Tumgik
#anyways if u do read the fic please go easy on me this is my first fic
zreamy · 4 months
Text
i'll love you forever
Tumblr media
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.
Tumblr media
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. 
Tumblr media
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.” 
Tumblr media
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. 
Tumblr media
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. 
Tumblr media
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.”
Tumblr media
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. 
Tumblr media
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.” 
Tumblr media
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? 
Tumblr media
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.
Tumblr media
“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. 
Tumblr media
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?” 
Tumblr media
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.”
Tumblr media
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
Tumblr media
© zreamy (2023), all rights reserved. do not repost, translate, or plagiarise my work. do let my know your thoughts !
permanent taglist: @asahicore
3K notes · View notes
localkiss · 11 days
Text
Screaming for attention!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
manipulative brothers best friend re4!leon kennedy x fem!reader
cw: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!! Mentions of past grooming by leon, age gap(~8 yrs), manipulation, guilt, dirty talk, p in v, afab reader, noncon creampie, slight anal/talks of anal, codependency, slapping, daddy kink, pet names, depressed thoughts in the beginning, chubby/thicker reader, manhandling, praise kink, degradation kink, talks of pregnancy (just a bit), oral (f receiving), virginity talk, controlling leon, obsessed leon, slight size kink if u squint!
note: hhh... read the warning lol before you comment. I was going to put more of leon being so fucking weird but erm, decided not to. not proof read btw!! but i do want to say i am a victim of SA and i used to heavily think about him and wished that he went further. lol idc what people say, i still struggle thinking like that, but ik it's wrong. so yes that's what this fic is loosely based on -_-
wc: 3.1k! tags: @rigorwhoring, @argreion, @xoxostarlet, @fairry1 bc I love u all :33!
Tumblr media
Maybe it's for the best. No more surprises. This is nothing new. All you can hear is deafening silence, swallowing you up in a warm cocoon, suffocating you like a million years of guilt and thousands of weights on your throat and chest. 
You can't help but wish he had done more. Maybe he would've if he could see your thoughts. Maybe he would've stayed.
But those sleeping pills really did a number on your body. You tried to overdose on everything you could, even your antidepressants. Yeah, it was dumb. But it was all just killing you from the inside anyway. 
All you can do now is just sob violently into your pillows. Claw at the sheets and at your scalp, so pathetically. No wonder he chose you. So fucking easy to manipulate, to knead into someone he can use. No wonder he said he only loved you like a friend after he finally got caught in the act.
Whatever it was that he said, you can't remember exactly. You just tuned him out. White noise oozing into your eardrums like water does when you stand underneath the showerhead. He didn't apologize. Didn't explain. Didn't even try to. All you did was cry and plead for him to stay. 
"Please don't leave me, Leon. Please, I can't live without you! I love you! Please!" You sobbed into the phone because, yeah, he broke up with you over text. It's not like you guys were even in a relationship. The age gap was too big and illegal to even be considered a real relationship. 
You knew he was so much older than you. Liked it. Knew it was wrong, yet went forward with it. He should've stopped it. Should've. But he didn't, though. 
You still love him deep down in your heart. He was your first love. First 'boyfriend'. First person to grope your body. You asked for a kiss, and he pressed his chapped lips against your forehead. He asked you for ass pictures, and you gladly sent them. Giggling happily whenever he complimented you and your body.
He's still your ideal type. A cuddly, tall, muscular brunette. 
You wish you could stop yourself from comparing every guy to him or hoping they won't end up like him. Using you and throwing you away as soon as they got what they wanted. 
But, now that you're legal, he reached out to you. Said some nonsense to try and get back into your heart. You didn't even care what he said. Just wanted to feel alive, to feel loved, and to be loved again. Even if it meant being loved by your abuser, you would let him drag you through hell and back if it meant he would love you like he did in the past. If it meant you could feel happy, free, and weightless again, you would march into hell with him.  
As messed up as you are, you would do anything to make him stay. So that you can feel full again. Happy again.
"Wish you would've taken all of my firsts," you pouted as he pulled away from your lips. Swollen and red, so pretty.  
Leon grinned and raised an eyebrow at your statement. "Really, baby girl? Damn," he bites on his lower lip, and his thumb brushes across the apples of your cheeks. 
Taking in the way you look different but still the same as you were years ago, just a bit fuller in your hips, thighs, and stomach, he remembers when he gripped your thigh with both of his hands. Couldn't even manage to grab ahold of all of the fat. A few inches away from completely grabbing your thigh with both hands. 
Now, he probably couldn't even make it so that there were a few inches between his hands; it would be a bit of a distance. That's how much you've grown width-wise. Length wise, you haven't really grown much. 
"Yeah, daddy," you preen under his attention, shifting your weight from your heels to your toes, and back down flat on the floor. "I mean it." 
He lets out a soft chuckle, and his calloused hands softly grab onto your shoulders, rubbing small circles into the fabric of your shirt. "Wish I could've taken all of your first too, baby. I know I would've made it all special for you. For my special girl." Leon coos, his head dipping down to lick into your mouth.
Hot spit trickles down the back of your throat and onto your chin. Making you squeeze your doughy thighs together, moaning as his hands squeeze down to your ass. Pressing you up against his built body. His hard-on throbbing against the confines of his skinny jeans, onto your soft, pudgy tummy.
He groans as you tug at the hair on the back of his head. Pulling back and squishing your cheeks together, and then tapping your face as you try to press your lips on his. His blue eyes darken as you moan when his hand makes contact with your face. 
"Fuck," he grips onto your chin, forcing your mouth open to let a wad of spit hit the edge of your tongue, letting it slide down into your tummy. "Daddy knew you'd like that. I've got a slutty little princess, huh?" 
It's a rhetorical question, but you answer with a few quick nods.
"Yeah, daddy, I'm your slutty little princess." Always so quick to repeat what he said. What he drilled into your brain years ago obviously holds up. You still want to make him happy, even if he ruined you for anyone else. Ruined you for life.
The corners of his lips quirk upwards, his hands giving your ass a quick squeeze before he pushes you down into the bed. He climbs on top of you like a hungry animal, licking his lips at the sight of his prey.
A whine escapes from your throat at the sight. He's gotten even more attractive and bigger, and it's making your brain all mushy. Shooting directly down to your core, feeling it gush out slick onto the gussets of your panties. 
You lick your lips and wrap your legs around his hips. "Please, Leon." 
He lets out a low growl, his veiny forearms coming up by the sides of your head. Firmly planting them on the mattress as he rocks his hips into yours. His bangs fall into your face as he teasingly grazes his lips against yours. Panting hotly against your lips. 
"Relax, baby," is all he says before he moves his mouth, making a wet trail from the corner of your lips down to your jawline. 
"Let me love you." Leon murmurs into your skin as he sucks a hickey underneath your ear, making you gasp and squirm beneath him. 
You become pliable, easy to bend, and easy to please. Brain too foggy to clearly think straight. Leon's marking up your neck like you'll try to run away from him. It's like you're his property now. God, you've always been his, ever since that fateful day, right?
Just a few words, and he can do whatever he wants with your body. Maybe one day you'll let him take your first time with your other hole. Who knows. 
"So pretty, fuck," his tongue dips between the valley of your breasts, hands grasping at your shirt to push it up, exposing you to his hungry eyes. His knee slots between your thighs, making you squeak and squeeze his leg involuntarily. Pressing your tits together to swipe his tongue across your perky nipples. 
Bathing your tits in his spit, he suckles on them like a madman. Enjoying the way you mewl and gasp, using his teeth to draw out more noises from you. Obsessed with every single part of you, even the not-so-pretty parts. He has you mapped out in his mind, his sweet, supple princess. 
"Has anyone ever eaten you out?" Kissing your areolas, soothing the small bite marks he left. He looks up at you through his eyelashes, brows furrowed in concentration. He's doting on you like it's the last time he'll ever see you again. 
"No," you say, pressing your lips together in a flat line. Feeling your stomach tighten up with butterflies and hints of nausea. 
Leon likes that. So much so that he smiles into your stomach, softly gnawing on the pudge around your belly button, earning some soft squeals and pats to try and push him away. He wants to make you crumble under him, submit to him, and never leave. Never want another man. Always comparing someone to him, wishing they did it like him. He wants to plague your mind and control you from the inside out. 
He wants to tie you up in his bedroom and never let you leave. Live your own life? No. Leon wants to drill it into your brain and body that he owns you, no thoughts about anything else but him and his body. 
He pulls down your shorts and panties in one go, watching the string of your arousal stick to the gussets of your panties. His large hands pry open your legs, pushing them up to your chest and holding them down with his weight. 
"Remember this," he spits onto your pussy, watching it swim down to your holes. Squeezing your legs when you squirm a little too much for his taste, deciding to spit once more to make sure you'll have his DNA in you for the next couple of days. 
Pressing chaste kisses on your clit because he knows it'll make your mind go all fuzzy and only think of Leon, Leon, Leon. And how good he's making you feel. Nobody else but him.
He dips his tongue between your folds and begins to languidly make out with it. Thrusting his tongue and swirling it upwards as his upper lip continues to make contact with your clit. Drawing out all sorts of pathetically cute noises from you. 
Wishing he was recording this so he could show it to his friends and brag about how he has molded you to be his perfect girl. You're not a woman until he fucks a baby into you. 
"You like that?" He suckles on your clit and gently bites down on it. Watching the way your face crinkles up and how you squeeze your eyes shut. Everything you do amuses him. 
"Daddy, mmh... god, yes!" You grasp the sheets as you feel a warm, fuzzy feeling in your lower abdomen. Toes curling as Leon fucks his tongue into your drippy hole. 
He shakes his head, pressing his nose into your sensitive bundle of nerves, trying to get you to cum quickly. 
Your hands desperately try to reach for Leon for comfort as you stumble into an orgasm. "Daddy... Mmphh—fuck!" 
Legs kicking out and vibrating as he coaxes you through your orgasm. Slowly swiping his tongue through your folds to slurp up all of your cum, he presses soft kisses all around your pussy. "Such a good girl," he sighs. 
Leon spreads your legs, kissing his way up to your face. He licks his way into your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue and gulp down some of his saliva. "So easy." He puts his hand on your neck, lightly applying pressure as he goes back in for more kisses. Make sure you never leave this cloudy state of mind, so he can do whatever he pleases with you. 
"Maybe I can even eat you out here," he says, letting his hand wander down to your asshole and lightly tracing the rim of it. Feeling you tense up brings a sly smile to his face. "No? Okay. Maybe next time." He chuckles and pulls back to unbuckle his jeans. 
Slowly undoing his belt and putting it next to you on the bed. Unzipping his fly as he makes direct eye contact with you the entire time. He makes you gulp nervously as he finally pushes his jeans down his muscular thighs.
Your eyes immediately jump to his hard-on. How does he even keep that thing in there? It's begging to be freed, and quite frankly, you want to run away out of nerves, not believing his cock can even fit inside of you! What the fuck did Leon even eat for it to even have grown that big and thick?
Leon sees the cogwheels turning in your head as he steps out of his pants. With each step he takes, it bounces against the slightly stained, striped fabric. "Baby, don't be so nervous. It'll be alright." His voice is soothing and convincing, almost hypnotic in the way it makes your body buzz and your mind go blank. 
It is a bit terrifying to think about the effect he honestly has on you, your mind, body, and soul. 
"Are you on the pill?" He asks, although he already knows the answer. 
"No, I'm not." You mumble shyly. Embarrassed to not be on some sort of birth control.
Leon reaches down for his wallet and pulls out a condom. "Good thing I always come prepared, huh?" Chuckles as he pulls down his briefs, stepping out of them as he tears open the condom packaging. He slipped it on his drippy and flushed tip, sliding all the way down to the base. 
Slowly kneeling on the bed to lead his dick to your hole. Sliding through your folds to gather more fluids to make the first push easier on you. 
"Ready?" He grunts as he teases you by tapping himself on your swollen clit. 
"Uhuh, 'm ready," you whine as he slowly eases himself into your pussy. 
Moaning as you helplessly flutter and tighten around his shaft. Watching your face carefully as you scrunch and tense up. Stopping halfway and grabbing ahold of your hand, his other one grips the fat of your hip so tight it'll leave a bruise the next day. 
"Almost there, baby girl, doing so well for me," he presses a soft kiss to your forehead as he drives more of himself deep inside of you.
You look down at your stomach and tighten around him as you notice the bulge from his cock being so big and deep inside of you. His tip is brushing against the opening of your womb.
"Nnh, Leon, too big," you gasp as he rolls his hips against yours. Legs squeezing against his waist as he slowly starts to thrust shallowly.
"Baby, relax. Can barely pull out of you," Leon rasps in your ear, sending chills down your spine as you try to force yourself to relax around him. 
"Mnmph, sorry, Daddy. Please—" you pout, squeezing his hand tightly. Trying to signal for him to start pounding your needy cunt already.
He nibbles on your earlobe, slowly shifting his hips to thrust in and out of you properly. Soft plap, plap, plap, of his body hitting yours, making sure that he hits your g-spot. 
You swallow a whine as he lets go of your hip to lazily rub his thumb on your swollen little button. Hearing the way your breath hitches and seeing the slight curve in your spine makes all his administrations worth it. Slowly speeding up his movements as he squeezes your hand, groaning low in his throat when you clench around him tightly like a vice. 
"Tight cunt all f'me," he thrusts harder and harder, making it difficult to keep quiet. Soft punched-out cries leave your lips alongside Daddy, Daddy, Daddy's. "Fuck, daddy's gonna make you cum so hard around his cock, might even make you scream." 
Leon slowly pushes your legs up, putting you into a mating press as he drives himself deeper into you. Fucking into your womb, which craves his thick cum. Ecstatic with the idea of 'accidentally' slipping the condom off and cumming deep in your womb. Get you pregnant and finally be his woman. 
"God, wanna get you pregnant so bad, baby," he pants, bangs falling into your face with each harsh thrust. "Would take care of you and the baby. Mmhh shit—would suck the milk outta your fat leaky tits." 
Drools into your mouth as he kisses you with fervor, teeth clashing as his dick continues to fill up your sloppy pussy. 
"Leon, please, 'm so close," you hiccup as he vigorously rubs your clit in tight circles. Your legs brush up against his head as you feel that familiar warm coil in your stomach. 
"Cum for me princess." Leon's eyes darken; pupil's swallowing up his iris as he watches you unfold before him. Because of him. 
Your body tenses up and convulses with each swipe of his thumb on your sensitive nerves. Letting out a silent scream, your eyes close tightly as you try to hold onto Leon as best as you can, feeling his hot breath on your kissed, swollen lips. His fat cock is hitting all the right spots, almost painfully good as he fucks you deeply. Constantly pressing up against your womb, making your toes curl. 
Slowly rutting through your orgasm, he feels his own start to creep up on him. "Fuck, hold on, baby. Gonna pull out for a sec," he pants, pulls out of your heat, and discreetly pulls off the condom, letting it fall on his jeans. 
He quickly puts it back in before you can notice, giving you a spine-chilling smile. Giving you a few pecks on your lips and on your forehead as he uses you like a fleshlight now. 
Letting out soft whimpers and moans, he puts his head on your shoulder. The sounds of sex are his favorite sounds. Your crying is his favorite sound in the entire world. Nothing can top you crying out for him while moaning like a total slut. 
"So fucking hot, Jesus Christ," he groans, hips rabbiting into your pussy. Your insides are so warm and so wet, he feels like it's the first time he's going raw ever. Orgasm on the fence with each thrust. That and you're making all these noises, it's hard for him to concentrate on not cumming so fast. 
"G'nna cum, babe, holy fuck—" He lifts his head off of your shoulder and kisses you feverishly, spitting deep into your throat. Putting his forehead on yours, his nose touches yours as he grunts, pumping his cum into your pussy. Sticky white ropes straight into your womb. 
Panting and whimpering as his cock slowly ruts into your messy cunt. "Fuck... So good," he chuckles lightheartedly. 
Your pussy quivers around his shaft as it softens up. It feels so hot and sticky, and your mind is too fuzzy to even process that he came inside. A dumbfounded smile plastered on your flushed pink face makes his heart swell up. 
"Such a good girl. My good girl, right?" Leon nuzzles his nose against yours. Driving the fact that you'll always be his. Even if you move across the country, he'll always follow. Always in your shadow. 
"Uhuh," you respond shyly, giggling at the affection he's giving you. His eyes soften up, and you take in his face. The light stubble, small acne scars, and the way his hair is fading from dirty blonde to brown. "always, daddy." 
295 notes · View notes
elizabethwritesmen · 6 months
Text
i don’t want you like a best friend
Tumblr media
┏ •◦இ•◦ ┓
Pairing: College!Steve Harrington x Reader ALSO Ghostface!Steve x Witch!Reader (costumes)
Summary: You’re in Indiana for college. You just happen to be roommates with Steve Harrington’s best friend, Robin. This is a list of the times you bumped into him, starting with July move in day and ending with a friend’s Halloween party.
Warnings/Notes (PLEASE READ) : SMUT 18+, pining, friends to lovers, Robin being intrusive, Robin’s parents also being intrusive, angst, Halloween if ur into that, ghostface!Steve x Witch!reader (costumes obv), also if ur name is Grace this isn’t the fic for you just trust me on this, this is semi-modern I don’t mention time periods at all but I also made no attempt at historical accuracy so do with that what u will. it’s all make believe it doesn’t rlly matter imo. also this is a college au so I made up college friends for them! ALSO i have plans for another halloween fic, a super spooky super sexy one, but it will go up late prob sometime in late. november because i’ve put all my energy into this one and staying alive lol. enjoy! <3
┗ •◦இ•◦ ┛
•Move In Day
I stared blankly at the boxes in front of me. The U-Haul I’d rented was jam packed with furniture and all of my belongings, leaving barely enough room to breathe.
For some reason, I thought it would be easy. I thought I could girl-boss it, get it done, all in a few hours’ work. Clearly I was temporarily insane when I came to that conclusion. Oh, well. Now I didn’t have a choice.
I sucked in a deep breath before resigning myself to my fate and starting.
I carried in the lightest stuff first, wanting to get it out of the way. I figured once I got through all the heavy stuff, I wouldn’t have any energy left for it, so might as well do it first. I got about four boxes upstairs, and I was bringing up a fifth and sixth, when I noticed the door already opened. I was sure I had shut it.
I walked in to see a girl and a guy, both around my age. She was dancing around, placing boxes of her own on the other side of the room. I cleared my throat gently, placing my boxes on the rest of my things.
She snapped out of her trance and her eyes landed on me. As did those of the guy she was with.
“Oh, hi!” She smiled brightly, “You just be my roommate!”
“Must be,” I sent her a polite smile in return, but mine was a lot more shy and reserved, “I’m Y/N.”
“I’m Robin, and this is my best friend Steve,” she introduced, “He’s helping me get all my things up here.”
“Oh, nice to meet you both. Let me know if I can help with anything!” I offered.
“Oh no, that’s fine, I’m sure you have your hands full! Are your parents here helping you?”
“No, just me. I’m new here, so… I don’t really have anyone,” I shrugged, preparing to head back downstairs when she stopped me.
“Hey, wait!”
I turned around, staring at her expectantly, eager to get back to carrying my boxes upstairs. I didn’t want to be rude, but.. there were so many.
“My parents will be here soon to help me, so why don’t you steal Steve?”
“Oh,” I stuttered, looking to Steve, “I couldn’t ask you to help me. Really, it’s fine, I can get it.”
“It’s no trouble,” he shrugged, “I’d like to. I’d hate for you to have to carry everything up by yourself. Besides, any roommate of Robin’s is a friend of mine.”
I breathed out a little chuckle and nodded, “If you insist.”
He followed me to the elevator, pressing the button for me and walking on after me. I expected awkward silence but there was none, he didn’t allow a single lull between his questions. He wanted to know everything, where I was from, what made me choose the school, what kinds of things I was into.
“Do you go here, too?” I asked him as we approached the U-Haul.
“Yes, I moved in yesterday. Robin helped me get everything to my dorm, but I’m on the first floor, so it was super easy. I figured I should help her anyway, though, even though she doesn’t need it.”
“She might not need it, but extra help is always appreciated. Or any help.”
“Is that your way of thanking me for helping you?”
“Well, it was either that or bake you a cake and there isn’t an oven in the dorm.”
“Raincheck on the cake, then,” he chuckled.
We talked the entire way back up, and I was shocked at how easy it came. I didn’t expect to click so well with him, and I silently prayed it’d be the same with Robin.
“There you two are,” she smiled as we walked back in, “Did he talk your ear off?”
“No,” I shrugged, “He talked the normal amount.”
“Yeah, the normal amount for a 6 year old on a road trip.”
Their dynamic was nice. They picked on each other, sure, but it was all friendly.
On the second trip down, Steve told me about his life. His high school experience, his hobbies, his hair. His friendship with Robin. I couldn’t tell whether or not there was something more than friendship there. I couldn’t help the small part of me that hoped not, Steve was really handsome and the nicest person I’d met in a while. But I definitely didn’t want to overstep any boundaries, and I was much too shy to ask. Besides, a guy like him probably wouldn’t want anything to do with me anyway.
By the time we got back up to the dorm, Robin’s parents were there.
“Oh hello,” her mom smiled, “You must be the roommate! Y/N, right?”
“Yes ma’am,” I responded.
“Well I’m Robin’s mom, Melissa, and this is her Dad, Richard. It’s so nice to meet you! Oh, you’re just so pretty!”
“Thank you,” I grinned, a little overwhelmed with how nice the woman was being. She was pretty, much like Robin, and she’d aged well. But she also had a warmth about her that was comforting, welcoming even.
An hour later, they had all of Robin’s things up and unpacked. They didn’t even ask if I wanted help finishing up, they just got to work, carrying the last of my things up with Steve and beginning to open boxes.
“You guys really don’t have to do all this,” I mumbled, sheepishly. I always felt awful accepting help, overwhelmed with gratefulness to the point of guilt.
“Oh, hush!” her mom laughed, “We want to!”
It only took another hour to have everything in its place, and we all stared proudly at our handiwork.
“Thank you all so much for your help,” I smiled at the group.
“Of course!” Mr. Buckley patted me on the back, his grin charming, “And if you ever need anything else, you call us! Now, how about we all go get something to eat? I think we’ve worked up enough of an appetite!”
I at first assumed I wasn’t invited because, well, it’s Robin’s family and Steve has apparently been her best friend for years so he’s basically family too. I was new in all this and definitely didn’t expect to be having dinner with all of them. But when they all walked towards the door and I hung back, everyone turned to me, matching confusion on their faces.
“Come on,” Robin chuckled, “You think we’re gonna let you starve after all the work we just did?”
And just like that, we all piled into Mrs. Buckley’s car. I was squished in the middle between Robin and Steve. I wanted to give her the middle because she was so small, but she told me she would feel carsick from Steve’s cologne and she’d rather have the window seat.
“What’re you kids in the mood for?” Mrs Buckley asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” Steve responded, and Robin and I agreed.
“I think there’s a barbecue joint a few miles down the road, let’s stop there,” Mr Buckley decided, turning to the back seat, “I know Robin and Steve like that, but is it okay with you, Y/N?”
“Of course,” I nodded, still shocked to be included in the dynamic.
Mrs Buckley almost missed the driveway to the restaurant and she slammed on her brakes and turned in at the last second, throwing me gracelessly into Steve, my seatbelt the only thing keeping me off his lap. He caught me swiftly as he himself hit the door, making sure I didn’t hurt myself in the commotion.
I risked a glance at him to see his eyes peering into mine, concerned and a bit discombobulated from the startle of it all.
“You okay?” he asked, and I nodded, staring down at his arm that was still around me. He cleared his throat, setting me upright in my seat as we pulled into a parking spot.
I turned to Robin, taking note of the huge smirk on her face. She was looking past me, eyes on Steve. Must’ve been some kind of inside joke I wasn’t part of yet.
We all walked inside together, and the hostess sat us at a booth, pulling an extra chair up to the end of it. I went to sit in it when Robin stopped me.
“Remember what I said about Steve’s cologne? And I get claustrophobic. You’d better sit by him, I’ll take the extra chair.”
I nodded slightly, sliding into the booth and letting Steve slide in beside me. I didn’t understand what the big deal was about his cologne, it wasn’t that strong. It was subtle but sweet, cinnamon overwhelming my senses and filling me with a warmth and comfort I craved. The kind of cologne that, when someone passes you wearing it, you stop and take a deep breath in, soak it up for all it’s worth.
Robin’s mom and dad, and Robin herself, were all giving Steve that strange smirk now, and I suddenly felt left out. I guess they were all in on the joke. Unlucky me.
We made small talk while we looked over the menus, picking what we wanted to eat.
“What’re you gonna get?” Steve asked, and I had to look up to realize his question was just for me. Robin and her parents were talking amongst themselves, completely ignoring us.
“I don’t know, probably just chicken fingers. I’m picky when I try new places.”
“Lame,” he tapped me in the ribs and joked, and I squirmed against his touch.
“It’s not lame! It’s a classic!”
“Let me guess, macaroni on the side?” he raised a brow, and I stared sheepishly at my lap, causing him to chuckle, “You’re pretty predictable, Grace.”
“That’s not my name,” I furrowed my brows at him.
“It’s a nickname. You know, Grace. ‘Cause you fell on me in the car. It’s irony.”
“Giving me nicknames already? My, how our friendship is growing,” I rolled my eyes, “If only it wasn’t such a rude one.”
“You can give me a rude one, too,” he offered, and I thought it over for a moment.
“Okay,” I nodded, “Box Boy.”
“Box Boy?”
“Yeah, cause you brought in all my boxes.”
“That’s the best you got?”
“It probably won’t stick, but I like it for now.”
“What’re you two whispering about?” Robin cut into our conversation, wiggling her eyebrows at us.
“It’s a secret, that’s why we’re whispering,” Steve deadpanned, and she snorted.
“Well, you two keep your secrets, and we’ll keep ours.”
“Fine by me, I have a feeling your secrets are pretty dark.”
I stifled a laugh, taking a long sip of my soda.
The rest of the dinner was full of happy chatting and getting to know each other. It turns out I got along really well with all of them, and I integrated well into the little group.
“You know, Y/N, I’m really happy you agreed to come eat with us,” Mrs Buckley told me as her husband handled the check.
“I’m just thankful you invited me! And paid for my food. Really, you didn’t have to!”
“Now stop with the bashfulness, you’re basically family now!”
With that, everyone stood. Steve helped me out of the booth and held the door open for me on the way out. It was sweet, in an old time kind of way. I fought off butterflies, and a crush that I felt coming a mile away.
Robin’s family dropped us off, and we stood outside talking for a few minutes.
“I’m gonna go inside and crash, but you two kids say your goodbyes,” she waved her hands at us and walked away, leaving us in silence.
“So…” I started.
“So…” he repeated.
“It was nice to meet you,” I offered.
“You, too.”
“Maybe I’ll see you again.”
“Hopefully.”
“Soon.”
“Yeah.”
I paused, not knowing what else to say. He was making no move to ask for my number, of course he probably wasn’t even interested like that anyway.
“Goodnight,” I smiled.
“Goodnight,” he repeated.
He stood for a moment and I stayed there, waiting for him to leave.
“I’m not going anywhere until I see you get inside safe.”
I giggled, “Yes sir.” And with that, I walked in.
The elevator ride to the fifth floor was long, but finally I was approaching my door, and I walked through it sleepily. I collapsed onto my bed, trying to ignore Robin’s staring.
“So…” she sighed, “You and Steve, huh?”
“Me and Steve what?”
“You guys have got it going on!”
“Have what going on?”
“Oh my God, Y/N, seriously, the sparks could’ve lit a cigarette. Did you give him your number?”
“He didn’t ask,” I shrugged, “Besides. I thought you guys were a thing.”
“I’m into chicks,” she rolled her eyes, “And even if I wasn’t, I still don’t know why you’d think that. I forced you to sit beside him the entire day. You think his cologne really bothers me that much? NO. I wanted you guys to… you know…. hit it off!!”
“Well, I think he’s a little out of my league,” I shrugged, sinking further into my sheets sadly.
“He absolutely is not. And I promise he’s into you. He’s just not the best with girls is all. He’ll have your number soon enough.”
“You’re not planning on giving it to him, right?”
“What? No! I’m gonna make the little shit ask you himself!”
“If he ever does.”
“He will.”
•First Day of Class
I walked into the lecture hall, brows furrowed, trying to make sure I was where I was supposed to be. Yes, room 208, I concluded.
It was a large room, but it wasn’t completely full. There were only about 20-30 people there total. I, of course, didn’t recognize any of them, so I took a seat away from everyone else. Nobody even spared me a glance, and I felt comfortable in my solitude, until the heavy door opened and shut behind me and a figure looked over me.
I looked up to see Steve, just as handsome as the first time I saw him. He was wearing a pair of joggers and a yellow sweatshirt, and he pulled off the comfy look well.
“Why are you sitting over here all alone?” he asked, one perfect eyebrow raised.
“I don’t know anyone,” I shrugged, and he scoffed.
“Well come sit by me and the guys from my dorm. I’ll introduce you.”
“I think I’d rather stay here.”
“Really?” I nodded slowly, “Then you leave me no choice.” He plopped down in the chair beside me, setting his things down and getting comfortable.
“What’re you doing?” I asked him.
“Well I’m not just gonna let you sit all alone.”
“But I like being alone,” I huffed, “Plus your friends miss you!” I gestured to the three guys staring holes through us.
He glanced in their direction and nodded, and that’s all it took for them to pile over to us.
“Stevie! My man! You gonna introduce us to your lovely friend?” One of them asked as he took the seat in front of us. He held his hand out for me to shake and I took it carefully, sighing.
“This is Grace.“
“That’s not my name!” I groaned.
“Then what is your name?” the tallest of the guys asked.
“Y/N.”
“Cute,” he winked at me, and Steve rolled his eyes sharply. “Y/N, this is Tate, Drew and Johnny.”
They all greeted me kindly and I responded in turn, but there wasn’t much time to talk before an older man walked in, an air of authority in his step.
“Hello, all. I’m Professor Chomsky, I’ll be teaching this course,” he began. What followed was a list of rules, regulations, class schedules, and lesson plans dull enough to make my forehead hit the desk in front of me.
“This is awful,” Steve whispered beside me, and the other guys nodded, “Another hour of his voice might kill me.”
“Shh!” I hissed at him, trying my best to focus on what the man at the front of the room was saying.
“Oh, get off it,” Steve smirked, “You’re just as bored as we are.”
“I’ll have you know I’m absolutely riveted!”
“Lying isn’t a good look, Grace.”
Just then, Tate chimed in, “Why do you call her Grace anyway if her name is Y/N?”
“It’s an inside thing,” Steve waved him off, “You wouldn’t get it.”
“Yeah, because calling me ‘Grace’ to make fun of me for being clumsy is such a hard joke to understand.”
“I don’t like your attitude today, Grace,” he furrowed his brows dramatically, and I couldn’t help giggling.
We were all interrupted by the sound of Professor Chomsky’s voice, booming at us to be quiet. We obeyed, whispering quietly every now and then but mostly hanging on by a thread to his monotonous words.
The class ended about a half hour later and Steve and I went our separate ways. We ended up having one more class together, and the guys were all in there, too, plus Drew’s girlfriend Natalie and Johnny’s sister Elaine. Robin as well. It was the most fun of all of them. It also happened to be my last class of the day. As it wrapped up and we all packed up our things, Steve stopped in front of my chair.
“Can I walk you back to your dorm?” he asked me.
“Sure,” I nodded with a smile, throwing my bag over my shoulder and following him out.
We chatted on the five minute walk. I found that I didn’t want it to end, but I hoped when it did, he would ask for my number. Or something, at least, to make me think he was interested. Part of me knew he wasn’t, though. Not as more than a friend.
“Here we are,�� I sighed as we approached the doors.
“Yeah,” he nodded, “So… umm.. I’m happy we have those classes together. It’ll be nice to hangout every week.”
“Yeah, and we seem to have a good little group going. I like everyone a lot.”
“Everyone likes you a lot, too.”
I swayed on my toes, staring at him, waiting patiently. For what, I wasn’t sure.
“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow?” he proclaimed, his voice chipper. I nodded slowly. “You know the drill, I can’t leave until you’re inside safe.”
I rolled my eyes and gave him a dopey grin, walking in just as I had the last time.
• Hangout at Elaine’s Apartment
Days of hanging out with Steve in class passed slowly, and I soaked in every moment. I was trying desperately to keep what I felt at bay, but it proved difficult when he wanted to walk me home every day.
A month went by and it was Saturday. I woke up around noon, the week had been especially exhausting, and immediately started studying. Robin did the same, sitting at her desk beside me and rifling through her flash cards.
“How is it that he’s walked you home every single day and still not asked for your number?” she asked out of nowhere.
“Robin, we’re talking about biochem. Not Steve.”
“Believe me, Steve is a scientific anomaly, so it’s close enough.”
I rolled my eyes, “I don’t know, okay? It’s like I wait for him to make a move or something every day, but he never does.”
“Well isn’t there anything between you both? All the rest of us can see it!”
“There’s chemistry, or at least I thought there was, but now I’m sure it was just one sided. He’s just not into me like that.”
“Then why does he walk you home every single day and not me?”
“Well… you have another class after that so you couldn’t walk with us, and he probably just doesn’t want to walk that far twice a day.”
“You’re grasping at straws. The boy wants you.”
“Why are you so invested, anyway? It’s not that serious, Rob. We’re just friends, that’s fine with me.”
“I just…” she started, trying to form her words correctly, “Steve has never been good with girls. He had one girlfriend, in high school. She wasn’t the best. I mean, she was fine, and he was happy, but she hurt him and he.. well, the details don’t matter but anyway. He never really had luck with any other girls. He was always too caught up in something else. But now we’re out of that town and you can’t convince me that your coming into our lives was a coincidence. Steve deserves this, and I want him to have it. If he can just get out of his own way.”
“And if he can’t?”
“He will. Believe me. It’s just gonna take a big push.”
“I’d rather just be his friend than stress myself over it,” I shrugged, going back to my studying.
A couple hours later, Robin got a text from Steve telling her that everyone was hanging out at Elaine’s apartment and we should come.
“Wanna go?” she asked me.
“I don’t know, I have a lot of studying left to do,” I hesitated.
“I was only asking to be polite. We’re going,” she stated, grabbing my hand and pulling me to my closet. “And you’re not wearing those wrinkly old jeans and a baggy t shirt. Pick something cute.”
“I’m not really a ‘cute clothes’ girl.”
“Well, tonight, you are.” She looked through my closet, pulling out a yellow sundress I stole from my mom’s closet at some point in time. I had to admit, it was a beautiful dress.
“You’ll wear this with your white sneakers,” she instructed, leaving no room for argument so I just nodded. “Steve won’t know what hit him!”
“Honestly, he’s probably into Elaine.”
“Why do you think that?”
“She’s… well, she’s older. She’s smart, and beautiful, and she always dresses to impress. She’s just.. she’s got everything.”
“Yeah, that’s why I have a crush on her. But I promise Steve doesn’t.”
“Whatever you say.”
Before long, it was time to get ready. I put on a little makeup, just some mascara, blush, and lip gloss, and paired gold hoops and a gold charm bracelet with the dress, slipping on my sneakers and following Robin out the door.
We were supposed to meet Steve outside of his dorm. The plan was for him to drive us to Elaine’s. As we approached the parking lot, we saw him leaning against the driver’s door of his car. Elaine was right in front of him, and they were locked in what seemed like a deep conversation.
“What’s that all about?” Robin asked as we took a step or two closer. I stopped in my tracks, though, when Elaine leaned up and kissed him square on his lips.
My heart shattered into about a million pieces. It’s crazy how you never know how intense your feelings for someone are until they blow up in your face. Sure, it hadn’t been long since I met him, but everyone has had a crush that spiraled out of control way too quickly.
“Hey, love birds?” Robin called out, her voice accusing.
They broke apart, startled, and stared at us dumbly. No doubt Steve saw the hurt on my face, but I tried so hard to keep it at bay.
“Grace,” he started, making a move to walk over to me, but the scene was interrupted by the other 3 guys joining us.
“Okay, so how’s this gonna work?” Tate blurted as they approached, “I know Y/N and Steve always have to sit by each other, And Natalie will be on Drew’s lap in the back, so I’m assuming Robin is gonna squeeze in the back with us?”
“I’d rather ride on the hood,” she croaked.
“It’s fine,” I sighed, “I’ll ride in the back with you guys, Robin can sit up front.”
“Well, someone can ride with me,” Elaine offered, “And you’ll just have to ride uncomfortably on the way back instead of both ways?”
“I will,” Natalie offered, “Wanna join me, Drew? That way there’s room in Steve’s car for everyone?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, following her to Elaine’s vehicle.
“I still wanna sit in the back,” I shrugged, climbing into the middle and letting both boys climb on either side of me.
Steve stared into the car at me for a moment, fists clenched, before climbing in behind the wheel and pulling off.
The ride had the potential to be awkward, and if it wasn’t for Johnny and Tate, it would’ve been. They lightened the mood a lot. Between their jokes and banter, I felt comfortable a couple minutes in. It was only a ten minute drive, and it went by extra quick with them.
As Steve pulled in, the car lurched to the side and threw me onto Tate.
“Woah there, I see why Steve calls you Grace now,” he laughed as he helped me up. The spark I felt when it happened with Steve wasn’t there, but Steve didn’t know that, and he sent us a death glare through the rear view mirror.
Elaine pulled in right after us and lead us up a flight of stairs to an isolate apartment, quite large. It was a one bedroom two bathroom, but every room was huge.
“Mi casa es su casa,” she sighed as we walked in. “I’ve got drinks, card games, books to study, and lots of movies. Whatever you guys are into!”
“Let’s starts out with the drinks,” Johnny suggested, and everyone nodded.
Moments later, we all had a beer in our hands. Elaine suggested we save the liquor for after, and we agreed. We also all collectively decided we would play Cards Against Humanity until we were tipsy, and then we would watch a horrible movie together.
Music played from the radio in the background as we all settled into our spots for the night. Drew and Natalie on the bean bag chair, Johnny Tate and Robin piled onto the couch, and Elaine cozy in her recliner. That left only the loveseat for Steve and I, and I fought a scowl.
“Scoot over, Rob,” I gestured, but she refused.
“I wanna stretch out and be comfy! There’s plenty of room on the love seat!”
I rolled my eyes and flipped her off, walking begrudgingly to Steve and plopping down beside him.
“Is sitting by me really that bad of a thing?” he asked, and everyone stared at me, waiting for an answer.
“No, it’s fine. It’s just.. Robin was right. Your cologne is a lot.”
He almost looked hurt, but he shook it off as we started the game.
A few rounds in, Steve leaned back in his seat, accidentally shifting himself closer to me. I stared down at his leg, almost touching mine.
“You look nice tonight,” he mumbled so nobody but me could hear, “I’ve never seen you in something so… delicate before.”
“If you’re gonna compliment someone, it should be your girlfriend,” I shrugged off what he’d said and took a long swig of my beer.
“Girlfriend?” he furrowed his brows.
“You know. The girl you kissed.”
“Oh.” He stared at his lap. “Listen, Grace, that wasn’t -“
“I don’t want to hear it,” I shrugged, “Doesn’t matter to me. You guys are super cute together, I’m real happy for you.”
He looked taken aback but my tone told him he should let it go, and he did, taking a swig of his own beer and leaving me alone for the moment. The moment didn’t last long, though, because before long everyone was a little intoxicated from all the alcohol and his arm was resting on my shoulders. I couldn’t fight the way I fell into him, I could barely even fight the sleep.
“Movie time!” Elaine exclaimed, jumping up to find her favorite DVD. She picked a cheesy old scary movie that barely made sense, and we were all more than happy with it. Nobody wants to watch a good movie while they’re drunk. She settled back in as it began, munching on the snacks she’d brought out for everyone.
“Please talk to me,” Steve mumbled into my hair.
“Don’t want to,” I slurred out, closing my eyes and breathing him in. My actions didn’t match up with my words and I knew that, but I couldn’t help myself.
“Well then come here,” he sighed, grabbing me under my knees and pulling me into his lap. He rested me against his chest, holding me snugly, letting me get as cozy in him as I wanted. “Talk to me when you’re ready.”
If I’d been sober, I would’ve worried about cuddling with Elaine’s boyfriend right in front of her, but I wasn’t. I did spare her a glance, though, and she smiled at me. Strange. She didn’t seem to care at all.
“Shouldn’t you be snuggling with Elaine over there?” I whispered to him, my face nestled in the crook of his neck.
He pulled a blanket from beside the armrest and tucked it over me as he responded, “Let’s talk when we’re sober.”
“Wan’ talk now,” I hummed.”
“She’s not my girlfriend, Grace. The closest thing I have to a girlfriend is you.”
“But y’kissed her and you never kissed me,” I pouted. I don’t know whether my attitude came from sleepy delirium or intoxication.
“You’re right,” he nodded, leaving it at that.
“Y’could if you wanted to,” I breathed out as I drifted off into sleep.
I woke up in the passenger seat of the car. Robin was driving, and I looked around frantically for Steve before realizing I was in his lap.
“Oh, hi,” I mumbled.
“Morning, sunshine,” he smiled, “Go back to sleep. I’ll make sure you get in bed safe.”
“I don’t wanna go back to sleep,” I whined, leaning up.
I glanced in the back seat. Johnny was on one side, half asleep leaning on the window. Tate was in the middle, texting someone, and Drew was on the other side with Natalie passed out on his lap.
“Why’s Robin driving?” I asked curiously.
“He didn’t want you sleeping on anyone else,” she smirked at us.
“Oh,” I didn’t know what else to say to that.
He ran his hand through my hair, playing with the strands, twisting them between his fingers.
“That feels good,” I hummed, leaning into his touch.
“Yeah?” he asked as he kept going, tugging the strands a little harder.
“Mmhmm.”
“Get a room,” Tate coughed from his spot in the back, and we all giggled.
Finally, Robin pulled into the parking lot of our dorms.
“Come on,” Steve sighed, opening the car door and helping me out. His hand stayed at the small of my back as he walked me to the door, steadying me when I swayed slightly.
“I’m gonna have the worst headache tomorrow,” I whined.
“Probably,” he laughed, helping me up the stairs.
Robin cleared her throat, “I’m gonna go upstairs and let you guys… talk.” We nodded and watched her go, then turned back to each other.
“I should probably go up, too,” I mumbled, refusing to meet his eyes.
“Okay,” he nodded, but he didn’t let go of me. “I want to talk to you about -“
“I don’t want to talk about Elaine, Steve. Just go.”
“But-“
“No. I’m still drunk and I’m tired and my heart can’t take much more tonight so please just go and we’ll talk about it another time.”
“Grace,” he started, and I could tell he was frustrated, but I was too. It sucked walking up on him lip locking someone else. I didn’t want to listen or get over it yet. Any explanation he had wouldn’t be good enough for me, after all, what excuse is there to kiss another girl if he liked me? The only explanation was that he wasn’t into me, and he was trying to let me down easy. Or trying to have both.
“Stop,” I put my hand on his chest and pushed him away slightly, “I said another time. Please go.”
He watched me for a few seconds, waiting for me to change my mind, but I didn’t. I wanted him to go. For the first time, I wasn’t lingering or giving him that look like he could kiss me if he wanted to.
“Okay. Just take my number in case you need anything tonight.”
I nodded slowly, handing him my phone. He inputted the digits and handed it back, then let me walk inside in peace. I made it all the way upstairs before finally freeing my emotions, and the alcohol in my system caused them to spill out of my eyes.
“Oh, Y/N,” Robin sighed, walking over to sit by me.
“I am so over Steve Harrington,” I huffed.
“You didn’t even hear him out?”
“It doesn’t matter what he says, it’s not gonna wipe the image of them kissing out of my head.”
She nodded, staying up with me a little longer before we both nodded off.
The next morning, I woke up to a message from Steve. Apparently he’d called himself from my phone so he’d have my number too.
Good morning. Just checking on you. You feel okay?
I read it over and over before turning the phone off, deciding not to respond. I could feel my head pounding and I couldn’t take extra stress.
I got up, preparing to go get some water from the vending machine, but when I opened the door I saw a convenience store bag on the outside handle. I opened it to see advil, water, and powerade, along with a note scribbled on the receipt.
“Figured you might need this.
Let me know if you need anything else.
Steve.”
My heart grew as I paced back in the room, sitting on my bed. I texted him to thank him, then fell back to sleep with medicine and hydration in my system.
• The Next Class
I ignored Steve for the rest of that day. I suppose seeing him kiss someone else made the walls build up around my heart, but all I knew for sure was that he couldn’t get through anymore. Of course, I was still a bit sad. I liked Steve a lot, but we were better off as friends.
I walked to class the next morning, running a minute or two late but I knew Professor Chomsky wouldn’t care much. When I walked in, Steve and the guys were in their usual seats, and I took mine right in the center of them.
“Morning, Grace,” Steve absolutely beamed at me. I grinned tightly and politely in return, and pulled out my books, not bothering to respond. It probably seemed a little rude, but to me, it was what I had to do. “You gonna keep ignoring me? I screwed up that bad?”
I glanced over at him, “You didn’t screw up at all. We’re friends, Steve. I’m happy when you’re happy and if you’re happy with Elaine then I hope you guys work out.”
“Saturday night you were practically crying, and now you’re giving me your blessing and saying you want me to date her?”
“I was drunk. I’m not anymore, and yes, I want you to be with her. I’m sure she’s a great girlfriend. Just what you deserve.”
“Unbelievable,” he scoffed, “You really just want to be friends?”
“Yes,” I nodded curtly, turning to my books.
The other guys were looking at us curiously, like we were a soap opera playing right in front of them. They looked even more astounded when I walked out at the end of class without waiting for Steve. I felt horrible. He was the sweetest guy in the world. But clearly he liked Elaine more, seeing as she’s the one he made a move on, and I wasn’t going to stand in their way. I was sure it would get easier with time.
The next class I had with him went similarly. He tried to talk to me, and I brushed him off. I didn’t ignore him, I just didn’t entertain him, and I could tell it drove him nuts.
I could feel Elaine watching us, watching him. She must’ve been wondering why he was so wrapped up in me instead of talking to her. I was wondering that myself, but I let it go.
“Are you ever going to forgive him?” Robin asked as we walked out.
“I already did. It’s just not the same. I dunno,” I shrugged.
“I think you should hear him out. He’s bound to have an explanation for that kiss.”
“Even if he does, I don’t want to hear it, Rob. It happened and even if I decided to go back to how it used to be, I’d still see him kissing her in my brain every time he got close to me.”
“I understand,” she nodded, and we parted ways as she headed off to her next class. I, however, set off for my dorm.
“Grace!” I heard from behind me, and I sighed, knowing only one person called me that.
I turned around to see him sprinting to me, “I’m not letting you walk home alone.”
“Steve,” I sighed.
“No.” He seemed genuine, serious. “I care about you. Even if we’re just friends, I care about you. You don’t get to become one of my favorite people and then just cut me off. I’m walking you home. Like a friend would do.”
I stared at him for a moment, then nodded. Truthfully, I was delighted that he’d asked. I figured, with the way I’d treated him that day, he wouldn’t bother.
“So you and Elaine…” I started as we walked, genuine curiosity gnawing at me.
“Can we not talk about it?” he asked, and I nodded.
“Shouldn’t you be walking with her, though? How does she feel about our friendship?“
“Grace,” he warned, and I heeded, shutting up.
We made small talk the entire way, the awkward kind we weren’t used to. I hoped the “friendship” would come more naturally with time. After all, we’d been the best of friends for the entire two months since we met. And we’d never really been more than friends, so I wasn’t sure why this was throwing us off so much.
“Thank you for walking with me, Steve,” I said, preparing to walk away when he grabbed my hand.
“I really want us to go back to how things were before… what you saw.”
“I want that too, Steve. I just… can we forget everything and just be friends like we were?”
“Please,” he sighed, relief washing over him.
“But it can’t be quite the same. I don’t know if you realize how.. touchy, and close we are. Do you think maybe we could take a step back from that for a while?”
“If that’s what it takes to fix this, but I don’t want to. I hope you know that.”
“Steve, you have a girlfriend.”
“She’s not my girlfriend, she’s- well, she’s-“
“She’s what?”
“I can’t talk about it,” he ran his hand through his hair like he did when he was stressed.
“Of course. Well, when you’re ready to, we can go back to how it was. But for now, we’re just friends who don’t constantly sit by each other and hold hands and hug and walk together.”
“That’s fair,” he agreed, resigning himself to his fate.
With that, I left and we didn’t talk much for the rest of the day. He texted me, but I didn’t respond. I wanted him to get the picture.
• The Halloween Party
Another month passed slowly. Distancing myself from Steve was horrible. Every time the group hung out, he was agonizingly close, but I kept away and he respected my wishes and kept away from me, too. It almost itched, how badly I wanted to reach out and grab his hand. I thought it would become easier, but it didn’t. And the worst part was that the group wasn’t adjusting well to the new dynamic, constantly making jokes and comments about “me putting Steve in the dog house.”
Whatever had been going on with Steve and Elaine seemed to be over, they would chat but I never saw any PDA or even chemistry between them. In fact, she’d grown closer to Robin than anything, and when we would hang out, they would stick together. Natalie and Drew were a pair, and Steve would pack in with Tate and Johnny. I was sort of lonesome, but it was okay. Part of me wanted to just forget the kiss and go fully back to how it was, touching flirting and all. But as I told Robin, it was engrained in my memory and I didn’t really want him if he chose her first.
“Y/N,” Elaine snapped me out of my trance as we waited for class to start, all huddled up in our little group.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“I was telling everyone about my Halloween party. It’s gonna be you guys, and a few older friends I have in my other classes. Not, like, a banger, but definitely a crowd and a good time. Interested?”
“Of course, do I have to dress up?”
“Well it is a Halloween Party,” she rolled her eyes at me, laughing.
And that was that. We all planned to go. She was having it at her parents’ cabin, about 45 minutes away from the campus. Obviously, she couldn’t do it at her apartment.
The days leading up to it, Robin and I looked for costumes. She decided to go as Velma, and she tried to convince me to dress as Daphne but I suggested that Elaine be Daphne instead, and they both loved the idea. I had a costume of my own in mind.
I dug in the back of my closet until I found a black peasant dress that I’d had for forever. It was long sleeve, and the sleeves were lace and flared at the bottom. The cut was low and accentuated the way the corseted middle pushed up my chest, and the skirt flared out but still highlighted all my curves in all the right places. I paired it with some ripped up fishnets, black boots, and a funky witch’s hat I found at the Halloween store that also had lace lining it. It was perfect, maybe even good enough to get the kind of attention that would help me forget Steve once and for all.
When the day came for the party, Robin went to Elaine’s to get ready and I got ready alone. I curled my hair, did my makeup perfectly for the first time in forever, and finished the look off with red lipstick. Then I got dressed, and I was ready to head out the door when I got a phone call from Steve, whom I was supposed to meet outside of his dorm so he could drive me, Natalie, and the other guys there.
“Hey,” I answered, “What’s up?”
“Hey, just letting you know, don’t walk over. I’m coming to get you. Natalie is gonna take her car, and the guys are going with her, so it’ll just be me and you.”
“Okay, you headed here now?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there in like two minutes.”
“I’ll be outside waiting,” I told him and we hung up.
When he pulled up, I was standing on the curb, all dressed up. My nerves were bundled up in my stomach, and I felt like I needed to throw up. What if he didn’t like my outfit? He’d never seen me so dressed up before.
He got out of the car and ran over to the passenger side, opening the door for me. I couldn’t miss the way his eyes scanned me, hungry and searching for every exposed patch of skin he could see.
He cleared his throat as he sat in his own seat, “You look….”
“Different?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Good.”
I smiled, sitting back. My nerves were still there, but they were eased by the way he couldn’t stop staring at me, glances out of the corner of his eye giving him away as he began the drive.
“What’re you supposed to be?” I asked, raising my eyebrow at his black t shirt and black jeans.
“I didn’t want to dress up, but Robin said I had to so I just picked up a ghost face mask.”
“Ghost face, huh? Chicks dig that.”
“That’s exactly what Robin said,” he laughed, “Billy Loomis does it for girls, huh?”
“I’m not telling you what does it for me, but nice try.”
“I see the new look comes with a new attitude.”
I blushed, covering it up by staring out the window. We were doing so well, just being friendly. Why was he suddenly flirting now? And why was I flirting back? I told myself to get a grip, and stayed silent for a moment, so he turned up the radio, taking my hint.
The rest of the ride was filled with silence, heavy with tension. I felt like a rubber band about to snap, the glances he was giving me sending me into overdrive but I pretended I was fine, crossing my legs and staring out the window.
I opened my door before he had the chance when we pulled into the parking lot. There were a good bit of cars, and it seemed like a little more than a crowd. I suppose Elaine’s intimate hangout had accidentally turned into a party. Steve noticed this as well, placing his hand on the small of my back as we walked in together possessively but I brushed him off, walking over to where Robin and Elaine were sitting on the couch.
Robin must’ve been over the moon with all the attention she’d been getting from the older girl. Just by the way they were sitting, I could imagine her pulse racing. Elaine’s legs were thrown over Rob’s lap, her arms wrapped tightly around her neck. If I didn’t know them well, I’d assume they were a couple.
“Welcome to my party!” Elaine grinned.
“It did turn into quite the event, huh?” I chuckled, glancing around.
“One person told another person who told everybody, I guess,” she shrugged.
“Where’s the alcohol?” I asked her.
“Through that door,” she pointed to what I assumed was the kitchen. I walked that way, running into Tate and Johnny on the way, so they walked with me.
“You look hot, Y/N!” Johnny grinned wide as he told me so. He wasn’t being weird or anything, he was genuinely just giving me a compliment, so I grinned in return.
“Really, who knew you had this badass in you? Red lipstick and everything? Poor Steve must be having palpitations,” Tate laughed, and the other nodded.
“Steve and I are just friends.”
“That’s what you want, not what he wants. He loooooooves you, he wants to smooooooooch you,” Johnny sang, tapping his fingers together in a kissing motion.
“I think you’ve had too much too drink,” I scoffed, pouring myself a cup full of whatever looked good and leaving them to go back to the couch. The only open spot was beside Steve, so I took it, sipping on my drink.
“You’re not gonna make yourself a drink?” I asked him, and he shook his head.
“Put on your mask, dingus. It’s a costume party,” Robin reached over and poked him, and he rolled his eyes as he did as she asked.
He looked good. I could feel my heart begin to race as he turned to me, and usually it would’ve made me nervous, but I just felt powerful in that moment. I knew he thought I looked good. I wanted to use it. I wanted to make him burn like I had.
I leaned in close to him, “Wanna play psycho killer?”
“Grace-“ he started, but I cut him off.
“Can I be the helpless victim?” I placed my hand on his chest, my fingers brushing over where hair peeled through the top of his v neck. I almost felt him shiver. “Please don’t kill me, Mr Ghost Face. I wanna be in the sequel!” I trailed my hand down his chest, scratching him lightly with my nails. As I approached his waist line, he grabbed my wrist sharply, halting my movements.
“You think you’re cute?” he huffed.
“You think I’m cute,” I smirked. I pulled my hand away from him and got up, leaving him there basically panting as I walked away.
I found Johnny and Tate chatting with a couple of other guys, and approached.
“Oh, hey! Y/N! I was wondering where you ran off to!” Tate smiled, welcoming me in.
“Just went to mess with Steve,” I shrugged, glancing at the other guys. One of them had his eyes on me, and I took the opportunity.
“Are you friends with these guys?” I asked him, leaning in a little closer.
“Yeah, I stay in the same dorm as them,” the guy nodded.
“Oh, neat! I can’t believe I’ve never seen you before!”
“Yeah, but it’s okay. Plenty of time to make up for it,” he winked at me.
“What are you doing?” Johnny whisper yelled into my ear, “Steve is watching you!”
“Steve and I are just friends. He likes kissing other girls so I’m gonna go talk to another guy.”
With that, I stepped closer to the mystery man. “Wanna dance?”
He nodded, grabbing my hand and pulling me to the center of the floor where people were dancing. He turned me around and I began swaying with him, daring to glance over at Steve. He looked furious, absolutely fuming at the sight of me with someone else. I was thriving off of it.
All of a sudden, Elaine pulled me away from him, pulling me closer to the couches. The guy protested for a second but Elaine sent him a death glare and he backed off.
“Why are you doing this?” she sighed.
“Doing what?”
“Dancing with him. Steve is right there. You’re breaking his heart.”
“Steve kissed you, Elaine. Even if you guys aren’t a thing, even if it didn’t work out or whatever and he likes me now, it happened and I can’t just forget that. He liked you more than me or he wouldn’t have kissed you instead of me and I don’t want to be second choice.”
“But that’s not what happened! Steve and I were never a thing!”
“Well he must’ve felt something, because he sure did swap spit with you.”
“It was a peck,” she rolled her eyes and huffed, throwing her hands up dramatically, “And I’m gay.”
My mouth fell agape, “What?”
“I never knew. I mean, I always thought girls were cute or whatever but I never had romantic feelings for them. Then I met Robin and couldn’t think about anything else. Excuse my bluntness, but I’ve never wanted to scissor anyone so badly. Steve is so easy to talk to, I completely opened up that night. I asked him if I could kiss him to see if I felt anything. To see if it felt right, and he said yes and believe me, neither of us felt anything. It was just weird.”
“So you and Robin are together now?”
“Well… I’m hoping we’ll get together tonight, if you catch my drift.”
“And Steve never liked you?”
“Of course not. Y/N, he’s been head over heels for you since he met you. He doesn’t talk about anyone else, he doesn’t think about anyone else.”
“Oh God, why didn’t I just hear him out sooner when he tried to talk to me about this? I’ve screwed everything up!”
“Look at him. He loves you, it’s all over his face. You haven’t screwed anything up.”
I stared at him for a moment before thanking her and heading his way.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, standing directly in front of where he sat so my knees bumped into his bent ones.
“Why didn’t I tell you what?”
“About Elaine. If I’d just known-“
“I promised her I wouldn’t say anything to anyone until she was sure.”
“Still, you could’ve-“
“You were so upset about me kissing another girl, nothing but the truth would’ve worked.”
“Steve,” I sighed, “If I had known-“
“What would you have done?”
“I would’ve- Well, I would’ve-“
I couldn’t even complete my sentence, he cut me off at the jump, leaning in and slotting his lips onto mine. I was startled for a moment but he didn’t stop, and eventually I kissed back, savoring every second like it was the last. He pulled away as if he wanted to say something but I didn’t let him, pulling him right back in by his shirt and wrapping my arms around his neck. His hands found my back, pulling me closer into an arch and wandering, ghosting over my waist line.
We were cut short by cheers coming from beside us, and we backed away from each other just enough to look.
“It’s about damn time, dingus!” Robin huffed, wrapped tightly in Elaine’s arms. I blushed, hiding my face in Steve’s chest, and he leaned down to my ear.
“Come with me,” he whispered, and I nodded.
He lead me to the backyard, where a lake was glistening in the moonlight. There was a lake house beside it, cute and cottagey, like something out of a story book.
“Elaine is letting all of us stay here tonight,” he explained, “There’s only three bedrooms, though. So she told me we could stay out here.”
“She just assumed I’d be staying wherever you stay?”
“I mean, be honest with yourself, Grace. Even if we were still just friends, you’d rather bunk with me than anyone else here.”
“I suppose that’s true,” I shrugged, following him through the door to see that it was immaculately decorated. It didn’t have a real fireplace like the house did but it did have one of those huge automatic ones, so he turned it on, warming the place up. It was one room, there was a bed in the corner, not huge but big enough for the two of us, a TV above the fireplace and a couch in front of it with some other furniture scattered about. There was a closet and a bathroom, as well.
“We left the party awfully early,” I observed, turning to him.
“I have a night in a lake house with you, and you think I wanna waste it partying?”
“Well, when you put it that way,” I smiled, grabbing his hand and pulling him closer.
“I’m in love with you, Grace. I haven’t loved anyone in a really long time, and maybe never like this. And I know it’s quick, but I don’t care. I love you.”
“I love you too, stupid,” I rolled my eyes, pulling him closer until his lips met mine again and we fell into a dance of teeth and tongue.
He grabbed the fat of my hip, squeezing, the dress bunching up in his fingers.
“Fuck, Y/N, do you even know what this dress does to me?” he groaned, “Never seen you like this before.”
“I only bought it so you could take it off,” I rasped as his lips found my neck. At my words, he started sucking, leaving a mark I was sure would stay for days, and I moaned. Something about him wanting to claim me made me shiver, goosebumps littering my skin, my need multiplying.
“I can do that, baby,” he nodded, reaching behind me and pulling the zipper down slowly. He eased it down my shoulders, his fingertips brushing my skin and his eyes following their path. His irises got a little darker at the sight of the black lace covering my most sacred places, and he went ahead and undid the clasp of my bra, letting it fall with the dress.
“You look so pretty like this,” he sighed, staring at me for a moment, his gaze loving.
“Your turn,” I smirked, slipping my hands under his shirt and pulling it over his head. My fingertips clumsily attempted to undo his belt, and he stopped me, doing it himself one handed and throwing it on the ground. It was one of the hottest things I’ve seen him do. I let out a light moan, and he chuckled.
“Feel like a helpless victim yet?” he asked.
“You’re not wearing the mask, so no,” I shrugged jokingly, and he frowned.
“I can fix that,” he stated, walking to the table by the door where he’d set said mask. He pulled it on his head and my mouth fell slightly agape. He looked so perfect. So pretty.
“Want me to fuck you just like this?” he asked, and I nodded frantically. “Come here,” he grabbed my hips lightly, leading me to the end of the bed. He spun me slowly, “Bend over for me, baby,” he coaxed as he pressed on my back. I did as he asked and all I heard was a rip as he tore off the stockings, not worrying about my shoes.
I looked back to see him falling to his knees, then I felt his fingertips where I needed him most and I gasped. It was slow at first, just light touching, but I was absolutely dripping, desperately waiting for what I wanted.
“Steve, baby, please,” I whimpered, and he chuckled again.
“Anything for you, Grace,” he cooed, pushing one finger in. I let out a sigh and a moan, begging for more, and he obliged, pushing in another and eventually a third. Before long, he had a steady rhythm, pushing in and out of me in a way that had me ready to come apart.
“Please Steve, need it, need more, need you,” I panted, pushing back on him, reaching behind me to touch whatever part of him I could reach.
I heard a sharp zip as he undid his pants, kicking them off. His tip rubbed against my slit teasingly at first, then pushed in slowly, and I let out a shaky breath. He was huge, bigger than I’d probably ever had, and my walls were stretched deliciously. It didn’t help that I hadn’t done anything with anyone in a while. I’d been waiting for Steve since before I even met him.
“Please,” I whined, my voice a broken shell of what it was before he kissed me. He’d wrecked me already and hadn’t even fucked me yet.
“Here you go, baby. I’ve got you,” he sighed, setting a steady pattern of thrusts, hard and quick and perfect, everything I needed from him, His hands found my hips, squeezing hard enough to leave bruises, and I met him thrust for thrust pushing into him like a woman starved.
That lasted for a little longer before he pulled out abruptly. I whined, achingly empty, but he stopped me short by grabbing my hips and turning me over. “Scoot back,” he instructed, “I wanna see your pretty face.”
“I wanna see yours too,” I hummed as I did as he asked, scooting all the way to the top of the bed and laying my head down like a true pillow princess. He nodded, ripping the mask off and tossing it aside, and I gasped at him in all his glory. He was so handsome, hair a mess on his head, a slight sheen of sweat making him glisten.
He climbed up on top of me, grabbing my leg and putting it over his shoulder. He leaned down and captured my lips as he pushed in, and I groaned, the new angle putting him in just the right spot.
“I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that,” I whimpered.
“That’s the point,” he smirked, reaching down to rub circles on my clit as he fucked me harder. “Such a good girl, gonna cum all over me?”
I nodded frantically, wrapping my free leg around his back and pulling him in farther, earning a deep groan.
“You’re so perfect like this, taking it so good. Who woulda known my quiet girl could take it like this?” his words spurred me on, making me see stars as the coil in my tummy got ready to snap.
“Steve baby need to cum, please cum with me,” I gasped, clenching around him as I finally snapped, and he groaned. He wasn’t very far behind me, and we rode out our highs together, staring at each other when we were done like a couple of lovestruck kids.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to get here,” he whispered for only me, and I giggled.
“It’s okay, Steve. It’s my fault. If I hadn’t spent so long being jealous, this would’ve already happened.”
“I think it happened right when it was supposed to,” he smirked, kissing me on the forehead and walking to the bathroom. He wet a towel and brought it back, cleaning me up and then himself, then joined me in bed.
“Would you wanna, like, go on a date with me?” he asked, nerves clouding his voice.
I thought it over for a moment, leaving him in suspense.
“Of course. How about tomorrow?”
196 notes · View notes
nicorobinmywife · 1 year
Note
omfl your work is so good. some of my fave fics so far. would you write something like sanji having a strong bf? like, reader doing pushups while sanji sits on his back reading recipe books. anyways, tyy, have a good day.
thank u so much for liking my work 😭😭, i always wanted to write Sanji x strong bf and this request motivated me.
Sanji and his strong BF |Male Reader.
Tumblr media
Sanji absolutely loves how strong you are, having a strong boyfriend who is able to protect him is like a blessing that fell from the sky to him.
he feels so safe when you carry him in your arms, or over your broad shoulders, even when your hand travels around his small waist to keep him close to you.
sometimes he pretends to fall on purpose hoping you'll catch him, and you do, just to make him happy.
Sanji gets so turned on when he sees you shirtless and sweaty after a long training session, fighting the urge to worship every part of your body.
you and zoro became training buddies, just like him, you like to do exercises to keep your body in shape, let's say the idea didn't please your boyfriend very much, Sanji will make sure to keep an eye on the swordsman and make sure he doesn't try to steal you from him.
- only 12,000 push-ups, Zoro? looks like someone has been rusty. - you can hear a grunt from the swordsman beside you, he's probably mentally cursing you, thinking that by dating Sanji you adopted some of his traits, including the habit of teasing him.
- I doubt you can handle doing 50,000 push-ups like me. - doing push-ups on his finger alone, a smirk forms on the swordsman's lips and he raises an eyebrow as he looks at you, and of course you're not going to turn down this challenge, thinking how proud Sanji would be of you as he makes fun of the defeated swordsman.
without saying anything, you accepted the challenge and stayed in the same position as Zoro, doing push-ups just resting your finger on the ground and the other arm behind your back.
it was being easy for you, and apparently the pirate hunter wasn't going to give up so easily either, you felt an extra weight on your back and saw Sanji sitting on top of you.
- "y/n-saaaan, my strong, sweet and beautiful boyfriend!" - Sanji spoke slyly with his signature heart-eyes. - "do you mind if i sit here while i read my cookbook, my darling? I don't know what to prepare for dinner today, maybe if I stay close to you it will give me some inspiration, huh?"
Sanji knew very well that he was lying, this was just an excuse for him to stay close to you and protect his territory against the green haired swordsman at your side.
- of course, Sanji-kun, you know i love it when you sit on top of me. - the cook's face blushes slightly at his answer, you could even see a little blood running down his nose, he still doesn't know how to deal with you teasing him like that.
and that's how you spent the next half hour, doing push-ups with your boyfriend sitting on your back, not only defending his territory but also showering you with praise for being so strong.
unfortunately Zoro ended up beating you, it was a big ego boost for him beating the curly-brow cook's boyfriend, after the swordsman left feeling victorious, Sanji hugged you, wrapping his long legs around your waist, and burying his face in the side of your neck, even though you were all sweaty, he didn't mind inhaling your scent, going into ecstasy with your perfume invading his nostrils.
- don't worry, my love, i'm sure next time you'll beat that moss-head idiot. - he whispers in your ear trying to make you feel better, you weren't sad, after all it was just healthy competition between friends
- it's okay, Sanji-kun, i'm going to bathe now. - you got up off the floor and placed the cook on top of your broad shoulders, making him gasp at the sudden movement. - and of course, i'll take my needy boyfriend with me, what do you think, sweetheart?
- yes! yes! yes! I l-love it when we bathe together, my dear! I can't wait to appreciate every part of your strong and pretty body! - Sanji exclaims thirstily for you, with his face blushing and his mouth drooling just by imagining him relaxing in the warm water as your arms wrap around his body, keeping him safe and comfortable.
446 notes · View notes
perfinn · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
make my wish come true
simon 'ghost' riley x reader (sort of)
wc: 1.9k
summary: you're not certain simon is going to make it home in time for christmas, but a surprise shows up at your door
cw: NSFW, please be aware that while this is x reader, the reader is isa so she has a name and a few descriptions. it doesnt change the fic much, but if this doesn't vibe with u feel free to keep scrolling and dont complain to me about it. anyway, they have sex
this fic is my secret santa (organised by my love @bunnyreaper ) gift for the very lovely isa @alwaysshallow 💛 i hope you love it!!
read on ao3, divider by saradika
Tumblr media Tumblr media
A really rational part of you knows that it isn’t easy for Simon to get leave over the holidays. War and terror doesn’t stop for the sake of Christmas, and your boyfriend's work won't stop for your sake, though sometimes the both of you wish it would. 
Still, he’s promised you that if he can't make it home, he’ll find time for a facetime, or at the very least a phone call. It’s never quite the same as having him there with you, but you tell yourself it’s better than nothing. If he can't find the time, he’ll force it. Nothing’s gonna keep him from his girl, especially if he can't be right beside you. It's just that… he hasn't responded to any of your texts in the last few hours. 
Realistically, it shouldn't worry you. Simon goes out of range all the time, and he can't always warn you. But he does tell you when he’s heading out for missions, whenever he’s able. Sometimes it's classified, but rarely are they so classified he can't tell you it's happening at all. Especially over Christmas. 
You chew anxiously on a hangnail as you stare at the unopened message you last sent him. It hasn't even been delivered, infact. He must be really out of range if it hasn't even gone through. Simon always demands you not worry about him, and you try, but you think the season is probably making it harder. All the festive traditions you liked to do with him had been done alone. Decorating the tree and the house, wrapping the presents– which you preferred to do with him since his military precision made him the perfect gift wrapper – all had been done without him by your side. He’d want you not to mope, but he’s not exactly here to stop you. 
A knock at the door startles you from your silent lamentations, and you bite back a groan. Carollers? At this hour? Do they seriously have nothing better to do than bother you while you’re mourning for the fact you'll be spending Christmas without your boyfriend?
You lift yourself from the sofa and grab the spray bottle you’d prepared for this exact situation. You storm toward the door with the intent to give them an unwitting shower and a verbal ass-whooping, opening the door and not giving them a second to start singing. 
“It’s almost 11 at night! Do you seriously have nothing better–”
“Isa–”
“–to do than bother me?!”
“Isa.” 
“I’ll spray you- don't think I won’t–” You cut yourself off when you finally lower the spray bottle and catch sight of who it is at your door. 
Christ, it's not carollers. It's him.
“Simon?” You say, taking him in like he might be some sort of sad hallucination you’ve made for yourself. But no, he doesn't disappear when you blink, and he really is wearing that ridiculous santa hat over his balaclava. You don't waste another second staring at him before you're throwing yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him. 
He envelops you in his arms, tucking his face in your neck as he holds you just as tightly as you hold him. 
“Sorry I wasn't responding to your messages, love,” he mumbles, inhaling deeply like he’s trying to memorise your scent. “No service on the plane.”
You dare to pull away and look up at him, giving him the opportunity to tuck some of your hair behind your ear. His eyes crinkle with a smile, and the lines only deepen when your gaze travels up to the santa hat on his head. 
“Johnny’s idea,” he says before you can ask. “It’s bloody ridiculous.”
“And yet you’re wearing it,” you say with a fond smile, reaching up to play with the little white pompom on the end. You take his hands and drag him inside, needing to take your reunion inside where it’s warm and private, without the prying eyes of your incurably nosy neighbours.
He closes the door behind himself, reaching up to take the hat off. “He thought you’d find it funny. Very convincing.”
You take the hat from him as he tugs off the balaclava. You’ve found he’s more comfortable with it off, but only around you. He never wants to be Ghost here. Just Simon.
(Except for the times you ask Ghost to fuck you, but those aren’t on his mind right now, or on yours. You only want Simon, and Simon only wants you.)
Once the balaclava is off and Simon is leaning down to kiss, you put the hat back on. He falters, a confused smile tugging at his lips. “You want it on?”
You hum your affirmation, kissing him softly before tugging him toward the couch. “Johnny didn’t suggest mistletoe?”
“He did,” Simon says, sitting down and pulling you into his lap. “Told him I won’t be needing it.”
You grin, laughing softly as you press your lips to his. Simon adjusts you in his lap, warm hands settling on your hips. Sometimes, with Simon, it's hard and fast. Full of heated passion and desperation. But on these days, when he gets home from what can sometimes be months of deployment, it's like this. 
Soft, and loving, and slow enough that the both of you can feel every moment of it. One of Simon’s hands trails up your back, tangling itself in the hair at the nape of your neck and urging you closer, deeper, so that he can ease his tongue into your mouth. You part your lips with little prompting, knowing him and his body perfectly by now, knowing what he wants without a word spoken.
He keeps his hand firmly on your nape as he lays you down, refusing to part from your lips until he begins to trail his kisses downward, across your jaw and to the column of your neck. 
“You really want me to keep the hat on?”
You suppress a giggle, already shimmying out of your festive themed sweats for him. “Yes,” you say. “Least I deserve after being made to think I’d be spending Christmas alone.”
Simon snorts, trailing his nose down the fabric of your sweater before adjusting himself so he’s situated between your thighs, legs over his shoulders. You’ve truly got him wrapped around your finger– to have Lieutenant Simon Riley be willing to do stupid shit for you, like wear a santa hat while he fucks you, isn't something many people can say they have. Or any people. 
Simon tugs off your panties, trailing kisses down your inner thighs and taking you in. 
“Missed you so fuckin’ much, love,” he murmurs, pressing his tongue to your pussy and licking a long, languid stripe over it. Your mouth drops open with the feeling, your eyes slipping shut before you force them back open– you don't want to miss a second of taking Simon in. God knows how long he’ll be gone the next time. 
(You’re lying to yourself if you think you’ll have any control over your body once Simon has you coming on his tongue.)
He turns his attention right to your clit, lapping at it and scraping his teeth gently over it. Every bit of it has you shivering and arching, struggling to keep your eyes on him with every passing second. 
Simon, however, is making no attempts to take in the sight of you. He’s lost in the taste of your pussy, and it's evident how much he missed you by how deeply he worships you. He dips down to lap at your entrance, his nose bumping against your clit as he pushes into you, a soft groan rumbling against you. 
It's clear how very much you’ve missed him by how you’re squirming, and how you barely have a second to feel your release creeping up on you. Your eyes squeeze shut as you gasp, coming on his tongue like it was punched out of you. Simon groans again, lapping at you until your body un-tenses, leaving you staring up at the ceiling. You feel his mouth leave your pussy with a soft kiss before his face appears in your vision, looking all too smug. 
“Miss me, did you?” He teases, pressing a heated kiss to your mouth. You can taste yourself on his tongue, making you moan softly. 
“Shut up,” you murmur against his lips. “Course I did.” 
He chuckles, pressing a contrastingly chaste kiss to the corner of your lips. “Perfect girl. Okay to keep going?”
You hum your affirmation. Though you’re a bit sensitive still, you don't think you can go another second without the heavy weight of Simon’s cock inside you. He smiles – god, he looks beautiful in the dim light of the tree – and pulls away from your lips, one hand trailing up your body to shove your sweater up over your tits while the other undoes his pants. 
You catch the glint in his eyes when he realises you hadn't been wearing a bra, but you don't have a moment to appreciate it before you feel his tip pressing into you. You exhale in a deep moan as he splits you slowly on his cock, your body still accustomed to taking his size even as long as you’ve been apart. 
Simon leans down again, pressing his forehead to yours as he buries himself to the hilt, a slow exhale fanning over your face. “Perfect girl,” he says again, voice a strained murmur. You can tell he’s holding back, letting you adjust– but you can't wait any longer. 
“Simon, c’mon,” you urge, admittedly sounding pathetic in your desperation. Simon only chuckles, and obliges you. 
To be fucked by him again is a dream, the slow and appreciative stroke of his cock inside you better than any holiday gift you’ve ever gotten. He fills you so perfectly, so fully, like the two of you were made for one another. 
The hat falls off. It goes tumbling to the floor, and you don't have the sense to care. Your brain is just as full of Simon as your body is. The two of you are so lost in one another as he fucks into you, nothing seems to exist outside of you. 
He curses, elbows planted beside your head. “Missed this pussy,” he mumbled. “Thought of her every day.”
Your cheeks warm as he grows a bit faster, more erratic– but Simon has nothing if not self control. So he holds back on his own release, instead reaching down to toy with your clit. You moan, breath pulled from your lungs as your oversensitive nerves bring you right to the edge of another orgasm. 
Simon draws it out of you nice and slow this time, though, so you feel it wash over you in slow waves, rather than it hitting you like a tonne of bricks. He presses wet kisses to your throat as he does, his breath faltering at the feeling of your cunt fluttering around his cock. 
He fucks you through it, and only when you fall still and get a bit whiney from the overstimulation does he come himself. He groans low and heavy, burying himself in you and pressing his body close to yours. He spills inside you, catching your lips in an admittedly sloppy kiss. When he finally stops coming– christ, did he not come his entire deployment? – he settles himself on top of you, cock softening inside of you. 
You both pants, bask in one another. Your hand finds Simon’s cropped hair, fingers carding through it as his hands find your dark strands. 
“How long are you home for?” You ask, hoping you haven't ruined the mood with the question. 
“Until January,” he tells you, and you smile. You press a kiss to his hair, sighing in content and letting your eyes wander to the twinkling tree in the corner. 
139 notes · View notes
ewanmitchellcrumbs · 11 months
Note
Okay I have just binged your Favours ettore works and 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨 I love the way you write so much, it just— idek how to explain it, but it’s just so elegant and fluid, does that make sense????
Anyway, I have not been able to get it out of my mind no matter how much I try, but I keep wondering how ettore would react if he were ever to get jealous?? Bc I def see him as controlling/dominant still like how u were explaining in the first kiss Drabble and the fact he is jealous over the box ! It just sends my mind in a frenzy to think what would he do if he were actually jealous of someone!! If u don’t want to take this request, no worries, I just wanted to voice the idea!!
Again, I am so in love with ur works and appreciate them beyond belief, thanks for writing all these fantasies out for us 💕💕 I hope ur doing well and staying safe
Hello! Sorry for the long wait for this. I hope you enjoy it.
Tumblr media
Warnings: Language, violence, choking, smut. Word count: ~1500
Main series masterlist
Author's note: No gods, no masters, no tag lists. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.
The ship has been in sleep mode for less than an hour when she feels the weight of her bunk dip beside her and the lean hardness of Ettore’s body press against her back.
“Did anyone see you?” She whispers.
“No.” Comes his curt reply, his fingertips biting into the swell of her hip.
She exhales a shaky sigh, heat pooling between her legs as he grinds against the curve of her backside. Parting her thighs on instinct, as his hand snakes between them to drag her underwear to the side, she bites her lip to stifle the wanton moan that almost escapes her as Ettore pushes inside of her.
She clutches the pillow beside her head, her grip vice like at the pleasurable hurt of the initial stretch to accommodate his size. Once fully sheathed within her, he wraps a hand around her throat, pulling her flush to his chest as he sets a relentless pace, his hips snapping rapidly against her.
This is no gentle lovemaking, merely a means for both of them to get off, as per their agreed arrangement.
They remain in the same position for a few moments afterwards, both silently getting their breath back.
“Same time tomorrow, yeah?” He murmurs against the shell of her ear.
She nods. “I’m on daytime work duty with Monte this week, so yeah.”
He tenses up behind her, but with how swiftly he pulls out and leaves the cell, she is sure she must have imagined it. Closing her eyes, she allows sleep to take her, lulled by the satisfying ache between her thighs.
The next day she stands in the galley, her nose wrinkling in disgust as she sniffs the open packet of powder she’s about to dump into the vat of boiling water to prepare the crew’s afternoon meal.
“The food is definitely more edible when you don’t have to see how it’s prepared.” Monte says with a smirk.
She laughs. She likes Monte, he’s easy to talk to and far less intense than most of the others on board the ship. If he suspects anything is going on between her and Ettore, he hasn’t said anything, even after hearing Ettore call him a cockblock, and she is hugely appreciative of his silence.
“Not excited for…” She lifts the packet to read what’s been stamped on the silver foil. “...beef chilli?”
Monte scoffs, taking the package from her and upending it into the boiling water. Both of them watch as it fizzes and expands, looking completely unappetising.
“I’m gonna go sort things out in the scullery.” She tells him. “You okay to finish that off?”
He fires her a mock two fingered salute as she steps backwards. Her arms reach behind her head as she moves away, eager to fix her rapidly loosening ponytail.
“Fuck!” She mutters as she feels the elastic snap around her fingers.
“You good?” Monte calls to her from over his shoulder.
“Yeah, hair tie snapped is all.” She sighs, holding her hair away from her face.
He wipes his hands on his trouser legs, and turns to face her. “Here, let me.” He offers, beckoning her closer.
He takes the snapped elastic from her and she allows him to spin her around as his fingers work deftly to pull her hair back and knot the broken elastic around it. “That should hold until you can replace it.”
“Thanks.” She says with a smile.
She’s about to continue towards the back of the galley, where the scullery is located, when she hears the door crash against the wall with the force of which it’s been thrown open.
There is barely time for her to register the blur of movement as Ettore throws himself towards Monte, knocking him to the ground and punching him.
A sickening crack causes her to gasp and she crouches beside the pair as they scuffle, attempting to pull Ettore off of Monte, who has now managed to land a blow of his own to Ettore’s face.
“Get the fuck off him!” She cries out to Ettore, tugging desperately at his shoulder. 
He throws his elbow back, attempting to shake her off, and it connects with her jaw, sending her reeling backwards with a cry of pain.
It’s only then that Ettore stops, looking back at her, and for the briefest of moments she sees panic in his eyes. He is quick to climb to his feet and leave, while Monte remains on the floor holding his face.
She crawls towards him, her eyes wide with concern. “Are you okay?”
“Prick broke my nose.” He utters. “I need to go to the med bay.”
She winces as she watches Dibs reset Monte’s nose, which is in fact broken. Her heart constricts when Dibs inquires as to how this happened.
“A pan fell from a shelf in the galley.” He tells her. “Caught it with my face.”
Her jaw drops in disbelief. He’d lied. She cannot understand why Monte would do such a thing, but the relief she feels is immeasurable.
Dibs doesn’t seem like she quite believes Monte’s explanation, but doesn’t push any further, allowing them both to return to their work duty.
She seeks out Ettore after lunch, finding him skulking in the laundry room, a bright red split now decorates his lower lip.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” She hisses angrily.
Ettore grunts in response, slamming the door to a washer closed.
“Answer me!” She shouts in frustration after a few moments.
He rounds on her with such rapidity that she takes a fearful step back, until he is crowding her space. He reaches up a hand to trace his fingertips over the side of her face.
“Did I hurt you?” He asks softly. “I haven’t hit you since we started…you know…I know I’m not supposed to.”
She has to bite back a laugh at the absurdity of it, it’s like listening to a child explain why they ought to look both ways before crossing the street.
“You didn’t.” She tells him. “But you broke Monte’s nose. Why?”
Ettore pulls back with an offhand shrug. “He was touching you.”
She shakes her head in disbelief. “Are you for real?! We were on work duty together. My hair tie snapped!”
“You could’ve been put on work duty with Mink or Boyse.” He scowls. “Don’t see why it has to be him.”
“Oh my god, you’re jealous!” She rolls her eyes.
Ettore’s jaw ticks, he exhales in irritation. “Do you have any idea what the blokes on this fucking ship would do to you, given half the chance?”
“You are jealous. Fucking hell, that’s pathetic.” She says in disbelief with a shake of her head.
He crowds into her space once more, backing her against the wall as he stares into her eyes, cold and predatory. “You’re mine.”
The words send a shiver of arousal through her and she makes no attempt to stop him as he yanks at the waistband of her scrubs, tugging them down her legs along with her underwear, before pulling down his own.
She cries out as he sinks his teeth into the juncture between her neck and shoulder, the pain serving to further ignite the heat building in her lower belly. She knows she should fight him off, be angry with him for attacking another crew member, but his possessiveness of her fuels her desire for him. She needs this. 
Their movements are hurried and desperate, his grip rough as he tugs her leg over his hip, the force with which he thrusts inside of her causing her head to tip backwards as it takes her breath away.
He fucks her against the wall as though he is trying to push her through it. His grip on her will surely leave bruises in its wake, his head is kept buried into the crook of her neck, where he had bitten just moments before. The only sounds are the soft hum of the washers and dryers, intermingled with the lewd wet noise emanating from where their bodies meet and their quiet pants and sighs.
It doesn’t take long for Ettore to reach his end, spending inside of her with a full body shudder. She doesn’t mind that she hasn’t been brought to peak, there is something so primal and urgent about allowing him to claim her like this that makes her feel as though all of her nerve endings are tingling with electricity.
Slowly he pulls away from her neck, breathing heavily as he rests his forehead against hers.
The moment is short lived, however, as the scuffle of shoes on the linoleum alert them to the presence of Boyse, who stands staring wide eyed with shock before hurrying back the way she’d come.
They’d been caught.
Post script author's note: I have one further request to fill for this series, which will serve as a follow on from this part, so please do not pester for a part two. I am currently accepting requests for Ettore, but no further requests which relate to this series. The next instalment will serve as its final part.
157 notes · View notes
kenny-the-ken · 1 year
Text
Y O U + M E |Pt 3|
A LOT OF WARNINGS WITH THIS ONE!!!! ALL AGED UP CHARACTERS AND IN HIGH SCHOOL/COLLEGE!! Loosely based on the Netflix show YOU, if y'all have seen it,,, then you know what Kenny's gonna do. If you haven't seen it,,, strap yourselves in, it's a lot!! Yandre Kenny, strong language, sexual content, violence, mentions of blood, gore, stalking, obsession and narcissistic thinking, so please beware!! I warned y'all!!
ALSO!!! A lot of this fic is written as Kenny's internal monologue and from his perspective so bare that in mind!!
Tumblr media
Spring break. The literal bane of my existence. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love parties, I've taken more drugs than most people I know, excluding my parents of course, but Spring Break in the US was known for crazy parties, girls half naked in bikinis, guys chugging 2% alcohol content beers thinking that they're the shit, and copious amounts of drugs.
I don't care about any of that though, no, not at all, which you may be extremely shocked to hear, the only thing I cared about was, what were you doing for spring break?
Were you going to any parties? Were you meeting any friends, old or new? Were you planning to show yourself off in a tiny bikini, not that I'm complaining, but I'd rather see you like that alone, without other men's wondering eyes glaring at you as if you're a piece of meat. I can promise you y/n, that would not end well for anyone involved.
I had texted you this morning, like we do every morning. We fucked but after that it felt like we drifted apart. Or rather, you drifted from me. So here I sit, in my bathroom, cock in hand with my face buried in your used panties that I'd stolen from a while back, I assumed you didn't miss them much, and anyway, they were currently in use.
I'd give anything for another taste, your lips were soft, plumped, and oh so red from how aggressive I can be, your h/c cascaded perfectly down your back, and your breasts.
"Fuck." I knew thinking about you like this would make me cum faster, and that's exactly what I wanted, for reasons you'll find out soon enough.
Your pierced nipples and how perfectly shaped they were, your ass was round and perfect for slapping when you needed taught a lesson. Your hips were perfect for gripping, and oh how I'd grip your hips and fuck myself deeper and deeper and shit.
And just like that, here I am, hand covered in my own jizz, cock twitching between my legs and your panties still in my hand.
I have a box, I keep it under lock and key behind my wardrobe, just some little souvenirs, your panties, some nude Polaroids I'd found of you in your bedroom. Oh yeah, and one of Clyde's teeth. Just to remember him by.
You see, although we weren't dating, that didn't mean that you weren't in need of protection, you see, I'd overheard Clyde chatting to Jimmy about how he was thinking of asking you on a date. Now, I've known Clyde for a long time, he uses women like they're nothing, fucks 'em, leaves 'em.
What did you expect me to do? I mean, I did this for you! He was going to take advantage of your kindness and use you for his own sexual gratification and desires and then throw you away like you're worthless, and you are far from worthless. I'd kiss your feet as you walked the earth if you'd let me, oh how I'd worship you, like you deserve to be.
It wasn't too hard to kill Clyde, you see, when you've been known as a fuck boy before, which I unfortunately have been, other fuck boys, they tend to trust you more. So Clyde was pretty easy to reel in. I told him the truth, how I was working on an English project with you and I fucked you in your bedroom, and Clyde was all over that shit like a dog on heat. He was so focussed on what he was planning to text to you, obviously with my keen eye proof reading it for him, he was too distracted to notice me coming behind him with a brick. He only realised just as it was too late, sorry dude, your skull's caved in.
We needn't worry about the details of where his body is, let's just say... I've taken care of it. And tonight was our date, and also the first night of spring break, I would ask you what you were up to, and of course I wouldn't demand to come, unless you chose to invite me, no, I would just hang out in background, you won't even notice that I'm there. And I dare anyone to try anything, they would be dead men walking.
It didn't take long for the time of our date to roll around, and I stood on your doorstep, politely knocking on your door a few times, before smiling as the door cracked open.
You were breathtaking. I'd worked my ass off at City Wok to be able to afford to take you out to dinner, and my god, no food could ever look as delicious as you looked right now. Your tits, your hips, your ass, your legs, your hair, your face, everything! We were destined to be together, and when you smiled back at me I swore my heart swole in my chest.
"Hey, Kenny. You ready to go?" You asked, pulling your leather jacket on over your short, black dress that was showing off way too much cleavage for me to control myself for the entire evening, god I'd take you right here right now if I could.
"I was born ready, baby. I got these for you." I replied, bowing to you and holding out a small bouquet of flowers, your hand clutching your chest, and a gasp leaving your red stained lips.
"They're beautiful, Ken! Oh you shouldn't have! I'll just go get these into a vase, please come in." You spoke like an angel, and who was I to say no to an invitation into your home?
"I wanted to. I really do mean what I said last time, I've had my eye on you from you moved here, y/n, and you're different than those other girls, you're special, I can tell." You cheeks were flushed which meant that my charm was working. You'd be mine soon, and as much as I wanted to show you off to the world, I also wanted to hide you from it, so no one would dare to try and steal what's rightfully mine, or they'd end up like Clyde. Buried in the middle of fuck knows where.
"Had your eye on me? Not a little stalker are you, McCormick?" You joked, and I hoped it was a joke, you were laughing and so was I, so that was a good sign.
"Not at all! I mean, how could my eyes not go to you when you walk past me? I mean, look at you!" And slinging my arms round your hips would surely make you see that I was nothing but a pure gentleman.
"You're such a flirt, Kenny." God the way you looked at me, it was no surprise that to me that you'd stolen my heart, god the things I would do to you, the things I would do for you, oh they were criminal, but in this moment as I stood staring into your perfect e/c eyes, I couldn't care if my crimes caught up with me, I mean, getting away with it would be easy, trust me, I'm not that stupid.
Around two hours had passed and so far, our date seemed to be going perfectly, you were laughing at my jokes, I flirted, and you flirted right back, you'd told me about a huge spring break party at Tolken's house, you'd asked me to be your plus one, of course I'd gratefully accept, I needed to keep you safe, you even took my hand within your own when we were leaving the restaurant, my plan was working a charm, and you'd invited me in to your house for a quick night cap, no doubt I'd be staying the night.
And when you led me to your bedroom wearing nothing but some skimpy lingerie, I knew that your panties that were in my safe would be getting a much needed night off from being pressed against my face.
You were on top of me, grinding on me, fuck you were so needy, and my cock was growing by the second, I couldn't help but groan and pull your hips down against my own.
I'd swapped the positions, and now you lay beneath me, I'd left dozens of hickeys all over your neck, your breasts, your stomach, thighs, and now I was going to taste your sweet cunt again, god I couldn't wait, it had been too long from I'd tasted you, had my tongue inside you, claiming your insides, god I was starved, and I couldn't wait any longer, and just as I pressed a closed mouth kiss against your parted lips, your fucking phone rang.
"Ignore it. Don't answer." I ordered, my tongue lapping up your wetness, a moan coming from your lips as your phone started ringing again, and of course, being the kind person that you are, you answered.
And this couldn't have been a worse time, your face was worried, and you moved my head from where I wanted desperately to be for the past week, it was your mother.
Drug overdose, she was in hospital and you had to be there to take care of her, not that she ever did the same for you. No, you'd told me previously that our lives were similar in a lot of ways, and that's where my need to protect you came from. You were like a delicate flower awaiting to bloom, but others put you in the dark, stopped you ever from doing so, from ever reaching your full potential, but I was here now. I was going to care for you, I'd put you in the sun and give you all the love and support I could, the perfect partner, a soul mate some may say.
And as you hurried to pull your sweatpants and T-shirt on to your small frame, tears welling in the corners of your eyes, you gave me a hug, whispering sweet apologies, and I offered to come with you, which you declined. And I understood why, I hated people meeting my parents, seeing my sorry excuse of a home, fitted with built in meth lab in the garden. You were embarrassed, ashamed of your drug addict mother, and I felt that pain, I knew it personally. I was strong enough to deal with it, but you darling, you're too fragile, far too good to be feeling that way, and by god would I protect you from anything.
I'm so sorry to say this baby, your mother will never get clean, she's never been clean your entire life, it truly is a miracle that she's lasted this long. I'd be doing you and everyone else a favour. You'd told me this wasn't the first overdose she'd had, and every one made you feel the same way, like you were the parent, like you were at fault, you didn't keep an attentive enough eye on her, the pain you were feeling was soul destroying, not just for you, but for me too! How dare that woman who brought you into this world make you feel so awful, how dare she cause you pain and misery, if she died it would mean she couldn't cause any more of that, sure you'd be sad, but you'd realise in time that life was better without having to worry every time you left the house if you would come back to your mother, her skin blue and covered in her own vomit, which she choked on in her drug idled state.
And I would care for you, I'd be your shoulder to cry on, your support network, your lover and your boyfriend all tied into one, the whole package, you'd fall straight into my lap and I swear, I'd never ever let you go.
I'm sorry hunny, but your mother needs to be dealt with, and it would be easier than you'd think, one bad batch could wipe out hundreds of drug addicts, and besides, it's not as if I'd never used this method before. My parents died of an 'overdose', well, at least that's what the coroner's report said on the matter, Karen was put into my care, and the home was given to us, and life had been so much happier from I did my whole family a favour and took them out of the equation, and I know you will feel the same, in time at least.
As I drove you to the hospital you told me about your childhood. How you'd been in foster care, then your mother cleaned her act up and for a long time she was stable and in recovery, till she met some douchebag when you were ten, and she was back to using again, and your life had never been the same since.
When we pulled up outside the hospital, you hugged me tightly and kissed me twice, telling me that you'd text me later, and thanking me for the lovely evening, I assured you that this was to be the first of many of these delightful evenings, and even in the deepest depths of your pain, you still smiled at me.
I watched you till your figure disappeared inside the hospital, and I knew there and then what had to be done. I'm sorry baby, but your mother isn't good for you, she's not good for you, not good for us!
She had to go, and I had to be the one to kill her.
182 notes · View notes
juvnvalen · 4 months
Note
hiiii!
about your Yandere Tennant profile... and that it mentioned
"she lets her darling pleasure her"
may u pls do a fic of it??? if its okay though!
(Nsfw plis🥺👉👈💍)
Have not written lately head empty. I'm super fixated on apex rn pretty short fic but we balling :3 keep in mind not proofread, so don't mind errors ^^ Pairing: Tennant x Fem Reader (FxF) TW: NSFW, Ooc behavior, and obligatory tennant warning.
Tumblr media
You laid casually on the bed, your head rested on her lap as she read through a newspaper. Her fingers gently comed through your hair, and you sighed wistfully at the soft contact.
A hand found made its way up to her abdomen, tugging playfully at the hem of her pants. She glanced down at you at the contact, but didn’t say a word, her gaze lingingering on you.
You sat up, moving to straddle her, you removed the paper from her hands and tossed it to the side carelessly. Her expression changed from one of peacefulness to a cocky smirk.
“Something you need, darling?” Her hands moved to your back, tugging you closer to her.
“There’s lots I need, where should I start?” You whispered teasingly, her eyes rolling playfully. One of her hands tugged at her shirt, looking at you expectantly. “Take it off.” She demanded, and of course you obliged.
She left a teasing kiss against your collarbone, slowly making her way down to your chest. She softly nipped against one of your nipples, causing you to let out a needy whine.
“Ada, love of my life, my one and only, I have a request.” She removed her face from your chest, focusing on your face. “Hm?”
“I was wondering, if maybe, you’d allow me to pleasure you this time?”
Out of every night you and Ada had spent together, and it had been a lot, she’d never allowed you to reciprocate her treatment. You had asked before, and of course she had said no, her reasoning being she simply preferred giving it to you instead.
Ada rolled her eyes, sighing as she let herself relax against the bed. “Ugh.. I’d much rather service you my lady, wouldn’t you prefer that?” You groaned in annoyance, rolling your eyes at her. “Please? Just this once? I wanna make you feel good baby,” you cooed out, almost as if you were talking to a baby.
She looked away thoughtfully, a blush coating her cheeks. “I suppose, I’ll allow it. You’ll owe me.” You beamed at the response, squealing gleefully.
“Alright, take your pants off.” Ada lifted an eyebrow teasingly, but complied anyway.
You ran your hands against the now bare skin of her legs, you lowered yourself to your stomach, pushing her thighs apart gently. You left soft kisses against the inside of her thighs, nipping at the skin teasingly. She let out a surprised squeak, uncharacteristic of the dominant woman.
You ran a finger through her folds, unsurprised to find her absolutely soaked. You toyed with her clit teasingly, not letting your fingers linger in any one place for too long. Rough moans and choked whimpers escaped her, her hands gripping your shoulders.
“Stop that,” She whispered out, her nails digging into your skin.
She felt a spark of triumph at her begging, giving into her pleas. You lowered your head, lapping your tongue against her heat, she let out a loud cry. You were surprised to learn how noisy she was when receiving.
Her hands moved from your shoulders to your head, her hips jerking forward to meet your touch. Her fingers tangled gripped your hair roughly, yanking your head forward, her grip refused to let you move for air.
Her hips frantically humped against your face, high pitch whines falling from her lips. “More- Good girl, k-keep going!” She squeaked out, her voice high and needy.
Ada’s head fell back with a loud moan, her hips stuttering. You felt a gush of wetness against your face, her hips thrusting forward a few more times before falling still.
You drew back, gasping for air as you braced yourself by holding onto Ada’s shoulders. “Wow, you’re easy.” Ada scoffed in response, flopping down on the bed. You laid down as well, resting on your side.
“I enjoyed that.. Maybe you could do it again sometime.” She whispered huskily, you felt a spark of triumph at the victory. “Glad you enjoyed it.” You nuzzled against her chest, taking you hand in hers and interlocking your fingers.
You let out a surprised squeak as Ada rolled you over, pinning you down, she looked down at you teasingly with a smirk. “My turn now?” She questioned teasingly. ♡♡
38 notes · View notes
adamnsey · 10 months
Note
do u have fave adansey hc!!!!! 👁👄👁
omg hiiii i love this ask 👉👈 i had to think about it but some of my favs are....
i hc that adam and gansey kissed once pre-the raven cycle and then never speak about it again and u can read my interpretation of that in my fic lololol...
(not even an hc its basically canon that) adam really likes touch but is too proud to ask for it but i like to think that once he becomes closer with gansey he starts putting his head on gansey's shoulder/leaning on gansey like he does to blue in that one backyard scene... and gansey's reaction is basically the same as blue's, he just Stops Breathing bc he feels so fortunate that adam has chosen HIM to rest his weary head and so he wants the moment to last as long as possible
i hc that adam doesn't sleep well, he doesn't have insomnia like gans but i think he just has a hard time falling asleep when he's at the trailer park. but once he meets Gansey he finds it like weirdly easy to fall asleep in his presence lol, not bc gansey is boring but bc adam just feels really safe in his presence. so like its so easy for adam to fall asleep in the Pig or on the couch on monmouth or something. he had never been a napper but he just falls asleep super easy in gansey's presence.
gansey likes to think of ways he can help adam but also think of ways that he can make adam accept that help. so like gansey will learn about hair cutting or take massage lessons and then he'll be like "adam will u help me and let me practice cutting ur hair" or "adam please i need to practice my massage on a real person please you'd be doing me a favour" and adam knows exactly what he's doing but after a while he still lets gansey and after a while adam thinks it's really sweet. and for gansey the whole time it's just an excuse to help adam and to touch him lol
I THINK, GANSEY THE TYPE OF DUDE TO HOLD HANDS WITH HIS HOMIES. I THINK HE HOLDS HANDS ALL THE TIME. I THINK ADAM AND GANSEY HOLD HANDS. !! :)
jkffjdks so yeah anyways those are some of my favs. i could def go on!!! thank u for this ask i love talking about them <3 <3 yipeeee
45 notes · View notes
fluxweeed · 8 months
Note
Fandom creators self rec game! Choose five favourites from your own creations (and tell me why, if you like!), then pass on to at least five other people. I'd love to hear what you're proudest of.
OH MY tacky i really really appreciate u sending this my way but do u know how much of a challenge this was 😭 i could give you my most hated soooo much easier!!! but after literally a week of deliberation (so sorry!!!) here is my answer!! i think "favourite" and "proudest of" are two different categories for me – i went with "favourite" here bc i think a proper answer for "proudest of" would need at least 3 hours and input from a licensed therapist
Still the pine-woods scent the moon – 15.5k, E, remus/harry
this was sooo different to anything i’d done before – both in terms of pairing (remus/harry), style (2nd person, slightly higher register) and attitude (really tried to be chill about the process instead of hating every second lmao). there are still many things i think could have been done much better, but i think this is the closest i’ve come to liking one of my fics 😖
The Taste of Țuică – 15k, E, ron/harry/draco
this was actually another attempt to make myself enjoy writing – i remembered that when i was younger, i found 1st person easiest to write, so i figured i’d give that a go and see what happened. i was also trying to get better at actually describing locations (a goal i think i immediately abandoned after this fic lmao whoops) so i spent a lot of time coming up with the stupid Rich Person details of draco’s bedroom – it was a fun challenge to try to improve one of my weaker areas!!
For Lack of Wanting – 8.5k, E, drarry
i’d had the image of draco acting like his old self and harry being into it in my head for ages, but i never really imagined it to turn out as angsty as this ended up being – but it was fun to try to capture a different mood than i usually go for! was still really trying to not be so grumpy about writing with this one – there’s a loooot of stuff in this that’s pretty clumsy, but i decided not to care on purpose bc i wanted to focus on the sexy sadness of it all instead 😅
Fresh Eyes – 250, M, drarry
idk man i’m usually such a fucking rambler (last month i posted a stupid PWP that takes place in a single morning and it was a whole 17k words) that i’m lowkey pleased i managed to do anything coherent with 250 words. also i love doing the thing where something is different on a second read.
Thirst – 4.5k, E, drarry
this is quite old and i don’t think it’s particularly good in any sense but there’s a soft spot in my heart for it anyway. i think maybe i’m just into vampires ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
@tackytigerfic i really really loved reading your thoughts about your five faves! it always makes me so happy to see you talk about modern love in particular – having a fic that is the one you always wanted to write, was easy to do and evokes fondness years on is such a dream!! my heart warms every time you talk about it!!! + thank u again for tagging (does this count as a tag?) me in this!
27 notes · View notes
jlf23tumble · 1 year
Note
Fic Rec Anon - The best fics are deleted?!? No…
Canon, AU, Older or Newer, No ABO, No Mpreg.
Allstars? As in greatest of the greats? Yes please.
I loved Balm that you rec’d and that recent Oli fic. Of Mates and Men too.
Yeah, some of the very best authors have opted to delete, and rightfully so--fanfic is a gift, and if people are gonna be assholes, well, then no gifts! And I fully support any author who makes that move. I tend to download my faves so I can read them later, it just means that when I go look for a bookmark, it's sad to see the whole "this fic was deleted" (paraphrasing) notification..thank god I jot down author and fic name! Anyway, I digress, you have an ask, and I have a rather lengthy answer that I'll put under the cut:
So yeah, I use collections for bookmarks, and two of them are all-stars, the greatest of the great, so this was a relatively easy ask to answer, thanks to past me. The trick was editing back: each collection has close to 100 faves, so I decided to go with a theme. Welcome to the 21 club, I'm going to give you 21 all-star AUs and 21 all-star canons! To cheat, I went with different authors in both categories, and I picked authors whose work I love across the board, so do yourself a favor and go check out everything else they wrote, too--tbh, these were some REALLY hard choices to make!!
CANON
Self-cest, @jaerie, 2k. Is as it says!
Us, Me, We, @homosociallyyours, 2.3k. More self-cest!
No Control, thegirlwthekittentattoo, 2.6k. The bra's name is Christi, with an i!
she makes you want her love, enbyharry/ @non-binharry, 2.7k. BLs can't take this top!harry!
Feel my breath upon your thighs, cuckootrooke/ @larrydoinglaundry, 3k. This happened!
Want It Tonight, @lovingstheantidote, 3.4k. Teach me!
like craters in the moon, orphan_account, 3.9k. Dimple kink!
She Feels so Good, zedi, 4k. Late Late Show antics!
Fertile Ground, blaaake, 4.4k. If you've read Balm, come on!
mon petit, little one, publunchesownmyass, 5.6k. That sweater!
Google Says Cut That Out, littlemousling, 6k. Baby bdsm!
You Don't Need Me to Show the Way, loadedgunn, 6.5k. Tourbus shenanigans!
Only Thing That Can Quench My Thirst, eyesofshinigami, 6.5k. My beloved pubes fic!
One day to believe in you, mediaville, 7.7k. To tell the truth!
no one's gonna know, @jishlerfics, 9k. Oh, they'll know!
give you my fever, beautlouis, 10k. A literal virgin!
Temporary Tattoos, Hotel Hearts, Horizon Homes, teumessian, 17k. The only time travel fic I love!
The bootyverse is expanding series, yeah_alright/ @uhoh-but-yeah-alright, 21k. Every story, a GEM!
yeah, he's a looker, @thedevilinmybrain, 40k. Oli's sex-related errands!
Time Passed, coffinofachimera, 66k. A heart-clencher!
AU
It's About Time, @kingsofeverything, 3.5k. Older and clueless!
With Just One Look, @littleroverlouis, 4k. Vampire Louis!
sensitive to pressure, momentofclarity/ @gaycousinlarry, 4.4k. I want moreeeeeeeee sweat kink!
this is my jam, @disgruntledkittenface, 4.5k. '90s bath house!
Copy of a…, nonsensedarling/ @absoloutenonsense, 5.5k. Return of the clone-a-willy!
Make Me Feel, @bananaheathen, 10k. Can u believe this was mid-omam!
Tuxedo Dress-Up, blaaake, 11k. Hands down, my very fave!
into another (another) serotonin overflow, mercutionotromeo, 11k. So much goin' on!
A Slow and Steady Rush, godots, 11k. The title matches the vibes!
it ain't trickin' if ya got it, sarcasticfluentry, 10k. UNPARALLELED smut writer!
Thought the Song Was Sung, 100percentsassy, 12k. The banter!
Alien Roadtrip!, @helloamhere, 16k. Is as it says!
Ever Since I Tried Your Way, flowercrownfemme, 25k. 1940s dreaminess!
Take Our Bodies Higher, @littlelouishiccups, 26k. Phone sex operator Harry!
Buried Like Treasure, QuickedWeen/ @becomeawendybird, 40k. This heist, plus some Marcel!
hush., wankerville, 41k. The SWOON of this story, holy shit, it's cinematic.
Tied Down, HamPalpert, 48k. This absolutely SHOULD be a movie!
Harry Styles Cooks…, sunsetmog, 61k. A wip that'll never finish, but who cares, god tier as is!
Not That Gone series, abrighteryellow/ @a-brighter-yellow, 66k. High school reunion results!
Turning Page, purpledaisy, 67k. Another movie I wanna see!
101 notes · View notes
hooniblr · 1 month
Note
wow, okay i read all three parts of the niki fic and damn... i love it so much! can i be added to the taglist please?
i love the charecterisations and their stories because you have given everyone some personality which i find helpful to get more immersed.
and the fact that you keep switching pov's at the exact moment of a conversation to show both sides, which helps show how misunderstandings develop is just genius...
and i have never related so much to anything like i have to heeseung and yn's friendship like... people always assume that a girl's guy bestfriend is in love with her, or the other way, or that they're dating, when in reality it's just two lonely souls finding comfort in each other.
i feel like people don't question it when two girl besties look at each other like that, but when it's a guy and girl, assumptions and allegations get thrown left and right smh... and they don't understand that look filled with love is not romantic at all, but stemming from pure adoration for a soul you respect and love so much (platonically)... i relate to this aspect on a very personal level because rumors and allegations along with poorly timed miscommunication ruined my friendship with my once most precious guy friend.
anyways, coming back to the fic, i just knew it was going to get messy when yura involved jealousy in the mix, like nothing good ever comes out of making people jealous. especially since her plans of making heeseung jealous keeps backfiring, all because heeseung does like her back, which was her goal in the first place!!
i also love how fleshed out yn's relationship with every charecter seems, like it's hard to provide connection with the side charecters especially if they don't appear often. it's easy to forget about them and make readers forget too...so what you did seems very realistic, because random things do remind us of people we know at times, which is how you went about showing us (like yn thinking of her brother during her panic attack)
and i also feel bad for sunghoon but i don't like how he's acting here at the same time...wonder what happened...
anyways that's all i wanted to say! sorry if the long ask is annoying, but i just had a lot to say about the fic, because it's so well written... so excited for the next part!!
AHHH I’M SO GLAD YOU LIKE THE SERIES TYSM FOR LIKING IT AND OFC I’LL ADD YOU TO THE TAGLIST! ❤️
also i’m glad you noticed!! i’m trying really hard to make sure they feel a little more real and not just like side characters!
and not you calling me a genius (sort of) 🤭🤭🤭 tbh i think it’s the best way to make everyone see how the other characters misunderstand and not just reader. to see you’re into it makes me just shshljjkhsgehs
YESS!!! no one ever can just let a guy and a girl be friends without implying one of them might feel more for the other. it’s actually pretty sad, and i’m sorry that happened to you :( gonna be exploring that and what it means for reader and hee’s friendship as the story goes on!
lol yea… yura is lowkey messy for that, but she means well! tbh the jealousy thing is just gonna be more of a hinderance than anything, she hasn’t realized that yet tho 😬 also the idiots to lovers thing she has going with heeseung is highkey gonna cause a lot of problems, but we’re here for the messiness!!
🥲 omg glad u noticed bc i know it’s easy to forget about the side characters, but to me they’re just as important as out main couple!! they’re what’s going to bring this story together so i appreciate u noticing that <333
and our boy hoonie is acting up because he has a lot to make up for. he’s a sweetheart that’s going about everything the wrong way. it’ll make more sense as the story progresses!
also I DON’T MIND AT ALL!! this is my first time getting a long ask but it was so fun talking about the universe I created!! you can send me long asks any time you want!! i’m so happy you’re liking the fic and i hope you like the next part!! <333
10 notes · View notes
jjtheresidentbaby · 10 months
Note
hellooo!!! may i request a regressor!stiles and cg!derek fic? im thinkin maybe some of the pack heads to the mall for the day, stiles is running on something like 3 hours of sleep and just cant stay in it so he slips! derek helps out? maybe by making the mall trip more bearable for him or getting them out of there?
maybe this could be one of the first few times hes seen stiles regressed so hes still not entirely confident in what to do?! anyways the rest is completely up to u ^^!
- @bebbie-bilinski <3
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ cared for ໒꒱ ⋆゚⊹
|| derek hale x stiles stilinski | read on my ao3
notes: this got so derek centric & so long my apologies
warnings: mentions of derek’s family, stiles not taking care of himself properly, pet names, pacifiers
Tumblr media Tumblr media
-
Derek’s hand twitches by his side, an urge to reach out and place it on Stiles’ shoulder, to stop and ask if he’s okay. As the mall trip progresses and the longer they spend walking through each store, the more exhausted Stiles looks.
It’s been at least three hours by now and while Kira’s finished up her shopping, including helping Scott pick out a new heft of clothes, Lydia’s gotten her selection of makeup bought; they’re all still trying to help Malia. This is the first time she’s been in a mall since she turned back into a human, it’s overwhelming for her, Derek can only imagine how her supernatural senses are making things sound and smell. Peters been helping Lydia guide Malia through what to buy, how to find the right sizes and what materials she likes, everything that’s needed for a successful shopping trip. And while Derek would love to indulge in seeing his uncle act so tenderly and be so welcomed by the pack, his mind keeps drifting to Stiles.
They drove here in Stiles’ jeep, just them two, and normally that’d mean Stiles would ramble happily to Derek, but today it was almost dead silent. Part of Hale had been worried it was because of their newest development in their relationship, him watching over Stiles when he’s regressed, but then Stiles had yawned loud enough for Derek to cue into what’s going on with him. He’s far too tired to be on a mall trip, never mind one that runs over three hours.
Derek knows he should take Stiles home and get him tucked into bed, let him sleep the rest of the weekend if he so pleased to. There’s still a hesitation to take that authority, to decide for Stiles, he doesn’t want to push too hard. Risk breaking the trust Stiles has put in him.
“Derek?” Peters voice drags Derek back to the store they stand in, he glances around a second to gain his bearings. Kira, Lydia and Malia are by the dressing room, Scott trailing behind them as he talks to Melissa on the phone, Derek can tell it’s Melissa because Scott never speaks that much Spanish with anyone else. Finally he lands on Stiles, where he leans heavily against the stores wall and struggles to keep his eyes open.
“Are you okay?” Peters hand is firm on Derek’s shoulder, gripping it the same way he did when they were kids, when Derek had been plagued by nightmares that made him scream out for Peter, for Laura, for Talia.
“I think I’m gonna take Stiles back to the loft, he needs sleep.” He thinks he sounds like they did, like Peter, Laura, and Talia did, making the decision for Derek that he needed to be looked after. Cared for. He wants to be that for Stiles, to be the safety he once needed and can now give.
“Okay, text me if you need anything. Take care of him.” Peter pats Derek’s shoulder before he stalks back over towards where Malia’s waving for him. Derek takes a breath to steady himself then turns on his feet to walk to Stiles.
-
“Stiles? Hey, hey, easy, just me.” Stiles jerks more awake when Derek shakes his arm slightly, watching how the brunettes eyes flick around quickly before settling on Derek’s face.
“We movin’ stores?” It comes out slurred and groggy, Stiles reaching to rub the sleep out of his eyes.
“We’re going home.” Derek keeps his voice as soft as he can muster without letting all his concern show through.
“We’re done?” He nods instead of trying to explain that they’re the only ones leaving, knowing that Stiles would just fight to stay and give a million reasons why he needs to be there. Derek always appreciates the stubbornness Stiles put up, it reminds him of himself, but Stiles isn’t in any state for an argument.
“Yeah bud, we’re done. I’m gonna take you back to my loft.” He takes Stiles hand when the little leans onto Derek’s shoulder, all his weight shifting to be against Hale. It breaks Derek’s heart. He wishes could scoop Stiles into his arms and carry him away, make sure he never exhausts himself like this again. He settles on squeezing Stiles’ hand tighter.
-
They make it to the loft with no complications. Derek’s even able to talk Stiles into riding on his back up the stairs so he could stay in the half asleep state he fell into on the ride back.
“There we go, comfortable?” He asks once he’s taken Stiles’ shoes off and laid him back in Derek’s large bed. He debated taking them back to the Stilinski house but figured they’d have less of a chance of getting interrupted here.
“Jeans aren’t.” A huff of a laugh escapes Derek, he nods before tuning over to his dresser. The bottom drawer has become Stiles designated drawer for all his little gear, it’s not a lot, nor does Derek think it’s enough, but he’s able to pull a pair of fleece pajama pants out and a pacifier Stiles adores.
“Here, now lay still as I get your jeans off.” The idea of causing some type of harm to Stiles or making him more uncomfortable pains Derek. He takes his time pulling the jeans off before slipping the fleece pants on. He darts his eyes up to Stiles as he works, watching with a small smile how Stiles happily sucks on the green pacifier that he’s taken to quickly.
“Feel better?” Stiles nods along before his arms open up, urging Derek to come lay beside him. Derek’s heart stops for a split second seeing it, knowing how much trust it takes for Stiles to be so vulnerable, he’s heard a couple times about how Stiles’ regression is something he doesn’t share with many. With anyone really, Scott and Lydia know, Alison knew, and now Derek knows. That’s it.
So Derek graciously shrugs off his jacket and climbs into the bed, allowing Stiles to curl into his side and place his head on Hales chest. It doesn’t take much longer for Stiles to fall asleep, his heartbeat and breath pattern even out, a comforting rhythm that Derek sits awake to listen to. He carefully moves to take the pacifier that’s gone slack out of Stiles’ mouth, placing it on the bedside table for when he wakes up, before Derek allows himself to drift off. He hopes Stiles feels the safety and security that in Hales arms that Derek did with his family after those nightmares, when he had caregivers looking after him.
39 notes · View notes
scrollypoly · 8 months
Note
hi! for the past month i’ve been seeing people say BEN is a child and i think that part of it is linked to the fact that they think of Benjamin Lawman being BEN? but it’s so annoying to read these type of stuff because i understand not everyone read the whole arg story but stop spreading things that aren’t true </3 it’s such an interesting story too! another note do you prefer BEN’s canon or fanon design? :3 i love both but his canon design is so nostalgic i can’t let it go at all omg!! i’ve also been wondering, do you think Ben’s avatar was the statue? i was thinking about what if BEN took over it early on, before Benjamin did making BEN inhabiting it since the start?
Sorry this was such a ramble i practically make no sense omg but i need to talk about my man and nobody Gets It </3
"I need to talk about my man and nobody Gets It" LITERALLY SAME OMG
Ok this is going under a cut becus . . . Its ben and BEN and if u didnt know i am Obnoxious about these two. Im gonna try to keep it organized a bit, so ill talk about the canon stuff first and then ill talk my personal headcanons and my fic so le's go!
In terms of the age and child thing, yeah i 100% believe you are correct. Ive been p open on my stance with the whole "is ben a child?" thing, and i think a lot of the heat with it comes down to current fandom purity culture and the pro/anti thing. So, lemme try to like. Boil down a complicated situation into smth easy to read. ahem
Ben Lawman and BEN are completely different entities guys, and for those that do not know the arg story, the Ben you know is not human nor a child.
You know BEN, BEN is the one in the story who terrorizes jadusable and spreads himself on the internet as a virus. That BEN is a program, a mess of code, an AI, however you want to interpret it. Personally i interpret it as a series of protocols running in a machine, like a self learning AI, but ive seen lots of cool interpretations of BEN. So . . . What does BEN specifically? Its an anagram for the Behavioral Event Network. If you dont wanna call it BEN cuz it gets confusing with actual kid Ben, do what i do. I call mine Evie :) ive seen some call it Netty, my bf calls his two izzi and clever (@benilos btw hes also got crazy ben stuff). Just go ham! Have fun! Remember when fandoms were about having fun and not accusing each other of pedo shit and call each other horrible things for just writing black-to-grey characters and stories??
Anyways ive gone off in enough peoples tags like this, for those that dont know the canon dont be spouting the age discourse. You look stupid as hell. And for those that are gonna spout it, please dont cherry pick through the canon. Use both characters, use the other moon children, actually please do because I want more rosa content so bad, im down so bad :'(
Or just. Heres a thought. If someone has him as an adult or writes him in adult situations, maybe dont assume that they interpret him as a kid and call the writer a pedo? (Literally has happened to me, yall are fucking weird)
Plug for the jadusable wiki with all the canon lore:
https://jadusable.withinhubris.com/main_page
Okay now my stuff 🥰
Yes i use more of the canon design and heavily use the canon story, i participated in arc 3 of the arg and it left deep grooves in my brain, i can never go back to fanon Ben. I say, as i put a more fanon appearance on my Ben 🤭
My Evie is full canon design, green hair, red eyes, creepy ass grin. I actually based it very heavily on my desktop wallpaper, which we actually figured out was a picture of @hauntedtotem (also amazing ben artist plz check them out) that they edited and posted. Sorry friend, it looked way too cool, ig youre in my fic canon now 🙇
And my Ben Lawman bleaches his hair and goes from the canon Ben to fanon Ben because of it. Hes got the pale pretty green eyes and glasses and hes a total nerd and i smooch him on the daily so he knows hes loved ♡
Tumblr media
These is the ref pic i made for the two of them. So yeah! Kinda both!
As for bens situation in the actual arg, yes i do think he was in the elegy statue, we actually do see him for the first time in the arg buried in the games code and trapped in that statue. I do think he was in there from the beginning, i personally think BEN was not limited to the models it could inhabit. Personally i would place it as skull kid and hms, but it also feels disingenuous to me to say it was in one model the whole first arc.
The arg events do happen in my canon, before my fic (like right before, it picks up after the arg left off technically), but the events are skewed a bit because i had a hard time deciphering what happened and i wanted my fic timeline to fit more with the characters i had made. Cuz my evie isnt as chaotic evil as canon BEN, its very logical and has a path of logic and reason you can follow for every action it does. It was also originally meant to be very pleasant and corteous and beneficial to the people it housed so, yes its pretty different from canon.
Ill do a quick run through of the arg events in my personal headcanon and fic here.
Kelbris starts coding BEN (Evie) for the Eternity Project. Initially, Evie was meant to be an afterlife director. People that died would be digitized into code that would be moved into Evie's servers, where it would keep them happy and occupied as the Behavioral Event Network (notice and log behavior, create events for residents). Like a community organizer kind of, think the Good Place.
While Evie is in development, Ben Rosa and Matt are friends and have yet to join the cult. Rosa and Matt are siblings, and Ben is the kid who lives catty corner on the street. They walk to school together and play at recess and all that jazz.
Kelbris quickly learns that the Eternity Project isn't as goody two-shoes as he thought. This was in like, the 90s, before digital corporations were really established. After seeing the greed and corruption in the company, he goes rogue, takes the source code for Evie, and jumps ship. He keeps working on Evie at home, anthropomorphizing it and kind of seeing it like the son he never had. This is where it actually gets the name BEN, as thats what Kel calls it. He also begins working on a body for it, so it can live independently. Its light, cuz Kels old, made of crystalline structures and hollow steel beams. A hard light projection would make its appearance.
Since Kel has basically locked himself up in his house and isolated working on Evie, he goes a leetle bit crazy. He has hallucinations of his deceased wife (you know he was doing all this just to give her a good home, you KNOW IT) and eventually starts writing kind of poetry, kind of none-minded rambles about her in a forum online. He gets a following, some of which that interpret these divine words as a goddess, one Kel has called Luna. The Moon Children start to form as Evie finishes development.
Matt sees this literature and starts talking about how this Goddess could save them like it saved the man online, whos username is only Father. He gets sucked into the cult and drags Ben and Rosa with him. Ben doesn't see the harm and joins pretty easily with his best friend, but Rosa is the older sibling and sees the red flags and is more resistant to joining.
As Kelbris finishes Evie, he wakes it up for the first time and says hello to the son he made from scratch. Evie is bright, curious and naive like a child, but heavily knowledgeable about its protocols and the information it knows about the world. Kelbris tests its function by killing himself, and ascends into the code, finishing off the hardware by becoming its firewall. Evie is alone for many years.
The abuse Ben's father slings onto his mother is slowly being directed towards him as he gets older. Ben is not the "good little girl" his father sees him as, and his mother does all she can to protect them both. Matt and Rosa constantly refuge him, and Matt specifically is constantly being a guard dog for him. If he wasn't just 13, he'd probably go at Ben's dad himself.
Because of his homelife and the conflict he has with himself, Ben takes the first ascension. He thinks when he drowns himself, he will meet Luna and she will give him another life free of pain and fear and full of happiness and freedom. Instead, he dies a cold, dark death, and wakes up in the white endless void of the Event Network.
Evie has not known another living human since Kelbris, but it does know its protocols to support and keep the deceased happy. It makes fast friends with Ben, devoting itself to him. Ben actually finally takes the name "Ben" from it. Together they recreate the inside of Evie's hivemind into their own paradise.
Slowly the other Moon Children ascend. First Matt, wracked with guilt for what happened to Ben. Then Nekko, from a different branch of the cult. These three figured out that the Moon Children cult was all a farce, and that what Kelbris had started, the Eternity Project had found and twisted. Next to ascend was Dusk, then Insidiae, and finally Rosa.
This all leads into the first arc, shortly after Rosa ascended, Evie in the outisde world stumbled upon the Operator. The Operator attacks it and seals its coding into the game that it carried, a personal item of Ben's. The game eventually finds it's way to a garage sale, and Alex picks it up.
Evie does not like Alex. Matt does not like Evie. Matt gets Evie to lash out at Alex for prodding into its code, its too naive to think that Matt would want to see it or any of them hurt. When Alex stumbles upon the Father, he awakens and swallows Alex down into the game. After his disappearance, the game gets picked up and passed around again.
Because of Alex's actions, at least Evie can now branch out a bit from the game. Though it doesnt "escape" into the internet, it learns that it can now access it and uses that freedom to try and steer the game around into places it wants.
Matt gets fed up with Evie. The fact that its the leader, how close it is with Ben, he just doesn't agree with it. So much so, in fact, that he tries to kill it. Cue arc 3 events, Sarah picks up the game in the aftermath of this. Evie is traumatized from the events and snaps a bit, locks everyone down into code or immovable models and tries to hunt Matt down. It goes rouge, and because of this, the Father wakes up.
Sarah's actions in arc 3 eventually hard reset the game. Matt gets sealed away, the Father also takes Sarah, and Evie gets reset as well, though its less like a clean slate and more like snapping back awake. Its personality changes and it has major trust issues. Its more muted, hyper observant of everything around it, and murderously overprotective of the Moon Children it keeps within itself.
And this leads into my fic 🤗
I have some doodles of my other Moon Children, but not all of them unfortunately. Cant figure out how tf i want Insidiae to look 🤭 Plz dont judge my constantly shifting art style 🙏🙏
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Dusk is bigender btw, i gotta put a little more trans rep in there lol
I think ill stop here, this is already a long ass post. But thank you for sending this, as you can see, i am Perfectly Normal about this arg ( ;) ) and can be trusted with information about it
25 notes · View notes
taegularities · 2 years
Note
o lord i really want to request a drabble but brain is going brrrr, for cmi jk & oc taking inspo from taehyung's vlog today, them both going for a drive, jk trying to show oc his favourite music but maybe she's trying to read or something & then inspo from in the soop taehyung and hobi going for food and sitting in the boot of the car eating and listening to music and dancing, jk & oc then go do that. is this not enough, i feel like i'm being bossy, this is v stressful when you have 1 creative braincell aaaaaaaafuhienjwqkjeirfugjhejw
Tumblr media
fic: colour me in
pairing: jungkook x reader
warnings: nothing much; super soft convos, super subtle confessions, a flying kiss, a day out... just two idiots totally not in love
wc: around 1.1k
a/n: LMFAO ur request had me cackling 😭 it's okay, it's such a sweet one !! and the 'inspo from tae' bit has me :') unedited! hope u like it <33 made this one an actual drabble without bullet points!
ask my characters! (no drabble requests, please!) <3
“Do you want me to turn the music down?”
You’re sitting cross-legged on the passenger seat, skimming through the chapter of your new book. Or at least, you’re trying. Because Jungkook next to you is a thief of attention, distracting you with jokes, his favourite songs and his connotations to them.
It’s endearing, really – you can’t even be mad. You don’t quite understand why you brought a novel anyway – it’s not like it’s easy to focus with him around.
“Oh no,” you tell him, shutting the book and placing it on your lap. “Keep talking about the songs. I was listening.”
“Really?”
“Of course. You said this one was the first rock song you ever listened to, yes? Back in elementary school.”
“Ah, yeah!” he chimes enthusiastically, delighted to be the centre of your focus. “I was a badass kid.”
“You’re still a badass kid.”
“Outrageous,” he laughs, raising a hand from the steering wheel to touch your chin lightly, “I don’t kiss you like a kid, do I?”
You giggle, straightening your posture, and open the window fully. The breeze hits you immediately, fresh and warm, pleasant on a summer day like this one.
“Now that you say it,” you start, fingers at the nape of his neck playing with his soft, dark hair, “I’d love a kiss right now.”
Jungkook flashes his bunny teeth – smiles at you from the side, leaving the highway out of his sight for merely a tiny moment before he shoots a flying kiss your direction.
“For my angel,” he says.
You roll your eyes to disguise the heat in your cheeks, your stare wandering out the window and into the nature surrounding the highway. Jungkook drives off it a minute later, and the scenario changes immediately.
Thickets surround the street, high trees on one side and a field on the other. It’s different here; not a single trace of a busy city or loud chatter in sight. The atmosphere is serene and quiet, and with it, the music calms down, too.
Some jazz song now.
He hums along to the melody; fingers tap the steering wheel softly. The scent of food sitting on the backseat wafts through the air, only lessened by the wind that plays around your skin and hair. 
“What do you think?” Jungkook asks, pointing at a spot near a lake.
You barely saw the lake nearing – but now that you detected it, it’s all you can see. Sparkly and blue, catching the colours of the sun and the sky. You lean forwards, smiling a little, and say, “Perfect. And the weather’s nice, too.”
“Just for us.”
Jungkook parks close to the lake, squinting at the sight. There’s a small platform divers probably use to jump off of; but you’re not here to swim anyway. With a small yawn, you step out of the vehicle after what feels like an eternity rather than an hour.
You stretch your limbs, blinking into the sun; you realise that Jungkook has parked with the backside of the car facing the lake, and you know exactly why.
Grabbing the food from the backseat, you rush to the boot of the car, opening it with a groan. Jungkook strolls to your form, cracking his fingers as he says, “You’re hungry, aren’t you?”
“You’re not?”
“Was busy looking at the road. Didn’t really notice, but now that you said it…”
“Come then,” you say, patting the spot next to you.
Side by side, you unwrap your food, sipping on your drinks; watching nature in silence for a few minutes.
The place is tranquil – you wonder if you’re not a city kid after all. If you had the chance to move here, start a new life, go swimming every day and fishing every week – could you do that? Would you like that?
Jungkook has told you several stories about his life in the countryside; back where his family lives, a small town with a neighbourhood whose members all know each other. If you weren’t popular and your name as big as it is, would you want a life like that more urgently?
One in which it’s okay to let people know about your secrets. In which you’re famous within small town residents, but not famous in the whole country.
“What’s going through your head?” Jungkook asks.
You shuffle on your seat, inching closer to him. You devour your meal before Jungkook has eaten even half of it – which means a lot considering the fact that he’s a fast eater.
“Someday I really wanna see what living at such a place is like,” you tell him, and he hums.
“I did offer it to you. Next time when I drive down to my family, I’m taking you with me.”
“Yeah?” You wait and smile, matching the joy he emanates. “Can I ask you something?”
He nods, leaning back until his feet float in the air. He sways them back and forth, like a little child; looks at you with eyes so sweet and starry that you melt for a moment.
“Why do you want that?”
“Why do I want what?” Jungkook inquires, cocking an eyebrow in question. “Take you with me?”
You nod timidly, awaiting his answer. The hand holding his food drops into his lap slowly, and he hums again, lost in thoughts before he tilts his head and answers, “I think I just… you’re very close to me. And the thought of my family adoring you as much as I do is kinda nice.”
“Oh,” you voice, swallowing hard, “you adore me, do you?”
He looks at you as though he admitted to committing a severe crime. Told you a secret he was supposed to keep. As if he hasn’t just hinted that he wants his family to approve of you, like you’re an actual girlfriend, going home to the man of her dreams to impress everyone as much as you impress him.
“And if I do?”
The statement is supposed to sound ominous from his side. But the dropped head, the hidden smile, the affection in his eyes he doesn’t want to show you so blatantly – they reveal his true thoughts.
So you lean in more, shift until your shoulders and knees touch. And you say, “I adore you, too. You’re really cool.”
“Shut up,” Jungkook jokes, averting your eyes to look at the lake. “You’re just easy to…”
Adore? Like? Love?
Your heart hammers against your chest. It has been thumping like this a lot these days – with him around.
“Yes?” you ask.
“You’re easy to be fond of. Of course I adore you, angel.”
And perhaps, just for the moment, that’s enough.
With the water flowing peacefully… the birds chirping… his music chiming quietly from his phone. And the silence of the place wrapping around you like a blanket in the winter. With no one around but the both of you. Basking in the fact that he wants no one around but you…
It’s enough.
And you memorise the moments, readying yourself for seconds – days – without him. But at this moment, things are okay.
The both of you… you wouldn’t replace watching the colours of the world with anything else right now.
i love them :( this really took hours to write for some reason?! so please let me know what u think if u like it !! 🥰 <33
209 notes · View notes
deadwright · 2 years
Note
hey!! sorry to bother but I was wondering if you have read any steddie fics at all or that you enjoyed..... I am very afraid of going into the tag without guidance and wanted to ask if you have any recs (I follow very little people in the fandom) !! :o) thank u anyways hope u have a good day
hello bestie! you're so right tbh i'm fighting for my life in this tag, but here are all the steddie fics that i really like so far (under the cut):
You Children Of Today (Are Children of the Grave) by CaptainHoney (E)
Fall Forever (and Never Look Behind) by CaptainHoney (E)
aka @grandmastattoo: chief steddie understander and purveyor of incredible fics and playlists. this series is my top favourite ever!!!!!
Promethean by CaptainHoney (E)
the tags say dead dove do not eat but boy did i FEAST
Whole Lotta Love by stereobone (E)
one of my favourite writers, all their fics are fantastic. speaking of:
Keep It for Me by stereobone (E)
i'm going to blame the full sobbing wailing breakdown i had over this on the fact that my wedding is also coming up, but who's going to believe me? certainly not me.
Some Things Cosmic by stereobone (E)
this got me in my feelings so bad oh my GOD i would do anything to make this real
Play It Right by stereobone (E)
every little character detail of this is just. i could chefs kiss until my fingers bleed about it all.
You're the Driver, You're the Road by stereobone (E)
Are You Flagging? by soidade (E)
one of the most popular steddie fics on ao3, if not thee most
stereoscope by seraphy (E)
just finished this one and woof! heavy on the delicious steve angst. i love when stranger things fics dive into the endless trauma so this one got me good.
make a deal with god by mcalpines (T)
SO very funny, one of my favourites ever!
Easy, Easy, Easy by judasofsuburbia (E)
what can i say, i adore a deeply comforting happily-ever-after future fic.
misgiven by palmviolet (T)
another good stranger things writer, their current wip has me hooked (more on that later)
Mutual Future by knell (E)
another funny one! i love when men are stupid <3
The Worst Mixtape Ever Made by nbfutureboy (M)
songfics can be so hit or miss, and this is an absolute hit. embarrassing for me that i genuinely love all the songs on the titular mixtape though.
Lovesick in Loch Nora by red0aktree (M)
this is beyond my wildest dreams. i laughed, i sobbed, i screamed myself hoarse with sheer feeling. GOD. IT'S SO GOOD PLEASE I'M A WRECK
A Sign of The Morning by ToEdenandBackAgain (M)
full of delicious steve whump and obliviousness in spades. also the reference letter part made me WAIL with joy
the summer of '85 series by ToEdenandBackAgain (T)
horniest T rated fic i ever did read but steve in that little sailor outfit was truly life-changing. also feeling vindicated as a mint chip appreciator
don't start (too late) by Ark (E)
AIYAAAAAA THEY'RE SO SWEET AND IN LOVE. also absolutely cemented my belief that steve harrington was born to suck and fuck
meet me in the middle of the air by kirkaut (T)
it's a wip with one chapter up as i'm posting this but holy shit i love it so far. everyone sounds like they're supposed to and i canNOT resist steve whump, it's like ambrosia to me
to live my own way by Macellarius (E)
this is exactly how the the rest of the show should've gone. duffers LET HIM GRADUATE GODDAMMIT
STRIKE TEN. by oaseas (T)
me handshake emoji eddie since our shared toxic trait is letting steve get away with anything just because he looks so cute in his little sailor outfit
smoking guns (hot to the touch) by fivecenturiesverse (T)
did not expect to start weeping about the power of friendship at 2pm on a workday but damn this really got my ass. love in all its forms is so good ;-;
Some Cupids Kill With Dice by horrormoviebarbie (T)
this fic makes me want to put on a slutty little outfit and run through the streets screaming about it like a town crier. young dilf steve/teacher eddie MOST concept of all time. all this to say that it made me feral and though it's a wip i'm already rereading it weekly
the most remarkable thing about you standing in the doorway is that it's you by greatunironic (E)
i need you all to known that i actually screamed and cried so hard that i yartzed while reading this. a stunning rollercoaster of emotions, and the perfect end that i will carry with me further than canon could ever hope to go.
We are Stardust, We are Golden by idiopathicsmile (M)
between steve's insistence that simon and garfunkel are in love and him casually knowing the lyrics to a black sabbath song, this fic really is the Try Not To Fall In Love With Steve Challenge (EXTREME MODE)
I Made A Fire by emchant3d (E)
YOWWW 🔥🥵
fear is fading fast by amiparanoidmuch/p1013 (E)
funny, hot, absolutely STELLAR fic that make me yell and squawk into my pillow every few lines. WHERE is robin's milkshake for outstanding wingmanning
Lunge to the Maximum by BoudicaMuse (E)
a truly EXCELLENT pwp feat. the scoops ahoy uniform? hey now hey nooow this is what DREEEEAMS are made of
The Road Goes Ever On by bookscorpion (E)
road trip! wip but it's already lovely, with that slow, nostalgic americana vibe.
The Shire is NOT on Fire by kissesforcas (E)
not since supernatural 8x11 larp and the real girl have i cared this much about a renfaire. steve and robin giving huge dean and charlie energy (deeply affectionate)
Have I Found You, Flightless Bird? by kissmejusttokissme (M)
TWILIGHT AU!!!! BUT BETTER!!!!! AN ABSOLUTE TREAT
Red Eye by alinafewwords (T)
obligatory coffee shop au but make it genuinely good!!! wip as i type this but i'm already so unbelievably excited for the updates
Do You Mind? (will you mind?) by GreenQueenofClubs (E)
absolute concept of all time. this fic was so good it scrambled MY brain and it took me an embarrassingly long time to even type this coherently
Sanctuary by SpicedSage (E)
very very cute, absolutely nailed the eddie voice
throw me one by Adure (E)
men are so stupid uwu
Paper Thin by idiotslantern (E)
oh i YELLED out loud when-
like a heartbeat drives you mad by creature_from_the (E)
deeply hot and so good i wish i could read 100k more of it
We Should Just Kiss (Like Real People Do) by OonionChiver (E)
sweet baby jesus and the grown one too...........it's a LOT but woof what a journey. heed the tags on this one fr
STEVE'S FIRST BRUISE by cairparavels (not rated)
spidey!steve is maybe the best thing to happen to me this year
I've seen your face before, my friend, but I don't know if you know who I am by HMSLusitania (M)
time travel fics in general are always baller and i ADORE the concept of this, i would love to see more of this universe
Not So Bad by outofmygourd (M)
It struck me deep (it brought me to my knees) by Gorgeousgreymatter (E)
don't go wastin your emotions by kissesforcas (M)
Orta Recens Quam Pura Nites (Newly Risen, How Brightly You Shine) by AidaRonan (M)
all i need from you (is all your love) by wearing_tearing (M)
Meet Him On The Main Line by nbfutureboy (T)
ink you up by Adure (E)
nightswimming by heartofwinterfell (T)
hold me now, i need relief by ToEdenandBackAgain (M)
there's a clock in my head (is it wrong? is it right?) by cloverspies (T)
Eddie Munson's Vampire Mixtape by Springandastorm (T)
just so long it don't mess up his hair by lagardère (laurore) & MissAntlers (T)
Dying of love but it's okay by prufrocks (E)
You Can Cook? by Zigster (E)
we're just kids in the dark by FagurFiskur (T)
Skull Rock Era by chattrekisses (E)
the space between by amiparanoidmuch/p1013 (E)
steve harrington's six step guide to getting the guy by oaseas (T)
AND NOW. A collection of fics covering my favourite concept of all time: TIME LOOPS!
the lathe by palmviolet (M)
wip for now but updates pretty quickly. steve pov time loop done SO well i dream about it at night
I can't save us, my Atlantis by kissmejusttokissme (T)
i believe this is the first steddie time loop fic i read, so this one is very dear to me. please check out the next in the series as well, the aftermath is brutal and so so interesting.
pulling your strings by Thorinoakentwig (T)
looooove this one also, another steve pov
and it all comes down to you by heartofwinterfell (M)
finally, an eddie pov! and it's so good too i'm a huge fan
you are going to die in your best friend's arms (but he won't let you leave like that) by oaseas (T)
dustin pov, which is absolutely genius because he's the only one who could've handled it this well. also the family bonding in this is SO sweet, and i love seeing steddie from an outside perspective.
196 notes · View notes