and for my son,” you assured him.
These days feeding him with all these praises and sweet things felt easier than usual. These days it felt almost natural. You didn’t have to plan what to say. It was coming directly from your poisoned heart; filled with the venom of unwanted affection towards the man standing in front of you.
The guards knocked upon the door and you realised it was the time to finally leave the room and join the guests in the dining room. You took a deep breath in and lowered your arms to give your husband’s hands a squeeze before leaving his side and approaching the doors.
“Are you coming?” You looked back at him.
“I am,” he joined you and put his hand on your waist. “You look beautiful, by the way,” he smirked at you and you rolled your eyes but on the inside you felt the warmth spilling all over your body.
Feyd led you inside the dining room after you two had been announced. You were watched by the cheering people as you gracefully and slowly walked towards the podium with two large, black chairs. The Baron was sitting on the opposite side of the room and watching you with a smirk as the long train of your dress followed you as if it was a real snake indeed, slithering on the black marble floor.
You watched Feyd taking a seat on one of the chairs and you were about to sit on yours, when you felt his hands grabbing your waist and pulling you onto his lap. You didn’t want to fight him in front of all these people so you kept your smile on. And – even though it was taking away some of your dignity – it felt good, too. His right hand with the Harkonnen signet ring landed on your abdomen possessively. The long train of your dress was falling down the side of the podium as you decided to use the second chair as a footstool.
You weren’t presenting yourselves like a dignified noble couple of the future Baron and Baroness of Giedi Prime. You looked like barbarian rulers of the savage tribe; sitting lazily on your thrones and not caring much about the etiquette. It wasn’t exactly how you had planned this evening to go but you loved to spot the annoyance on the Baron’s face.
Once you were seated, the guests sat down as well and they were announced one after another to approach you, bow down and show off their gifts to you.
Lots of the presents weren’t actually for you but for your son. There were blades and knives of all sorts – all of them beautifully made. Some lords gifted you jewellery and the Bene Gesserit woman gave you an old book from the Bene Gesserit library. You couldn’t see her face behind the veil but you were sure that her eyes were watching you as carefully as the Baron’s. And as your aunt’s friend she was most likely your grandfather’s spy, too.
All the lords and ladies were back in their seats and you had a feeling it was all over now. You tried to hide your disappointment about the fact that there was no gift from Feyd when the servant announced:
“To Na-Baroness (Y/N) Harkonnen, Duchess of The House Atreides and a mother of his son, Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen presents a humble offering hoping to win her favours,” the man bowed down as three servants approached you. Each one of them was holding a black, covered plate.
Everyone was staring in anticipation, knowing your husband’s reputation they wanted to see what kind of present it could be. You felt his muscles tensing as his hand squeezed your womb even more possessively. He was excited for you to see and your heart skipped a beat as you already had a feeling what it was.
Feyd nodded at the servants and they took the black, velvet veils off of the plates as everyone gasped in shock and disgust. You tried very hard not to react in any way at the sight of the three familiar heads of your husband’s pet darlings.
You swallowed thickly, feeling his impatience to see your reaction. From the corner of your eye you noticed that the Baron was very displeased and you wondered why.
The eyes of the guests were wide as everyone on Giedi Prime had known about Feyd’s cannibalistic lovers. Everyone in the room was aware of the significance of this gift and perhaps that was the reason behind Baron’s anger.
You didn’t want to thank your husband for the present. It would be humiliating to thank him in front of everyone for getting rid of his concubines. However, he was expecting praise as the rest of the room was expecting some sort of reaction. You turned your head around to place a passionate kiss upon his lips as you cupped his cheek with one of your hands and the guests cheered. The servants took the heads away and you were glad because the sight was making you feel sick.
As you were kissing Feyd who seemed to be very proud of himself, you realised that you had just killed people. Perhaps not directly but they died because of your order and your request. These creatures were twisted and sick and dangerous but they were still – in some way – people. You remembered your father’s words about taking human life.
People should not decide about other people’s right to live or die. As noblemen in power we are burdened with the responsibility of making such decisions way more often than we should. It is important to remember the value of each and every single human life.
You didn’t want to think of that. You didn’t want that feeling somewhere deep in your heart that you disappointed your father. He was dead and he was the one who had sent you here, causing you to become like this. He would have no right to judge you. You wanted to survive more than anything because the life you had been living so far was not satisfying enough. And now, orphaned and basically homeless, you finally could make a new life for yourself. This time everything would be on your terms.
You finished the kiss with a smile as you leaned in to peck Feyd’s lips again with a sweet chuckle. The servants placed a table in front of you as the feast was supposed to begin.
“Good boy,” you whispered to him.
“My Lady,” he nodded his head at you with a wide smile, showing off his black teeth. This time it didn’t even make you flinch as you had grown used to his face. Perhaps it was because of the child in your womb but you leaned in once again to put yet another kiss upon his lips and he eagerly kissed you back.
Feyd kept you on his lap during the feast. You were feeding him his almost raw steak with your fork and he was feeding you with cake that had been prepared for your celebration. You remembered your wedding celebration and chuckled to yourself how different these two banquets were.
At some point of digging the fork and knife into Feyd’s steak, you felt your mouth watering at the sight of blood leaking out of it on the plate. It deeply confused you since you had always found these disgusting.
“What is it, pet?” Feyd placed a kiss on your neck, waiting for another piece of meat you’d feed him with.
“It’s nothing, I…” You hesitated, your eyes fixated on the steak with a mix of fascination and confusion. Feyd noticed it and laughed at you.
“Try it,” he encouraged you but you shook your head, refusing. “Try it,” he took the fork from your hand and turned your head around before putting the piece of meat in front of your mouth. “He wants it, not you. It’s for him,” the hand he kept on your abdomen squeezed your womb. You still looked unsure. “He’s a Harkonnen, he has his needs,” Feyd explained.
“I’m a Harkonnen, too,” you whispered and he smirked.
“Then open your mouth like a good girl,” he ordered and you obeyed, not ever breaking eye contact. When the piece of a bloody steak was inside your mouth already, you let it melt a little on your tongue. Feyd placed his hand on your throat possessively but gently – his intention was not to hurt you but to feel you swallow.
You couldn’t tell the steak was delicious but it surprisingly was not as awful as you had expected. It had to be the effect of your pregnancy but you didn’t want to refuse your son anything he wanted. You wanted him to be born as strong as he could and to become a warrior even greater than his father.
As Feyd was staring at you with admiration, you suddenly realised that it would be so much easier to turn your son into another guard dog of yours. You could give Feyd many sons and each of them would be willing to kill for his mother and her ambitions. You got dreamy for a while, sincerely hoping Feyd wouldn’t insist on raising his children the same way he had been raised by his uncle. Despite your dream of having strong warriors sons, you didn't want them to achieve that through pain and losing a sense of humanity.
You gave Feyd a sweet smile and let him kiss you once more, not caring at all what all the guests had to think. And caring only a little about the Baron’s visible anger.
After a while the guests left their seats as they began approaching one another and exchanging courtesies. Many of them walked up to you to congratulate you personally. It felt delightful to see so much fear and respect in the eyes of those Harkonnen men who had looked so scary to you a few months earlier but now you saw them as nothing but pathetic.
You spotted that one of the Harkonnen ladies looked surprisingly familiar. She was talking to another woman. She had a hooded dress but for a brief while you were convinced that you could spot… hair. Astra and Cara had informed you that sometimes Harkonnen noble women were wearing wigs to look prettier but you had also been aware that nowadays it was considered as a faux pas because of you and your very real and very natural hair.
“Excuse me,” you left your husband’s side and left him with one of the lords. He was watching you walk away but he did not stop you.
With your heart squeezed in your chest, you touched a shoulder of one of those women and they both turned around, startled. You gasped at the sight of them.
They were your old maids you had brought with you from Caladan. The ones that had been given to the Harkonnen noble lords.
“My Lady…” They both bowed down and you looked them up and down.
Both of them were swollen with children and their faces looked exhausted. You could swear that their skin was a shade paler than you remembered. One of them had her hair shaved off completely but the other one kept her locks and she also had makeup on.
“My girls, where have you been?” You asked them with a gentle smile. “I hope your husbands treat you well,” you added as you touched their arms and they both flinched, especially the bald one.
“I can’t complain, na-baroness,” the one with hair told you. “Beginnings were difficult but now I’m a lady and not a maid,” she placed her hand on her swollen belly.
“I am very sorry, I hope you both know I had nothing to do with what happened,” you bit on your lower lip.
“My Lady, I have accepted my faith a long time ago,” she sighed. “My husband is not as handsome as yours, na-baroness, but he is worshipping me for my looks. I am sorry for keeping my real hair, I know it is rude to show it off around you, my Lady. That is why I have a hood on my head. But my husband doesn’t allow me to cut it. In fact, he wants them to be as long as they can get,” she explained.
“I do not mind you wearing hair on your head,” you told her. “Yours is real, you have a right to wear it.”
“But not to show it off, my Lady,” she explained.
“Is that some new law I’ve had no idea of?” You chuckled, watching the other one from the corner of your eye. She was acting extremely odd and her pupils were dilated to the point her eyes almost looked black.
“Not officially, no, as far as I am concerned,” your former maid explained, “but the Baron himself was telling the lords that their wives should not wear wigs because it is insulting to the new na-baroness,” she bowed down slightly.
“And what about you, darling? What happened to your beautiful hair?” You looked at the other one as she gasped and bowed down as well, nervously.
“M-my na-baroness,” she stuttered out.
“What is wrong with her?” You asked the other one.
“Her husband, he…”
“My husband is the greatest and the most generous man I could ever ask for, my Lady,” the startled one interrupted her as she widened her eyes even further at you. “There is not a day I am not grateful for him,” she continued and you squinted your eyes at her. You had given the same speech to your grandfather the other day about Feyd-Rautha. But your speech was purposefully planned out and she sounded like a programmed machine.
You wanted to ask her about more things when you noticed a huge and very unpleasant looking Harkonnen lord approaching you angrily. He bowed down at the sight of you but then he grabbed the bald woman by her arm and pulled her closer to him.
“What have I told you about walking away?!” He scolded her.
“I-I am so sorry, my Lord, please forgive me, I did not mean to disobey, please, my Lord…” She trembled.
“My Lord,” you told him and he laid his angry eyes at you, “it is my fault. I wanted to speak to my former maid. Please, I did not mean to steal your wife away from you.”
“Na-baroness doesn’t have to explain herself to me,” he bowed down to you. “It is an honour for you to speak to my wife, my Lady,” he added and dragged her away with him.
You watched with shock, terror and sadness but there was nothing you could do. You had to be a harsh na-baroness Harkonnen and accept their customs. You didn’t want to make scenes and ruin your own celebration.
After all, you were selfish, too.
“Mine is not like that,” the other woman only told you. “There he is,” she pointed at the man talking to Feyd-Rautha. The men looked at you and you both waved at them as they nodded. Her husband was not very good looking indeed but he wasn’t as scary as the other one. “I told you, my Lady, it could be worse,” she told you. “But be careful with the pregnancy,” she warned as you raised an eyebrow at her.
“What do you mean?”
“These babies… their babies, I mean… They change you. I hope not permanently, but they do. And I feel as if the child is feeding off of my life energy and strength. I am weakened and exhausted,” she sighed. “But it is alright. I know my husband will not let me die.”
“I do not have to worry about these things either,” you reminded her but some part of you tried to convince yourself at the same time.
“Of course, my Lady,” she nodded her head and your husbands approached you.
“I see a little reunion, my Lady,” your former maid’s husband bowed down at you. “Congratulations, na-baroness.”
“I congratulate you, too, my Lord,” you pointed at the woman’s abdomen and he smirked as he pulled her closer to him.
“I will forever be grateful to you, na-baroness, for bringing such a gem with you all the way from Caladan,” he told you and you gave him a faint smile. “Please, do forgive me for letting me keep her hair.”
“I don’t mind her hair, my Lord,” you told him.
“As long as she’s not showing it off,” suddenly Feyd barked as you furrowed your brow at him.
“Feyd!” You chuckled nervously, ashamed of his behaviour.
“It is understandable, my Lord na-baron,” the man bowed his head and walked away with his wife.
“What was that?” You asked your husband.
“No common lady shall outshine my wife,” he explained with his jaw clenched.
“Please,” you laughed softly as you cupped his angry face, “she’s my former maid. How could she ever outshine me?” You asked him and then you teased. “Do you think I am so easy to outshine, dear husband?”
“N-no, that is not what I meant,” his eyes widened as he shook his head. “I want you to be the only woman on this planet to shine.”
“Then don’t stand in the way of light,” you leaned in to whisper into his ear and then you giggled before kissing his cheek.
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Feyd was asked to stay longer at the celebration by some of the lords who wanted to drink and party with him and other men but you decided to go to your chambers as the rest of the ladies. It was late already and you were getting tired so you said goodnight to your husband and the guests before excusing yourself and walking out of the dining room.
For the first time you noticed that there was no guard following you and your exhaustion suddenly turned into excitation. Since everyone was busy with the celebrations and you were free of company, it was a perfect excuse to wander a little around the fortress and through the corridors that you still had not explored properly.
It was your home now and you wanted to know all of it. At this point you had a few paths memorised already and you took the known one just in case you got lost and couldn’t find the way back. You passed the doors leading to the library and you pushed the next one open.
It was a Memory Room as they called it and it had the Harkonnen souvenirs and war trophies on display. You weren’t actually forbidden to go there at all but you had never gone there anyway. You had read about it in one of the books and you wanted to see it yourself but without any guard staring at you.
At this point of the night, the room was dark and empty with no one guarding it and the guards who were supposed to stand outside were most likely partying with other men as they abandoned their duties for the time of celebration.
You gasped at the size of the room as you looked around and allowed your eyes to get used to the darkness. Then you began walking around and looking at the exhibits behind the glass. The Harkonnen enemies were many and great and yet, all that was left of them remained now nothing but a trophy in this room.
There were other artefacts as well – like the one you were looking for. And when you finally spotted it, at the end of the wall, you smiled to yourself as you looked up. It was the blade given to you by the warrior during your wedding ceremony. He had won the bloody contest and swore to you that for his na-baroness he would shed the blood of his enemies. The blade still had dried up blood on it and below the exhibit there was an engraved inscription.
10191 AG – the blade given to Na-Baroness (Y/N) Harkonnen of The House Atreides on the day of her wedding to Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen from The Wedding Games winner Maxim Arseni
Lost in your thoughts of your name being engraved there forever, you stopped paying attention to your surroundings.
“I see you’re basking in your glory, Baroness,” a familiar, unpleasant voice startled you. You turned around and spotted the Baron himself floating in the air in the middle of the room with all his machinery behind him. How could you not hear him coming? You cursed yourself for allowing yourself to be so inattentive.
And now you were alone with him in a dark room when your husband was partying with other lords and couldn’t hear you even if you screamed for help.
“I am not basking, my Lord,” you bowed down slightly as you approached him a little to be able to see him more, “and surely I have no glory attached to my name yet.”
He smirked.
“You wore the dress,” he pointed out.
“It is beautiful, my Lord, thank you,” you nodded.
“Do you know that the harpies were my gift to Feyd for one of his birthdays? They costed me quite a lot as they had been genetically modified for him. He had a tendency of getting bored of his previous pets so I prepared him something special. He was mesmerised by them and their infinite sexual desire, their bloodthirst and devotion,” Baron was explaining to you but you could hear irritation in his voice.
Now you could understand why he was so angry. You accidentally told his dear nephew to get rid of his expensive gift.
“Did you tell him to get rid of them or did that boy do it himself?” Baron asked and you remained silent because both answers would only make it worse.
If you told him it had been your idea, he’d get his proof that you were playing a game indeed. If you lied to him it had been Feyd’s idea, he’d start thinking that Feyd was getting weak.
Unless…
“I asked him to get rid of them, my Lord. I’ve had no idea they were so meaningful,” you admitted. “But I did not specify what I want to be done to them. Their death surprised me no less than you, my Baron. His bond with them was known to me,” you added as genuinely as possible.
“I am aware what game you’re playing, Baroness,” Baron’s voice was surprisingly calm, almost as if he admired you. “Such a timid little thing that came here only a few months ago, tripping as she walked towards my throne on the first day… already making my life more exciting,” his eyes sparkled.
“You forgot how it’s like to have real enemies, did you not, my Lord?” You asked him, carefully. “They’re all so scared of you that they don’t even walk up close to you anymore. They are no worthy opponents. Even my father did not dare to fight you, he preferred to give me away for peace.”
“Your father was weak, Duchess Atreides,” Baron pointed out.
“I know,” you shrugged your arms.
“So you do know what use there is of weak men. Do you really want our Feyd to become one?” He asked and you were almost caught off guard by the tone of his voice. He was talking to you as if you were an equal.
He already knew that he was losing his control over Feyd-Rautha to you but he still hoped to share him.
Of course you couldn’t trust him. He was pretending to be your friend for his own gain. However, it meant that you had been promoted in the ladder of his enemies if his strategy was no longer humiliation and threats but fake friendship instead.
“I do not wish him to be weak,” you explained. “It is the last thing I want,” you told him, truthfully. “What you did to him… was awful. But it is something that cannot be taken back and it is something I do not want to take back,” you emphasised. 
“Yet now, after seeing his gift, all the Harkonnen lords are whispering between each other that my successor is getting weak for a woman,” Baron informed you and you gritted your teeth. If he wasn’t lying, the news were not pleasing you either. But it was useful for your little plan. “And what do we do now, my Baroness?” Baron asked.
“Let him fight in the arena,” you proposed, trying to hide the excitement on your face. He couldn’t know it was a part of your scheming, he had to think it was an idea that had just popped into your head. 
“Hmm,” he hummed to himself. “What do you mean?”
“It’s going to be his hundredth kill, right?” You asked and he nodded. “And as far as I am concerned it’s going to be his birthday, too.”
“Yes, has he told you?” Baron laughed.
“No, my servants have,” you answered truthfully. “I think for this special occasion you should give him a real warrior to kill. Not someone weak and not someone drugged. Let these whispering lords see how weak he is getting indeed. They’re quickly going to see that they were wrong about him. I’ve watched him fight and he’s excellent,” you finished.
“Interesting,” Baron squinted his eyes at you. “But also very convenient for you if he dies there. Because you're already carrying his son.”
“I have no gain in Feyd dying in the arena,” you laughed at him. “If he dies there, you’re going to kill me the moment I push the baby out and train him like you trained my husband,” you told him and then you realised that it was really true.
A shiver went down your spine. You suddenly regretted your proposition but it could not be taken back now.
“I will think of that,” Baron nodded his head at you. “You should go to sleep now and rest,” he added and you bowed down before approaching the doors, trying not to show how much you wanted to get away as fast as possible. “However,” he started and you slowed down with your hand already on the doors’ handle, “you think that I resent you way more than I actually do, Baroness,” he added and you swallowed thickly before nodding your head and walking out.
You sighed with relief at the sight of the familiar corridor and you hurried to the staircase leading to the living quarters to finally go back to your room.
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MASTERLIST
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tinyluvs · 7 months
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i have this vision for Spencer smut where he makes reader squirt for the first time and reader is absolutely flabbergasted because she didn’t know she could do that and Spencer is also flabbergasted because he didn’t know she could do that 💀
you see the vision?? idk but if you end up doing this i love you
i see the vision pookie i gotchu 😌 enjoy ! *mdni!!*
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spencer kisses the inside of your thigh when you come the first time, lips wet with your slick, dragging over the inside of your leg while you whimper
the second time you come he rests his forehead on your stomach, nipping gently over your hips, his free hand holding your body down as it arches off of the bed, your fingers tugging on his hair
he swallows your moans the third time, kissing you softly when your thighs tremble either side of his hips, "so good for me," he pauses to mumble against your kiss swollen lips
it's been hours, you're sure of it, hours of him gently kissing every inch of your skin while he entices whimpers and whines from you with his fingers
"spence," you pant, voice barely above a whisper. he hovers over you, taking in the way your eyelashes are wet from tears that have slipped down your cheeks. he hums before dipping to kiss your cheeks
slowly he slips his fingers from your body, which causes you to whimper so he shushes you quietly, moving to drag his knuckles up and down your folds, missing your sensitive clit every time
your fingers dig into his forearm, nails biting into his skin though he doesn't even flinch over it, "one more, sweetheart," he whispers against your jaw, his stubble starting burn gently over your soft skin
"i don't think i can," you gasp, your voice getting higher when he starts to rub soft, light circles over your clit. your hand shoots down his arm, your fingers wrapping around his wrist, "i can't,"
spencer hums, "you can angel, one more, i promise," he drags his teeth over your collarbone, smiling when you tip your head back, just like he wanted you to, "yeah?" he asks while nipping at your neck
he pauses his movements, waiting for you to reply. his eyes flicker over your face, a moment of seriousness passing between you as he tells you if you need to tap out, you can, without saying a single word
the moment ends when you reply, a soft, "yeah," tumbling from your lips while you tug on his wrist, moving his fingers back to your puffy pussy
you're still soaked, drips of slick coating your cunt, the inside of your thighs and your boyfriend's hand. he teases his fingers at your entrance, barely pressing them into you before pulling away
"please," you whine, looking up at him, your knees bumping against his ribs in a desperate effort to get him to do something, anything, "spencer,"
"i know, i know," he says softly, his eyes trailing down your body and between your legs as he pushes his fingers into you, the stretch somehow still burning slightly, "breathe," he says, pausing again when you clench around him
he breathes deeply, knowing you'll mimic his actions, like you always do before raising an eyebrow at you, a silent question, "i'm okay," you reassure, "move, please,"
spencer dips one last time, kissing you hard as he starts to move. your cunt makes a wet, sticky sound as he slides his fingers in, curling immediately to press against a spot that has your hips rolling
"oh god," you cry out, your voice sounding a little raw. the ball of heat in your stomach hasn't left from your last orgasm, you're sure spencer would just have to look at you right and you could come
he starts to speed up, moaning softly to himself when your pussy starts to squelch, strings of your slick connecting his fingers together, "so pretty,"
his teeth sink into his bottom lip, eyebrows furrowing as he pushes deep into you, the tips of his fingers hitting exactly where you need him, "th- fuck, there, stay there,” you babble, brain turning to mush
spencer doubles down, curling and dragging his fingers with earnest, revelling in the way his motions pull a string of pretty sounds from you, a mix of moans, whines and whimpers because words are failing you
the burn in your stomach grows but it feels different, a pressure inside of you that you've never felt before though it feels far too good for you to care
"doing so good," spencer leans over you, his free hand tickling over your hips, thumb rubbing deep circles into you skin. you clench around him, a silent sob trapping in your throat, "so good,"
tears stream down your cheeks, soaking the pillow underneath your head as fire spreads through your body, leaving your nerves tingling. spencer pulls his fingers from you but before you can make a sound he's sliding them straight back in at a slightly different angle
"please," is all you can manage as the air gets punched from your lungs when he returns to that spot, pressing and rubbing hard over it, knowing how close you are to your orgasm
your boyfriend watches your stomach tensing, your tits rising and falling with your chest and he feels your knees trembling at his sides, your cunt closing in around his fingers
"uh huh, come on pretty girl," he starts, fully aware at what his words do to you, "so close for me," he pauses when you interrupt with a high pitched whine, "i know," he finishes, moving his hand to brush his fingers over your clit
the harshness against your sensitive clit sends you over the edge, your back arches away from the mattress, somehow pushing spencers fingers into you even further and you're done for
your cunt floods, wetness gushing from you and soaking everything around you. the stream doesn't let up, a puddle forming underneath your ass, "don't stop," you sob
spencer moans, loudly, gritting his teeth as he continues his attack on your cunt, his eyes trained as he quickens his pace, a man starved and it pays off when your breathe in deep, holding it between puffed out cheeks as your entire body stiffens
his thumb flicks against your clit and you're sure you black out, thighs practically vibrating from the intensity as you soak the sheets further for a second time
"oh my god, angel," you barely hear spencer over the pounding in your ears. his fingers slip from your body again and he moves, allowing your thighs to press together, "i didn't know you could do that,"
"neither did i," you pant, struggling to breathe as he hovers over you, wet fingers stroking underneath your tit. minutes pass before you're bought back down to earth and only then do you see the mess you've created, “oh god,”
spencer chuckles lightly at your reaction though his eyes are wide and his jaw hangs open slightly as he also takes in the mess
your boyfriend is soaked, his hand and arm have droplets running down his skin, the thighs of his pyjama bottoms and a portion of his shirt darker than the rest. the puddle underneath you soaks into the sheets, leaving them stuck to your already damp skin
"no more," you slur slowly, looking at spencer with wet eyes. he smiles at you, using his dry hand to stroke through your hair
"no more," he repeats, "not now, anyway"
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thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily !! send prompts to my ask box!
❥ spencer reid masterlist !!
a/n as always, proofread badly so feel free to lemme know if there’s any mistakes :) x
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