#again so good to see u!!!!!!! hope you have great days and weeks and rest get wealthy get rich get big money ect

[ilwonuu]

saw ur posts and i really hope you're feeling okay now! if you feel like writing i wanna ask for some reqs where in the established relationship reader realized just how much jungwoo loves her bcs she's on her periode week and jw is taking care of her nicely without hesitating even adjusting his works and providing his help to accomplish reader's workload. thank you so much i really hope you're doing good and having a happy days ahead <3

thank you so much same for you:( i love this idea bc im always soft for jungwoo<3 thank you for requesting i hope you enjoy hehe,,,

honey

*๑♡՞ kim jungwoo

ᖗ pairing- established relationship, idolbf!jungwoo x fem!reader

ᖗ warnings- fluffy fluff , mentions of period pain/cramps, reader is not feeling great thru most of this, jungwoo is a sweetheart <3, he loves reader sm bye,,,,lmk if i missed something

ᖗ a/n- hi mls!!! i missed posting and i haven’t written for jungwoo in a while and i think he might be one of my biases,,,anyways i hope u guys enjoy<3 not proofread 😪

you have been rotting in your bed for hours. you asked your boyfriend to bring you some extra feminine products just incase. he was quick to respond to your text. he sent you a text saying he would be home soon with everything you need. you sighed in relief feeling so thankful for him. you cuddle up into your blankets as you wait for your boyfriend.

you watch whatever dumb dating show you had on earlier. your pain on the first day differs but this time is was painful as hell. you took some ibuprofen but it hasn’t started working yet leaving you to suffer. you hear the front door open making you smile to yourself. you see your boyfriend with a bag from the store.

“i asked you for a couple things- baby you didn’t have to get all this.” you sit up to face him as he brings the bag over to your side of the bed. “i know you did. i wanted to get your favorite snacks and some more stuff just to make sure you have it. i’m sorry you don’t feel good sweetheart.” he sits on the bed next to you. he pulls you into a gentle hug as he rubs your back.

“how was your day other than that? did you rest mostly?” he massages your back looking at you for your response. “it was good. i was missing you all day. i was just watching tv and cleaning a little but i gave up on the cleaning very fast.” you smile at him as he smiles back. “yea? i was missing you too. don’t worry about the cleaning i will take care of it all.” he rubs your cheek softly as you lay against his chest.

“how did you come home so early? i thought you had long schedules today?” the two of you move to lay down under the covers together. he pulls you close as he faces you. “yea i had meetings mostly but we got done like right before you texted me so i was quick to get you things.” his hand is resting against your hip as he gently massages your side. “you’re gonna put me to sleep baby.” you laugh as you close your eyes.

“come here.” he says pulling you to kiss him. you kiss him back quickly melting into the kiss. he holds your side gently as he kisses you softly. “i really missed you.” you pout looking at him. “i really missed you too, honey. you were all i was thinking about during my meetings.” he smiled at you again. he leans down to plant a kiss on your forehead.

“i love you.” you sigh at the cramps you feel. “rest honey. see if you can nap? i love you more.” he looks at you with a soft expression as he helps you get comfortable. he rubs your back softly until you fall asleep next to him. he just smiles as he watches you sleep peacefully.

jungwoo woke up early that next morning to make sure you had enough food. he made you your favorite breakfast when he saw that you were slowly stirring awake. you watched him bring in your breakfast as you fully wake up. your cramps already kicking you in the ass in the first few seconds of you being awake. you sigh at the feeling but smile at your boyfriend.

“you ok sweetheart?” he sets the food down on the side table as he climbs back into bed. you kiss his lips quickly as you climb out of bed to go to the bathroom. “i’m fine! don’t you worry.” you smile back at him as you quickly use the bathroom. you come to your bedroom feeling a little bit better as you crawl next to your boyfriend. “you didn’t have to make this for me. thank you- wait what time is it don’t you have dance practice today?” you ask as you start eating the breakfast he prepared for you.

“oh yea! i do i just told them i had my girl to spend time with. we pushed it to this afternoon so i can stay with you a little longer. then i can bring home dinner for us!” he smiles at you softly. “how are you feeling though? need medicine, water, anything you need i will get it.” he smiles to himself as he feels the need to help you without thinking about it for a second.

“i’m feeling okay today- my cramps are killing already but i think i just need to finish eating this and it’ll help. thank you baby.” you smile back at him as you continue to eat. “ok. let me know if that changes. as for now i’m here to give you love.” he kisses your head as rubs your thigh softly. you finish your breakfast after a bit with a smile. you look over at your boyfriend to see him already looking at you. you start to tear up as your thoughts start to clutter your head.

“baby? what’s wrong?” his expression is a more serious one as he pulls you closer to him. “n-nothing- i just- you’re being so nice to me. i feel so shitty and here you are making me feel so much better- cooking me breakfast? jungwoo you are too much.” you start to cry as he holds you in his arms. “sweetheart i will do absolutely everything for you. you are my main priority. i don’t need anything else but you. i will always be here when you don’t feel good.” he kisses your cheek as more tears fall from your eyes.

“honey- i love you so much okay? come here.” he pulls you closer to him as he kisses your lips. you kiss him back as you feel him pull away. he kisses your tears and gently wipes them away. “my pretty girl. i love you more than you know.” he smiles at you sweetly as he rubs your hair back. “i-i love you jungwoo.” you sigh into his arms as you stop yourself from letting more tears fall. “you are the best boyfriend i could ask for.” he shakes his head.

“you’re the best girlfriend i could ask for. you deserve the best only you know that. i will never give you less than you deserve. now let’s cuddle until i have to go to practice, i don’t want to leave your side until i have to go.” you laugh at him shaking your head. “what about my online classes? i haven’t done any assignments for this week.” you groan thinking about your work. “don’t worry about it until i leave! when i come back ill help you he smiles kissing your head as you two stay tangled in each others arms for the next hours to come.

#jungwoo #jungwoo x reader #nct jungwoo #kim jungwoo #jungwoo fluff #nct scenarios #nct 127 #nct u #nct x reader #nct imagines #nct #nct smut

[cintipede]

EXACTLY LIKE THAT uni has been killing me but i'm trying to Revive. YOUR ART IS SO AWESOME BTW I WAS CHECKING UR ACC JUST NOW my jonmartins ...

ARRGG.... i feel u on getting the life sucked out of you by academias im the same. but we will both make a comeback and FLOOR that shit

#ALSO THFANK YOU!!!!!! hee hee giggles yesh jonmartins #theyve honestly been the only thing i can draw for like months. God... #guys the show ended 3 years ago how are they still in the collective mind. theyre a disease. my wounds that wont heal </3 #I CHECKED UR ACC TOO AND SCROLLED THROUGH YOUR ART AND WAS LIKE WOAH.... OUH.... #like the other day. and like i gawked at it for some good minutes. genuinely so good is ur art #love still seeing you post and on my dash. feels like walking and seeing u across the street and i smile on the passing #again so good to see u!!!!!!! hope you have great days and weeks and rest get wealthy get rich get big money ect #asks #best wishes and luck on uni :-D

[zreamy]

i'll love you forever

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

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

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

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

word count: 21,858

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

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

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

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

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

Or to you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But the night was missing its usual comforts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon cries again. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sunghoon, a word?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You will?” 

“Yes. Goodbye.” 

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

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

With a lump in his throat, Sunghoon nods. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“From here?” he asks, incredulous. 

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

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

“Open the boot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until tonight at least. 

“Are you okay?” he whispers. 

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

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

“What happened?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No one’s looking, boyfriend.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You two okay back there?” she asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What for?” 

“Everything.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t.” 

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

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

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

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

“Nowhere.” 

“You told him you were staying on campus?” 

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

“So you just left?” 

“Does it make a difference to you?” 

Sunghoon nods.

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

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

“Was it?” he asks. “Because of me?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I still should’ve been there.” 

“You’re here now, right?” 

Sunghoon nods, earnestly. “Always.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” 

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

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

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

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

“What’s this for?” she asks. 

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

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

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

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

His chest tightens when you start crying. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t respond. 

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

“But you’re so pretty,” you coo. 

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

“Go back to sleep,” he says. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, me too.” 

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

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

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

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

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

hoonie: I missed you so much.. 

hoonie: 🤍

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

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

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

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

“The longest of my life.” 

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

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

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

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

“You’re disgusting.” 

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

“Shut up.” 

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

“Don’t touch him.”

“Oh?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

you: sounds good, see u later 🤍

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

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

hoonie: Do you want to head to class together? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hums, nodding his head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Deal.” 

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

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

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

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

“How are your notes so good?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes. It’s three a.m.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“You seem fine to me.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell me.” 

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

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

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

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

Yeonjun did.

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

Oh, you think. Lovesickness. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi,” you said, clearing your throat. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you: i have news wonie..  i like sunghoon

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

hoonie: Wanna study together after class? 

you: of course!!!!!! 

hoonie: 🤍

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

you: class just finished, heading to lib rn 

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

you: i’ll try..

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

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

“Are you hot?” you blurt out. 

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

“I’m asking,” you mumble. 

“Then, yeah, I’d hope so.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re distracting.”

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

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

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

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

Oh. 

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

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

“Are you going to get that?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want to.” 

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

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

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

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

You nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thankfully tonight, it’s the first one. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon nods. “For closure.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You love him. He’s gone. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod. “So much.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please can I be your boyfriend?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

hoonie: Finger slipped.. You like?

you: mm.. 

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

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

you: i love it………….

hoonie: My girl 🤍

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

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

hoonie: Thx 😁

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A good something?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t have to be.”

“I just want to be good for you.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hums in affirmation, nodding his head. 

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

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

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

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

You nod. “You can.” 

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

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

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

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

“And this? If you want..” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t want to hurt you.”

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

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

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

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

“Hoon,” you whisper. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you: i’m so sorry we lied to you..

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

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

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

permanent taglist: @asahicore

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

[widowmaxff]

Hello!! I was having some bad days recently, could u make a one-shot of moms!wandanat and reader with the reader having a bad week, and then Wanda and Natasha comforts reader? If you want to, of course!

enough for you

pairings: parents!wandanat × daughter!reader

warnings: bad thoughts, self-deprecating reader, lots of crying, one agent who really needs to stfu - i think thats all!

a/n: tysm for the request my love! im so sorry for the delay in posting this one shot, my life has been very busy these last few months. and i dont think this one turns out the way u wanted it, because i already made one like your request but w mom!wanda but i hope u like it :3

HOW YOU CAN HELP PALESTINE!

You always saw yourself working for SHIELD. Being able to do missions and 'save the world' was something you always wanted to do. Having mothers who are considered super heroes was also something that made you inspired by this life, but you only saw it from the outside. How they were greeted by everyone or how it seemed so easy for them to do these hero things. But when you finally got what you wanted when you turned eighteen, it wasn't what you expected.

It was the third time in the last few days that you had messed up in a mission in which you were classified. The looks the other agents gave you at the Academy made you feel horrible. You obviously hadn't messed up the missions on purpose, you would never do that. But it seemed like all those people expected that every step you took would be right, that you would never make mistakes, and that you would be as good as your mothers. Your head hurt just thinking about it. And that thought led you to others, how ashamed you felt remembering how the other agents spoke mean words to you when, again, you messed up on the mission.

You tried to distract yourself from these types of self-sabotaging thoughts about yourself by training even harder. Punching and kicking the red cylinders using all your strength, and even after hours it still felt like you didn't feel good enough, strong enough. All you wanted was to just stop thinking for at least a few seconds, and when you heard those heavy footsteps you knew that wasn't what was going to happen. "Oh, look who's here!"

You didn't care about remembering that agent's name, but you remembered exactly her voice and face, because it was her who started the whispers about how you weren't like your mothers. How you spoiled the missions of the last few days of that week, how you will never be like them. "The daughter of the great Black Widow and the Scarlet Witch, even if it doesn't seem like it." You continue ignoring her presence there, massaging your fingers to continue punching the red bag. "Do they know how you failed this last week?"

She wasn't stupid to know how horrible your week had been, how the failed missions, the disturbances and all those other things were making you almost have panic attacks right there in front of everyone. "No." Your voice was low, because you knew that if you exerted the necessary strength to reach a greater height, the tears would fall without your permission.

"What do you think they will do when they find out how bad you are?" She starts to approach you with those boots with a high step, her head lolling to the side with a tone to tease you. A smirk on her sharp face, her gloved hands resting on her waist. All those little details made you want to scream in her face, tell her that you weren't bad, but how would you say that if you didn't even believe it yourself?

"Maybe they'll get you out of here when they see how bad you are and realize that any of the agents here are much better than you, your place as an Avenger is almost invisible.” The girl laughs, her cheeks almost covering her eyes due to the action. At some other time you would find her features extremely beautiful, but at that moment, you wanted to vomit just looking at her.

Even if you tried to be strong at that moment, like your mother Natasha, you couldn't. Your fists were clenched tightly trying to control the tears from coming out, the pain of your nails in the palms of your hands trying to distract you from that moment. And every time that Agent mentioned your mother's name, your thoughts directed you only to them, how you wanted to be in their arms right now while you feel your hair being stroked by Wanda's magical hands. You knew that if you wanted comfort from your mothers they wouldn't wait a second to give it to you, and even if you didn't want to talk about why you were feeling that way, they wouldn't force you to talk.

"Where are you going? Ruin another mission?” If it weren't for the high-pitched, irritating tone of her voice, you wouldn't have even registered those questions in your head. Your thoughts were in a totally different space from that place, just wanting your mothers affection. So when you started packing your things and totally ignoring that Agent, you knew that your body wouldn't stop until you got home.

The girl's laugh echoed throughout the room as you headed towards the exit door of the place. In films, this scene would be dramatic, as if the main character was planning some revenge in their head to end the character who keeps provoking them. But at that moment you weren't thinking about revenge, or how you would turn things around, you just thought about how your mothers affectionate touches would turn that bad week into just distant memories. How you were sure that your mother Wanda would know what to say to you and how Natasha would know what to do so that your surroundings were just comfort.

You didn't wait a second before getting on your motorcycle, which Natasha had given you as a gift for your 18th birthday, and heading towards your childhood home. Even though those bad thoughts were in your head now and could possibly distract you in the traffic on the streets, you continued on your way with your eyes soaked with tears and the horrible tightness in your chest. You tried to think of good things, like your mom Wanda would probably be baking chocolate chip cookies and your mom Natasha would just be watching, since cooking isn't one of her great talents, but that domestic situation was pretty far away for you. It seemed that any self-deprecating thought stood in the way, a great layer of ignorance about happiness.

You didn't bother to park the motorcycle correctly, just running towards the entrance porch and knocking, almost softly, on the door. You heard some sweet giggles through it, confirming that your mothers were in some domestic situation, before the door calmly opened and revealed Wanda's long red hair. Her smile opened for a few seconds when she saw it was you, their beloved daughter, but when she came across the features on your face, the reddish eyes with lakes over them, her smile soon fell apart, taking its place a worried look. “Sweetie? What happened, my love?"

She took no time in taking you into her arms, even though you didn't answer her question. Your head falls on your mother's shoulder as she wraps one of her arms around your waist and the other massages the hair spread across her chest. Your hands tightly grip the blouse stuck to Wanda's body, as if at any moment she would come off and no longer provide the comfort you needed. Natasha heard your sobs from the kitchen, and she knew they were yours, she knew and kept almost everything about you. She quickly heads towards the front door, seeing her wife's back being grabbed by you, and how your body looked like it would fall to the ground at any moment.

“Shh, it’s okay, you’re okay.” Wanda whispered in your ear with her sweet voice. Your crying was loud, as if you had kept it for several days, your mother thought. She didn't know and had no idea why you were sobbing uncontrollably and why you arrived so early that day. Normally you would be completing some report, or training, since you always said how strong you wanted to get. But at that moment, everything didn't seem strong to you.

At some point you were carried and taken towards the comfortable sofa in that house. Your thoughts were so loud that you didn't even notice when you were positioned on your mother Wanda's lap. She still kept her grip on his body and the affectionate words in your ear. “I need you to breathe for me, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?” Her breathing became heavier and slower, forcing it so that at that moment you could keep up with her. Natasha, beside you two, continued to caress your back, praising you for following Wanda so well.

You finally managed to take a deep breath after what felt like hours of crying and sobbing. Your gaze fell from your mother's eyes to your hands in your lap, you felt embarrassed. Maybe because you were 18 and sitting on your mother's lap, or because you were crying uncontrollably without being able to breathe properly, or because you failed at the only thing you wanted to do at SHIELD. “I feel like a baby.” You say in a low voice, almost making your mothers not hear, even with their proximity.

"Well, you're our baby." Natasha says making you finally let out a laugh between your lips. “Do you want to tell us why you're so sad, my love?” You didn't know if you wanted to tell them or not, the negative thoughts making you think they were going to fight you, tell you how bad you are. So, you shrug and lay your head on Wanda's shoulder again, but in a position so you could still look at your mother Natasha. “I just- I had a bad week.” You murmur, closing your eyes to feel the comfort that place brought you. “And, um… I think I should stop being an Agent.”

That took their mothers by surprise. You always said you wanted to be one of the people at SHIELD and you always trained to be one of the best at that place. “Oh, and why do you think that?” Wanda questions. Even though you didn't see her, you knew she would be looking at Natasha, as if they were talking through looks.

“I’m not good enough.” You felt Wanda's body tense beneath you. Your mothers always knew how much you felt like everyone was better than you, how hard it was to believe you were good at something. “This week I- I ruined every mission I went on,” Your mother's blouse was soaked with your tears, and now she could once again feel the salt water falling from your eyes through the fabric. “all the Agents are making fun of me because of it. They say I will never be like you.”

When you finish speaking, Wanda's grip on your body becomes even tighter, you feel Natasha's hand in your hair, stroking it as you hear her sigh deeply. “I've lost count of how many times your mother and I messed up a mission.”

“What?”

“There were several times when I blew up my teammates, for example, Uncle Tony was probably the one who received the most blasts.” Natasha says, making the three of you laugh at the words. “What about the times your mother mistook me for enemies and threw me out of buildings with her magic? We had to stop missions many, many times.” She emphasizes the word 'many', as if she were singing it.

“Remember when I joined the Avengers, Nat?” She was asking your mother, but she was talking so you could listen. “I was much older than you, Y/n/n, and I couldn't do half the things you do today at SHIELD, even with my powers.” She leaves a kiss on your head before continuing. “In every training session I did, I always ended up on the ground.” You laugh again, feeling much lighter than before.

”And you want to know something? I bet you were the one doing all the mission stuff, huh?” Natasha says. “Because if no Agent has ever made a mistake on a mission, then they aren’t real Agents.”

“Your mother is right, make mistakes is human, my love, and everyone will do it one day.” You feel your thoughts start to ease now. The tears stopped falling down your face and only lightness is in their place. Your mothers always knew what to do to make you feel good.

"You're right..." You finally admit, lifting your head from your mother's shoulder and looking at the two women in front of you, seeing nothing but affection and truths.

Wanda sits you down on the couch before getting up and ruffling your hair. "Now, don't worry your pretty head about that stuff and just think about the cookies that are going to go into your stomach in a little while that obviously weren't made by Natasha!"

"What do you mean by 'obviously’?" You laugh at that one scene, seeing Natasha's arms cross under her breasts as an indignant expression is placed on her face.

And at the end of the day you knew that you wouldn't have to worry about anything - just your mom's delicious cookies - and that you knew that your moms would never think about fighting or being upset with you. And Natasha would definitely make sure you didn't need to worry about that Agent who wouldn't leave you alone. That bitch will obviously never set foot in SHIELD again.

#natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x daughter!reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #wanda x you #wanda x reader #wanda x natasha #wanda maximoff #black widow x reader #mcu imagine #wanda marvel #black widow #marvel imagine #marvel cinematic universe #avengers imagine

[whiskersz]

Heyy, could u do a head canon/one shot (or anything else whatever u want) about fem angel!reader and adam just being cute together maybe her preening him like birds do bc I love to think of the angels just as big ass birds haha or anything else cute for that matter.

If u don't want to that's completely fine of course hope u have a great day/night!!

*taps fingers together* hey...I know I said I wouldn't post today but like, I'm a little silly!

Loved writing this even though it's short...enjoy!!

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

Adam x Fem! Angel! Reader - Preening

You sat behind Adam, facing his back on his king sized bed, a large towel laid underneath you and a couple products that you had grabbed from his bathroom placed beside you. In the warmth of a late afternoon, he had called you for an alleged emergency, and you, being the caring girlfriend that you were, had immediately rushed to his place.

The emergency had simply turned out to be a couple feathers out of place in his wings, but on further inspection he clearly needed a good preening session from your more expert hands.

“I told you to do this every now and again, Adam.” You gently scolded him, applying some smoothing cream starting from the base of his wings. He let out a content hum before retorting;

“Yeah, yeah. Already told you I do it enough times.”

“And how often do you mean by ‘enough times’?”

You couldn’t see it, but he rolled his eyes at the question.

“Like, once a week.” He heard you huff, “I’m a busy man, babe.”

You resisted nagging him, focusing on the task at hand instead. His feathers looked slightly rough, differently from yours and the other Angels’, who usually preened at least once a day. It was like taking care of your hair after all, you thought.

Glad that you didn’t have anything else to say, he lowered his gaze back on his phone, concentrating on some videogame he had recently downloaded to pass the time. He had this habit of keeping the volume really high no matter where he was, while you would’ve preferred to listen to the birds chirping outside and the gentle buzzing of the city in the distance, but you were too focused to complain now.

Fortunately he got bored of the game pretty quickly, allowing you to smooth out each feather with the cream in silence. You slowly got to the longer feathers of his left wing, which you had to get on your knees to reach since they were so far away. He tucked his wings in a bit to help you.

“Thank you darling, but I’m gonna need them to be sprawled out to do this properly.”

He let out a small ‘oh’ before stretching his wing out again, unhappy that his attempt to make this easier for you had gone to waste.

You kept working silently, helped by the orange-ish light coming from outside; his curtains had been hung to the side to let more light in.

Adam had to admit that feeling your hands work on his wings was rather relaxing; he rested his unmasked face against his hand and allowed himself to close his eyes. Had he been lying down, he was sure he would’ve fallen asleep.

You smiled and paused to gently kiss the back of his neck, a gesture he had grown fond of especially whilst you were preening his wings or he was busy trying to cook something in the kitchen.

“I love you.” you casually said, starting to work on his right wing.

“Love you too, angel face.”

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #x reader #adam x reader #hazbin hotel #adam hazbin #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin adam #adam one shot

[stevebabey]

a piece that alas, will never get finished 😔 the bath fic that was once discussed, half written, and left to rot in my tumblr drafts. i hope u can read the seeds i was planting and see the vision i had even if i never could write it <3

Hot water is, indisputably, a luxury in the Munson household.

Far as Eddie knows, the same goes for the whole damn world.

Hot water is something sacred. Something to be used scarcely, lest you drain the tank and have only cold water to wash your plates and yourself in for the rest of the week.

It's not the worst, but, well, then again Eddie can think of few things worst than needing a shower during the colder winter months when the water splutters out lukewarm and the cold trickles in right when he's in the middle of washing his hair. It sucks. Always sends him to bed with the shivers.

Hell, sometimes he'd even do the mile at school just for a chance to get in the showers first — dashing in for the free hot water that only lasted a good couple minutes.

It was worth it though, Eddie thought.

Both the exercise and the sneers, in exchange for getting to be truly warm for the first time since he'd gotten out of bed that day. Warm showers will do that to you though.

Eddie's heard stories of places, of faraway like Hawaii or somewhere, where it gets so warm that when it rains, the water sometimes rains down already warm. Like a great big shower for the whole place.

He reckons if that ever happened here in the middle of nowhere Indiana, he'd be out dancing in the streets in the warm rain. Soaking it all in. Taking not a single drop for granted.

Steve's house, as Eddie has discovered, has more than one shower — because it's got multiple bathrooms.

In the time he's been hunkered down there, his sides patched up roughly and healing at what feels like a snails pace, Eddie has taken to exploring the empty halls of the Harrington House.

It's... enormous. Gargantuan. Fucking massive.

There's rooms with doors that never open. Rooms that Eddie's never even seen Steve go near. Endless doors and cupboards and an upstairs and downstairs, and far too many garages for one just couple and their son.

Eddie explores them all.

It stems from his boredom, of course, because patient isn’t one of the words used to describe Eddie Munson but restless certainly is.

He wanders aimlessly, under the guise that he needs to keep using the muscles in his legs while he heals up but truthfully, he loves a good snoop.

Soon enough, the driving force of his wandering transforms from boredom to… curiosity.

Steve Harrington has always been an enigma to Eddie.

Upholder of conventional standards and the heterosexual gaze turned, well, loser, in the manner of a couple months- it was jarring to say the least.

Especially to the likes of people like Eddie, for whom he had represented everything wrong with small town Hawkins. Rich meathead jocks who pay their way through school.

Eddie always figured he’d had a fucking mansion of a house but this place… it’s unsettling, seeing so much space, so unlived in.

It’s even more unnerving how Steve just… doesn’t take up space.

Even in his own home. Steve’s bedroom doesn’t sprawl out, it’s not packed with possessions and hobbies like Eddie knows his own is. His wallpaper matches his sheets, picked out by someone who clearly doesn’t know Steve.

Everything is tidy because Steve seems to have this neatness ingrained deep within him. He putters around, on auto pilot sometimes, to keep the space clean for parents who don’t seem to come home.

When Steve's out at work and it's just Eddie, wandering aimlessly to keep the strength in his legs, the loneliness of the place yawns down the halls. Consuming. Suffocating.

He’s found himself eagerly awaiting Steve's arrival home from work, if only to hear someone else's voice other than his own.

Today, Eddie's searching has lead him here— into the master bedroom’s ensuite and they have a goddamn fuckin’ bathtub.

It’s a proper fancy type one with clawed bronze feet and a wide lip, made of sparkling clean marble. The type he might describe for that is a King in a campaign, just to be on the nose about how wealthy and greedy this character was.

He’s so transfixed on it that he doesn’t even hear Steve jimmying his keys into the lock, coming home.

It isn’t until— “Eddie?”

Eddie jumps, startled, as Steve’s hand touches on his shoulder lightly. His goal to not scare the other boy doesn’t go as intended, considering how much Eddie flinches but the moment he turns his head, his face is relaxing.

“Fuck, dude,” He breathes a sigh of relief, lips quirking into a smile. “Didn’t hear you come up.”

Steve shrugs a bit and scratches behind his ear, a bit awkwardly. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

Eddie nods, but his gaze has already shifted back to the tub before them. Steve follows his gaze easily, an easy chuckle passing his lips.

“I see you found the bath.”

“Yeah…” Eddie says, sounding a bit breathless, his voice distant. Steve glances over, trying to understand the strange emotion toying on Eddie’s features. It’s just a bath. Steve hasn’t even been allowed to use it before, sure, but he likes his own shower just fine.

“It was such a bitch to get it in when they first got it,” Steve explains, folding his arms across his chest as he recalls the memory.

He points his finger behind him to the doorway without moving his arm. “Knocked down a whole wall ‘cos they couldn’t get it to through the doorway. To be honest, I’ve always thought it was kind of ugly.”

He’s waiting for Eddie to say something. For the joke, for the sneering comment on his parent’s fortune, for any lippy spiel that usually gets under Steve’s skin in the best way. The longer Eddie stays quiet, the more it begins to worry Steve.

It’s as though Eddie hasn’t even heard him.

Steve clears his throat and tries again, his tone light and delivered with a chuckle. “Man, you’d think you’ve never seen a bath before.”

Eddie’s head snaps toward Steve. He finally breaks his trance, regrettably just to snap at Steve. “I have, thank you very much.”

Steve feels a bit of embarrassment bloom over his cheeks, wanting to backtrack on his poor joke instantly but before he can open his mouth Eddie is already softening, hackles falling. His eyes are back on the bath.

“Just… haven’t even taken one.” He admits softly.

Steve doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know what’s going through Eddie’s mind — can’t come close to understanding what forlorn nostalgia is tugging at Eddie’s gut.

“Not really, I don’t think.” He continues. He pauses to think, head tilting back just a bit. “When I was really little, maybe. Little enough to fit in the sink or— or something.”

Eddie seems to realise he’s letting whatever thoughts he’s having drift out of his mouth and promptly snaps his jaw shut, teeth clacking as he does. He doesn’t look at Steve, doesn’t want to see the pity or the sympathy or the—

“Anyways,” Eddie huffs a breath, turning to leave his newfound discovery on the exploration of the Harrington House.

When—

“Do you want to?” Steve asks suddenly. His voice is sincere. “Take one?”

Eddie blinks. Wonders if it’s a joke, that it’s being offered out just so it can snatched away and Steve can laugh at how desperate Eddie is to actually be given this. He has to hastily remind himself that Steve wouldn’t do that to him.

There’s no containing the excitement rushing in his voice when Eddie spits out, “Can I?”

Steve chuckles, an easy smile at the other’s eagerness.

It’s easy to overrun the instinct that’s ingrained deep, not to cross the little rules his parents have scattered through the house — easy because he’s doing it more and more with Eddie here.

They’d eaten off his mom’s expensive and untouched china on the first night Eddie had managed to get up and about to eat downstairs, instead of tucked in bed.

He’d been so keen to help, proclaiming that he’d set the table for the both of them— too excited to be up and moving to remember that he and Steve weren’t usually as buddy-buddy as they were acting.

Steve had soaked in it greedily. Warm brown eyes, saccharine smile, he’s found that Eddie sort of glows when he’s happy. And that giving him good food is one of the ways to stir up that happiness.

But even then, Steve had paused seeing the plates in Eddie’s hands, an instant stone in his throat because he isn’t allowed to use those ones.

Sputtering through a sentence, Steve swallowed the stone and skipped over the rule he’d never broken before. It was worth it for the smile on Eddie’s face.

Just like it’s worth it now. Seeing the awed smile on his face, already a little jittery at the thought of a bath… Steve’s embarrassed to find he can’t really say no to him.

He keeps that to himself though, because if Eddie knew that he’d be batting his eyelashes and making every demand known to Earth. But then again, that didn’t sound so bad either.

Christ, Steve thinks to himself. He’s so screwed.

#gay ppl in my phone…. today i let u down #by leaving you hanging #it’s a fill in the blank story ! u can choose how it ends ! #mwah mwah mwah #ruby writes steddie #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #uhhhhh i think that’s all #enjoy?

[cursingtoji]

Hi pretty baby!! How are u doing it’s been a lil while 🥰💕 I came by bc I just saw your event! I was thinking sexual tension with Aki from csm could be fun for you to do if you like (more fun for me to read I’m sure ahfksjfjd) anyway I hope ur doing good ily mwah mwah xx

𝑺𝒆𝒙𝒖𝒂𝒍 𝑻𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏

luxe you have no idea how happy i got when i saw your ask 💕 this means a lot thank you for joining 💕 The Clichés ™

— peek summer in japan.

the small devil you two were fighting wasn’t strong or even fast, but the heat wave made you all slow and weak, so when it ran in your direction you couldn’t attack it properly, instead you get knocked over and fell down the stairs of the abandoned building.

“fuck” you murmured hazily, aki ran towards you offering a hand, when you took it and tried to get up your ankle protested and you lost balance hissing from the pain.

aki was quick to steady you by your waist, you looked up where your partner’s face was mere inches from yours, mesmerizing blue eyes too close for comfort.

his forehead was shiny with sweat. a few hairs sticking to it, the first few buttons of his shirt were open and sleeves rolled up. even his tie was hanging low. it was the first time you saw him that disheveled and it made your legs weak.

“the devil escaped” you muttered.

“i know” he muttered back with you still in his arms, “there’s a hospital not too far from—“

“no, they’ll tell me to put ice and rest, i’ll just go home” you tried to put some weight on the twisted (maybe broken) ankle and almost fell again but aki’s hands tighten up around you.

“my place is closer, let’s go” he let go of you to turn around flexing his knees slightly for you to hop on his back.

your arms went around his neck and legs wrapped on his hips. aki gulped to the feeling of your breasts pressed on his back, he straightened himself and tried to adjust you by holding your thighs but his hands went a little bit too far squeezing your ass accidentally to which he immediately apologized.

“you didn’t have to offer me a piggyback ride if all you wanted was to grab my ass, hayakawa” you giggled and his ears got pink.

“as if i wanted to grab your sweaty ass on purpose” he started to walk with you on his back as easy as carrying a simple backpack.

“shut up, i can literally feel how drenched your back is.”

you and aki bickering/flirting was nothing but normal, whenever denji was around to witness it he always said something along the lines of “get a room”. now it’s different cause you have never been this close to each other before, aki kept talking about how inevitable it was for him to get this sticky when tokyo was under 100% humility that week, but this trivial conversation was only to distract him for having your arms around him and your legs brushing against his crotch. you of course was also affected by the proximity, he smelled fresh even after sweating all day, you teased him about his sweaty back but thanks to it you could feel the muscles under his shirt.

when you arrived to his building you tried to let go of him but he held your legs.

“what you doing?” he asked.

“i’m not climbing those stairs on your back, what if you fall back and crush me to death?” you placed your good foot on the floor.

“yeah cause i’m the one that fell down the stairs and broke my foot.”

“i was pushed by the devil you let escape.”

“i only let it escape after he knocked your dumbass. now come here cause i have things to do” aki bent and took you bridal style all the way up stairs, a great way to shut you up, “devil got your tongue?”

“fuck off, hayakawa” you turned your head so he wouldn’t see your cheeks heating up.

somehow he managed to open his door, kick his shoes off with you still on his lap and enter the quiet house.

“where—“

“they’re with kishibe” he answered knowing what your question was going to be.

you got placed on the couch and quickly sat up to take a look at your ankle but aki was faster.

“it’s pretty swelled” he held your leg up by your calf, when he tried to roll your pants up he touched your ankle and your pulled your leg back hissing in pain, “you can’t put ice on top of your pants” he justified.

“these are skinny jeans, i can’t roll it up, especially now” you looked down at your ankle, the hem was already too tight around it.

“then you’re gonna have to take it off” he simply told you before turning around.

“is this your plan to see me naked?” you playfully narrowed your eyes at him.

“yeah this all just part of it” he replied sarcastically and picked the thick throw blanket from the couch to toss at you.

“ew i’m not covering myself with that, it’s hot as fuck already” you pushed the blanket off of you.

“you’re really fucking annoying you know that?” he huffed and disappeared into a room, coming back with a bed sheet that went straight to your face, it smelled like aki and you guessed it was his bedsheet.

“do you always treat your guests like that? rude!” you barked back unbuttoning your jeans and pushing it down one leg easily but carefully with the other.

aki stood there waiting for you to take them off completely before handing you the frozen food package he picked, he didn’t mean to stare but he ended up taking a peek at your red underwear while you struggled with the hem of the tight black jeans (which he obviously noted when you met in the morning), he cleared his suddenly dry throat removing his tie and opening a few buttons of his shirt.

“don’t you have a fan or something?” you asked when you managed to kick the pants off and used the sheets to cover your bottom.

“power broke it” he walked over to the glass door and opened, it wasn’t enough to cool you down but it was slightly better. aki took your legs and sat with them on top of his lap — since the couch was small — carefully putting the frozen package on top of it. “better?” he asked with one hand touching the skin above the swollen area.

“i’m gonna get all wet” you replied without thinking your choice of words throughout “i mean— from the heat and… the ice… melting and…” when you met aki’s eyes they were dark, he was breathing heavily and when he noticed a droplet going from your temple all the way down your cleavage he couldn’t help the groan that left his throat. why did you have to say things like that? and look at him like this? and have the softest fucking skin?

it happened fast, he placed your leg on his shoulder before he took an impulse to close the gap between you two and kiss you like he wanted to have done for a long time ago. aki’s lips were soft and he tasted like the cigarette he was smoking earlier, you were panting on each other’s lips in little to no time.

in a swift move aki ripped the sheet out of your body and you were quick to wrap your other leg around him, his crotch directly brushing against the damp spot of your underwear. he kissed your neck, the sweat being almost like an aphrodisiac to him.

“you are all wet” he breathed against your clothed core, using the words you said earlier.

“fuck you” you sighed when you felt his fingers exploring the shape of your pussy

“yeah, fuck me” when aki was about to dive in like a thirsty man the door opened.

denji took one step with a knocked out power hanging on his shoulder, he was killed countless times that day by kishibe and couldn’t wait to hit the bed, so when he looked up to see aki staring wide eyed at him with his hair falling off the ponytail, a girl’s leg on his shoulder and his bed sheets all over the floor, he tiredly sighed and turned around carrying power who started to question what he was doing.

“you own me big time, topknot”.

See also: Wet transparent shirt — Denji

#aki x reader #chainsaw man x reader #pov aki opening the door an hour later and dragging denji and power inside while you bath #csm x reader #aki x you #aki smut #csm smut #— the cliches ™

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

wait damn it i dont think i was anon making that request so HIYA AGAIN 💀💀 (basically this is just restating my request)

foaming at the mouth for peter quill (per usual) so this is a peter req! so maybe smthn abt reader stealing his shirt/s like hes trying to find one and hes like okay where did all my shirts go and then he sees reader all comfy in his shirt and he just MELTS 🥰

Hopefully you can do this soon, ur like famous so u have like 1000 requests LMAO have a great rest of your week/end!

-🪐

hii again🪐!! and dw you were anon for that request😭😭 this is so stinking cute! thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌 have a great rest of you week too<3 also wanna know something funny? I have 2 of his tshirts, he left them at mine ;)

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Peter Quill x f reader

wc || 0.8k

warnings || none just fluff

masterlist + rules

taglist

There are many great attributes about Quill, and sometimes there are too many to list. But one thing in particular, is his style. Despite his knack for good music and food, there's just something about his clothes that often made you gawk. 

Over the years, Peter has acquired quite the collection of fun and funky t-shirts, most of them bought on various planets as souvenirs after a mission or even as little gifts from you. 

Quill has so many tops that he couldn't possibly have use for every single one, so more often than not, you'd find yourself riffling through his drawers to steal one or five of his t-shirts. His clothes always smell so comforting and homely that you couldn't stop yourself from stealing, even if you wanted to. Your favourite shirts of his are from his slightly chubbier days. They'd feel so soft and comfortable against your skin that you'd often wear them day and night. The bigger the top, the more loved it felt. But you weren't being picky because you loved literally anything he wore. He could wear a trash bag, and as long as it smelt like him, you'd wear that trash bag too.

So today, like any other day, instead of picking your clothes from your side of the closet, you scrounge over to his side, flicking through the hangers to see what you want to wear. 'Happening' upon his grey, long sleeve with white writing, you quickly remove his other t-shirt you were wearing, flinging it across the room into the dirty pile before dressing yourself. Slipping on a pair of joggers, you make your way to the living room, plopping yourself down on the sofa, and wrapping a fluffy blanket over you.

A few short minutes later, Peter is standing in the doorway with a towel draped over his lower half, tiny beads of water covering his chest. "Ahem," he says quietly, a sly smirk on his lips. "Uh- why can't I find any of my clothes?" he asks, sounding like he already knew the answer.

"Maybe they're in the dirty pile," you playfully lie with a deadpan expression, avoiding his gaze. "We haven't done any laundry in a little while. I'm sure there's stuff in there,"

"Hm, okay, right. But the thing is, I was sorta planning on wearing this one top today," sheepishly smiling, ruffling through his wet curls. "Don't suppose you've seen a grey long-sleeve?"

"Nope, haven't seen it," you coyly grin, bringing the blanket to your neck, covering the evidence.

"Yeah?" he hums, making his way over to you. "You sure you haven't seen it?" 

"Nope," you repeat, shaking your head. 

"So if I just..." he says slowly, reaching for the blanket.

You copy him, reaching for his towel, playful eyes as you threaten to tug the fabric down. He looks down at you and shrugs. Grinning. "Do it. I don't care," 

"Okay, alright, fine. I'm wearing it," you cave, ripping away the blanket. "I couldn't help it," you bribe, sweet eyes dancing up at him. 

"How long you been stealing my clothes?" he asks, his tone full of warmth, chuckling.

"Not long," you lie. "But I really can't help it, okay, Pete? It's a problem. I can't stop myself," you say playfully, brushing over your arms as if to show your comfort. "See?"

He stares down at you, his eyes full of admiration. "Yeah? That why I have no clothes left?"

"You have tonnes of clothes. You have so many you didn't even realise they were missing," you say impishly, eyebrows quirking. "They just smell like you," you shrug, a sweet smile on your lips. "You're not mad?"

Shaking his head. "Nah, they look better on you anyway," he grins. "But, have you seen that dark blue one? The one with uh-- the um, light blue circle smile face thing?"

"Maybe... sorry. I wore that the other week," you playfully frown. "But it's clean," you bribe. "I washed it right after. It should be in that pile over there," Pointing.

"Mhmm," he says with squinted eyes and a grin.

He returns half-dressed with the t-shirt in hand, swinging it as he makes his way back to you. "I wanna wear that one," pointing to you. "I wanna smell you," he says quietly, practically inaudible.

"What?" you grin, only hearing fragments. 

"I wanna smell you, now give it," he repeats loud enough for you to hear, his fingers grabbing towards you. "I’m getting cold— look my nipples could cut glass, hurry,"

"But it smells like you," 

He boyishly grins as if he's thought of an idea. He puts on the blue top, rubbing over the fabric as if to transfer his scent before removing it and handing it to you. "Better?"

Sitting up with a smile, you undress from the top, putting on the new one as Peter did the same. He plops down beside you, draping his arm over your shoulder. "You do look cute in my clothes," he grins, kissing your temple.

@annielr @ugh09876554444 @spacetalbot @bubblezuku @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser

#🪐 #peter quill #peter quill x you #peter quill x reader #peter quill x fem!reader #peter quill x female reader #peter quill x y/n #peter quill fanfiction #peter quill imagine #peter quill fanfic #peter quill imagines #peter quill fluff #peter quill drabble #starlord x you #star lord #starlord x reader #gotg fanfiction

[icyblogs]

god bless u for the 141/fallout post i’ve been going feral thinking about a fallout au where simon is a pre-war ghoul who fought in the great war and still wears his power armor to hide that fact 🙏🙏 better yet even simon/reader fallout au where they were married before the bombs fell, and being a military wife she was lucky enough to get a space in a vault but ended up in cryo-freeze while he became a ghoul and they meet again 200 years later

Fallout!AU Ghoul!Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader WC: 1.2K words Note: Hi anon! I had to do a little research about how exactly ghouls and cryo-freeze functioned, sorry for getting back to you so late! (does it still functionally make sense no but shh its fine) Anyways, I hope you enjoy! (:

Ghost who was already in the process of becoming a ghoul before the Great War! Already a renowned soldier; one of which was elected for a new experimental drug. For the sake of humanity he was told, after all, doing this will guarantee a spot in the vaults for him and his precious little wife! Doesn’t he want you to be safe? Though he might not have necessarily agreed with the means, don’t the rewards outweigh the consequences? Doesn’t he want to live out the rest of his days in peace with you? For a good vault- wanting the best for you. 

These tests, these experiments.. would end up taking a toll eventually. Too late for you to ever see of course. Well, by the time the great war actually starts, it’s far too late to see the effects of it at all. The experiments required him to stay on base- very seldom ever actually seeing you. “Just a few more weeks.” You were constantly told, and of course full heartedly you’d believe him. Why would he have any reason to lie? So when the first bomb drops.. And then the next. It was no surprise when you were forced to go into a vault without your husband, so scared. All alone without him. ):  

The experiments therefore spiraled, the results becoming null, nothing necessarily coming from them- too many variables being added. And with the radiation from all the bombs well.. He was no longer a ghost but a ghoul. 

He’d be similar to ‘The Ghoul’ in the show in my opinion! Fighting his way through the wasteland, killing, maiming- adapting. Becoming the monster that was always sort of lingering beneath the skin, going back to baser instincts. Everything he did was for his vows. For you. See, I'd imagine that he would wear a power-suit at first, especially when his skin starts to sort of stretch and shrivel, like a burn— eye sockets sinking, nose concaving. If he had found you, he didn’t want you to see what he was becoming; his humanity unraveling faster than he could keep the spool pulled taut. 

Though.. the first year passes. Then the first decade. A century. Two. 

Eventually time slows to a lull; without direction nor guidance. Always sort of be bordering on turning feral, one mishap away from just totally snapping. Enough for life itself to become a constant loop of just sort of.. apathy. Life wasn’t kind enough to people like him, never allowing anything good to stay in their lives. So why would it in this hellscape as well? Going through this so-called life like it was nothing more than a hindrance. Traveling through the land, taking on dead man’s jobs; not caring for the consequences at this point. Because what really was the point without you by his side? Never forming attachments, after all, why bother? He’d outlive them anyway.

Throughout the years, settlements pop up left and right- factions forming, most dying out faster than he could blink. These days, vaults come to the surface- trying to rebuild, kind to any poor soul or raider that they come across, like sheep walking right into the maws of a wolf. Then.. a new community sprouts up. 

Groups of thousands coming up to the surface, building a town- starting a new life. It really wasn’t anything new; Ghost had seen it and experienced it before. Would be a year or two at most of having a bed, having a steady access to food and drink- the meals always tasted like ash, if he thinks hard enough he might’ve remembered how your cooking tasted. He could blink and he was back in his home, watching you sway to some music on the radio, donned in a frilly apron, and you’d turn around and he could swear he could smell what you had in your hands. His imagination always ended up the same way; his eyes would eventually lead up to where your face was; blurry and being forgotten- he’d startle back to the reality at hand, mood darkening. 

So this new community. It wasn’t really a question of whether he was to make his way there, if not to stay for a brief moment of peace then to swindle them out of some supplies. Because at the end of the day they were vaulters. Nothing in the grand scheme of things: would probably die to some raiders anyway. They were always so eager to please, to see the good in people, and they were just so welcoming and hospitable. 

And then he saw.. you. 

The dreams, his imagination- the fog seemed to clear the moment he saw you again; even from a distance.. It was just how he had remembered you- his wife. You look like you haven't aged a day, donned in a blue clad jumpsuit. Simon watches with a dry mouth as you provide a kind smile to one of the people next to you, nodding your head as the pair of you attempt to cultivate the soil. He sees the way you jolt when the man’s hand brushes over your own as if he had shocked you- and his own eyes narrow at the sight, staring unblinkingly as if he might miss something. 

A mirage, it was easy to think. A trick of the light even- the radiation boiling his brain enough to fuck with his head, to give him some twisted hope about something that should not be possible. You.. should be dead. Long gone and yet- why were you in front of him? A phantom? Another way to mock him?

The more he looked he knew it was not the case. He could hear your voice- the cadence, all sounding just as how he's remembered it for the last eon. It made him wonder however- why were you smiling? Why.. were you laughing? He wasn’t with you- so why did you seem so happy then? 

There was something about a corpse yearning for someone full of life even still; for someone who was unburdened by centuries of an unforgiving and cruel world. He felt like Icarus, wanting to get closer; to see if he would melt if he got too close to the warmth. He’d be willing to burn if it meant that you were within reach again. His left hand felt heavy as he flexed it to try and release some tension, gold band digging into his skin. And with how sweet you looked, it only made his teeth ache and fingers twitch over the handle of his gun, longing to be with only you. Would your skin be as soft as he remembered? His throat felt dry, taking a step forward, aching to herd you back to where you belonged. Would your body still sing for him, even as your husband has turned into a monster, even as the stench of death and rot seems to follow him everywhere he goes? 

Would you still remember him? ..Did that matter at this point? He’s never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

After all, in sickness and in health, until death do us part. 

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #Fallout!AU #Ghoul!Ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #dark fic #call of duty #cod #cod x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #x reader

[yourheart-inmyhands]

heyyy it’s me again😓

i love ur writing sorryy😭 whenever it’s more convenient for you tho could i ask for yan zhongli (im obsessed with that man omfg), ayato and pantalone (again im obsessed w him sorry🥀) with a darling who is like, super high-maintenance? for an example they need to have their hair and nails done or they REFUSE(including them) to go near anyone because they think they don’t look good enough

stay safe, take breaks and make sure u are healthy above everything tho!!💗

-🐚

so i've never been into any of the hair and nails stuff (got my nails done professionally once in middle school, got sick of em after a week and ripped em all off) so i don't know how correct the lingo is, i kinda just went based off what i know from my sister, so i hope you enjoy :D

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including a small bit of delusional behavior, a small bit of obsessive behaviors, no specific pronouns used for the reader but a lot of mentions of reader having their hair/nails/lashes being done, and the rest is just sorta soft. Please read at your own risk!

Yandere!Zhongli, if you think this man has the mora to pay for anything you’re funny. There is an upside to this though, while he can’t pay to have you get your nails and hair done, or your lashes or for whatever else you wanna get, he can learn to do it for you. Hair and lashes take him a while as they can be more finicky but nails he picks up instantly. Not only is it cheaper but you can describe to him exactly what you want and he’ll be able to do it because he understands you and knows what you mean when you describe things. Plus you don’t have to worry about looking good when you get them done, you can just hang around in your pajamas until everything is finished.

Zhongli listened as you described the design you wanted on your nails, sorting through the assortment of polishes he had collected over his time with you. He’d do anything to please you, and while he couldn’t pay for the things you loved, he could certainly learn to do it for you. He understood wanting to maintain a certain image to the public but he’ll always insist that you look your best when you’re just you. When your hair hasn’t been done in a while, no fake lashes, and when your nails are just painted, no extra things on it. He doesn’t mind appearances, finding that he’s lived too long to base his relationship off something as simple as that, but he does appreciate both sides of you. While he’ll gladly chat about things while he does your nails or gossip while he does your hair, he’ll occasionally remind you that regardless of how you look, he’s always going to love you.

Yandere!Ayato is on top of it, like he schedules and pays for everything. He hires only the best and has them come to you, so that you can get the proper treatment you deserve in the comfort of the Kamisato Estate. You have personal stylists who do your nails, your hair, lashes, wardrobe updates, anything you want and they can do it. They also have some of the hottest gossip about the happenings in Inazuma, giving a proper salon treatment everytime they’re around.

You weren’t sure how Ayato made time to always schedule your appointments and such, keeping more on top of them than you did some days, but you weren’t about to complain about it. Your nail tech and hair stylist were amazing at their jobs, catering to your every whim and doing a phenomenal job at that, like they were born for this kind of work. The stories they brought with them were always just as great, the latest happenings around the city and the nation as a whole, who was doing what now and such on and so forth. Ayato would come to check in on you occasionally throughout your appointment, checking that everything was going well. And of course, when it’s done he expects you to come to his office and show off. He doesn’t care if you interrupt anything, to him you’re his top priority always. Plus he loves to see his darling all dolled up, feeling like the prettiest person in all of Inazuma. In his opinion, you always are, dolled up or not.

Yandere!Pantalone appreciates your intense take on your looks as appearances are a huge thing in his line of work, both on the business aspect and the intimidation aspect. He wants people to see that his accumulated wealth doesn’t go to waste, that he didn’t work for nothing. No, he uses his mass amount of mora to spoil his beloved, someone he has no problem writing checks or opening his wallet for. Anyone else can mind their own, his money is yours. The only downside to this is that he’s a horribly busy man, he’ll find whatever stylists you want and find some way to bring them to the Palace so you can have your appointments in the security of the Harbingers, but it’s up to you to schedule the appointments and keep track of when you’ll need to see them again. Just make sure you tell him when they are when you go to flaunt your new hairstyle and nail’s to him.

Pantalone’s soft smile spread just a bit farther across his face as you came bounding into his office, a bright smile of your own. You had just gotten your hair done and nails touched up and he could tell you were back to feeling like yourself again. While he appreciated all your looks and sides, he loved seeing you smiling and happy, and if that meant spending all this money for you to get pampered, he didn’t mind. He didn’t understand a lot of the words you used as you described what they did to your hair and nails, but he happily listened anyway, his delicate smile never faltering as you retold the whole chain of events. Even if his smile was often for show, when you were around it was never more genuine. He holds your hands in his larger, gloved ones as he looks over your nails, his fingers lightly tracing over the designs with an amused glimmer in his eyes. You were certainly something, and he intended to keep that bright light of yours shining.

#genshin x reader #genshin x male reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin x male reader #zhongli x reader #zhongli x male reader #yandere zhongli x reader #yandere zhongli x male reader #ayato x reader #ayato x male reader #yandere ayato x reader #yandere ayato x male reader #pantalone x reader #pantalone x male reader #yandere pantalone x reader #yandere pantalone x male reader #yandere genshin #yandere zhongli #yandere pantalone #yandere ayato

[miyaur]

𝄞 — thoma (gn reader) — ❝ i'll treat you like royalty ❞

summary: single, hardworking, thoma whose a father of a cute little girl you just happen to babysit! he ends up falling for you, finally seeing how much you care for his daughter, and his wellbeing, but he starts to have certain "dreams" about you at the same time that he wants to make reality.

a/n: d-d-d-dilf thoma... just hear me out okay... i seen so many headcannons for thoma as a father, anyways d/n is daughter name!! edit: i accidently deleted my progress again while playing valorant ❤️

warnings: nsfw, slight and i mean the slightest amount of dacryphilia if u squint hard enough, thoma 😍😍, dom!thoma, sub!reader, masturbation, idk sex??

dilf!thoma is overloaded with work at the office he works at, so he hired you! to take care of his daughter. only being able to come back late at night, he does miss his father-daughter bonding time with her :(

thoma comes hope to a sleeping child and a dozed off you too! coming over almost everyday to take care of such a little gremlin does tire you out </3 he takes (d/n) to bed, and you to sleep on the couch beside his bed, he'd be a monster to let you sleep outside!

now that you and him have talked a little more, getting to know each other, what's going at home, etc. he feels a bit closer everytime you come over, and when you talk to him. feels like home, yk?

thoma felt like he started to gain feelings for you, and not just a "that's a good person" feeling, but romantic. you made him feel like he finally had a place in this world. so much so, he started having dreams about you

those empty, sleepless nights, his mind will find a way to always wander back to you. you definitely would make a splendid partner, you're a great babysitter to (d/n), you were perfect. whenever you say his name, it does something to him

on those nights where you sleep over at his home after a long day of taking care of (d/n), of course you take the couch in thoma's room. while you sleep, thoma has an impossible time trying to doze off. the only thing on his mind is you, but not in a fluffy way.

the many wet dreams he's had of you bouncing on his cock, sucking him off from underneath his desk at the office, anything really, throughout the 4 weeks you took care of (d/n) made him crazy. crazy for your scent, your everything.

thoma tries his best to be quiet while you sleep, but it felt so good and to imagine you being pounded endlessly by him, and full of his seed. finally with one more pish he came, it'll be hard trying to cover it up if you ever questioned the stains.

sunshine finally pouring down, and out of the windows, you woke up and made breakfast before setting off, saying goodbye to (d/n) and thoma once again. since today was thoma's day off, finally finishing all the paperwork assigned last night. he couldn't think about anything but you.

the next day or so you came over to babysit again, till thoma told you it's also his day off. "oh, so is this where i stop babysitting the gremlin or?" you asked while (d/n) rested in your arms leaning her head on your shoulder. "that isn't what im implying— i mean yes continue to donyour job, i'll just also be home this time." he pats your shoulder and goes back inside. "follow dad!!" (d/n) says almost jumping out of your arms.

"also, i'd like to thank you for taking care of my dear daughter. it.. it means a ton to me and her." he adds, (d/n) jumping out of your hands to run around again. fast forward to dinner time, thoma was finishing up the food he cooked, as a thanks to you for being able to babysit.

afterwards reading a book to put (d/n) to sleep, you go back to thoma's room to get ready too. suddenly thoma grabs you by the waist from behind. "i— i wanted to thank you in another way. so please let me treat you like royalty just this once." he says giving you no chance to reply he starts sucking on your neck, making you whimper. finally facing you towards his face to get a better angle to bite your neck at.

once thoma finished sucking on your neck, he starts a long-lasting kiss, pushing you onto the bed with a desperate attempt to strip your clothes from you. (which um suceeds) "have i ever told you i love you?" thoma says deeply inhaling your scent, getting into the moment, "your crush on me was a bit obvious on me before this happened" kissing his forehead.

fast forward a bit, being pushed up against the wall and thoma's dick inside you thrusting fastly. holding you by your waist, cresent-like marks imprinted on your skin for how rough his pace was. completely unaware of yourself moaning his name so sweetly, the only words pouring out of your mouth being faster and pleads. round after round after round, you both finally gave it a rest.

"i love you so much" thoma added with doe eyes as if everything you both did just now didn't happen. "m-me too.." you said as he carried you to the bath. cleaned you up and u cuddled all night (which wasn't really all night, more like the rest of the morning)

anywaysr I just wanted to get this draft out as fast as possible but got carried away, capitano childe 3some next 😓😓

#genshin scenarios #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin drabbles #genshin fanfic #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact x you #genshin headcanons #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin x gn reader #genshin x female reader #genshin x you #genshin x gender neutral reader #thoma scenarios #thoma smut #thoma x reader #♪ winter.writes

[babiebom]

Hiiii. I hope ur ok with my just constantly being like *ahem* spencer reid 👉🏻👈🏻🥹🥹. I loved how you wrote him in the last request! I feel like a lot of the time, people write him very ooc - just bc he can be hard to get written the right way, but like that's my boy, look at him spitting random facts for HOURS 🥰🥰?? Like yes, pls info dump on me while I stare at u lovingly, Spence 💞.

I recently came to terms with being ftm, but it's almost impossible to find any male! reader x Spencer Reid content. Which can be very dysphoric 😵‍💫. Which sucks! Bc holy hell, there are some fuckinnn amazing writers out there writing fanfics.

So now, I have come to you, an amazing writer out here writing fanfics, to beg ask if ud be down to write any kind of oneshot with Spencer Reid dating a male reader! It honestly doesn't have to be anything specific - romantic, angsty, enemies to lovers, slow burn, whatever peaks ur interest atm!

I would just love, love to have that content with Spence & a male reader if you're down for the task! Thank you so so muchh 💓. Hope ur having a wonderful morning / afternoon / evening !

A/N:im sorry this took so long!! I’ve been busy working (blegh) and I wanted to write something sweet for you!! I’m happy you’ve come to terms with being ftm!! As a cis identifying person myself I can’t say that I know how it feels, but I am VERY happy that you’re more comfortable with your identity!! Also never worry about being too “crazy” over Spencer I’ve been obsessed with him since I was about 5 or 6 (yes it’s been a long time)!! I’ll try more to write in a more gender neutral way when writing anything reader insert related that way you can enjoy my writing without feeling left out or anything!! Always let me know if there are things I can do better <3

Tw: maybe some cursing but overall should be wholesome

Wc: 0.54k

Criminal Minds Masterlist

Spencer Reid often came home dejected after a case gone wrong, it was often that he came home tired but happy after a successful case. It wasn’t often, however, that he came home excited for a break; but then again he hadn’t had a boyfriend to come home to on previous breaks. Now, as you watch him walk through the front door of your shared apartment, you can’t help but grin at the absolutely goofy look on his face.

“Emily gave us all 4 weeks off to rest after our latest case, so that means I get four WHOLE weeks of you to myself! Isn’t that great?” He lets out a giggle after he finishes speaking, putting his bag down on the kitchen counter. You didn’t even have to ask him why he was so giddy, he answered unprompted.

“It is great!” You try to match his energy, only seeing him this excited for the first time since you’ve met. He brings you into his embrace, hugging you so tightly that you think you might die if he squeezed you any tighter. “So what are your plans now that you’re a free man for four whole weeks?”

“Well we could go to the park and play chess, or stay here and play chess but I think the sunlight would be good for both of us. Or we could go to the movies, or take a class together, or…”

“Your plans are to just have dates with me every single day?” You ask, quirking an eyebrow.

He nods as if the answer is the most obvious, concrete fact in the universe. He looks at you, not as if you’re dumb, but as if to say ‘duh what else would I be planning to do?’.

The two of you move to sit on the couch, enveloped in each other as he talks about the many, many dates you’re going to go on now that he’s free from his time constricting job. “What if I don’t wanna do those things?” You ask playfully. He shrugs.

“It doesn’t matter what we do, as long as I get to do it with you”.

“Oh?” You look at him as if he said something scandalous, “I didn’t know you had that big of a crush on me.”

He shoves you gently, rolling his eyes at your attempt to joke off his sweet words.

“You’re joking but studies have found that couples who have regular date nights more often result in higher relationship satisfaction, better communication, and a stronger emotional connection. Us going on dates during these four weeks will be better for us in the long run.”

You don’t reply, or interrupt. It’s always amusing to listen to him ramble on and on about facts that he finds interesting or applicable to the conversation. And all it does is make you fall more in love with him, seeing how serious he is about your relationship working out in the future. He says that he loves you often, but it’s things like this; seeing and listening to how much he genuinely cares about your relationship.

Being the boyfriend of a pretty boy genius has its perks, and how much he cares about you compared to others is definitely one of them.

#criminal minds x reader #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds #criminal minds drabble #criminal minds fluff #cm oneshots #cm x reader #cm spencer reid #cm #cm dribbles #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #cm fluff #spencer reid x male reader

[hyuckbeam]

try again

things don’t seem to be going the way you’ve been wanting them to go the entire week. to make things even worse than they already are, your boyfriend (or rather ex-boyfriend) dumped you in front of the entire campus. you can’t seem to lift yourself up and try again — well, that is until he comes into your life.

pairing | college barista!jeno x college student!reader

genre | fluff, angst, college au

warnings + notes | afab!reader, a bit of cursing, ex-bf being a red flag, mentions of alcohol, roomie!ningning, that’s p much it!

wc | 5.1k words

a/n | im super duper excited to finally release this chapter of the tttc series!! personally, i just like the overall flow of this one and i hope u do too!! let me know what u think abt it :> as always, rbs, likes, and feedback are appreciated!

song recs | all 4 nothing - lauv, the loneliest time - carly rae jepsen, tfw (that feeling when) - enhypen

tttc m.list, main m.list

the first time you met him was seriously by coincidence.

your stomach had you hurling for the past few days, not to mention how sore you were from phys-ed class yesterday. you still remember asking your coach to let you off the hook for the day, but they denied your request – oh well, they were never a great teacher anyways, you think to yourself. your own boyfriend hadn't even checked up on you once to ask if you were doing alright. it’s not like you were going to burden him or anything… you just wanted a little bit of reassurance to get you through the week. was that so much to ask for?

as if all odds were finally in your favor, a light buzz from your phone snaps you out of your thoughts. you pick it up to see your boyfriend’s caller id. maybe this was it. maybe the gods finally heard your pleas to make life just a teensy bit bearable for you.

“hey, i think we should meet up for a moment. do you have time?” is the first thing he’s told you all week and for some reason, instead of the comfort you were anticipating, all you felt was sheer annoyance. not even a simple how are you? the lack of emotion he’s displayed just breaks your heart even more than it already is.

you still manage to reply, mimicking his dry tone instinctively. “yeah, where?” it's faint, but you’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a little hope in you. maybe he wants to meet in person to give you a hug, maybe a kiss? you desperately want that to be true.

“at the campus open grounds, you know, the one near that coffee shop?” he suggests through the call and you once your head despite him not even being able to see you. “okay, i’ll see you then.”

you couldn’t even believe he just asked if you knew where the open grounds were located. doesn’t he remember that’s the place he asked you out? perhaps it was an important event only to you. the thought manages to send a dry chuckle out your throat — it already didn’t seem like your little meetup with him was going to be of any help to your mood.

not much time had passed by the time you arrived at the chosen spot, setting your sights on a nearby bench to rest your feet as you waited.

a lot of people crowded the grounds today. it wasn’t usually this jam-packed, but you suppose the bright and sunny weather encouraged people to roam around outside. after all, the sky hadn’t been this pretty shade of vibrant blue in a while. you’re thankful the weather is good — at least something seems to be turning out well today.

your boyfriend arrives, albeit later than expected, even though he was the one who asked you to come out in the first place. you had been scorched by the sun’s rays for over ten minutes now, wanting nothing more than to just head back indoors.

“sorry i uh… took a while. i’ll make this short.” he states awkwardly, a bit too much considering you were dating. “i’m breaking up with you. i just fell out of love, you know that feeling, right?” your relationship was never the best, this was inevitably going to happen someday, but hearing it out loud was what did it for you.

out loud… wait. you look around to find practically everyone around you whispering to themselves, watching the scene between you and your boyfriend unfold — eating it up like it's the plot of a famous drama.

the shame, the anger, the embarrassment, you just wanted to get away from it all. the hope you gained earlier was all an illusion. your days weren’t going to get any better as the week just became like the stuff that comes out of nightmares. you utterly felt sick to the bottom of your stomach. not only did you get dumped, you got dumped in front of so many people.

without saying another word to your boyfriend — or should you say ex-boyfriend — you grab your things and take a run towards the nearest alleyway that just happened to be the one at the back of the coffee shop.

you crouch down to the floor, curling up into yourself as best as you could before finally letting emotions overtake you, just enough to calm you down. surely no one would find you here if you let out a tear or two, right?

wrong. whoever put that idea to your brain was a big dumbass (whoever being you) because a boy emerges through the shop’s backdoor and into the alleyway, presumably taking out the trash since he’s holding a familiar-looking black plastic bag. however, he quickly stops in his tracks, noticing your presence when there was usually no one else there. the alley was pretty dark after all – it gave most people the creeps but here you were, willingly occupying a small portion of the horrid area while bawling your eyes out. “um… i don’t usually do this, but do you want a cup of hot chocolate?” the guy offers, rubbing his nape sheepishly after noticing your tear-stained cheeks.

you can’t help but silently thank him for not bringing up your appearance in the conversation. you probably looked like a disheveled tomato by now, prompting you to wipe your tears with your arm to at least make yourself look presentable. “actually… yeah, that would be nice.”

you got a better look at him now that you were seated in the cafe, the warm lighting easing your nerves little by little. as expected of him, there’s a welcoming aura that surrounds his figure, a calm smile that’s sure to brighten up anyone’s day (including yours), a tiny little mole below his eye, and the shiniest hair that made you want to touch it — that probably wasn’t the most appropriate thought you’ve had all day.

what you didn’t expect was that he’d actually give that cup of hot chocolate free of charge. you didn’t even know who he was (and probably vice versa). still, it made you gain back a little bit of hope that was lost. with a soft smile now spread across your lips, you begin to ponder that maybe today could still turn out to be better for you.

-0-

the rest of your day goes better than anticipated, and you’re beginning to think that barista you met at the coffee shop is some sort of miracle worker or a lucky charm. even if he wasn’t, you sure do feel lucky you ran into him – though the situation wasn’t exactly the most ideal in hindsight. still, the thought manages to keep your spirits high all the way until you reach back to your dorm.

“ning yizhuo!” your sudden call turns two heads in the room, one being the said person, and the other being her cousin, renjun. the latter often came by and you were quite used to his presence and practically saw him as a brother.

“oh no, not the government name!” a sarcastic tone laces your roommate’s voice. truthfully, she had already heard about your breakup and was expecting you to be bawling your eyes right about now… except… you weren’t. in fact, you had a beaming smile displayed for everyone to see. weird – renjun had probably thought the exact same thing as they gave each other identical looks.

this goes completely unnoticed by you, dropping your bags before making yourself comfortable by the couch. “seriously, you guys won’t believe what happened earlier.”

“... you got dumped?” renjun voices out slowly, almost as if he’s testing the waters still.

“no! i mean yes, but that’s not what i was going to talk about.”

“why aren’t we talking about that? your ex was a douche- i can finally talk shit about him!” ningning cheers.

renjun clears his throat, “more importantly though, are you really fine?”

his words linger in your head for a bit. were you really okay? genuinely speaking, you didn’t feel much – probably because you expected your relationship to fall out eventually. both of you wanted different things and came to realize that. there was an underlying feeling of gratitude that your ex finally cut through the cracks of your bond, but you could definitely do without all the public shame though. that might continue to haunt you, but what’s done, was done.

“mhm, i’m really fine. i’ll get over him sooner or later.” you answer softly. both renjun and ningning could tell you were certain, silently agreeing within themselves to drop the topic completely. “but gosh, i probably wouldn’t have been able to make it through the day if it weren’t for that barista guy in the coffee shop.

you see renjun’s ears visibly perk up at the mention of a barista there, like he already knew who you were referring to. “do you mean the guy who works there? y’know, the one who kind of looks like a fluffy white dog and has a mole under his eye?” god, was he spot on with the description too.

“that’s him!” you gasp out, still in slight shock. you suppose renjun frequents the shop – especially since that’s where he and his girlfriend go to study. “huang renjun, are you psychic?”

that seems to bring out a snort in him, “you just knew that now?” he remarks rather playfully, “actually, his name is jeno. we’ve been friends for a pretty long while now.”

ah, so his name is jeno. you wouldn’t tell anyone, but you mayhaps ingrained that piece of information straight to your heart.

the second time you met him, you just wanted to see him one more time after.

ever since you learned about his name from renjun, he seemed to pop up in almost every conversation you engaged with. was he always this popular or were you just really ignorant to the people around you? it’s crazy how much you’ve been thinking about him ever since.

“put a finger down if you’ve gotten butterflies from a stranger!” frankly, you’re startled at the command, forgetting that you were in the middle of a ‘never have i ever’ game with your group of friends. jeno just so happened to be there too since your friend groups actually aligned well within each other. with him personally being around, you couldn’t seem to focus on anything except him. it’s the nudge ningning aims at your shoulder that gets you placing a finger down, remembering you’re still part of the game. you suppose your brief interaction with jeno does count as part of this…

this small action had the entire group cooing. it was a bit overwhelming, not knowing what to do when so many eyes were set on you. wanting to brush it off, you simply give a shy smile to the crowd, persuading them to not go any further and just continue on with the game. luckily, that’s exactly what they do and you’re met with sweet relief – finally letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in the first place.

still, your gaze shifts back at jeno. had he realized you were the person that bawled their eyes out in the back alleyway of the coffee shop? had he realized you were the one he offered a free cup of hot chocolate to? had he realized you were staring at him like he held the entire universe in his hands?

but most importantly, had you realized he was looking back at you the same way? no? maybe that’s for the best.

the air was getting too stuffy in the room for your liking, you had to excuse yourself out for some fresh air. it was already pretty dark out and you weren’t sure when your friends would finally call it a night. frankly, the breeze was much colder now (and you kind of regret not bringing a jacket out), but at the same time it was calming and quiet – a sharp contrast to the lively atmosphere held inside.

that serene silence was cut off by the faint sound of footsteps coming from the main door, jeno’s figure coming into view. what was he doing out here?

“hey… inside got too much, huh?” guess you and him share that opinion as you nod in agreement.

“a little?” your nose scrunches up at the thought. “i don’t usually mind it but it does get me swamped sometimes.”

a small hum is what comes out as a reply, the both of you opting for the comfortable silence the night bears. a few ruffling sounds are heard coming from jeno and before you could ask him what was making the noise, you felt warmth embrace you from behind. it was a jacket. not just any jacket, his jacket.

“sorry, did i startle you? it’s just, you looked cold.” truth be told, you were far from cold after his gesture. isn’t this something someone would do when they’re in a relationship? why was jeno doing this… with you?

it was then you unconsciously already had your mind made up. you weren’t going to acknowledge it yet, but you were completely over your ex.

-0-

there was absolutely no chance of you getting sleep that night, especially after the events beforehand. though you enjoyed every moment you spent with jeno, you kinda preferred having a full night’s worth of sleep right about now. it’s a good thing ningning was able to grace you with a cup of coffee as soon as you woke up — you don’t think you would have gotten out of bed otherwise.

“seriously, what’s up with you two!” ningning squints her eyes with suspicion glazed over them, trying to get some sort of answer regarding your situation with jeno.

“it’s not what you think it is.”

“then what is it?”

huh. she had a point there. just what is your relationship with lee jeno? it was a little foggy to yourself as well. the both of you never had much conversations, but when you did, they managed to send cupid arrows straight to your heart without fail. this was so much unlike your past relationship. when was the last time you ever felt this way?

“it’s just small conversations, that’s all it is.” you finally reply, words acting more like a reminder to yourself rather than an actual response to ningning’s query.

“is that really true?” your roommate frowns with a sigh, “you know, i noticed the way he looks at you. it’s different from others.”

“you’re probably mistaking his kindness for something else, ning. i doubt this’ll even lead to anything.” your statement is brief, but ningning manages to catch the light thread of hope in your words, understanding you wished it would lead to more. that’s all she needed to know. she knew better than to push you just to ease her own mind from the heapload of questions she has stored away.

“just know, whatever happens, i’ll always support you, okay?” she smiles brightly like the gentle rays of sunshine that slip through your dorm’s sill curtains. “okay.”

the third time you met him, you wished for nothing more but to remain in his company.

it’s just midday and you already feel like falling asleep. naturally, your feet bring you to the campus coffee shop, not registering the fact that jeno’s probably working his shift. in this moment, you were too sleep deprived to care.

“hi, can i get one chocolate chip frappucino-” you finally look up to see jeno’s familiar face right in front of you, recallings of the night before plaguing your thoughts and sending a surge of adrenaline in your body. suddenly, you were wide awake and could probably last the whole day with or without the coffee you were about to purchase.

“y/n, it’s nice to see you.” he greets softly, eyes scanning your features to find dark bags staining your usually lively eyes. “i think i’ll add another shot of espresso to your drink… you might need it.” he mutters out, more so to himself.

you can’t help but smile, finding his slight worry for your well-being to be endearing. “i’ll add that espresso shot then.” you chuckle, catching him off guard as he didn’t expect you to hear him.

“i’ll make sure to prepare your drink well.” he finally replies, punching in your order as you move to find a seat to occupy while you wait.

it doesn’t take long for jeno to approach your table, a drink with a swirly straw in hand. to your surprise, instead of simply dropping off the drink, he takes the seat in front of yours before setting it down. “i’m actually on my break right now but i wanted to talk to you. i hardly see you on campus after all. aside from when you visit here, that is.” it’s almost laughable at how predictable your response is to anything he does, feeling your stomach gain the now familiar fluttery sensation you always experience. when it comes to him, it seems to never get old, but none of that was the main point.

he wanted to talk to you. he went out of his way for you. he could be spending his break time elsewhere, but he’s here with you. perhaps you were overanalyzing his actions, yet you can’t stop the heat that creeps up your cheeks.

“sure, take a seat- i mean, you already did but-”

he chuckles, a slip of a smile coming into view. “your drink by the way.” he motions at the sweet drink you ordered. “i added more chocolate chips for you too.”

“spoiling me now, are we?”

“you caught me!”

talking to him just felt so natural. there was never a dull moment, and when silence would fill up the air, it was never thick and heavy, but light and freeing. you quietly sip your drink to these thoughts, occasionally wondering if this would be what it felt like if you two started dating- you’re thinking too ahead for someone who hasn’t even come to terms with their own feelings. you should just enjoy your time with him.

-0-

since then, you and jeno have grown closer to the point where you frequently talk on the phone at night. neither of your paths often crossed during the day, so these calls definitely made up for that – at least for you. through them, you’ve come to learn that jeno usually plays video games until the crack of dawn, sometimes even streaming his screen for you to watch. tonight, you decided to prepare ramen for yourself so you had something to eat while watching him.

“what flavor are you making today?” his voice is a lot huskier than it usually is during the night.

though this isn’t something new to you, there’s still that cozy feeling that almost feels domestic, and sometimes, you can’t help but squeal to yourself and kick your feet in the air. ningning even asked if you were alright because she thought you had gone crazy after hearing you from her own room.

“i think this one is cheese flavored? i’m not really sure since ning buys our groceries.”

“you should prepare me some when i come over next time. i wanna try some too.”

did he want to come over? your mind immediately fills with the idea of jeno visiting your dorm (or humble abode as ningning likes to call it). he’s seen glimpses of it as your background when you’d facetime each other, but what would he think about seeing it in person? there’s that famous saying that your home reflects your personality, after all. you don’t realize it, but you go dead silent, completely encapsulated by your imagination.

“hello? you’re still there, right?” he calls out for you, it’s much softer this time as if he’s checking up on you in case something happened.

“yeah, yeah i’m here. come over next time, then.”

he does, in fact, come over as soon as he got the chance to. honestly, he resembled an eager golden retriever exploring a new area the entire time you showed him around your dorm, having only seen it through a screen. on some occasions, he would point out a random trinket you had on display, saying it looked like you. he said the same about your potted succulent and you’re not sure how you feel about that one, but nonetheless, he seemed to be enjoying himself and that’s all that mattered. you were practically worried over nothing the other night.

“didn’t you say you were going to prepare me a little treat too?” jeno questions, finally finished with going around the dorm room.

“hm? oh, right the ramen-” you recall, immediately taking a few steps to the kitchen to prepare what you had promised him. “make yourself comfortable, i won’t take long!” it really doesn’t take much to make instant ramen, after all.

once it finishes boiling, you carefully transfer it to one of those gold-colored, aluminum pots to keep the ramen warm – making sure to add a few toppings to the dish to make it a bit more filling.

you make your way to the living room, seeing jeno on his phone by the couch. there’s that domestic feeling worming its way up on you again that has you wondering how it’d be like if jeno was your boyfriend. would he come visit over often? would you be able to visit his dorm sometime? the thought continues to remain on your mind for the entirety of jeno’s stay.

you really wanted this moment to become just as frequent as your nightly calls with him.

the most recent time you met up with him, you finally acted on what you’ve been holding in all this time.

ningning had invited you out to a party, luring you in by slipping that a certain someone was also going to be there. all jokes aside, you knew she also just wanted you to have fun, it’s been a while since you’ve gone out to a party anyways.

the event wasn’t anything fancy, your average college party hosted by one of the frats. you wore a black mini dress, one you bought but never got the chance to use until now. it fit you perfectly in all the right areas, but it took a lot of convincing from ningning’s part for you to actually buy it. you surely had to thank her now or else you wouldn’t have anything to wear for tonight.

“you’re finally wearing it!” it seems you weren’t the only one excited to see yourself wearing the dress as your roommate’s eyes sparkle at your outfit. “here, here. i’m letting you borrow these too since they match.” she hands over a pair of black earrings made with sequins and glass beads. it looked perfect for the look.

“thanks, it isn’t too much, right?”

“not at all! plus, it’s a party. who cares what others think- what’s important is that you look good!”

this makes you let out a small laugh, she was right. she always is. “okay then, let’s go?”

“lets!” ningning takes her purse from the coffee table before linking her free arm around yours. “we should get going if we don’t want to be late.”

it’s a good thing you both left when you did since the two of you arrived just on time. the party had already started a few minutes ago with some people already wasted (they probably drank before everything even started…). it doesn’t take long for you and ningning to manage through the sea of people, finally spotting a couple of familiar faces by the corner of the room.

“hey, you two made it!” renjun beams alongside his girlfriend, a plastic red cup in hand containing who knows what. “oh y/n, jeno’s by the kitchen. he was asking where you were before you arrived.”

“oh? thanks jun, i’ll go see what’s up.” you offer him a small smile before leaving ningning’s side and trying to find where the kitchen was located. after a bit of roaming around, you eventually find the boy you’re looking for.

cheeks flushed, dazed eyes, and a lopsided expression. jeno was probably no where clear from sober by the looks of it. guess you weren’t going to drink today, especially when your friend isn’t in the right state of mind.

“jeno? renjun said you were looking for me.” you call out to him softly in hopes he could hear you through the music that’s blasting on the speaker system.

by the sound of your voice, his head quickly turns in your direction. “y/n! i’ve bween looking por you everywhere!” he immediately wraps his arms around your figure, burying his head in the crook of your neck. your cheeks have flushed now too, not from alcohol, but because of the way he’s hugging you.

you never imagined jeno to be big on skinship while under the influence – well, you’ve never dealt with a tipsy jeno in general until now, so this was truly going to be one hell of an experience.

“have you, really?” you question him, patting his hair. “i’m here now though. did you need me for something?”

you feel him nod against your shoulder, “i wanted to kiss you but you were nooowhere to be found, and then renjun gave me a drink, and then haechan started laughing, and then i started laughing-”

he was beginning to ramble off and probably won’t remember any of the things he’s telling you right now. would that also include how he just confessed he wanted to kiss you? you know jeno’s just drunk, but there’s a part of you that hopes he wouldn’t forget that. you urge him to stand up straight for a moment before letting him lean onto you for support. the best you could do was probably have him sit outside for some fresh air (and maybe a cup of water).

-0-

the two of you are now seated silently next to one another with jeno’s head resting on your shoulder, and it’s reminiscent of the first time you actually had a proper conversation with him. the night was just like this, and yet, so many things have happened already since then.

“hey, about what i said earlier…” oh, he sobers up rather quickly. “y’know, about the wanting to kiss you and all that.”

you turn to face him with a bittersweet expression, the nearby streetlamp placing a soft glow over your features and jeno wonders where that solemn look on your face is coming from. “hm? no it’s alright. i’m sure we all say things we don’t mean when we get drunk. it’s normal.”

“well no, because, i did mean it.”

“that’s okay- huh?”

“i like you, y/n.” although its dark, you know he’s staring at you, waiting for you to respond.

“i… i do too, but we just met like a month ago.” you hadn’t even come to terms with your own feelings yet. “wouldn’t we be, i don’t know, going a little too fast? maybe both of us aren’t currently in the right mind.”

“that just proves my point even more. in a mere month of us getting to knowing each other, i’ve come to learn so much about you, grown so fond of you, and… i just want to be with you. trust me, i had a lot of time to think, but if you need more time. i’ll wait for you.”

now you were conflicted. did you really need more time to understand your own emotions?it’s not like you hid your affection for the boy, instead, it was quite the contrary. people started looking for you through jeno and others asked you about jeno’s whereabouts. its as if you two were now two peas in a pod, and everyone knew. were you going to break something you cherished just because you felt like your emotions hadn’t been sorted, when in reality, have been perfectly laid out right in front of you all along?

“no. no need.” your eyes crease as you smile at him, “i know what i want, and it’s you. it’s always been you.”

he doesn’t need any more validation than this, snaking his arm around your waist before pulling you close, lips barely touching. “can i kiss you?”

“please.” you surely don’t need to tell jeno twice, wasting no time as he quickly locks your lips with his own in such a way that you’d think he’s been pining over you longer than you had originally thought. you hadn’t drank a drop the entire night, but you felt so giddy just kissing him.

jeno pulls away first, and you already feel breathless from such a short kiss. slowly, he brings a hand up to cup your cheek, thumb rubbing small, comforting circles onto your skin. “should we head back now?” honestly, you didn’t want to just yet, still unable to hide your smile from the lingering touch of his lips. still, you knew better than to stay out for too long.

“yeah, the others are probably wondering where we went.” and with that, he pulls himself off the ground, extending a hand out to help you get on your feet.

“let’s go back in… slowly, okay?” you giggle out, still wanting to cherish the moment with him.

“how could i say no to you?”

eventually, you do make it back into the party, quickly spotting your group of friends.

the sight of you both sporting puffy lips and rosy tinted cheeks, not to mention your lipstick smudged on the corner of jeno’s lips had everyone raising a brow. neither of you had noticed that because it was so dark out… um, oopsies?

ningning manages to connect all the dots together, a loud gasp erupting from her that startles the rest of the group. “OMG DON’T TELL ME! no wait actually please do confirm- PLEASE TELL ME YOU’RE TOGETHER?”

you and jeno look at each other with a knowing look, feeling his hand reach out for yours before you happily reply, “yeah, we are.”

taglist | @haeravlgs, @matchahyuck, @vantxx95, @ahnneyong, @lixxbr0wnie, @legbouk, @rocarecs, @winwonies, @gfrdistance

— lmk through an ask if you’d like to be added!

tags !!

#—hyuckbeam #—tttc #tttc: try again #nct fluff #nct angst #jeno #jeno fluff #jeno angst #nct #nct dream #nct aus #nct dream aus #fluff #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct drabbles #nct dream drabbles #nct fanfic #nct dream fanfic #nct imagines #nct dream imagines

[feelbokkie]

힘들어지고 지쳐도 포기하지 마 (Even if it's hard and tiring, don't give up)

☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️

**Requested**

hey hope ur having a great day!

i dunno if ur taking requests but could u possibly write an angst request with skz? (any member)

something along the lines of the reader having a terrible childhood and having to go through trauma and really dark days and maybe opening up to them about it? or maybe the member finding them unconscious due to something and then opening up about it?

ONLY IF UR COMFORTABLE PLZ

ig I'm asking for it is cause I'm not doing so good and just need to feel something lmao

genre: angsts, slight fluff

pov: 2nd person

description: After a run in with a customer who resembles your abusive father, you've been on edge. Your boyfriend Felix notices something is wrong but doesn't say anything until it's too late.

pairing: bf!Felix x reader

warnings: mention of abuse, swearing, mention of childhood trauma, mention of vomiting and not eating

word count: 936 (unedited)

a/n: I had to draw from real life for this one 🙃

©feelbokkie (2023) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.

You hadn't seen your father since you were 15 when walked about of your life for the second and final time. He was on the other side of the country so there was no chance of you running into him ever again. And you were better off for it. It took time but after years of living in fear and finally coping with all that happened throughout your childhood. By the time you met and started dating Felix, you were a seemingly well adjusted adult. He's never met the side of you that would live in fear everyday.

That was until Sunday. While at your cashiering job a customer came up who eerily like your dad. You knew deep down that it wasn't him. He was just a man who had the same body shape, facial features, tone of voice, accent, and even gap in his teeth. Your body froze and you functioned like a robot for the remainder of your shift, trying to keep your cool and to get him out of the store as soon as possible.

That one small interaction with a stranger was enough to open the floodgates on memories and emotions you didn't even know you were repressing. It was now Friday and you hadn't gone into work for the rest of the week; you called your boss and claimed to be sick with the flu. You might as well be sick, you were so anxious that you could hardly keep anything down.

"Y/n?" Felix's voice softly call through your apartment. You have your noise canceling headphones on as loudly as your ears could tolerate and didn't hear him.

Felix had been asking to come over to see you all week. You told him the same lie that you were sick and didn't want to get sick too. Normally he wouldn't care and just come over anyway, but he and the boys were in the middle of a comeback so he stayed away this time. But he knows how quickly you recovered from cold and the fact that you were on day 5 and still feeling poorly worried him, so he came over anyway.

Felix's head pokes in your bedroom door to check if you were asleep or not. Seeing you wrapped up in your duvet made him think that you actually were asleep. He tiptoes in and sets a bag down beside the bed and starts to empty the contents on the bedside table. He bought some medicines he was worried that you didn't have just in case.

He looked over to your supposedly sleeping body and saw the top of your head poking through your blanket cocoon. He gently shoves his hand in the blanket to find your forehead and take your temperature. The sudden weight of his hand on your head causes you to scream and bury yourself further into the blanket, knocking your headphones off in the process. Felix quickly pulls his hand away.

"Sorry, sorry. It's just me. I was just checking on you, didn't mean to scare you." Your heart was pounding so loudly that you barely could hear him.

When you don't respond to him, or even move from your position, he gets more worried. He could see the blanket shaking around your body. He climbs up on the bed and starts taking the blanket off of you. Not being fully there mentally and running on pure adrenaline, you pull the blanket closer to your body. Furrowing his eyebrows, Felix uses all of his strength to finally pull the blanket off of you. As soon as the protective cover is off of you, your arms fly to your head. The sound of you loudly crying and shaking worries Felix even more.

"Y/n? Hey what's wrong?" He throws the blanket aside and pulls you into a hug, trying to calm you down.

"F-Felix?" You hiccup, the smell of cologne finally pulls you back to reality. You slightly pull away so you can look at Felix. He's wearing a face mask but you can tell by the look in his eyes how scared he is for you.

It's just Felix. You're safe. He can't hurt you.

"Yeah, it's just me. I've got you," He pulls you back in and rubs your back.

Once Felix calms you down, he pulls your head off of his chest and wipes your face, cleaning up the tears, both dried and fresh. You tell him everything. About how much of a monster your father was. How any little thing used to set him off and you were often the target of his anger. How many of the scars that littered your body were because of him. How he abandoned you not only once, but twice and he would come back and ruin yours again. How all of this was triggered by the customer you could have sworn wsa your father. By the end of the story, Felix was also in tears and confused anyone could hurt someone was loving and amazing as you.

"Thank you for telling me. Would... would it help if you stayed with me? At the dorm I mean." He pulled off his face mask the second he realized you weren't actually sick.

"M-maybe. Sorry for freaking out on you like that." You mumble

"Don't be sorry. Your reaction is justified I promise that I'll protect you. You didn't deserve " He grabs both of your cheeks, and places a kiss on your forehead.

"Thank you Felix,"

"My pleasure. And just a heads up, if I see your dad, I'm drop kicking him straight to the grave."

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

Permanent Taglist

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[akiraruru]

Hi I saw you was in need of ideas 😁 and I saw you like ragbros (like me) how about hc (platonic)where they have a little sister (like 18-19year old) who is also adopted like kaeya and is also traumatized before she came to dawn winery and she is more traumatized. She is also super powerful like she is a mage (like in historical manhwa) and has electro vision is also a member of knights of favonis. Sorry I went for too much details 😅

If you don't write platonic hc, how about hurt to comfort fic of diluc/ kaeya/Zhongli where the reader thinks he ib love with someone else (like jean for diluc rosaria for kaeya guzhiong for Zhongli).

Sorry for long ask. Take care 😘

A/n: sadly I'm not very good at platonic stuff, hope u like this oneshot tho!

Included: Kaeya, gn reader, Rosaria

Cw/s: mentions of drinking, angst, possibly ooc, I suck at writing angst

Kaeya had always been passionate about the things he loves. Though, recently everything has been going much worse than before, it's like his path throughout life has become rocky, rather than ups and downs, it has really been down these past few days. He went out drinking more and more, constantly visiting his brother's tavern, chugging down beer down his throat hoping to wash down his foul feeling.

You understand what was Kaeya's feeling and you always have, you gave him time, time to think carefully and to rest his mind and body. Though you never expected it to come to this, you never expected it to become this bad; you felt sorry for him.

You tried to talk to him about it to at least help ease some of his foul feelings yet every time you do he just tells you

"I'm fine"

"I'm okay by myself"

"There's no need"

In such a tired tone, he always pushes you away. Why? Why didn't he want your help? Maybe he just wanted some time... But didn't you already give him a week? All these thoughts and questions run through your head all at the same time it's giving you a headache.

During his time at the tavern, he has encountered Rosaria multiple times in a row and yes, you have witnessed some of those times and nothing bad seems to be happening. After all those encounters with each other, Rosaria made the first move; starting the conversation first.

He knew Rosaria, a close friend of that he hasn't connected to in a long while.

"Hey, you alright?" Rosaria asks.

She looked down at the blue haired knight that had his head laying on the table, beer in hand.

"Hmm... no" Kaeya responds, his words coming out wobbly due to the alcohol.

Chats between Rosaria and Kaeya was pretty constant again, sharing small talk whenever they passed each other, talking during breaks... Of course you took notice and didn't seem to mind, I mean, they're friends after all. And they haven't talked to each other for a while so it's understandable.

It's been weeks and kaeya has started to feel better, more upright and was coming back to his usual smug personality. You were happy, proud even, but you felt a little... what do you call it? Jealous? No, that can't be right. You? Jealous of who?

Maybe it's because it was Rosaria that helped Kaeya more than you did, it's great that she helped but during those times, why did Kaeya only talk to Rosaria about it? Why not you? He always pushes you away but why not to Rosaria either? Is there something special about her? Questions are running through your mind again.

He's been out of the house recently too, often meeting up with Rosaria. At this point, you think he sees her more than you, could it be that he fell out of love? Too many questions and possibilities are in your mind, overthinking every little thing.

You decided to confront him during dinner.

"Kaeya.. is there something wrong?" You ask worryingly.

"Nothing's wrong. Why?" Kaya responds.

"It's just that uhm... You've been.. I don't know, distant?" You furrow your brows slightly as you speak.

"Distant, how?" Kaeya tilts his head.

You take a deep breath thinking about saying it or not.

"Do you not love me anymore?" You finally asked.

"What? Of course I love you, why did you think that?" Kaeya replies.

"You've been hanging out with Rosaria a lot too..." You fidget with your fingers.

"Ahh, I see now" He chuckled.

"Wanna know why?" Kaeya smiles.

You nod in reply, desperate for answers. You watched as he got up towards the calendar and pointed out your anniversary and.. oh it's today. Wait, it's today?

Kaeya goes to a cabinet and pulls out two boxes wrapped delicately, each of different colors with a ribbon wrapped around it like a bow, a letter on top of the two boxes.

"What's this?" You ask, inspecting the box.

"I wanted to make up for all the things you did for me" Kaeya smiles softly.

The letter contained 3 paragraphs about his undying love for you, alongside a kiss mark on the bottom.

"I needed some help so I went to Rosaria" He explains.

You open the boxes, careful not to damage it. The 1st box contains a silver/gold (what color you want) necklace below a tulip, the necklace has your birthstone as it's pendant, shaped into a heart, your name and Kaeya's was faintly sketched onto the back of the pendant.

2nd box contained earrings that matched the necklace, right below a rose.

"Wow... I.." You were left utterly speechless.

Now you were the one feeling guilty, especially since it's your anniversary and you don't have nothing for him

"Don't worry about your gift, you being here is enough" Kaeya brings you into a tight, warm embrace.

#kaeya #kaeya alberich #kaeya x reader #kaeya fluff #kaeya x reader fluff #kaeya genshin #kaeya alberich x reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff #fluff #kaeya x you #kaeya x y/n #kaeya angst #kaeya x reader angst #kaeya hurt/comfort #ry fics

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Hi

Can u pls write a tom hiddleston fic where he and his wife are happily married with many children and his wife plays jemma in agents of shield and every cast member talks about theie relationship and the fans stan them too.

I hav had this idea for a long time now

Hav a great week

Living the good life

PAIRING | Husband!Tom Hiddleston x Wife!Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 1.2K

SUMMARY | Life with your husband Tom is pretty freaking perfect, and he wants to show you every single day how much he cares about you and your three angels. The rest of the world agrees with him, and you two are absolute couple goals to all of your fans.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Mentions of breastfeeding a baby,

A/N | Thank you for this super sweet request Nonnie, I hope you enjoyed what I did with this one! 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💚

Divider is made by @firefly-graphics | 18+ banner made by yours truly

It's been a long day on the set of Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. You're looking forward to going home, where you will see your husband, Tom, your twin girls, Lily and Aster, and your youngest son, Sage.

What you didn't know, however, is that Tom is planning to surprise you on set after this day, and he's taking your three angels with him.

You just finished one of your last scenes for the day, and you're walking off the set when you suddenly hear a familiar voice on stage. You turn around to see Aster running your way, closely followed by Lily.

''Mommy, mommy!'' Aster shrieks as she runs your way, and you crouch with a big smile, your arms open wide to catch your girls in your arms as they get to you.

''Hi, troublemakers!'' you say as they fall into your arms and hug you close, but some of your co-stars also walk your way, ready to greet the girls. Everyone loves them, as well as Sage because they are all so kind and loving to everyone.

''Did you happen to bring your Dad as well, or did the two of you get over here all by yourselves?'' you ask, but they both shake their heads.

''He's over there, Mommy!'' Lily says, pointing to Tom, holding Sage on his hip, who looks adorable together.

You get up and walk over to Tom, your girls being taken care of by some of your other co-stars so you can greet the two of them.

''Hi, Love,'' you say as you walk over to Tom, and he plants a soft, sweet kiss on your lips, making your heart flutter.

''Hi, Beautiful,'' Tom says as you pull apart, a smile dancing around his lips as he gets a good look at you, but Sage starts to get a little impatient when you give all your attention to his Dad.

''Somebody can't wait to cuddle his Mommy, huh?'' you coo at the little guy, and he bounces happily in your arms after you've taken him from Tom's arms.

''Thank you so much for dropping by with them; I believe I only have a few scenes left before I can finally go home,'' you tell Tom, and he can see the exhaustion settling on your face.

''It's okay. All you have to do is get through these last few scenes, and then I'll take you home for a relaxing bath. Maybe I'll even join you,'' he says with a wink, the thought already exciting you.

You give a few more kisses and blow a few raspberries on Sage's cheeks, and he giggles excitedly while kicking his feet in happiness, and it's honestly the cutest thing in the world.

One of your co-stars, Clark Gregg, walks over to you to notify you they're getting ready to film the last scene, a one-on-one between your two characters, but before he gets the chance, he's completely infatuated with your son, just like everyone else who sees him.

''Hi, Sage! How are you getting so big already?! And where are your sisters?'' he says after tickling his tummy, making him giggle again.

''Here we are, Uncle Clark!'' Aster says as the two girls run over to him, but Tom stops them before they bump into him.

''Easy, girls!'' he says with a massive smile on his face, and Clark crouches down to hug both girls and tell them that they, too, have grown a lot since he last saw them.

''Unfortunately, I have to borrow your Mom for one more scene today, but after that, she's all yours to take deal?'' he asks, and the girls agree.

''Bye, Mommy!'' they say as they wave at you after you've given Sage back to Tom after a few more kisses, and after one more peck on Tom's lips, you walk with Clark to film the scene.

Suddenly, the entire day is more than worth it, and the last scene is done perfectly in one take.

You're finally done with filming for a few months and planning to soak up every last second of it. Starting with a nice vacation to the U.K. with all five of you, you can all visit Tom's family for a few weeks.

After sleeping for most of the first few days - because jetlag is a real son-of-a-bitch - you're finally used to the time difference, and you can't help but want to stay in bed just a little longer this morning.

''Mornin' Beautiful,'' Tom says, his head perched on his hand as he leans his elbow on his pillow to get a good look at you. ''How did you sleep?''

''Like a log, honestly. But I'm feeling better now; I'm finally getting used to the time difference,'' you say with a small yawn, and just when you're about to pull Tom in for a few more cuddles, you hear Sage over the baby monitor.

''I'll get him; you can just stay here and get ready to feed him his breakfast,'' Tom says before leaving with a soft kiss on your lips, followed by a big smile. You place yourself against the headboard and remove your shirt so you can breastfeed a little easier.

After rearranging some pillows, you're finally comfortable, and that's when Tom walks in with Sage, who's still a little sleepy but also very hungry for breakfast.

At this point, you only breastfeed him in the mornings to give yourself a little relief, and it's also a good way of bonding with him while Tom gets the twins ready for breakfast and the rest of the day.

''Here you go, Beautiful. I'll see you when he's done,'' he says before handing little Sage to you and placing a few soft kisses on your head.

''I love you,'' you say, and he says it back before walking out the door and closing it behind him to give you two the privacy you need. When Sage is latched on and happily suckling away, you grab your phone to scroll through social media platforms, starting with Instagram.

Yesterday, you posted a photo of all five of you during the sunset at Tom's parent's house, and your Instagram has blown up over it, so you decided to look at the comments and maybe reply to some of them as well.

After reading and replying to many comments about how cute you all are, that you are couple goals, etc., you can tell Sage is done, and you're also feeling a lot better, so it's time to burp him and get both of you dressed and ready for the day.

After giving him a clean diaper, you dress him in grey coveralls and a beige shirt, and you get dressed in a grey lounge outfit before joining the rest for breakfast, which Tom has lovingly prepared for everyone.

''Good morning, everyone!'' you say with a slight yawn as you walk into the living room where everyone is still seated, and within no time, Sage is plucked from your arm and taken care of so you can cuddle with your little girls for a while.

''How did the two of you sleep?'' you ask Lily and Aster when they are sitting on either side of you, and they tell you all sorts of stories, from the joke Tom told them this morning as a part of their morning routine, to the way they helped him make breakfast and lots of other stories that come to their minds.

After that, it is time for breakfast, and you happily situate yourself on Tom's lap, his arm wrapped around your waist as he feeds you your breakfast, not caring about what anyone thinks. Right now is your Tom-time, and you plan on taking in every last second of it.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x female reader #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x y/n #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fluff