#LY REALLY PLEASE COME HOME

[sar3nka]

Am in in love with her or am I throwing myself at the worst person I know because subconciously I think I deserve to suffer

#i feel like im losing my mind. seriously. why did she lie so many times #or did everyone else lie? but then why would so many diffrent people just decide to lie and make her look bad? #in the end it really does feel like im trying to reach someone who doesnt exist anymore. its likes she is there but so deep down #under all the acting and lies and drugs #please just stop lying stop acting. laugh with me how we used to. please come home. please be okay #with what shes done i dont know if i can ask anyone for advice atp. its like. itd be a shitty person for not hating her

[zreamy]

i'll love you forever

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

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

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

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

word count: 21,858

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

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

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

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

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

Or to you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But the night was missing its usual comforts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon cries again. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sunghoon, a word?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You will?” 

“Yes. Goodbye.” 

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

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

With a lump in his throat, Sunghoon nods. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“From here?” he asks, incredulous. 

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

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

“Open the boot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until tonight at least. 

“Are you okay?” he whispers. 

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

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

“What happened?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No one’s looking, boyfriend.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You two okay back there?” she asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Leave ours,” you say. “If you want.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What for?” 

“Everything.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t.” 

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

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

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

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

“Nowhere.” 

“You told him you were staying on campus?” 

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

“So you just left?” 

“Does it make a difference to you?” 

Sunghoon nods.

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

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

“Was it?” he asks. “Because of me?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I still should’ve been there.” 

“You’re here now, right?” 

Sunghoon nods, earnestly. “Always.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” 

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

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

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

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

“What’s this for?” she asks. 

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

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

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

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

His chest tightens when you start crying. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t respond. 

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

“But you’re so pretty,” you coo. 

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

“Go back to sleep,” he says. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, me too.” 

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

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

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

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

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

hoonie: I missed you so much.. 

hoonie: 🤍

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

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

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

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

“The longest of my life.” 

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

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

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

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

“You’re disgusting.” 

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

“Shut up.” 

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

“Don’t touch him.”

“Oh?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

you: sounds good, see u later 🤍

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

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

hoonie: Do you want to head to class together? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hums, nodding his head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Deal.” 

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

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

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

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

“How are your notes so good?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes. It’s three a.m.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“You seem fine to me.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell me.” 

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

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

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

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

Yeonjun did.

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

Oh, you think. Lovesickness. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi,” you said, clearing your throat. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you: i have news wonie..  i like sunghoon

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

hoonie: Wanna study together after class? 

you: of course!!!!!! 

hoonie: 🤍

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

you: class just finished, heading to lib rn 

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

you: i’ll try..

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

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

“Are you hot?” you blurt out. 

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

“I’m asking,” you mumble. 

“Then, yeah, I’d hope so.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re distracting.”

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

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

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

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

Oh. 

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

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

“Are you going to get that?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want to.” 

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

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

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

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

You nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thankfully tonight, it’s the first one. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon nods. “For closure.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You love him. He’s gone. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod. “So much.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please can I be your boyfriend?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

hoonie: Finger slipped.. You like?

you: mm.. 

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

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

you: i love it………….

hoonie: My girl 🤍

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

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

hoonie: Thx 😁

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A good something?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t have to be.”

“I just want to be good for you.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hums in affirmation, nodding his head. 

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

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

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

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

You nod. “You can.” 

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

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

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

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

“And this? If you want..” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t want to hurt you.”

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

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

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

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

“Hoon,” you whisper. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you: i’m so sorry we lied to you..

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

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

© zreamy (2023), all rights reserved. do not repost, translate, or plagiarise my work. do let my know your thoughts !

permanent taglist: @asahicore

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

[darkbluekies]

OMG SILAS WEDDING? YES PLZ THAT SOUNDS SO GOOD

Saying 'I do' is like a death sentence

Yandere!mafia OC x reader

Sumamry: Silas gets you to marry him

Warnings: threats, mentions of murder, guns, forced marriage, dubcon kiss?, violence, mentions of punishment, trauma from said punishments, possessiveness, jealousy, family drama

Word count: 3.5k

Things have been awfully quiet these last days and you've noticed a certain spark in Silas’s eyes. You didn't think much of it before seeing his second in command — whose eyes are normally dead — light up. But no one has talked to you.

You’re sitting in the window, looking out over the front yard and the houses down the street. You’ve seen school children come home from school and their parents join them with grocery bags. They’re living so … normally.

There's a knock on the door, which makes you even more confused. Silas doesn't knock on his own bedroom door. His second in command walks in.

“Y/N, you're going to come with me”, he says.

“Why?” you question.

“You will see. Come.”

You hesitate. Silas has told you countless times to never listen to any of his men, never walk somewhere with them. The only one you should listen to is Silas, the only one you should ever walk somewhere with is Silas. He has tested you before to see if you would leave the house with any of his members … and you’ve been greatly punished for it.

But Silas’s trusts his second in command … you know that he would never betray Silas.

“You don’t need to be afraid”, the second in command says and waves at you to come over.

“I don’t want to be punished …”, you whisper.

He takes a step forward. You press yourself closer to the window. It’s another trap, you’re certain of it. Silas is standing outside the room, waiting for you to take the bait. This is the final level, to see if you would listen to the man he trusts the most, one that you think that you can listen to. You shake your head quickly.

“Y/N, you can trust me”, his second in command says and puts his hand on his chest. “I swear on my mother’s life that I won’t get you into trouble.”

“Has Silas told you to get me?” you question carefully.

“Yes.”

Slowly, you get down from the window and walk over to him. He puts his hand on your back to guide you out of the room, into the corridor and down the stairs. Your heart is beating loudly against your ribs. What if the second in command is lying?

“Where is he?” you ask as you make your way down to the first floor.

“I am taking you to him”, the second in command says calmly.

You stop and turn to him. “Please promise me that this isn’t a test, and that I’m not going to get punished.”

“Y/N, I’m not lying to you. Silas have asked me personally to drive you to him.”

“Why?”

“You will find out once we get there.”

“Okay …”

You follow him out to a car. He holds the backseat door open and lets you jump in.

“Put on a seatbelt or else Silas will kill me”, he tells you.

You pull the seatbelt over your body and clicks it into place while the second in command walks around the car to sit down in the driver’s seat. You watch the houses as you drive by.

“I really thought that this was going to be one of those tests …”, you admitted hesitantly while scratching your nails. “I really don’t want to go down to the basement again.”

“I understand that.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Depends.”

“Don’t you ever feel bad for … what happens in the basement? To any of the people unfortunate to end down there?”

“Not necessarily. Most of the people that gets thrown down there has done something to deserve it. You see, Y/N, Silas never hurts anyone without a reason. If he could have it his way he wouldn’t hurt anyone, but people are stupid enough to cross and challenge him.”

“What would he do without it? Isn’t that how you’re supposed to survive and climb the ladder in this world?”

“He would do his business and trading without hurting anyone. In a perfect world, people pay on time and doesn’t try to steal territory. No human likes hurting anyone else — unless they’re psychopaths, but that’s rare. Even the most gruesome killers have guilt.”

“But how can he hurt someone he loves? I could never do what he does to someone I love.”

“I won’t meddle in your relationship, because that’s not my business, but things aren’t black and white.”

“I wish things could be colorful for once.”

The second in command sighs and turns on the radio. You listen to the music as the landscape outside the car swishes by. You don’t recognise anything, except for a supermarket chain that you used to shop at. Soon, you start to think that the silence between you two feels sickening. You can’t stop thinking about what awaits you once the car stops.

“I know that you’re not allowed to actually conversate with me, but can we just … talk about anything?” you sigh and shrug while trying to find a suitable conversation topic. “Could be about the weather.”

“The weather?” the second in command scoffs and smiles in amusement. “Fuck no.”

“How far is it left?”

“Around fifteen minutes.”

“You don't talk much normally, don't you?”

“I talk when I have important things to say. Otherwise, why should I? I get paid to act, not to talk.”

“I don’t get paid at all.”

The second in command tugs at his smile. “You still have it better than the majority of us.”

When the car finally stops, you look around to see that you’re by the beach. The second in command opens the door for you and helps you out. You look around and feel your heart sink when you see where Silas is, and what’s surrounding him. Candles and flower petals. You stop right in your tracks as you go stone cold. You’ve feared for this day.

“What are you stopping for?” the second in command asks and gives you a small push. “Come on.”

You notice a gun in his hands. On stiff, frozen legs you stumble towards Silas. The sand feels heavy under your feet. Silas smiles and takes your hand.

“I think you can guess what I’m going to do”, he says cheekily and takes up a small, black box out his pocket.

You shake your head, but Silas doesn’t seem to notice — or care. He gets down on one knee. You try to pull your hand out of his grip, but he tightens it.

“I don’t think words can explain the amount of love I feel for you”, he starts.

It’s not love. It simply can’t be.

“I know that I want to spend my entire life with you”, he says, looking up at you in awe.

“N-No … wait-”

He opens the box. “Will you marry me?”

You can’t breathe. You know that if you answer no, you might get to taste the gun in the second in command’s hands and you’ll definitely end up in the basement. But you can’t answer yes. If you do, you will be bound to Silas for all eternity. You will have to wear a ring claimed by him, take his name, officially be his. You will be known as his husband/wife forever.

“Y/N, I think that you better want to answer ‘yes’”, he whispers warningly, “for your own sake.”

You hesitate, going through every possible scenario. Every scenario where you decline him ends in physical and mental pain — not only to you, but probably to your family as well. If you accept his proposal, you will trap yourself deeper into his spider web and get tortured for the rest of your life, but you won’t piss him off. You can’t win, no matter what you choose.

“Okay …”, you whisper in defeat. “I will.”

Silas’s face lights up. He shoots up from his knee, wraps his muscular arms around you and devours your lips with his. He pulls your hand to him and places a ring on your finger. The ring is made of a shimmering gold and multiple glistening diamonds. You can’t help but stare at it.

“Congratulations, boss”, his second in command smiles. “You’re going to have a marvelous wedding.”

“Let’s go to a restaurant to celebrate this”, Silas smiles and start to walk with you in his arms. He gives his second in command a tap on the shoulder. “You too.”

The man smiles and follows.

You eat at his favorite restaurant, but you can’t seem to swallow any of the food. A lump has formed in the back of your mouth, preventing anything from passing it. Silas conversates with his second in command, only noticing your sulking after finishing his own food.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” he asks, touching your cheek. “Are you not hungry?”

You shake your head.

“That’s okay”, Silas says softly and caresses your shoulder. “Do you want to take it in a togo-bag?”

You nod.

That evening when you get back home, you’re allowed to sit at Silas’s place at the end of the long rectangular table in the dining room with your heated food. You can hear Silas’s men move through the house. Silas and his second in command are in his office to plan the wedding.

You notice that someone is about to sit down on the first chair of the long side of the table. A man you have never spoken to before.

“Hi, care if I keep you company?” he asks.

Too shocked to answer, he takes your silence as ‘yes’ and sits down. You glance at the open door towards the hall and swallow thickly.

“You shouldn’t-”, you try to tell him, to warn him about Silas, but he cuts you off.

“I heard that you got engaged today”, the man says slowly and looks down at your ring. “I guess that I have to say ‘congratulations’.”

“Yeah … thanks …”, you mumble dreadfully. “But you really should-”

Your sentence is cut off by the man in the chair getting ripped up by a harsh force. You hadn’t heard Silas and his second in command leave the office.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Silas questions and pushes the man away from you. “Do you have a death wish?!”

He signals for his second in command to get rid of the man. Silas sighs heavily, runs his hand through his black hair and sinks down on the same chair he had ripped his worker from. You avoid his eyes.

“Are you okay, little thing?” he asks and you can hear how he’s trying to stay calm. “Why didn’t you tell him to walk the fuck away?”

“I tried”, you mumble. “Twice.”

“He knows better than to talk to you. Seems like you’re even more irresistible now that you have a ring on your finger.” He sighs and rubs your back. “You’re mine, and soon they all will know.”

Days go by. Silas’s second in command takes you to try dresses/suits, but for the most of the time you’re in your bedroom, waiting. Every day takes you closer to your wedding day, that horrifying moment.

And finally, one day, it’s time. Silas’s second in command has taken you to a venue where you’ve gotten your own room to get ready in, but when the time is due for you to walk out and say your vowels, you refuse to come out of the room. There’s nothing you want less than to get married in front of people that you hate. You can’t imagine anything more humiliating.

“Y/N, come on”, the second in command says as he opens the door. “Everyone is waiting!”

“I don’t want to do it!” you burst out, full on panic.

“Silas have spent a lot of time and thought about this for you. He has even invited your family. Would be a shame if they came here for nothing, don’t you think? Don’t you think that they want to see you again? Don’t you want to see them one last time?”

You give the second in command a glare. He walks over and grabs your arm, helping you up on your feet.

“Come on”, he says. “We don’t have all day.”

He’s going to walk you down the aisle to deliver you over to Silas, as planned and try to pull your arm away from the second in command, but his grip on you tightens. The second you get into the venue and see the rows of chairs filled with Silas’s men, his family and your family, you stop, eyes tearing up when seeing your parents. Realization hits you again. You’re not only getting married, you’re also saying goodbye to your old life — a life that you will never get to live again. The second in command drags you past all the guests, over to Silas. You stare at your family, taking them in. Haven’t they changed since last you’ve seen them? Aren’t they looking older? Do they think that you’re different? Do they still recognize you as their little boy/girl? Silently wishing that they would stand up and object to everything happening, you continue your way down the aisle, towards Silas. Surely they have to understand that you’re not doing this by your own will? You would rather be at home with them.

You feel how the second in command moves you over to Silas. The ceremony seem to go by in a fuzzy daze. Words are being said but you're not sure who says them. You're brought back to reality when you hear Silas say ‘I do’. Your first instinct is to pull yourself away from him, but he doesn't let you.

“Your turn, Y/N”, he whispers with a tilted smile. “Tell everyone how you're giving yourself to me.”

Time seems to have stopped. You look out over the audience, at your poor family. They look nauseous. You wonder what kind of threats they have been told to keep them silent in their seats.

And you notice someone else — someone you never thought Silas would invite. Ares. You know that he hates his little brother with all his might, why would he invite him to his wedding? The day that's supposed to be his best day ever. You guess that the older couple by him are Silas's and Ares's parents. You have never met them before, but it's clear who Silas’s has gotten his face from. He's a spitting image of his father. Ares resembles their mother more.

Silas opens up his blazer to show you a gun, which you don't have to doubt is loaded.

“If you — or anyone — tries to object in this marriage, Y/N”, he starts with a dark voice, dangerously close to your face to make sure that no one will hear, “they'll die. Do you understand that?”

You nod unnoticeably, too mortified to do anything else. You understand him very well, and you believe him.

“You better say ‘I do’”, he whispers, voice even darker. “You belong to me. You are mine. Do not ever forget that.”

“Promise me that they won't get hurt”, you whisper as quietly as you can.

He takes your hand.

“I promise”, he says and kisses your knuckles harshly. “Say it.”

You clear your throat to make sure everyone will hear you, so that you don't have to repeat yourself. Giving yourself to this man once is enough.

“I do”, you say.

Everyone but your family and Ares claps. You're puzzled by the look on Silas's parents faces, as if they're not happy but still want to support their son. The rest of the cheering guests wear bright smiles, happy for their boss. You don't dare look at your family.

A new, bigger and more flashy ring gets placed on your finger and you put Silas’s new ring on his with shaking hands. You try to pull the collar of your clothing to the side, to be able to breathe.

You've kissed Silas’s before, but never like this. Never in front of so many people. You don't have time to think before his lips are on yours and you accept it, knowing that you've already signed your life away, refusing to kiss him won't change a thing.

The afterparty goes on without you. You don’t want to see everyone celebrating you when you never want this in the first place. You are allowed to go back to the room where you had gotten ready and sit in your solitude. You can’t help the tears running down your cheeks in silence. What have you done? Could you have done something differently? No, you couldn't. If you did, your family would get hurt. Instead, you’ve trapped yourself in a venomous spider’s trap.

You hear the door open and hurry to wipe your tears.

“Uh … hi”, a familiar voice says.

You turn to watch Ares close the door behind him. You freeze. If Silas finds him here, your wedding will be even worse … and frankly, after everything Ares have done to you, you don’t want to be alone with him either. You stand up and try to leave the room, but he stops you.

“Wait, let me talk to you”, he says.

“Don’t touch me”, you hiss.

He pulls his hand back and sighs.

“It shouldn’t be you and Silas”, he says in defeat. “You didn’t want to marry him, I saw that. We can run away now and you’ll never have to see him again.”

The proposition alone makes you scoff.

“And why would I want to go anywhere with you?” you spit angrily. “You’re as sick as Silas! I don’t want anything to do with any of you. It’s bad enough that I’m stuck with one … I don’t need the other. Leave.”

Ares twitches his black eyebrows and pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Alright then. Guess I’ll have to force you with me.”

“If you touch me I will scream.”

He gives you a glance as if he’s weighing the outcomes. In a quick motion, he grabs you, trying to pull you over his shoulder. You scream and hit him, causing enough commotion for the door to swing open and for Ares to be ripped off of you. Your vision is blocked by someone dressed in black.

“Get the fuck away before I kill you”, you hear the man in front of you say. “I mean it.”

You expected it to be Silas, but it’s his second in command.

“Touch my boss’ wife/husband again and I’m breaking your neck”, he warns and rolls up his sleeve.

“Why don’t you get the fuck away and let me do what I want to do, hm?” Ares responds harshly.

“You’re really asking for it, aren’t you? This is a wedding, don’t be stupid like usual, Ares.”

“I’m stupid? Have you seen my brother?!”

“Leave, Ares. I don’t want to cause your parents any more pain.”

“What’s going on?”

Silas’s voice makes you want to crawl into a hole and never come out again.

“What have you done, Ares?” Silas asks coldly.

“You’re just going to assume that I’ve done something, huh?” Ares growls.

“Why would my man waste time talking with you unless you’ve done something completely idiotic?”

“I heard Y/N scream and found Ares trying to kidnap them”, the second in command says and reaches back a hand to make sure that you’re still there, or to console you.

Silas turns his face towards his brother, his black eyes burning with anger. Before Ares has time to defend himself or throw an insult, Silas has hit him. Hard. You watch how blood seeps from his nose.

“Don’t think that you can ever try to take them from me”, he warns. “They’re mine. See the ring on their finger? Belong to me. I have all the legal rights to say that now. Don’t fucking think a thing.”

Silas puts his arm around your shoulders.

“The only one that gets to touch them is me, so put your greasy little hands away before I cut them off and force you to eat them”, Silas warns him coldly. He turns to his second in command. “Let’s go home, I don’t want to sabotage the after party.”

You’re pulled along out to Silas’s car.

“I should have known that this wedding would have drama”, the second in command sighs. “Why did you even invite Ares from the start?”

“Because I wanted him to see Y/N giving themself to me”, Silas smirks. “To annoy him.”

“You’re supposed to be older than him.”

“Oh shut up, let me have some fun.” He turns to you, growing softer. “Are you okay, little thing? Did he hurt you?”

You shake your head. If anything, you hurt him when clawing at him.

“Good”, Silas smiles and caresses your cheek. “Let’s go home.”

In the car, he takes your hand, inspecting the ring with a cocky smile.

“Now you're officially mine”, he whispered, looking at you with intense, dark eyes. “Forever. And there's nothing you can do to separate us.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere oc x reader #yandere fics #yandere stories

[incognit0slut]

hi! what about this: some time after spencer comes home from prison, he finds some toys reader had bought for herself since he'd been in prison for so long. he tells reader that if she was needy enough to do anything without him, she can do it again, without him. he orders her to show him what she was doing when he was gone. you can definitely include edging and/or overstimulation as well as degradation, of course if you're comfortable with that <3 also, if it's not a problem, since it would be a sub/dom dynamic there could be aftercare included, but it depends on what you feel like writing.

anyway, thank you and i hope you're having a great day 🌺

(18+) Dom Spence x fem reader. 1.3k. Sex toy. Squirting.

Spencer forces you to give him a show when he discovers your secret.

-

Spencer wasn't trying to be evil, he really wasn't, but there was a twisted satisfaction witnessing your vulnerability. Maybe it was the sense of power over you, or perhaps you were simply captivating, but whatever the reason, he found himself drawn to the sight of you lying in bed, legs spread apart.

He watched intently as the toy disappeared into your cunt, moving in and out, each thrust met with the tight clenching of your walls. He never imagined he'd witness you finding satisfaction with anything other than him, yet, if he were honest with himself, the sight aroused him more than it angered him.

You had been going at it for a while now—no, he forced you to do it. Though "force" might not be the right choice of word, because as embarrassed as you were by his discovery of the toy you forgot even existed, the pleasure clouded your mind, and you found yourself enjoying giving him a show far too much to stop.

“Is this what you’ve been up to while I’ve been gone?” Spencer taunted, leaning back in the chair positioned at the foot of the bed.

Your response caught in your throat as your climax edged closer. With a sense of urgency, you increased the speed of your hand, plunging the toy in and out of your dripping cunt with increasing desperation, the echoes of your arousal filling the room.

“Answer me,” he urged. “Keep your eyes on me and answer the question.”

With a shiver running down your spine, you forced yourself to meet his intense gaze, feeling exposed and vulnerable under his scrutiny.

“I… I needed…” you stammered, struggling to form coherent words amidst the rising tide of sensation.

“Needed what?” he pressed.

You swallowed hard. “I needed… to feel something,” you admitted. “I needed… release.”

“And you couldn’t wait for me?”

“I… I’m… sorry,” you confessed, each word punctuated by a gasp as the toy drove you closer to the edge. “I couldn’t… without… you…”

The room fell into a heavy silence, broken only by the sound of your ragged breaths and the faint hum of the toy. Then, his voice cut through the air. “Do you need me now?”

You nodded, unable to tear your gaze away from his piercing eyes. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice raw with longing. “I-I need you.”

His lips curved into a knowing smile, the hint of a smirk playing at the corners. “Hmm,” he hummed, his voice low and teasing. “That’s too bad because I’m quite enjoying the view.”

You squirmed under his gaze, feeling exposed and vulnerable yet undeniably aroused by his control.

“Please,” you pleaded, your voice trembling with need. “I can’t… I can’t take it anymore. I-I need you.”

A flicker of something akin to sympathy crossed his features, but it was quickly replaced by a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Oh, I know you do,” he replied. “But where’s the fun in giving you what you want so easily?”

You bit your lip, torn between frustration and arousal. “Please,” you pleaded again, your voice barely a whisper, “Don’t tease me like this.”

His smirk widened, clearly enjoying the power he held over you. “You’ll have to beg a little harder than that,” he whispered. “Show me how much you need me.”

Your heart raced at his words, the intensity of his gaze igniting a fiery need within you. Without hesitation, you spread your legs further apart, the movement allowing him an unobstructed view of the way your cunt clenched around the toy, your arousal evident in the slickness coating it.

A satisfied groan escaped his lips at the sight, his hand instinctively finding its way to his strained arousal beneath his pants. “I’ll tell you what,” he muttered, gripping himself. “Make yourself come and I’ll give you what you want.”

A whine broke put of you. “I…”

“If you were needy enough to satisfy yourself without me, you can do it again now.”

Your heart was beating fast against your chest, yet you found yourself nodding.

“Three times,” he continued. “Give me three orgasms.”

Your breath hitched at his words. “Three?” You squeaked.

“Three,” he affirmed, his voice low and commanding.

You swallowed hard, feeling a surge of anticipation mingled with apprehension. The thought of achieving such intense pleasure under his watchful gaze both thrilled and intimidated you. But the promise of his reward spurred you on, driving you to arch your back and chase after your first orgasm.

It came fast and fierce, crashing over you with an intensity that left you breathless. Your toes curled in ecstasy, and a blush spread across your cheeks as you surrendered to the waves of pleasure, knowing that he was watching your every move.

“You’re doing so well,” he praised, his voice thick with desire. “Give me another.”

Your eyes fluttered open again, and you whimpered, determined not to give yourself a break. The faster you obliged, the quicker he would fuck you. So you pushed yourself even further, ignoring the burning sensation as the toy thrusts in and out of you relentlessly.

And then, as it hit that very deep spot inside you, your legs began to shake, spreading even wider in response to the overwhelming sensation. The pleasure surged through you like a tidal wave, from your head down to your toes, and his name escaped your lips in a breathless whisper.

He grunted as he rubbed himself through his pants. “One more, sweetheart, you can take it, just one more.”

You gasped, still reeling from the intensity of the previous climax. “I… I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” he insisted. “I know you can.”

Despite the lingering waves of pleasure still washing over you, you steeled yourself for one final effort. Gritting your teeth, you resumed the frantic pace, driving the toy deep inside you.

The sensations intensified, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your breath grew ragged, your heart pounding in your chest as you neared the edge once again.

As the pleasure built within you, there was a sudden, unfamiliar intensity to the sensation. It coiled in your stomach, sending a surge of urgency coursing through your veins. You whimpered softly, a mix of desire and apprehension knotting in your stomach.

You knew what was coming, and so did he, because his grip on his cock tightened, a hunger burning in his eyes. “That’s it,” he murmured. “Give it to me, baby. Just let it out.”

Despite your embarrassment, you couldn’t hold back any longer. With a gasp, you finally surrendered, feeling a rush of fluid escaping your body as you reached your high. The force of the liquid pushed the toy out of you, and you gasped, your body arching involuntarily in response to the overwhelming sensation. Your back arched, your head thrown back, and your eyes closed, letting the intense pleasure consume you entirely.

Every nerve ending seemed to tingle with ecstasy as the wave of release washed over you, leaving you trembling and breathless. With a shuddering breath, you collapsed onto the bed, spent and satisfied, your body buzzing with the aftershocks of your climax.

In the haze of post-orgasmic bliss, you felt his presence beside you, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. You steadied your breathing as he pulled you closer, his lips pressing gentle kisses against your sweaty face.

“See?” he murmured, his voice filled with pride. “I knew you could do it.”

With a contented sigh, you nuzzled closer to him, reveling in his warmth. “Will you fuck me now?”

He laughed, the sound rich and full of affection. “Maybe we should wait for a while, let you calm down.”

You pulled back and gave him a look. “Spencer.”

With a playful smirk, he leaned in to pepper soft kisses along your jawline, trailing down to your neck. The warmth of his lips against your skin sent shivers of anticipation through your body.

And then he slipped off his clothes, and when he finally settled between your legs, pushing his throbbing cock into your dripping walls, you cling onto him desperately. Because nothing could compare to the pleasure he brought you, leaving you feeling whole and complete in a way that no toy ever could.

#🌺 anon #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic

[dumbseee]

oh shit.

pro hero!bakugo who has a crush on you.

pro hero!bakugo katsuki x idol!reader.

genre: fluff

__

- the first time bakugo agreed to do an interview was because todoroki and izuku were also there. the top three heroes were asked all sorts of questions before the journalist finally asked thee question. "so~ you guys are so private, we don’t really know much about you. so let’s get to know our top three heroes! first question, who is your celebrity crush?" she asked, a smirk on her lips as she looked at the three heroes in front of her. izuku blushed, fumbling with his answer, todoroki crossed his arms on his chest, saying that he had no time for that kind of stuff, and bakugo scoffed, crossing his legs on the small table in front of them. "celebrity crush? do you have other shitty questions or are we done?" he glared at the interviewer who nearly melted on the spot. izuku elbowed his friend and offered an awkward smile to the poor woman. "but aren’t you a big fan of y/n? i heard you sing her songs under the shower, one time." shoto chimed in, face blank. "what?! no! what are you saying ice hot?! i’ll fucking crush your face, come here!" bakugo jumped from his seat and had to be restrained by izuku and a few security guards, meanwhile shoto sat there, wondering what he did wrong this time.

- the interview went viral, with everyone making fun of the mighty dynamight and his little crush on you. he nearly sent shoto to the moon after seeing all those edits of you and him on social media or your fans calling him the president of the fandom. your fans are even shipping you together! and he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t like it. he actually made a fake twitter and tiktok account where he’d like and favourite every single edit/tweet about you. he’d be smiling and blushing like a high schooler in the dark of his room.

- he has a locked drawer in his room, where he keeps all your albums and merch. he’d literally set on fire whoever manage to open it and discover his little secret.

- he spent hours in front of his phone, the screen showing your dm page on instagram, he wanted to dm you so bad. make the first move and try to get close to you, but bakugo was a coward, as funny as it sounded, bakugo was very intimidated by you. he ended up throwing his phone away, he’d try again tomorrow.

- one day he got called for an incident involving a woman and someone who tried to break into her house. nothing major so bakugo went alone, imagine his shock when he saw that the victim was you and the man was your stalker who’s been following you and harassing you for months. he immediately saw red and grabbed the man, slammed him to the ground and threatened to shove a bomb down his ass if he moved. "are you okay?" when you saw dynamite arrive from your window, you immediately ran outside, since you felt safe with the hero around. you hugged yourself and nodded, looking down at the shaking man, but bakugo didn’t believe you. soon enough, police arrived to arrest the man and everyone left, leaving you alone with bakugo. "he’ll leave you alone now, i’ll make sure of it." he smiled gently, putting a hand on your shoulder you forced a smile but slowly lost it when you saw him getting ready to leave. you quickly grabbed his hand and looked at him with pleading eyes, the sight made his heart jump. "please, will you stay with me?" how could he say no?

- bakugo couldn’t get rid of the pink color decorating his cheeks. it was the first time he met his celebrity crush and bakugo wished it was different. he wished he came earlier so you wouldn’t even be aware that your stalker was trying to break into your home. you offered him some food and water but he declined everything, you were getting ready for bed when the incident happened so you were exhausted from practice and rehearsal. you also felt bad for keeping him with you when he was clearly busy or tired from patrolling. "i’m so sorry for bothering you, i know he won’t come back, but i’m still terrified." you played with your hand and felt tears burning your eyes. "don’t. you don’t have to be ashamed for feeling scared, but trust me when i say this, this bastard won’t ever come close to you again." he said it in such a low tone, you thought you imagined it. you nodded and hugged him, which surprised him to no end and also made him as red as a tomato. he didn’t know what to do with his hands so he simply put them around your waist, gently patting your back.

- you fell asleep with the light on, bakugo was sitting on the chair next to your bed and kept his eye on you. he stayed with you till the sun woke up. he noticed every detail of your face, the small freckles decorating your beautiful nose, your long and dark lashes, your full and soft lips and overall your beautiful face. you were, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman bakugo had ever seen in his life. while looking at you, he felt a weird sense of possessiveness and protection wash over him. he wanted to protect you and make sure no one would ever hurt you again.

- when you woke up, you saw a small note on your nightstand, "had to leave for work pretty girl, but don’t worry i’ll see you soon. here’s my number: xxx - xxx - xxx" you didn’t know why but you smiled at his note. of course, you immediately registered his number and sent him a lovely text, thanking him again for yesterday and inviting him for dinner some day. you also signed it "your celebrity crush (;" bakugo almost choke on his coffee when he read your text.

#mha x y/n #mha x you #mha masterlist #mha x reader #mha bakugou #mha #my hero academia #bnha x y/n #bakugou x reader #bakugo katuski #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo mha #bakugou x you #fluff #mha fluff #boku no hero academia #dynamight #mha headcanons

[uglyducklingofthe2000s]

Any Time Of Day - Charles Leclerc

Summary: Charles finds his girlfriend doesn't need it to be night time for her to have a reason to sleep

Almost wrote this for Max. My top tier favourite fics are sleepy!reader fics, bc it is literally me. Might be slightly surprising at the speed I can roll fics out. But generally (so long as I'm not going through a rough patch) I can sleep for 8-9 hours a night then nap anywhere from 2-5 hours a day :D Looool

No part 2 requests please

Charles has adapted pretty well to have a girlfriend who would choose sleep over just about everything else. Aside from him, though he's pretty sure she might places him equal to sleep.

As someone who loves playing piano, Charles will play and practice when he's home.

When he sits down y/n smiles moving up behind him and sliding her arms down around his neck before she kisses the top of his head through his hair.

"Any requests?" Charles asks making her smile, though he can't see it. He can sense it.

"Just something pretty." Y/n smiles then moving back and lying on the sofa, picking up her phone and hitting record on her voice notes since she likes to always record Charles' when he plays. Especially because it's like a lullaby for her and it's not surprise to Charles when he stops playing and turns to find her asleep.

Charles smiles moving and tapping the buttons for her phone to stop recording before he leans over stealing a kiss before pulling a blanket over her. She won't sleep for long, but she'll have a nap then call it a day.

What he doesn't really expect is for y/n to wake up as soon as he's sitting down on the simulator.

"Are you ok?" Charles smiles making her look at him with a slight pout. "Come on then."

Charles has learned to adapt to the distraction of his girlfriend sleeping on top of him while he's on the sim. He's almost certain it can't be as comfortable as sleeping on the sofa or in bed, or even just on top of him anywhere else.

But y/n just likes sleeping and she likes being within as close a proximity as possible with him.

She settles down on top of him again, heavy breath hitting his neck as she rests her head on his shoulder. He isn't the type to praise himself but he really does feel like there good reason to give himself some praise purely because he can manage pretty consistently fast lap times with his sleeping girlfriend on top of him.

He's just grateful she doesn't move and wriggle too much or get disturbed by his movements.

-

Y/n smiles greeting Joris and Andrea with a tight hug each, each of them picking up the young woman who has gained a but somewhat of a sister position with the two of them.

They get up into the private jet, Charles guiding y/n with his hands on her waist up into the cabin.

"You can lie down, cherie." Charles states making her smile brightly at him. But he knows she's not about to do as he suggested.

She nuzzles up to him, giving Joris the perfect opportunity to capture a few photos since Charles does love sharing pictures of his girlfriend just completely passed out on him.

He sort of lets her settle into a deeper sleep before he moves her to lie on the seat that's reclined back into a bed set up.

He keeps himself close to her, resting his hand on her ribs so he's somewhat hugging her with his arm.

"Do you ever wonder if she sleeps too much?" Andrea asks when there's a lull in conversation and Charles looks over to check that y/n is still asleep.

"I don't think so." Charles frowns in thought for a moment. "Her parents said she is this way. Before I met her and when she was a child. She just likes sleep."

"Maybe you should get some sleep." Andrea offers up making Charles look at him with a small smile.

"I think I will." Charles hums since the flight it one of the longer flights on the calendar.

Y/n grunts a little as she feels Charles nudge her so he can lie down with her, but she quickly senses his body down beside her own. Her arms wrap around Charles tightly while he returns the gestures, somehow managing to get to an angle that he places a kiss on her lips.

And despite him sleeping for quite a while by the time he wakes up, quite hot and maybe a little sweaty from the boiling temperature of y/n. She's very hot bodied, usually when she sleeps she seems to just get even hotter.

Some might think her slightly sweaty sleeping isn't very appealing but the way it makes her look ever so slightly disheveled by the sleep and heat.

"Cherie." Charles whispers while managing to reach for a water bottle. "Do you want a drink?"

Y/n lifts her head, raising her brows while her eyes are still closed as she wakes up before she slowly peaks her eyes open.

"Please." Y/n mumbles then sitting up and rubbing at her eyes with a big yawn while Charles sits up too and opens the water bottle.

"Here you go." Charles smiles handing her the bottle and taking the opportunity to tidy her hair for her a little.

She gulps down two thirds of the bottle before smiling when Charles takes the bottle from her.

"Good sleep?" Charles chuckles while noticing actually everyone else in the cabin is now asleep with headphones blocking out the noise.

"Yeah...how long do we have left?" Y/n yawns while Charles hums moving to check.

"Less than an hour." Charles smiles then sitting back and grinning at the young woman while she lies her head in his lap. "Are you going back to sleep?"

"No. I'm just comfy like this." Y/n murmurs with a yawn.

-

It's a surprise to no one in the team when they find y/n has fallen asleep on the counter that Charles keeps his helmets on. It's only testing in Bahrain so garage restrictions for non-team members isn't quite so monitored.

Y/n is holding his spare helmet on her stomach while Andrea keeps an eye on her just to make sure she doesn't move and drop the helmet or move and accidentally fall off the counter entirely.

"Hello? Is that Charles-yes, that's Charles Leclerc's girlfriend asleep in the back of his garage. Testing mustn't be thrilling enough for her to be paying attention." Ted laughs as he stands in front of the garage. "By the looks of things she's doing a very good job at guarding his spare helmet too."

"Testing isn't always the most exciting experience to her credit." Crofty states before they move on while Charles comes back into the garage.

He does out a couple more times before his session is done for the day and he smiles spotting y/n still soundly asleep as he steps on the scales to be weighed.

"Cherie, you need to wake up." Charles states after pulling off his helmet and balaclava. He reaches his hand out to gently rub her thigh making her squeak as she immediately begins to stretch making Charles and Andrea both make a grab to catch the spare helmet.

"Sorry." Y/n mumbles then sitting up and looking at Charles. "How'd it go?"

"The car feels good. Some things to work on. How much did you see?"

"I only feel asleep when we hit half way through the third hour...the engines are like white noise." Y/n mumbles earning a laugh from her boyfriend before he helps her get down. "I'm glad the car feels good, a better start than last year."

"Definitely. Come on, you need food and drink. I need to debrief."

Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos @llando4norris @partyinpitlane @lpab @xoscar03

#f1 #fanfic #formula 1 #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc imagine #charles f1 #leclerc #charles leclerc fluff #forza ferrari #ferrari #scuderia ferrari #formula one #ferrari f1 #f1 2024 #cl16 #cl16 fluff #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #cl16 x you #cl16 one shot #cl16 fic #cl16 fanfic #cl16 x y/n #f1 x reader

[itaipava]

— f1 boys apologizing after a fight.

˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS

you’re lying back-to-back in bed, neither able to sleep. at some point in the night, he gives in and you feel a hand on your arm, lips pressed against your shoulder, “will you let me hold you? i promise we will talk about it tomorrow.” as you eventually nod in agreement, you can feel him smile against your skin. he wraps his arms around you, whispering a faint ‘i’m sorry’ before you both finally drift off to sleep with much lighter hearts.

˒ ⌕ DANIEL RICCIARDO

you come home to find him seated on the couch in front of the tv, surrounded by a cozy blanket and a bunch of pillows. he tries to act cool about it, “oh hey, i was just about to watch a movie. you can join if you want.” you almost can’t fight the smile forming on your face as you notice your favorite snacks as well as two cups of hot cocoa on the table. you try to act unfazed and walk past him when he grabs your wrist, “oh come on, it’s your favorite movie and i made the hot cocoa for you myself,” he says then his expression softens, “i’m sorry. can we make up, please? it sucks fighting with you.”

˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ

he apologizes through touch; you guys may not be on speaking terms but at the end of the day, he relents once the cold anger fades. you’re standing by the corner in the kitchen at night, lost in your own thoughts until you feel a pair of arms around you from behind; your body instinctively tenses but it relaxes once you recognize who it is. he quietly holds you in a back-hug for a long while before whispering a soft ‘i’m so sorry. i love you,’

˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC

he apologizes unreservedly and sincerely with a straight face. his face is pretty passive and aloof but somehow, the emotions and the genuineness is evident in his voice - very subtle voice cracks, hoarse tone. probably sits down and talks about the argument and the cause of it and what you both can do to fix the problem. then he hugs you, light-heartedly saying, “fighting with you is exhausting; i think that just took ten years off my life.” then kisses you, murmuring more apologies against your lips.

˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON

he normally needs time alone to process his emotions and thoughts, which is why he decides to sleep on the couch for the night and he leaves for a while before you wake up in the morning. but he doesn’t leave the house without making you your favorite breakfast, drink, and writing a little note that reads: went for a run, will be back soon. i’m sorry about last night. and he finishes it off with his name, followed by a random, cute doodle.

˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI

arguments with him rarely lasts long; he wants to make up and move on from it as quickly as possible. you’re both lying in bed, facing away from each other, both awake and feeling equally guilty. then you roll over and turn around to apologize at the same time. after a moment of gazing at each other, you break into soft giggles and he chuckles as he pulls you into his chest, mumbling apologies and sweet words.

˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN

he awkwardly does little things for you; when you drop a pen, he picks it up and hands it to you without a word; when he sees that you’ve forgotten to take the towel into the bathroom, he wordlessly leaves a fresh one by the door. when he’s having a snack and he sees you pass by, he offers you some. if you accept it, he expectantly looks at you. “sooo, we good?” when you respond with a nod, he lets out big sigh of relief before hugging you; “i’m really sorry, y/n,”

#f1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo fanfic #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic

[deadsetobsessions]

What Do You Have There?

A knife!

Danny plunked the butter knife in its pedestal of importance. The nice thing about having a billionaire vigilante for a... foster is the amount of money Danny was allowed to drop on his hobbies. For example, his extensive collection of souvenirs.

They're not just any old regular souvenirs. No, no, no. That would be so boring! No, these souvenirs, he obtained from the various muggings, knife fights, and various other situations he's been in ever since he was dropped ungraciously into Gotham.

The butter knife? Damian. Precocious, stabby Damian who he had startled into the stab instinct. A point of pride, really. Danny knew Damian was good at fighting! It was practically, in ghost terms, a super enthusiastic hello! Yes, the butter knife would be kept in the well lit part of the wall. Alfred had told him to stay home today to recuperate. He didn't need it, since the wound would heal in an hour or two, but he'd take staying at home any day.

A couple of hours later, well into the afternoon and right before what Danny knew to be their patrol hours, Danny had a visitor.

"Danny."

"Oh, hey, Damian! What's up?" Danny turned around to see Damian hovering awkwardly near the door.

"I am here to... check upon your wound. It is imperative that it gets proper treatment."

Ancients, Damian was exactly like those alley kids. He just ate a thesaurus instead of the drawling accent the alley kids picked up. Which meant Damian endeared himself to Danny pretty quickly. Like a little ghostling.

"Oh, I'm good. See? No blood is leaking out of the wound." Danny held up spotless bandages.

Danny watched Damian step into his haunt- his room- with a pleased hum. Damian inspected the bandages and stepped back with a sharp nod of approval. His eyes flicked to the wall that Danny was rearranging (again) and did a double take at the butter knife in the middle.

"Is that the butter knife I stabbed you with?"

"Why, yes, it is!" Danny beamed.

"Why on earth would you display that?"

"Because you stabbed me with it?"

"That makes absolutely no sense, you simpleton! When someone stabs you, stab them back!"

"That would be mean!"

Damian spluttered. Danny tugged the kid closer to the wall, cheering inwardly as Damian didn't shove him away. It might be because he was exaggeratedly wincing as he moved his "injured arm" but Danny has learned to take a win where he could find them, especially with ghosts. Not that Damian was a ghost, but he sure acted like one.

"Do you want to see my collection?"

"Your collection?"

"Yeah!" Without giving him time to answer, Danny barreled ahead. "So this is the knife you stabbed me with. Which, by the way, was an awesome show of strength and accuracy."

Damian grimaced. Danny continued blithely, secretly memorizing Damian's reactions to laugh at later.

"And this is the knife those guys stabbed me with that one time Cass found me. And this one is a bullet someone shot at me down by the docks. I think I interrupted some kind of meeting?"

Damian's jaw had a slight tick to it that would have been a baffled frown on anyone else.

"And when was this?"

"Oh, like a week ago."

"What? When did you go to the docks?!"

"At night. I couldn't sleep."

"And you went to the docks?! How did you even get there?!"

"Walked," Danny lied, like a lying liar. He floated, obviously, but none of them knew that. "Anyways, this is a law book! Someone threw it at my head!"

"Hey, guys! What're you doing?"

Danny and Damian turned around.

"Richard? Brown? What are you doing here?"

"Oh, Bruce wanted me to come back for the weekend," Dick said. Danny knew it was code for "something's going down and we need back up." Man, he still couldn't believe they didn't know he knew they were crime fighting vigilantes.

"Same!" Stephanie said. Danny was glad to see that her wounds from "cartwheeling in the manor" were healed.

"I see. Danny was showing me his collection of... objects people have used as weapons against him."

"What?!"

"Yeah!" Danny beamed, completely innocent. "Come on! I'll show you!"

With that, Danny continued to ramble. He just knew that the way Dick's and Stephanie's smiles strained would give him a good laugh for weeks to come. "And this is the glass bottle a drunk tried to shank me with in Crime Alley, and this is a knife the Red Hood himself threw at me."

Dick interrupted, face stiff. "Hood threw a knife at you?!"

"Yeah, but that was because my kids broke into his safe house and I was trying to get them to stop looting the place. And he didn't know I was a kid too, so he aimed a gun at my head. He shot at me too, but I couldn't go back to get the bullet, or else it would have joined my collection." Danny grabbed a box and shook it, metal rattling inside.

Dick smiled sweetly, Stephanie and Damian inching away from it.

"Oh, wow, I see!"

----

In his apartment, Jason shuddered. He grabbed his guns.

"Something's wrong. I just know it," he muttered to himself.

----

Danny smiled innocently as he described the horrific, near death events he got his souvenirs from.

"This is my bullet box! Man, Gotham has a lot of gun fights. I got shot so many times!" Danny complained, shaking the box like a rattling toy.

"Did you know Danny snuck out to go to the bay?" Damian snitched immediately, like a snitch.

"The Bay?! Danny! You know that's where people dump bodies, right?!" Stephanie poked him in the arm.

"Yeah, but like... I wouldn't die. And besides! I missed my friends!"

"You mean the minions you made in Crime Alley?" Steph asked. Danny pouted, eyeing the way Dick's gaze roved over his souvenirs and paling the more he realized how often Danny "got hurt."

Damian bumped a shoulder against Dick's arm. Danny returned to the conversation.

"If anything, I'm their minion." He said, remembering the times the Alley kids sent him on food runs.

"Fear Danny, the overlord of street rats."

Danny snorted. And- "Oh! Yeah, there was like a weird owl looking guy? And then they stabbed me with a finger and I kept it because woah, cool talon looking thing, right? And then they threw a bunch of those tiny knives at me? And then they just kind of vanished? Gotham is so weird."

And now, with all of them pale and stressed out of their minds, Danny swung a devastating blow called guilt trip.

"And that's the batarangs!" Three heads swung over to the line of batarangs. "Those vigilantes kept throwing them at me! One of them even hit me in the arm. Those things are sharp, man."

"Uh. Which ones?" Stephanie asked.

"Hm?" Danny hummed obliviously.

"Do you know which vigilantes?"

"Oh, it was like... the purple one. And the sword one? And like the one with the yellow insignia in the middle. And... all of them, I think? Except for signal. That guy's cool."

Stephanie and Damian had matching veiled looks of guilt. Dick shot them a sharp look. Danny decided to deal the last bit of damage to Dick.

"I'm glad you guys are way less stabby than the general Gotham public though, butter knife incident aside. At least I don't have to worry about you guys getting into danger, right? If you guys got hurt like my family did... I don't know..."

Danny smiled-squinted at them, channeling Cujo at his cutest and saddest: when he doesn't get to eat off of Danny's plate. So, pretty sad and pathetic.

"Uh, yeah." Dick said, guilt splayed all over his face. "Alfred said dinner was almost ready."

"Yes," Damian cleared his throat, looking away. "We shall partake in Pennyworth's hard work."

"Ahaha!" Stephanie laughed, nervously. "Welp, let's go bother Tim!"

Falling into step behind them, Danny grinned.

#danny phantom #batman #dc x dp #dick grayson #jason todd #bruce wayne #tim drake #red hood #nightwing #bamf danny phantom #danny is a little shit #danny fenton #stephanie brown #danny is a menace #danny: wow im so sad my family got hurt but at least i dont have to worry about that with you guys right? #the bats: *sweats* #knife collection #but also just random trinkets #that should have traumatized danny #but he's super desensitized to it #that's why he fit in crime alley so well #trauma dump #but it's danny being proud of being greeted in a friendly manner by so many people #bc ghost hellos is throwing hands so danny thinks he's popular

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Girls Night Out

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: smut!!!

For the past three years, your weekends have mostly been spent following your fiance's races all over the world, and on his free weekends, you usually rest in front of the TV cuddled up to each other enjoying every moment of his free time you get to spend together.

But this Saturday night was yours and it meant only one thing - girls night out. Your best friend was celebrating her birthday, so you decided to go out to dinner and a few drinks with a close circle of friends. Girls only.

And you were really excited about that. It's not that you didn't like spending time with Lando, quite the opposite actually, lately you haven't really been interested in anything other than being in his arms, but every now and then a little change comes in handy.

As for tonight's outfit, since you just got your period, you opted for black wide-leg suit pants and a black corset top that accentuated and hugged your breasts beautifully. You looked hot, not in a vulgar way, but you were going to turn heads for sure.

"Lan, I'm about to head out" You said fixing your hair and entering the living room where your fiance was lying on the couch in front of the TV.

His gaze moved from the screen to you measuring you from head to toe with raised eyebrows.

"What?" You asked.

"That's a nice neckline you got there" He commented clearly displeased with your choice of outfit for a night out where he wouldn't be there.

"Thank you" You smiled rolling your eyes at him. "I like it too"

"You couldn't choose something else to wear? Like a turtleneck or something?" He asked making you laugh.

"And what's wrong with this? Please, do tell me"

"That cleavage of yours is begging for attention, that's what's wrong with it" He says, his expression serious and his eyes stuck on yours.

"Oh wow. I don't know what you would do if tonight I wore a dress like the one I wore for your birthday dinner" You said remembering the short cherry red dress that Lando tore off of you the second you got home from his birthday dinner celebration.

"You most certainly wouldn't leave the house wearing something like that without me let me tell you that" He says confidently making you roll your eyes at his comment once again although you secretly kinda liked that he was ever so jealous. You liked playing with his head a little from time to time.

"Where is your ring?" He asks about the big oval diamond ring he knelt before you with, even though he knows damn well you never take it off your finger.

"On my finger, of course, every day for a year now, where else would it be?"

"Let me see" You sigh moving closer to stand in front of him and hold your left hand out in front of him. He takes the opportunity to pull you by the hand and make you fall on top of him making you squeal as your chest hit his.

"Lando! Are you crazy?"

"I think you know answer to that question" He smirks grabbing your cheek and pressing his lips against yours.

"Yeah, I think I do. You're gonna ruin my makeup" You whine trying to pull away, but he ignores you pulling you in for another more heated kiss forcing his tongue inside your mouth.

"Lando.." You warn him trying to break the kiss. "Are you nervous that I'm going out without you?"

"No, I just don't want others to look at what's mine. Fuck, I don't want them even thinking about looking"

"Well, like you just said, I'm yours and yours only and you've known that for a long time now" You say pressing assuring kiss to his lips.

"Well.." His hand escapes between your thighs gently squeezing one of them. "Maybe I do need a little bit of reminding" His mouth find your neck leaving a trail of wet kisses all over it.

"Even if I wanted to, we can't, because I got my period this morning."

"I know you did. But you could use your pretty little mouth. That would convince me pretty well." His thumb traces over your bottom lip tugging it down.

"Lando..I have to leave soon"

"Baby, you can't leave me like this." He whines determined to get what he wants and you knew you wouldn't leave the house until he got it. "Touch it.. I got so hard just by looking at you." He takes your hand into his placing it over the tent in his pants. "I need you to take care of it" He whispers making you shiver and rub your palm against him.

"You better be quick" You say quietly before you drop off the couch onto the floor between his legs.

"Oh trust me, it'll take seconds" He sighs removing his pants along with his boxers and tossing them to the side. Leaning down he gives you a brief kiss before leaning back against the couch with his hands holding your cheeks.

You start by leaving sloppy slow kisses around his erected length holding your hands on his thighs. Your tongue runs lightly over his balls making him moan in response. You cup them in your hand gently massaging them while your tongue follows the line of the vein on his cock.

"Baby, put it in your mouth, please"

"Impatient, aren't we?" You tease wrapping your hand around him giving him a few strokes up and down. Your thumb crosses over his red swollen tip before attaching your lips to it and sucking on it.

He hisses at the sensation collecting your hair into a ponytail and tilts his head to the side to get a better look at you.

"Fuck baby, yes, yes, just like that -ahh" Praising you, you moan around him sending vibrations through his rock hard cock.

"You don't know what I would do to you right now if you weren't on your period"

"What, baby? Tell me." You ask taking your mouth off him and stroking him in your hand spreading the precum all over his tip.

"I'd fuck you until you begged me to stop" He moans and you squeeze your thighs together trying to get any kind of friction to reduce the ache between your legs.

"You're doing it so good. Sucking me off so good, fuck" You pick up the pace of bobbing your head up and down his cock opening your eyes for a second to look at his chest heavily rising and falling, his head thrown back and lips parted.

You loved the sight of him in front of you - he was so helpless, completely at your mercy, the sounds that he was making, moans of your name escaping from his lips were enough for you to know that he was fully under your control.

You loved the way his hand rested on the back of your head guiding it, pushing his cock deeper into your mouth.

"You love choking on me don't you? Yeah you do. Fuck I love watching the bulge in your throat when I fuck it." His hips bucked up as he started thrusting himself deep until his tip hit the back of your throat making you gag around him and reflexively pull back, teary-eyed, gasping for air.

"You're okay, baby, you're okay c'mon, take it" Gently caressing your cheek he tapped his tip against your lips before forcing himself back into your mouth. You continued working him up and down taking all of him in while your hand found his balls again making him a weak mess of a man.

"Fuck, baby I'm close." You felt him starting to tense under your touch as his hand replaced the work of your mouth. He took his cock in one hand and with the other he took your chin between his fingers.

"You gonna cum in my mouth, love?"

"Ahh, yes, fuck. You gonna swallow it?"

"Mhm, all of it" You nodded innocently sending him over the edge, his loud groaning broke through the room, the rhythm of his hand slowed down putting his cock back into your mouth as he reached his climax spilling his cum into your mouth.

He stayed like that in semi lying position trying to regain his strength back. You wiped your mouth with your fingers before he pulled you to him into a hug leaving a long kiss on your temple.

"Convinced?"

"I'd say so"

#lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris one shot #carlos sainz #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic

[hellfireeddiemunson]

well today is going about as shit as it possibly could so that’s soooooooo fun. can’t wait for it to get worse bc there’s still at least one thing that can go wrong before my shift ends

#i’m going to LOSE MY FUCJIGN M I N D #i wish so badly that i could just close my work and go the fuck home but one of our clients comes in soon so :) good fucking luck to me #i swear to FUCK if her rides get fucked up like the client i just sat here for over an hour with trying to figure shit out then i’m going to #actually have a mental fucking break down bc this client that comes in is such a hypochondriac and starts just screaming if shit goes wrong #and it’s. so loud and genuinely triggering for me and sends me into a spiraling panic attack every single time she has a freak out moment #and i just Cannot Handle dealing with that today like i simply can’t i will literally end up crying i’m so overtired and anxious rn please #i need a break from today so bad so bad so bad #update: good news is the clients ride was here on time with no issues and i’m sosososososo thankful #also i wasn’t meant to close today and i literally opened too so i’ve been here since 6:30am and i’ll be here til 5. it’s 3 rn #my coworker really picked the worst day to ‘get stuck out of town’ i swear they better not be lying bc i’m already so fucking annoyed that #i’m covering for them rn like bitch—

[lovebugism]

eddie fucking you in the back of his van whilst it’s raining😫

hope you like it lovie!! — after a series of ruined date nights, eddie makes up for another failure the only way he knows how (established relationship, smut 18+, 1.4k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Eddie was gonna take you out, come hell or high water — literally.

It was like the universe was conjuring up ways to keep you apart. He tries to plan a date night with you, and suddenly you have to pick up your coworker’s extra shift and the brakes in his van don’t work anymore.

He takes you to a drive-in to see some black-and-white horror movie, and for the first time in weeks, things are actually looking pretty good. With some candy he brought from home, the two of you settle under the covers in the back of his van, lazing against one another as the projector flickers on.

And then it just starts fucking pouring.

It’s like he blinks and the whole thing gets canceled and the entire parking lot is empty.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me,” he grumbles under his breath, not unlike the black storm clouds rolling overhead.

You giggle at his dramatics. The heavenly sound melts with the wild cadence of rain, tapping rhythmically against the rusted tin roof of the van. 

You’re still being a good sport about the whole thing despite the circumstances. You don’t care what you’re doing, really. You’re happy just doing nothing with Eddie. 

“They refunded us for next week. We can just come back Saturday.”

“I wanted to do it this Saturday,” he whines, all boyishly angry. With his arms crossed over his chest, he leans his head back and bares his milky white neck. “This was supposed to be our night together— why does everything have to get so fucked all the time?”

“It’s not like everything’s totally ruined,” you assure him, practically cooing as you smooth out the frown between his brows with your thumb. “At least we’re together. Who cares about the rest of it?”

“I know, but… You were really excited about it. And I was really excited to watch you watch the movie.”

Eddie tries to be serious, but he’s grinning the second he makes you laugh.

“Shut up…”

“I mean it,” he tells you, serious and quiet with it. His cheek squishes against his shoulder when he pouts at you. “I think I might be heartbroken, babe.”

You know what he’s playing at. You lean into it, anyway.

“Yeah?” you hum with narrowed eyes.

He nods.

“Want me to make it better?”

“Please?”

You close the short distance between you to press a kiss to his mouth. It’s the chastest little peck — you’re practically gone the second you’re there. Eddie chases you when you pull away, tasting of nicotine and pink starbursts when he kisses you deeper.

You get lost in him like it’s nothing, sighing when his soft tongue juts gently against your own. He’s sucking softly at your bottom lip one second, and the next, you’re lying on a pile of fuzzy blankets.

His rings and cold knuckles brush your sides when he tugs at the hem of your shirt, a silent plea for its removal. You come to then, pulling back from him with a low click sounding between your kissed mouths.

“Wait…”

“What?” he wonders, lips rosy and swollen. His deep, chocolate eyes dart between both of yours, looking for any sign that something might be wrong.

“Won’t we get in trouble?”

“No— Everyone already left.”

He’s breathless from having been kissed so ardently. He leans down for more anyway. His stomach twists with rejection when you press against his shoulders to stop him.

With a sigh, he concedes and rises off of you again. His shirt is wrinkled and skewed around his neck from your passionate touches. Still on his knees, he reaches for the metal handle of the back door and shouts into the roaring rain — “Hello? Anyone out here?”

“Eddie!” you shout, giggling and jerking backward when rogue droplets sprinkle inside.

The van shakes when he slams the door shut again.

“See?” he lilts with a lopsided grin. “No one.”

You shake your head at him. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

“You love me, though,” he mutters as he settles back over you. The weight of his body is warm against your own. With your hands on his sides, you pull him somehow closer.

“Unfortunately…” you gripe, kissing the breath from his lungs a second later.

When he reaches for the hem of your shirt again, you let him take it off.

—————

The thundering rain against the roof almost drowns out your gentle moans. Eddie’s glad you’re breathing them right into his ear, so he can hear everything he’s doing to you. 

His thrusts are slow and measured. Almost painfully unrushed. He shushes your begging to go faster — “Just let me make you feel good,” he mutters, slurred and low, “Let me hit that spot.” He pierces you with his cock, tilting his hips to hit deep inside you until you make a pretty noise for him, then he creeps back out again.

He never pulls all the way out, though, ‘cause he might die if he left the warm velvet you are around him. He keeps his pelvis pressed intently against your own, the coarse hair at the base of his cock steady on your pussy. The pressure against your clit is merciless.

“Put your legs around me, baby,” he mumbles against your mouth because he knows the different angle will make it better for you. 

He almost smirks when you obey him without thinking, but his mouth parts with an unexpected moan before he can. You pull your knees back and tuck your ankles around his waist, heels pressing gently above his ass. 

Your cunt widens and suckles him further in.

Eddie grumbles a hearty, poorly muffled moan into your neck.

“There you go— just like that,” he praises. “Doing so good for me, pretty. Always so good for me.”

You whine again, high and light, like the praise is equally as pleasurable as his cock.

His metal chain glides between your breasts when he pulls back from you. He tucks his ringed fingers into your waist and sits back on his haunches, balls resting warm and wet against your ass. He keeps rocking into you, unhurried.

“What happened to that mouth you had before, huh?” Eddie wonders, still breathless.

He smirks when you moan in response. He knows you don’t have the words to answer him. He knows he’s fucked you far too stupid.

“Thought I was incorrigible, remember? What happened to that?”

Your mouth parts in a silent whimper, back arching and brows pinching when his cock hits deeper than you think he’s ever been. The pleasure feels borderline electric — makes your spine tingle and your legs go numb.

“Yeah… For someone who loves mouthing off—” Eddie continues to tease despite his breathlessness. You clench around him, and he has to remember to exhale. “—You open up so easily for me. Don’t ya, honey?” 

You wanna say something. You think you almost do. But his thrusts are as merciless as they are slow. He presses impossibly deep within you and keeps hitting that spot until you tremble. The words get caught in your throat, along with a silent moan.

“That’s okay, honey. Just let me fuck you. Let me make you feel good,” Eddie slurs, mumbling like he’s talking to himself. “Go dumb for me like you always do. So perfect at that— god.”

He tilts his head back to howl a groan. Through fluttering lashes and a blurry vision, you see his clenched jaw and taut neck and heaving chest. 

Eddie always talks a big game when he gets you all sweet and pliable underneath him. He loves to be dominant while he tears you apart, but as his own orgasm crawls up his spine, his true colors start to show.

He leans back over you again, caging you beneath his warm weight. He stops hiding his pathetic whines and whimpers and instead buries them into your sweat-slick shoulder. He babbles in your ear, a bunch of garbled nothingness because words are starting to lose meaning.

“Fuck, honey. Oh, fuck— you’re so fucking— shit. You’re so goddamn pretty, baby, you know that? So good for me. So soft, too. Shit. This pussy’s gonna kill me.”

He tucks his face into your neck and tries to kiss you through his whines. His ringed fingers crawl behind your back, holding you like his life depends on it while his measured thrusts grow rapid and sloppy. 

Eddie begs you to cum, or rather demands it because he can feel himself about to explode. “Cum— Cum for me— right fucking now.”

You do. You’ve been hanging by a thread the whole time, really. And like you expected, Eddie’s not too far behind you. Your unabashed moans entwine, mixing with the wild cadence of the rain against the tin roof of the rocking van.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: fictober!

[sugoi-and-spice]

Vox Relationship Headcanons

Time to strike the iron while the hyperfixation is HOT!

(I mean come ON . Look at this fucking evil dork. I love him).

SFW

It goes without saying that Vox is HUGE on appearances. He does not make his relationships public lightly. His brand as one of the V’s after all is perfection, and he’s not going to go out arm and arm with a person unless they know that.

That being said, especially given his on again off again relationship with Valentino, I could absolutely see him as being the type to fall for a hot mess. 

A very different person with his partner in front of and behind the scenes. When the cameras are off, he’s warm, affectionate, and vulnerable. He’ll share his every insecurity with you, strip himself bare to the bone for you to love and comfort truly and honestly. And he’s an excellent listener too, always available to hold and talk through any problem you have. Your problems are his problems — you’ll work through them together.

When in the public eye however, he can be a downright prick — putting everything, and I do mean everything between you two on the backburner to keep up appearances. He will not hesitate to make jokes at your expense if it means his ratings will go up.

Fights with him are explosive. No, he’s not the type to lay a hand on you, but we’d be lying if we didn’t admit that he can scream at you within an inch of your life.

Words of Affirmation and Gift Giving are his primary love languages. Specifically, he needs words of affirmation and he loves to give gifts. And holy shit does he give the most uncomfortably lavish gifts. Diamonds, rolexes, new cars — no price is too high for his darling.

Surprisingly, he prefers home dates. Watching a movie on the couch or having a little game night with a bottle of wine. He does genuinely enjoy the authentic time you spend together and he wishes he could have more of it, so the more he can get of that private, intimate time together, the better.

And while he is a man of the future, so theoretically should like video games, I do think he has a certain soft spot for a good old-fashioned board game.

When it comes to video games though, he does tend to gravitate to phone games. 

Vox is from the 1950’s so I do think he prefers a more nuclear family and relationship dynamic. He wants to bring home the bacon and have his partner ready to fry it up in a pan with a dirty martini ready and waiting for him. That being said, he is a man that always looks to the future as well, so he’s by no means above doing chores of his own. At the end of the day, this desire for more traditional relationship roles really comes from a place of needing to be doted on rather than any views he actually has about gender.

The man’s a sucker for a good massage from his partner. This wired up workaholic has knots that you can’t even imagine, so please, offer him a nice bankrupt at the end of the day. He’ll be sure to return the favor tenfold.

A very lovey-dovey drunk. Oh my GOD, he’s so touchy-feely and weepy and just all the y’s. You want a guaranteed cuddle-wuddle session? Load him up with a couple glasses of scotch — you’ll have those chords coiling around you.

And yes, his alcohol of choice is scotch. Scotch, dirty martinis, or a nice oaky chardonnay.

This man wants to get married. Yes, even if he is in hell, the idea of not having to worry about who his next lay or source of connection will come from, having someone that will stand by his side through thick and thin, a partner? Now that’d be the (after)life.

NSFW

BIG fucking praise kink. This man NEEDS you to stroke more than just his bod and his cock, he needs you to stroke his ego too.

“God you’re so good”, “FUCK, you’re so big”, “Nobody can make me feel this way but you, Vox”.

Don’t worry, it’s not just for his own ego. He loves to give praise as much as he receives it. This man is a TALKER in the sack.

“Fuck, fuck yeah. Just like that, baby. You’re so fucking good, just like thaaaaat.”

He’s also got a little bit of a degradation kink — but in general, it still feeds into stroking his own ego. Loves to tease and taunt his partner once in a while about what a horny little slut they are, how he loves to see them so desperate and pathetic. Asking his partner, “you’d have anyone right now, wouldn’t you?” just for them to assure him that no, nobody but him will do.

On that note, the man can dish out degrading dirty talk, but he can NOT fucking take it.

Very much a switch. Sure, he loves to fuck, but he’ll just as happily let his partner bend him over his own desk and fuck the shit out of him. A good orgasm is a good orgasm, his ego may be big, but not big enough to get in the way of that.

Big fan of bondage, both on his partner and himself. There are few sights better to him than seeing his partner bound and shibari’d in his own cord and wires, holy shit. But he’ll also never say no when his partner breaks out their own pair of fuzzy handcuffs for him.

He absolutely short-circuits when he cums, so watch out. Sometimes, if he cums hard enough, he may just zap you a bit so watch out.

Favorite position is seated cowgirl. He loves the way he can hold his partner close while ramming as deep into them as possible. Not to mention the fact that either one of them can take over control at any moment. He can thrust up, they can grind down — it’s just the best of all worlds. Not to mention you can do it from his desk chair.

On that note, he’s a big BIG fan of cockwarming. 

LOTS of precum. This HD motherfucker is just a weepy mess.

I can’t explain why, but Vox just seems like an ass man to me.

He’s not necessarily a cuddler after, but he is something of a “savor the moment” kind of guy. He likes to lay in bed (or chair lol) with his partner for a good while afterwards, smoking a cigarette, reveling in some post-nut clarity conversation, just really taking in the moment. His life is so busy at all other times honestly, always looing and speeding to the future. Sex and post-sex are the times where he really does just like to stop and live in the moment.

#vox #vox x reader #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x reader #vox x you #vox x oc #smut #spice writes

[maroonsoul]

cw : sub!afab!geto, dom!male!reader, dirty talk, degrading, creampie, mentions of pregnancy, kind of free use kink?.

additional note : felt the need to get mean and he was the best victim.

it all started when you simply came back from a long day at work, expecting a few cuddles from your boyfriend Suguru who stayed home that day. until you heard familiar sounds coming from your shared bedroom.

what a sight it was ; dildo glued to your desk that was creaking at every stupid bounce from your boyfriend who was panting, eyes closed and trembling from the effort. you leaned your shoulder on the doorframe and admired the show for a few minutes, staying completely silent as your crotch tightened.

Suguru was completely out of it, hair loose and wearing nothing but an unbuttoned blouse that dramatically fell over one single shoulder. how lucky you were to have this angel of a man completely at your mercy. “what did I say about jerking off while i’m at work ?” you say calmly.

he stops his movement and drops down the dildo, the tip hitting deep inside his cunt making him fight the urge to let out a lewd moan. his hand was glued to his clit, you guessed he made himself cum multiple times by now. “are you deaf ?” you snorted.

he would love to answer you, really. but the fear mixing up with the adrenaline made him completely unable to get anything out but whimpers. he wanted to explain that this was a mistake ! you must understand, he was so bored and pent up from waiting for your arrival ! surely you could forgive him, right ?

you took a few steps closer, Suguru’s cunt was still filled with the dildo. “did it feel good ? how many times did you cum ?” Suguru nodded dumbly at your words, you chuckled at his state. “get up.” and so he did. he couldn’t really dare to disobey any more orders from you, he couldn’t allow it.

you watched his pussy sliding out of the big plastic dick, as his legs almost gave out you were quick to grab him. he looked up at you, cheeks flushed and eyes glistening with lust. after all this mess he still wasn’t satisfied. “oh my sweet baby. look at you.. you’re all sweaty.” your words were as soft as a feather, this couldn’t be good.

“do you want me to help you ?” he nodded again,

“speak.” you said firmly. “cmon, are you a fucking mutt ?” you grabbed his face strongly, squishing his cheeks together as muffled sounds came out of his mouth.

“he-help me.. please. with this..?” those were the only words Suguru managed to form. you smiled widely and helped him get on top of the mattress. you’d be a fool not to use this as an excuse to get even meaner. he let out soft pants as he tried to steady his breathing pattern and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t completely excited about what would come out of this.

you unbuckled your belt and pulled down your pants just enough so he could see the happy trail on your lower abdomen. Suguru’s cheeks flushed at the sight, as if it was the first time you two ever got intimate. you slowly got on top of him, both your arms caging him and your eyes devouring his entire body. you lips found their place on his, that were messily trying to answer to your aggressiveness.

he moaned in your mouth while your hand rested on his belly on which you traced circles on with the tip of your index. suddenly, you grabbed both his legs and bent them enough so his cunt was facing your crotch. it wasn’t too complicated to slide inside his pussy, and the feeling was unreal to you. warm and wet just how you liked it.

Suguru panted loudly at the first thrusts, it was so much different from the earlier dildo. your cock fit perfectly, every vein hitting every sweet spots inside him. it filled him up so good he couldn’t even breathe properly, his mouth opening and closing like a complete idiot. while his legs were close to his ears, “feels better doesn’t it baby ?” you cooed and he couldn’t even hear you.

you watched his toned pecs bounce at every movement, his black hair sprawled on the white mattress and his face completely angelic.

“if you were so horny, you could’ve called me. but instead..” Suguru whimpered at one particular thrust. “you decided to act like a cheap whore.” your hands grabbed his hips so tightly he knew it would leave cute red marks the day after. you fastened your pace, admiring how stupid he looked at the moment.

“is that what you are Suguru ? a cheap whore that likes to bounce ?” you said harshly and gently slapped his cheek a few times to wake him up. “answer me you fucking slut.”

but he couldn’t. in the state he was in, he couldn’t form any coherent sentences. you smiled knowing he was too fucked up to answer and kept on thrusting inside him, you felt his cunt tighten around your cock and understood that he was close. if he wanted to feel good, why not give him that ?

so you did, you let him cum first. but you didn’t stop. even if his eyes rolled back, even if his throat let the most dry sounds ever, even if his hair started to stick on his forehead, it didn’t matter. what mattered is that he’d remember that if he acts like a whore, he’ll get fucked like one.

“wanna have my babies Suguru ?~” you let out a fake smile and came inside his puffy cunt with a long moan. he gasped at the feeling of your cum spilling inside his pussy, feeling like he was your toy ready to get used. which he gladly was, with no question.

#zaire writes #dom reader #jjk smut #sub character #sub jjk #sub geto #sub getou #sub suguru #sub geto suguru #male reader #geto smut #jjk #jujustu kaisen #jujustu kaisen smut

[gyuslcve]

can i request “svt members when their S/O falls asleep on another members lap/shoulder”?☺️

how svt reacts when their s/o falls asleep on another member’s lap/shoulder

genre: head canons, fluff if u squint

rq: requested by anon!

not proofread

notes: this idea is so cliche (in a good way) and never fails to make me go <333 thank u anon for this rq xx i really enjoyed writing this

SVT MEMBERS WHEN YOU FALL ASLEEP ON ANOTHER MEMBER’S LAP/SHOULDER

choi seungcheol

✧ i think he’d be conflicted because he doesn’t wanna wake you up but he wants you to lie on him and only him

✧ ends up trying to move you from someone else’s lap to his without waking you up

✧ is very gentle with you, afraid of disturbing your sleep :(

yoon jeonghan

✧ wakes you up and apologises

✧ “sorry darling.. i’m here now, go back to sleep”

✧ you don’t notice it but he looks at you tenderly and smooths your hair

hong joshua

✧ same as cheol, he’d try to shift your head from someone else’s shoulder to his own

✧ once you’re settled on his shoulder he glances down at you every once in a while, making sure you’re sleeping safe and sound

✧ chuckles to himself at your sleeping state (he finds it t o o adorable)

wen junhui

✧ slightly ???? when he sees the situation

✧ doesn’t really mind tbh

✧ shushes the members bc he knows you’re easily woken up by noises

kwon soonyoung

✧ pouts and hopes no one notices (he’s jealous)

✧ wakes you up gently and shifts next to you so you can lie on him instead

✧ instantly wraps an arm around you in a protective manner once you’re by his side

jeon wonwoo

✧ heart melts when he sees you asleep

✧ doesn’t have time to be jealous, he just walks up to you and wakes you up,

✧ “hey baby.. let’s go home yeah? i know you’re tired”

✧ if you insist on staying he’d bring you to his lap so you at least rest comfortably

lee jihoon

✧ doesn’t notice at first - when he does he gets jealous

✧ he tries not to show it but it’s written all over his face

✧ doesn’t wake you up or anything, makes a mental note to talk to you about it when you get home

✧ not from the intention of possessiveness but he wants you to know he’s uncomfortable with it and assures you he will always, always be by your side whenever you need it

xu minghao

✧ almost jumps out of his seat from impulsiveness and then sits his ass back down because he tells himself “it’s not a big deal”

✧ probably would sit there and debate whether he should wake you up or not for at least five minutes

✧ it puts his mind at ease once the thought that you fell asleep on the other member’s shoulder accidentally crosses his mind

kim mingyu

✧ torn between being jealous and heart swelling with affection

✧ lots of thoughts go through his head (while pouting)

✧ what if she gets mad at me for waking her up? w-what if she doesn’t love me anymore ;-;

✧ please give assurance to this big baby

lee seokmin

✧ another ???? member

✧ doesn’t really do anything, first thing that crosses his mind is when you fell asleep the night before

✧ he’s honestly just worried that he’s staying too late and you’re not getting enough rest :/

✧ wakes you up while brushing your hair and asks if you wanna go home

boo seungkwan

✧ man would jokingly make a threatening face at whoever you’re lying on

✧ then proceeds shush everyone in the room

✧ would take off his hat and place it over your head so that it blocks out the brightness

vernon chwe

✧ bro is too busy vernon-ing to notice

✧ not that he’s not paying attention to you.. he’s just vernon yk

✧ only finds out when the member you’re lying on texts him “yo, come get your girl”

✧ chuckles and slowly manoeuvres you into his arms, excuses himself and you from the room and brings you back home <3

lee chan

✧ furrows his eyebrows

✧ somehow shoos the member away and adjusts you onto his lap instead

✧ forgets about whatever conversation he’s having and spends entire night placing occasional kisses on your forehead and holding your hand

author’s notes: thank you again anon for the rq!! i really enjoyed writing this <3

#gyuslcve.writes #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #wonwoo x reader #jeonghan x reader #jihoon x reader #joshua x reader #junhui x reader #lee chan x reader #minghao x reader #seokmin x reader #seungcheol x reader #vernon x reader #mingyu x reader #soonyoung x reader #seungkwan x reader #seventeen headcanons #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagine #seventeen drabbles #seventeen fanfic #svt x reader #svt imagine

[uglyducklingofthe2000s]

I'll Crawl Home To Her - LN

Summary: Lando has been away with for three race weekends in a row (based in 2024, Spain, Austria and Silverstone) but he finally gets a chance to go home to his girlfriend who managed to catch viral tonsillitis and he feels awful for not having been there to take care of her.

Y/n was meant to go to the Spain GP but that was when the symptoms started, and since y/n rarely gets sick. Like maybe once every 4 years, her body is very melodramatic in reaction and practically leaves her feeling like she's dying.

When she told him it was viral tonsillitis and there was no way to treat it but instead just wait it out till the symptoms cleared up on their own. Which could take anywhere from a few days till a couple weeks.

That then turned into her missing Silverstone too.

Max is coming back with them, purely because they've got things to sort out for Quadrant and he just wanted a visit with his friend.

"Y/n?" Lando calls out as he gets home, sighing as he looks around. She definitely has attempted to eat, but nothing much. "Baby?"

There's movement and shuffling before he moves quickly through the apartment finding her walking out their bedroom.

"Oh baby." Lando pouts since she doesn't just look ill, she looks miserable. He moves forward quickly scooping her up and lifting her to latch her legs around him. "Alright, I'm going to take care of you."

"Where's Maxie?" Y/n whispers, her voice and volume clearly compromised.

"Maxie. You two got pet names now?" Lando laughs then carrying her through to the living room where Max. "My girlfriend wants to see you."

"Hey, y/n. How you feeling?" Max grins while she is left on the counter by Lando. "Not great?"

"No." Y/n murmurs while Lando appears with some water for her knowing that the main they is she needs to be hydrated. "Thank you."

"How much have you had to eat?" Lando asks knowing that she can't talk much but he just wants to know how little she's eaten since the evidence of leftovers is there and she's definitely hollowed out a little from lack of eating and probably general exhaustion from being ill.

"A few bites of toast, I had some yoghurt?" Y/n mumbles seeming to think on it while Lando watches her with focused eyes.

Max has actually never seen this side of Lando, he's really just used to Lando fucking around or if he's not in a good mood then Lando would usually just disappear to be on his own.

Lando proceeds to quiz her about her symptoms and then places his thumb on her chin to pull her mouth open gently.

"Do you have a rash in your mouth?"

"Mate did you just google symptoms of viral tonsillitis to look for or something? Leave the poor girl alone, a doctor confirmed it." Max states earning a small glare. "You know maybe I'll just go and stream."

"Yeah, you go do that." Lando grumbles while y/n smiles lightly knowing that this is just Lando's love coming out in a form of protectiveness. He waits till Max is gone before looking at her again and sighing. "Do you just want to cuddle for a bit?"

He knows the answer already.

"Please."

Lando nods smiling sadly at her and picking her up again, managing to pick up the bottle of water too.

"Ok, baby." Lando sighs lying them down on the bed where she does nuzzle down into him. "Let's have a nap together, yeah?"

"Are you sure Max is ok being left on his own?" Y/n mumbles which only earns her a tsk since Lando has plenty of time to spend with Max later right now he just wants her company anyway.

Y/n doesn't really struggle to fall asleep with Lando there. He's without a doubt her comfort person and brings her more comfort than anything else in the world. They'd facetimed while he was away but that doesn't equate to him being there, and him rubbing her back under the light t-shirt she's wearing lets him know she's definitely running a little hotter than usual. Not as far as a fever but she did say that she was feeling hot and the doctor said it's a side effect of the virus.

"Hey, mate. I was going to go out and grab some stuff to drink and eat. You want anything?" Max asks making Lando look up since he'd been scrolling on his phone to pass the time.

"Can you get some more water? And just some snacks. I think I'm going to be here for a while."

-

Lando does eventually get on stream with Max after a couple days, though only on the criteria that y/n is set up in there with them. Which means she's lying on sofa cushions that Lando has put on the floor and made a little more comfy with other pillows and blankets.

It makes sense that she's just been dozing in and out of a sleepy state. He has managed to get her to eat more so she does have more energy and look a little more like death warmed up. But as usual with her body when she falls ill, she's just exhausted.

"The chat wants to know what you're constantly looking at. I mean they're guessing the right thing." Max states while reading the chat who are asking what Lando is looking at then correctly guessing that it's Lando looking at y/n.

"Y/n is on a makeshift bed set up. Just so we can stream and I can keep an eye on her. She's still not very well guys." Lando explains while Max nods alongside him as they read the chat. "No. She doesn't want to come on the stream, she just wants to be close to me and I want to make sure I can grab anything she needs."

"Isn't he adorable? Aww...yeah you guys think it's cute. Try being the third wheel that gets in the way. Lando has never given me so many dirty looks."

Another pause as they read the chat and Lando smirks in victory since they all say he's the cutest for having that behaviour.

"They're saying I'm the new standard." Lando grins turning to Max with a look from from her.

"People want to know what's wrong with her."

"She's got viral tonsillitis guys. She just has to like deal with it but y/n never get sick so she's just really struggling. Her body doesn't know how to cope with her being unwell." Lando explains then sighing as he looks down at his girlfriend who has shifted hearing him talk about her. "Hey, baby. Are you alright down there?"

Y/n nods still preferring not to use her voice as she sniffles sitting up, still out of frame as she reaches for the tissues then wiping at her nose.

"Do you need some more water?" Lando asks softly then reaching down and shaking her bottle. "Yeah, I'll get you more water. Want more ice."

"Yes please."

"You two are causing a riot." Max questions making her look at him while Lando disappears not so much as acknowledging his friend's words. "How you feeling?"

"I've been better." Y/n murmurs wiping at her nose again which is pretty much raw from her constantly trying to handle her running nose. "This is hell."

"You do look pretty rough."

"Leave her alone. She looks perfect." Lando states reappearing which makes y/n and Max exchange a look since she very obviously does not. His then turns back to her and looks at her for a moment then speaking quickly while Max focuses on the stream. "If I run you a bath, do you think you'd want to get in it?"

"Yeah, I should really clean up."

"I'll join you." Lando smiles kissing her forehead.

"Ok." Y/n whispers then sniffling making Lando frown. "I'm sorry."

"Alright. Ok, mate. we'll be back in a bit." Lando states picking her up and sighing softly as he carries her out the room and Max pulls a face to the stream.

"She's really not well guys. I've never seen Lando like this." Max states not being too loud.

"Ok, baby. What's wrong?" Lando asks while y/n tries to blink tears away.

"I just feel like shit and you're taking care of me but you shouldn't have to be." Y/n hiccups while Lando sighs. "And I can't even kiss you."

Lando smiles a little at her final comment before he pulls her closer.

"Alright, baby. You're just frustrated and overwhelmed." Lando soothes gently rubbing her thigh. "I'm going to run the bath, go out and say by to the stream and you are getting every ounce of my attention."

Y/n sniffles nodding a little as she watches him move to run the bath then moving to inform Max of his new plans. When he reappears she smiles sadly as he moves over gently pulling her top up and off of her.

"Alright, gorgeous." Lando smiles before he tries to hide a frown that momentarily appeared. She's still looking a little too small for his liking since he knows this isn't her healthy weight. "You are so beautiful."

Y/n raises her hands, wiping at her eyes again.

"Alright, baby." Lando smiles once the bath is filled. "Gotta get you completely naked."

Y/n sighs standing up and allowing Lando to look at her for a moment before he pushes her shorts down then guiding her to the bath before he strips off and climbs in with her.

"I'm so going to get you sick too." Y/n mumbles looking guilty but Lando only rolls his eyes.

"If you were going to get me sick, I'd be sick by now." Lando states though he really knows that's not entirely true. He just doesn't want her to push him away if when she's feeling like this. He really wants to just keep her close to himself at all times. Regardless of his own health.

Even if he does have a race not this weekend but the next, getting ill is not an option for going into that race.

"I love you so much baby. So so much." Lando smiles while wrapping his arms around her and hugging her tightly.

"I love you too, it sucked not coming to Silverstone...it's the home race."

"There's more home races in my future. Don't worry." Lando smiles while he head drops back on his shoulder. "You're going to be at the next one. I'm going to make sure of it."

"Working magic?"

"I always do." Lando smirks than laughing when she tsks at him knowing he's referring to something no as innocent as she can handle right now. "How are you feeling?"

"I just want to be...better." Y/n grumbles before she frowns. "I do like having you here. It's nice having you here. I really missed you more than anything I hate missing a race, but really I hate not getting to see you more."

"I hate not having you there too baby. I hate not being able to just tuck you away you in my pocket. But I do like coming home to you too. Makes me feel like I got you wifed up."

Y/n snorts then hiccuping as her emotions get the better of her again and she begins to tear up.

"Alright, baby. It's ok."

With anyone else Lando would almost certainly not tolerate so much tears but he knows y/n is crying to be annoying. She's just feeling like shit and there's no fix to it.Eventually the water cools a little and wanting to prevent a potential fever or just making her generally worse. Lando gets them out the bath.

Max has disappeared from the streaming set up as they walk through the apartment and Lando decides to just tuck y/n into bed after sort of getting her dressed before moving to check that his friend isn't mad that he bailed on him.

"Hey, mate. Sorry." Lando sighs earning a smile from his friend.

"Don't worry about it, I'm just glad I'm not as bad a state as y/n. I was going to go out and grab some food for us? Want to text me some food orders from y/n?"

"Yeah, I'll see if I can force a request out of her. She's says it still hurts just swallowing."

"Christ, is that what made the two of you take so long in there? Poor girl can't catch a break with you." Max jokes then being swatched at by his friend. "Alright. Sorry, that was wrong of me."

-

It took till only a couple days before the next race for y/n to feel sure and recovered enough to go with Lando to the Hungary GP.

"You seem very very happy to have your girlfriend. I think I've heard so many thing about people closely following her progress and updates about her tonsillitis. But she must be better. How bad was it?"

"I mean she wasn't eating, could hardly drink. Fever, cough and sneezing a lot."

"Oh poor thing, is that why I'm hearing about you being the best nurse?" The journalist laughs while Lando grins.

"Yeah, I basically saved her life." Lando jokes then spotting her. "I do want to hurry here because she looks like she wants me to go over there."

Lando is given the ok to leave and he rushes over to his girlfriend catching her in a kiss since they did check with the medic who even swabbed her tonsils for tests to make sure she wasn't contagious anymore. She's all clear and Lando has been abusing his privilege of being able to kiss her without a second thought.

"Everyone cares so much more about knowing that you're ok thank actually asking about me and driving." Lando grins though he does actually know for a fact he'd happily talk about this woman any day of the week for hours upon hours and if asked about her in an interview he'll detail everything he can about her and how much he loves her.

"That's because I'm the coolest and luckiest girlfriend in the paddock." Y/n laughs making him pick her up and almost toss her in the air though she manages to catch herself locking her legs around his waist, laughing as he runs to the McLaren unit. "Where are we going?"

"I'm still force feeding you till you're back up to healthy weight." Lando smirks making her roll her eyes since Lando might have to make sure he's never gaining too much weight but he seems to be on a mission to really get her back to her weight before she got sick. "Don't get sassy because I do these things out of love and care for you."

"So bossy." Y/n jokes just to really play into the idea that she's trying to annoy him. "I love you really, even if you are bossy."

#f1 #formula 1 #fanfic #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x y/n #lando x reader #lando #ln4 x reader #lando norris one shot #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris x you #lando norris fic #ln4 x y/n #ln4 #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 fluff #mclaren f1 #mclaren #mclaren racing #ln4 one shot #ln4 x you #ln4 fanfic #lando norris mclaren #mclaren formula 1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader