#days on the playground playing like we were in that world | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

strawberrysturniolo · 4 months

Note

i love the whole ‘best friends who ‘accidentally’ had sex’ type of concept and it really fits chris 😭 like imagine attending the end of the summer cookout marylou and jimmy have every year, you and chris decide to have wine coolers because why not?

next thing you know….

never grow up // chris sturniolo

summary: you and your childhood best friend reunite after months apart. after a couple of drinks, secrets start spilling, leading to lust that has been put on the back burner for years part 2

Chris and I have been inseparable since the day we met. With us living on the same street growing up, we were always together. If there was a picture taken of one of us as a kid, chances are the other one was in the background trying to photobomb.

Watching Chris and his brothers make the move to LA was hard. I sat back and supported my best friend, but it sucked knowing that our fault routine of being together after school and having sleepovers was coming to an end.

It all happened so fast. One minute he was there, and the next he was gone.

The love I have for Chris is unlike anything else in the world. I love Nick, and I adore Matt, but it’s different with Chris. We connect in different ways. We trust each other differently. I’ve never had a friendship like it, and I don’t think I ever will. We always joked about being in each other's weddings. He wanted me to stand with all the groomsmen, and I told him he could stand with the girls.

We had our lives planned together, and I never thought I’d have to see us fade away from each other.

We try to talk as much as possible, but with his ridiculous sleep schedule mixed with his work life and time zones, it’s mostly scattered snapchats that keep us from forgetting what the other person looks like.

A tradition growing up was going to his house for the end of the year cookout. When we were little we would play in the pool, seeing who could collect the most shark toys and torpedoes that we launched into the bottom, and as we got older it turned into chicken fights, then us floating around the pool, asking each other questions about life.

“Do you ever think about what would happen if your husband didn’t like me?” he had asked me on a sunny day in Massachusetts when we were 16.

“Yeah,” I said, dragging my hand through the water to cool myself down. “I’d tell him to fuck himself, and if he doesn’t love my best friend like a brother, then I want no part of him. You’ll always come first.”

He gave me that classic, cheesy grin of his and then splashed a wave of water against me, knocking me from my float.

He’s not coming this year. He’s busy at work in LA. I can feel him drifting away.

As I help his parents set up some of the food trays, I hear their side door open by the kitchen. I don’t bother looking up, knowing guests have been coming and going all day. It isn’t until two arms wrap around me from behind that my eyes shoot open.

“Miss me?”

Chris.

I spin around, staring at him with my jaw dropped. I can see his mom out of the corner of my eye, smiling at us. She must have known about this. I’m sure he told his mom.

“Oh my god,” is all I can bring myself to say. My eyes start to well with tears. I haven’t seen him since last Christmas. I missed his birthday. He missed me. Our times were always off.

He squeezed me as our bodies clung to each other. “Don’t cry, you’ll make me cry, Sunny.”

Sunny. The nickname he gave me when we were little, which came from Sunshine. We were 8, swinging on a playground. He had a bad day. We played together after school and he told me whenever he feels sad, his day always gets sunnier with me around. He always was able to make me feel loved and appreciated as his friend, and as we got older, that only grew.

I know he loves me. He just needed to chase his dream. That doesn’t mean he loves me any less than he ever did.

“I missed you so much,” he says, holding me even tighter than before.

“I missed your voice.”

“I’m sorry,” he says quickly. “I need to make an effort to call you more. I’m just so-“

“Busy,” I finish for him. “I know.”

His face falls. “Yeah.”

I don’t want him to feel bad for what he’s doing. He deserves something so amazing. He’s worked so hard for it.

“You’re here now though,” I smile. “Can we just pretend like you’ve been here and you never left?”

He smiles softly, nodding. “Yeah.”

I sit by his side for hours, smiling at him as he fills everyone in on what’s he’s been up to. He’s the talk of the town. Everyone is amazed to see him and his brothers do such big things.

Everyone erupts into laughter when Chris tells his stories, and when Matt and Nick add on more anecdotes, the house is filled with pure joy and love for these boys we watched grow up.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” Chris says, excusing himself. “You want anything?” he points to me.

“Whatever you get for yourself is fine,” I nod, adding on a thank you before he leaves.

He comes back with two Pepsi cans. I notice they’re already opened, but I don’t think anything of it. Knowing Chris, I fully expect him to have drank some of mine, and that’s him trying to be funny.

My face puckers at the taste of wine in my can.

He emptied the Pepsi out and poured wine in it instead.

He smiles next to me, trying not to laugh.

A memory of us from when we were 14 comes back to me, and I know that’s what he’s trying not to laugh about.

“Chris! We can’t take their wine!”

“My parents have like 20 bottles. They never drink. These are all Christmas gifts from other people. I promise they won’t notice,” he assured me.

I watched as he poured the glasses half full. It seemed like far too much.

“Try it,” he said, nudging a glass to me. “It’s disgusting.”

I took a hesitant sip. This was fucking awful, but I found myself drinking more at the idea of the thrill. We were doing something we weren’t supposed to, which made the alcohol taste even better.

A half hour later we were both stumbling up to his bedroom, and I managed to make it to the bathroom before throwing up, almost missing his toilet.

He held my hair back and apologized for giving me alcohol. He promised he wouldn’t tell anyone we drank. And he never did.

“Doesn’t taste as bad now, huh?” he asks, snapping me out of my memory.

I roll my eyes and take another sip. He’s right.

Once everyone leaves for the night, my family stays back to help Chris’ parents clean up, and my parents were offered a plethora of leftovers.

When Chris showed up, it was a no-brainer that I would be staying here tonight, so he led me upstairs while everyone else said their goodbyes.

“Shhh,” he hushed me as my giggles flooded the hallway. I’m definitely tipsy, but I’m completely coherent. I think most of my giggles come from the fact that he’s back in Boston. I’m just giddy and happy.

“Sorry!” I apologize anyway, even though he’s not bothered by the sound of my laughter. He smiles at it. He loves it.

He lays out a pair of pajamas for me like he always used to. It’s an old shirt from our high school with his lacrosse number on it, and a pair of his boxers.

I find myself thinking about the girls he had been with that were jealous of what I had with him. Me and Chris had never even kissed, so to think he would be accused of so much more with me was ridiculous. He never failed to stand up for me though. He could have the number one girl, someone perfect for him, and he’d say goodbye to him if they said one bad thing about me.

We will always be rooting for each other no matter what.

“Tomorrow we should actually do some stuff around town,” he says as he changes into something to sleep in. “I’ve been traveling all day and I’m so fucking tired. I just want to lay in bed.” He finishes his statement and flops down on the bed, laying his head next to my thighs.

“I really missed you, Chris. A lot,” I respond, ignoring his suggestion.

He sits up next to me, looking down at me in his clothing. “I know, Sunshine. I missed you just as much. More, probably.”

I felt safe with him again, a feeling that had been lost as we spent months and months apart. I craved moments like these, where we would stay up together and laugh.

The mood in his room shifts when he says, “What ever happened with you and Aaron?”

He knows what happened. I told him before I told anyone else.

He broke up with me with no explanation, and I was left heartbroken and confused. I wanted nothing more than a hug from Chris, but 3,000 miles kept that from happening.

“We’re not talking anymore,” I remind him. I really don’t want to be talking about boys right now, but it seems that’s the topic of conversation that is interesting to him most. “Any girls that have your attention in LA?”

He shrugs. “Not really. They’re cool, some are cute, but I don’t know. I don’t think I wanna do anything with any of them.”

Chris has always been very anti-relationships, but that never stopped him from having his fair share of fun. He always made sure they were on the same page that it was just benefits, sometimes not even friends. I am curious what turns him away from exploring with girls in LA. “Why not?”

“They just don’t have what I’m looking for. I want someone who understands me and what I want, but only a few people get that,” he explains. “I don’t know. I don’t want to waste my time with someone if I know from the jump that it feels like a waste. And I think about you, and how we are, and I don’t think I’ll ever be that close with anyone else. I don’t want to be. I don’t want to think about someone ever taking your place.”

“You can set limits,” I suggest. “But don’t keep yourself from meeting people because you’re worried about me feeling replaced. I won’t ever feel that way. I just want you to be happy.”

“Well, that’s not the only reason you’re a problem in it.”

There’s an ache in my chest at the thought of me being a part of a problem in his life.

“What?”

“I just– There have been issues before… in the past… where girls have felt threatened by you,” he says, looking down at his fingers, where he picks at the dead skin nervously. “That’s not your fault by the way. It’s dumb. I just… I don’t know.”

I pull his hands away from him. “I love you, Chris.”

He smiles at me and says, “I love you too.”

Somehow, his feels different.

I check the time on my phone, putting in beside me and announcing to him, “I’m gonna go to bed.”

Just like we always did, innocently of course, I placed the softest and quickest peck to his cheek closest to me.

I did this as a kid, mostly because Chris would freak out if his mom didn’t give him a kiss goodnight. He insisted that it kept the bad dreams away, and he would ask me to do the same for him when he spent the night at my house.

So I kissed his cheek like always.

I tried to.

But Chris moved his head.

His lips graze mine. There isn’t much contact, but there’s enough for me to know that we just kissed, barely.

He knows exactly what he just did, yet he’s looking at me like he’s shocked.

I’m not drunk, but maybe this is acting as liquid courage. That’s what I tell myself when I fully grab my best friend’s cheeks and press my lips to his. He lets out a deep breath against me, holding the back of my neck and fisting a handful of my hair.

What are we doing? I’m kissing my best fucking friend. My best friend of 15 years.

I’m lost in my own head, completely out of it until I feel him lay on top of me, pinning my arms over my head with one hand as he kisses down my neck with the other.

I lift my chin, giving him more room to kiss me.

He finishes placing wet kisses to my skin, then puts his lips back on mine. His full lips overtake mine, but we form a rhythm that has my chest tightening. He kisses me slowly, but the more tongue we add to the mix, the louder it sounds.

We make out for some time. I lose all track of it. I don’t even know if I’m in reality anymore. My hips aimlessly lift up to try to find something to create friction against. I almost forgot who I was kissing until he pulled back and said, “We’re entering dangerous territory here, Sunshine.”

“What do you want to do then?”

He falls silent, and I fully expect him to lay down next to me and pretend this never happened.

He does the opposite.

“I would never be doing this if it wasn’t something I had thought about for years.”

My heart feels like it’s pounding out of my chest.

Everyone who watched us grow up together is in this house.

And he’s pinning me down to the bed kissing me in the same room we used to play in.

“Then do something about it,” I taunt.

He loves this invitation.

Going zero to one hundred, Chris sits up, pulling his shirt off and tossing it beside me. I’ve seen him shirtless a million times. Hell, I’ve seen his bare ass. This is different though. So much different.

He puts his lips back on mine as his hands slide to the bare skin under my shirt. Without a second thought, I remove it, completely forgetting that I don’t have a bra on.

His eyes focus on my body, his jaw slacked and his cheeks turning red.

“Holy shit.”

I instinctively try to cover myself somehow. He grabs my arms and pulls them back down.

“No no,” he shakes his head. “Let me admire you, pretty girl.”

He kisses me softly down my chest, flicking his tongue over my nipples before sucking them into his mouth, all while he’s rubbing his hand on my inner thigh.

I shift my hips, positioning his hand right over where I need him the most. He stares up at me in awe as I give him this sign of approval, and without wasting any time, he dives his hand into the boxers around me. His underwear. I mimic his movements, dropping my hand through the waistband of his shorts and swiping my thumb over the tip of his hardened cock. He winces at my touch, gasping out of desperation.

“Please,” he whines. “Don’t start something you can’t finish. I’m begging you.”

I yank his shorts down, having the same reaction to his dick that he did to my boobs. I lay below him in shock, mostly baffled by the fact that he’s hung, but also the fact that we’re in this situation.

When he gets nervous from my staring, he places soft kisses to my lips again, like he’s trying to put my attention elsewhere.

“Sunshine,” he pants. “I can’t… If we’re gonna do this… I can’t wait,” he breathes out. “I need you now.”

I stroke him slowly, watching his stomach heave. “Have me then.”

In an instant he has my boxers and underwear on the floor in one fluid motion, spreading my legs and laying between them.

“Can’t believe you’ve been keeping this from me,” he whispers. He touches my dripping folds carefully, then licks his finger clean. “Fuck, you’re perfect. Always have been.”

I’m in my most vulnerable state. Not only am I naked in front of a man, but this is the guy who has watched me grow up. He has seen me through every stage of life, and now he’s about to be touching me, fucking me.

“Chris,” I say his name quickly, urgently, like I’m running out of time to say anything.

He looks down at me, pausing from where he was lining himself up between my legs.

I love you.

He smiles and says, “I know,” before putting my legs over his shoulders and pushing himself inside of me.

My fist clenches a nearby pillow as my body adjusts to him stretching me out. Chris gasps out in pleasure and shock from this entire experience. He drops his face into my neck, letting me hear his soft moans as he feels me clenching, throbbing around him.

When I give him the okay, he starts thrusting into me slowly, both of us silent, letting the sound of our skin finding each other ring in our ears.

I’m having sex with my best friend.

He places a kiss on my thigh, where it rests next to his face. Then, he pushes one of my legs out, spreading me open more.

“Fuck!” I cry out, the sound quickly masked by Chris’ mouth, where he places his lips over mine again to shut me up.

“Gotta be quiet, Sunny,” he warns me. I nod, and he puts his hand over my mouth, making sure I keep the volume down.

His dick hits every spot perfectly. His body clings to mine as our orgasms are in sight. I find myself begging for him, moaning his name, something I never would have expected from us.

Chris sits up on his knees, pressing my knees to my chest as he pounds into me, his face staring down with a dominant gaze, watching his dick fill me as my cum drips around him.

“Fuckkk,” he groans. “Such a dirty girl.”

All self control leaves me when I don’t bother hesitating as I respond with, “Yours.”

He nods, speeding up his pace. His thrusts become sloppier, much sloppier. “All fucking mine,” he reminds me, then pulls himself out of my pussy and strokes himself through his orgasm, letting himself finish on my lower stomach.

He quickly gets a towel and cleans me up before he places his head on my boobs. My hands dig into his hair, running my hands through his loose curls.

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Sunshine, you know that?”

I smile to myself, but I also know that we completely fucked up us ever having a normal friendship after this.

My best friend and I fucked.

And he doesn’t do relationships.

“You’re my favorite,” I whisper back.

He places a kiss to my stomach, and I can feel the smile on his face when he does so.

I don’t smile. I know that with our decision tonight, we lost one side of our relationship.

We either become romantic and it gets fucked up and we lose a friendship too, or our friendship becomes awkward and crumbles because of this.

Neither of us thought about that before we got ourselves tangled up in each other, and I’m doing everything I can to forget about that fear and focus on the boy I’ve been in love with for years laying on my chest.

tag list: @secret-sturniolo @chrisloyalgf @strnilo @draculaura123 @jellybeanbby @qwertytit @55sturn @sleepysturnss @creamoncreamoncream2 @sturnvvz @swaggygirlboss123 @angelworldspost @patscorner @ducksturniolo @mattitties @luv4kozume @mbbsgf @freshloveforthefit @ripmattitude @gamermattsgf @strniololoverr @urmom2bitch @sturnitup @luvmila444 @st7rnioioss @sturniolosreads @pepsiskiess @alorsxsturn @sturniolopepsi @sturnsgasoline @sturns-posts@sstvrnioloo @strawberrymilk4k @ratatioulle @kiibichio @nickmillersn1gf @milesfordays11 @l9vesick @mattsturnzzz09 @mattnchrisworld

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tastesousweet · 1 month

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Can we get a toxic!babydaddy Matt fic like I’m craving something about my man like it’s been days and I haven’t eaten

⭒ blurb : toxic!bd matt who . . .

toxic!babydaddy matt x poc!reader

warnings: toxic relationship, dad!matt (i understand if u don’t fw it), idk what else :P

mickey speaks: this is kinda different for me so ty for the req!! ik this is just a little headcannon set but i hope you luv this anon 💐

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TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . brings some girl he’s been ��hanging out with” to your daughter’s third birthday party just to piss you off

he’d then get mad when you ignore him and his “friend” the entire party…

he’d come up to you as you watch your daughter play on the decorated playground from afar, “the fuck you bein’ petty for, y/n? i thought we were cool with seeing other people?”

“well i just think it’s rude, you didn’t tell me you were bringing anyone else. i don’t care who she is or what you two do it’s annoying from a planning perspective.”

“that’s my bad… you look good though,” he’d glance around for a second before coming behind you and hooking his arm on your neck.

he’d whisper in your ear while you both stare out at your lively daughter, “can’t believe she’s so big now… lookin’ just like her pretty mama.”

you’d roll your eyes and shoulder matt off of you, “matt, go fuck on the bitch you brought here. and stop saying shit like that to me.”

“jesus- watch your language there’s kids everywhere, y/n.”

you blankly stare at him and his cocky smirk that just aggravates you to pieces, “go awayyy, matt.” you whine out and pinch your eyes with a sigh.

and he laughs because everything’s a fucking joke to him.

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . your friends hate but you will always have a soft spot for, he is your daughter’s father after all

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . sends hundreds of roses to your doorstep for mother’s day

when you text him a picture of the ridiculous bouquets with a “????” he immediately facetimes you, “for the best mama in the whole world. you like ‘em?”

you shake your head and hide a smirk beneath your hand to scold him, “you do too much, matt.”

“uh huh i knew you’d say that…” he’d then ask to see his favorite girl, “now where’s my baby at?��

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . can’t mind his business to save his life. he’s always asking you questions about your personal life; and you always shut him down

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . can sometimes be a little too desirable when he drops your daughter off at your place (dressed nicely, smelling good, eyes bright yet droopingly eye-fucking you, etc), leading you to invite him in for a glass of wine or two

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . you sometimes find in your bed again when you feel particularly lonely and nostalgic

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . loves the few times he gets to to wake up to his daughter pulling on his hand and you by his side, fast asleep

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . tends to start arguments from the smallest things to get you to talk to him longer than you need to

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . will always put effort into being a great father (which you respect) despite never putting that same effort into your relationship

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . makes sure you’ll never forget he loved you first and is connected to you far deeper than any other man ever could be

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zarameraki · 4 months

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♡₊˚🎀・₊✧ 𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗶 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗼𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗯𝗶𝗿𝘁𝗵𝗱𝗮𝘆 . . . 𝗼𝗿 𝗱𝗶𝗱 𝗵𝗲? ♡₊˚🎀・₊✧

: ̗̀➛ read part one first

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 nanami forgot your birthday but he's got something special planned 𖥔 ceo x baker 𖥔 grumpy x sunshine 𖥔 she talks a lot x he listens a lot 𖥔 cold shoulder treatment 𖥔 mention of parental death 𖥔 major fluff 𖥔 sfw 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 super soft nanami 𖥔 close proximity

: ̗̀➛ words: 4.1 k

: ̗̀➛ notes: we're back again with fluffy nanami. honestly i shed a tear writing this one because it's just so adjfskdf. if you haven't read part one, go DO IT. RIGHT NOW. if you enjoy my work, please leave a comment, like, and reblog! thank you & ily. enjoy!

It's been a year since you took that leap, moving in with Nanami. Every day spent in each other's company feels like a fresh chapter, and the magic of your relationship persists as if it were the very first night.

Nanami, with his gentle smile and warm eyes, never tires of recounting the story from his perspective. Each time you ask, he patiently agrees to retell it, even though you've long since memorized every detail. The familiarity of his narrative only adds to the charm, as if reliving those moments helps both of you cherish the journey that brought you together.

“You invited a couple of my colleagues to your bakery's opening, and they brought back leftover cookies and pastries to the office. I grabbed some, and with the first bite, I knew your bakery was going to be my favorite. So, I asked Gojo to drive me to your city, not knowing it was going to rain that night. With no parking nearby, I ended up walking. Halfway through, it started pouring. Luckily, I made it just in time, and there you were, smiling like the sun that was supposed to be in the sky. You offered me free food and shelter, and right then, darling, I fell in love with you. It was the most incredible feeling in the world.”

Each time he finishes his heartwarming story, you can't help but be overwhelmed with emotion. Without hesitation, you jump on him with a flurry of kisses, showering him with all the love you harbor for your sweet, stoic boyfriend.

You've shared every conscious moment together since then. With Nanami now working remotely, he'd set up at one of the dining tables in your bakery, delving into meetings and paperwork. You'd plant kisses on his cheek or embrace him from behind, providing a boost of energy. Delivering his special casse-croûte and milk coffee, you occasionally found yourself feeding him as his busy hands typed away. Breaks led to stolen moments in the back room, where you'd make out like teenagers.

Once at home, you'd strip out of your clothes, shower or bathe together, and engage in domestic activities like watching television or attempting to nap, but those often evolved into extended sessions of sex.

Today, silence lingered between you two following a heated argument the previous night.

Unbeknownst to Nanami, your birthday was just around the corner, yet he had scheduled a business trip on that very day. Despite the depth of his knowledge about your past, from childhood playground scars to the dresses you wore for school dances, he seemed oblivious to the significance of the impending date.

In a seemingly nonchalant manner, Nanami had mentioned, “Darling, I'll be away on a business trip from the sixth and will return on the eighth. We can plan a picnic or head to the beach—whatever you prefer.”

“The sixth?” You had to set your utensils down, turning to face him. Your meals were typically enjoyed on the carpet, with plates on the coffee table and your favorite movies playing on the television. “You have a business trip? On the sixth?”

“Yes, that's correct.”

“Kento, what the hell? Why?”

He arched an eyebrow. “It's my job, darling. That's why. It's been on my agenda for a month. Missing it would mean losing out on a lucrative deal."

“But—” You caught yourself mid-sentence.

At that moment, you wished you could shout that it was your first-ever birthday celebration since your parents’ passing.

His birthday had been just two days prior, and you had gone all out—decorating the apartment, baking a cake, preparing a feast of his favorite dishes, buying him new cufflinks, and giving him the blowjob of the century as the cherry on top. It had become one of your cherished days together, an occasion you had been planning for weeks.

“But?” Nanami prodded.

You clenched your jaw. “But it's... you know. It's.”

“What's going on?” he asked, genuinely befuddled. “Did I miss something?”

Your lips quivered, and in an attempt to silence them, you stuffed a dumpling into your mouth, shaking your head. “Never mind.”

“Please, talk to me.”

Ignoring his plea, you continued shaking your head as he gently pulled at your shoulder to make you face him. Tears welled up in your eyes, streaming down your flushed cheeks. Even swallowing the dumpling felt like a struggle amid the surge of complaints in your throat.

“Darling—”

“Just forget it, Nanami.” You wiped your cheeks, your open hair concealing one side of your face. “You already have,” you whispered to yourself.

“Fine,” Nanami replied, casually returning to his food. It wouldn't have been a big deal if you had just mentioned your birthday, but it stung. He should know. After all, he's Nanami—meticulous with schedules, mindful of important dates, and impeccable with time management. Why doesn't he know?

“Are you joking?” you exclaimed, grabbing the remote from his grasp and turning off the movie. “That's all you have to say? ‘Fine’?”

“You told me to forget about it.”

“Yeah, I did. But that doesn't mean you actually forget.”

“I don't get it.”

“Of course you don't.”

He sighed, and you berated yourself for being so obstinate. You resented that sigh, as it made you feel like a nuisance. Yet, it was a warranted sigh, so you let it slide. “Are you upset?”

“What?”

“You are. I can't believe you're upset.” Running your fingers through your hair, you picked up your plate. “I'm going to bed before I say something stupid. Goodnight. Enjoy your trip.”

“Y/N—”

“Goodnight.”

“My love, what’s bothering you?” he asked from the living room while you dumped your dish in the sink. “Would you please just talk to me? Have I said something to offend you?”

You walked off toward your bedroom, into your bathroom, and locked the door. Turning on the shower, you sat down on the floor, holding your knees and crying in the gap between.

You've been ignoring Nanami ever since you woke up nestled against his chest—your body was naturally attuned to his. But since then, you've been withdrawn and moody, casting a shadow over your usual sunny demeanor. Even some of your regular customers have noticed and asked if you were unwell, but you brushed it off with a forced smile and a minor headache excuse. As you were wiping down tables, Nanami entered during lunchtime. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, then retreated behind the counter, placing his coffee cup and sandwich a bit too forcefully.

“Thank you, darling,” he said, accepting it. “Would you like to join—”

“That'll be ten-fifty,” you interrupted, fingers already inputting the amount without meeting his gaze. You’ve never once charged him since you started dating; everything he desired was on the house because he was your favorite regular and person. You loved him so much that you even experimented in baking his beloved pastries and added them to the menu. Yet, he forgot your birthday.

Nanami retrieved the exact change from his wallet and extended it to you. Your hand snatched it, guilt gnawing at you instantly. Pretending to open the cash register, you discreetly slipped the money into your apron instead.

“Would you like to join me?” he asked once more.

You slammed the cash drawer shut and swiftly turned, heading to the inventory room to immerse yourself in organizing as a distraction.

As Nanami waited outside, thumbs dancing over his phone’s keyboard, you couldn't help but notice his sudden shift in demeanor when you approached. Your mind raced with suspicions of infidelity, but rationality reminded you of his busy schedule now that he wasn't in the office regularly. He was too devoted to you to entertain such thoughts.

Nanami reached out his hand, but you brushed past him, burying your hands in your cardigan. Determined to celebrate your birthday, albeit alone, you headed to the nearest supermarket for groceries. You planned to indulge in your favorite pasta dish, bake fudge brownies, and allow yourself to feel whatever emotions came, whether tears of joy or sadness. Today, you'd celebrate yourself. Happy birthday to you.

Nanami followed you into the supermarket, walking beside you as he added both your and his favorite snacks to the cart. You were determined to make him pay for it all, although you knew he would insist on covering the expenses regardless. Throughout the year you had been together, Nanami never once allowed you to spend your own money. Even during online shopping, he always managed to intercept, distracting you with neck kisses until you surrendered to using his card.

You couldn't help but pout and shoot him a sidelong glance as he meticulously examined the ingredients on a bag of chips. Your gaze then shifted to the cake mix and icing packets, giving you an idea. Bingo.

If you weren't going to outright mention your upcoming birthday, you could at least drop a hint.

Clearing your throat, you grabbed a chocolate-vanilla mix with caramel icing and deposited it into the cart. Nanami observed the entire exchange, briefly meeting your gaze with a neutral expression before returning to scrutinizing the ingredients as though they were sacred text.

Damn him!

“Excuse me, sir?” you called, drawing an innocent elderly employee into your scheme. “It's my friend's birthday tomorrow, and I'm torn between which cake mix to choose. Could you help me out?”

As Nanami switched to a different chip bag, your frustration simmered, but the employee weighed his options, eventually settling on chocolate-vanilla. Grateful, you thanked him and strode away, the cart trailing behind.

Nanami handled the grocery payment and bagging while you observed with arms crossed.

Back at home, you kicked off your shoes, discarded your cardigan on the floor, and trudged wearily to your bedroom. The sounds of the fridge and cabinets being stocked echoed as you sprawled out like a starfish.

“Is he pretending?” you mumbled to yourself. “He must be, right? He couldn't have forgotten my birthday. No way.”

Quickly, you took your phone, dialing Satoru, his assistant. The call forwarded instantly, but his response, received a minute later, left you irritated beyond measure.

Satoru: Sorry, Y/N. Can’t take your call. Packing for a business trip tomorrow. We’re going to Thailand. Will get you a souvenir!

Feeling frustrated, you left him on read and flopped onto your stomach, letting out a scream into the pillow.

Skipping dinner with Nanami, you stayed curled up in bed instead. Despite his attempts to comfort you, kissing your cheeks and tucking you in, you couldn't shake the ache in your heart as you heard him packing in the closet, trying to hide your tears.

It was well past midnight when you finally stirred awake.

Glancing over your shoulder, you found Nanami meters away from you. The realization hit you hard: he had genuinely forgotten your birthday. A mountain settled on your chest as you watched him sleep peacefully, unaware of his oversight. He didn't reach out to hold you close or pull you into his embrace; instead, he slept facing away from you.

You wiped away the tears from your tired eyes, then got up and took your pillows to the living room, hoping to find some sleep on the couch. Instead, you found yourself captivated by the sight of the sunrise.

Meanwhile, Nanami seemed unusually relaxed as he prepared for his business trip, taking his time with his morning routine. He took his time showering, shaving, and ironing his clothes—tasks that you usually handled. He adorned himself with the cuff links you gave him for his birthday and wore the cologne from your six-month anniversary. It stung a bit, realizing how diligent you were in remembering special dates while he seemed to forget them so easily.

But you shrugged it off.

Today was your birthday, and you were determined to make it special, even if you had to celebrate alone. Your customers were already aware that you'd be closed for the day, giving you the entire day and night, plus tomorrow, to yourself. Previous birthdays had been spent in isolation since your parents passed away. This one was supposed to be different because you had Nanami, yet he seemed to overlook its significance.

As you washed your breakfast dishes, disappointment bubbled up inside you, causing you to grip the sponge tightly. Deciding to put off the chore, you washed your hands and turned your attention to baking a cake for yourself.

Nanami sauntered into the kitchen, nonchalantly lugging three hefty suitcases. Why the hell did he need three massive suitcases? Your boyfriend had become a complete mystery to you. You scowled as he tapped away on his phone, the urge to grab it and fling it off the balcony almost irresistible. What luxury could those three suitcases possibly hold? Perhaps new dresses, shoes, or jewelry for whoever was receiving his relentless texts. With his poker-face, it was impossible to tell if it was a woman on the other end.

“Kento.”

Nanami's head jerked up. “Yes, dar—”

“It's my birthday today,” you finally admitted. Enough was enough. You needed him to know and feel miserable for forgetting it while he was on this supposed business trip. You knew it wasn't merely business. He always took you along on such trips. Business trip, my ass. It was clear he was having an affair. “It's my birthday today, Kento.”

His mouth opened to respond, but the ringing phone interrupted him.

You scoffed at the timing of it all, abandoning the cake mixture in the pan. “Have a safe trip.” You walked past him, slamming the bedroom door shut, and collapsed under the covers, sobbing.

Something chimed persistently in the background, prodding at your temples like a sharp stick, urging you to wake up.

You fumbled around on the mattress, locating your vibrating phone and swiping right, still half-asleep.

“Hello?” you croaked out.

“Oh, thank God!” panted Gojo's voice. “There's an emergency with Nanami, Y/N!”

“What?” You shot up in bed, immediately springing into action.

“We were headed to the airport when he suddenly fell ill and started vomiting!” You listened intently as you hurriedly searched through your closet for your cardigan. “I brought him to your bakery since it was closer.” Nanami did have a spare key to your bakery for emergencies. “He's really not doing well, Y/N. Please come as quickly as you can.”

“I'm on my way, Satoru! Thanks for letting me know. I'll be there in a flash. Keep comforting him and try making him some green tea if possible. I can't find anything—Where did all my clothes go?” You shuffled his suits aside and rummaged through your drawers, finding only a few undergarments but nothing else. “Damn it. Alright, I'll be there soon.”

“Of course. See you soon!”

You pushed aside all distractions and focused solely on Nanami, hastily grabbing your bathrobe to cover your shorts and tank top. Rushing to the elevator, you repeatedly pressed the lobby button, feeling your body tremble with anxiety. Your chin quivered as you bit down on your bottom lip, overwhelmed by guilt. Nanami wasn’t prone to sickness as much as you were, but your cold shoulder must’ve given him a cold. The thought made you despise yourself even more, tears streaming down your face as you hurried along the sidewalk, navigating past cyclists and ignoring the curious stares of passersby.

You entered your bakery, the door pushing open with a jingle. “Kento! Ken—”

Your words halted.

The space was decorated with a multitude of lit candles, casting a warm glow over every surface - the counter, tables, chairs, and bare shelves. A three-tiered vanilla chocolate cake adorned with “Happy Birthday Y/N” in elegant script stood proudly on a table. A trail of fresh rose petals led to a solitary chair facing a makeshift projector screen fashioned from a white bed sheet. On the screen, a paused video titled “Life In Her Eyes” awaited.

With cautious steps, you approached the lone chair, scanning the bakery for any signs of activity but finding none. Nervously, you moistened your lips and reached for the small remote with a note reading “Play me,” before settling into the seat.

With a trembling hand, you pressed play on the three-minute video.

“This is my beautiful girlfriend, Y/N,” Nanami's voice narrated in the video, overlaying a scene where you filmed your boyfriend tossing pebbles into the ocean. “She loves to record every single moment we spent together.” The scene shifted to you capturing Nanami's reaction to Alice Vision in Breaking Dawn Part Two. “She loves feeding me if I’m busy working.” A moment captured where you sat on his lap, sharing a pastry and planting a kiss on his cheek. “She loves sunrises and sunsets.” Your camera focused on Nanami's back against the colorful sky. “She insists I hold every stray cat because apparently, an attractive man with a pet drives her wild." Nanami's expression remained composed as he gently stroked the purring white Siamese.

“It’s the truth,” you muttered, using your arm to wipe away the tears and mucus from your runny nose.

“Y/N loves collecting miniature figurines, plush toys, and vintage trinkets.” In a solo vlog, you showcased your latest shopping haul for Nanami, who was in Shibuya for a board meeting. “All. The. Time.” Vlog after vlog, Nanami gathered them all and edited them into snappy clips. “She has a passion for photographing meals and desserts, whether we dine out, order takeout, or cook at home.” The footage captured you filming your dinner plates and soliciting Nanami's ratings as he munched, nodded, and gave you a thumbs up. When he requested the clips, you didn't think much of it. “I haven't met anyone who cherishes life's little joys quite like Y/N.”

The fast-paced snippets capture moments of you brushing dirt off flowers, generously offering cookies to teens studying in your bakery, crafting a necklace from seashells collected at the beach, attempting an ASMR mukbang with Nanami but ending up laughing too much, sharing your collection of hair ribbons, exploring the streets of Malaysia hand-in-hand on your first abroad trip, playfully filming him exercising and flipping the camera to fan yourself and bite your lip, sharing kisses while painting on the living room floor, and him peacefully asleep with his head resting on your chest—

Suddenly, the screen goes black, displaying the title “Life In My Eyes.”

Wiping away tears, you lean forward eagerly, curious about what other scenes he has in store.

Then, your own face fills the screen, bathed in the warm glow of the golden hour, with fluffy summer clouds behind you. Instantly, you recognize the setting: the cliff in Malaysia where you once spent hours talking. But in this clip, your eyes are closed, and you're facing ahead while Nanami captures your profile.

It switched to a different scene of you peacefully asleep against his chest, wrapped in one of his soft cashmere sweaters.

Then, it transitioned to you busy in the kitchen, a smudge of flour on your cheek and strands of hair escaping from your bun.

Next, it showed you tackling household chores, applying makeup, hurrying around declaring, “We're going to be late for the airport,” or shedding tears during the finale of “Happy Feet 2,” or enjoying a quiet moment reading and jotting notes on your balcony.

“Are you recording me?” Suddenly, a clip appeared of you playing with Sumo, a cat you had instantly fallen in love with at the pet adoption center.

“Yes,” Nanami confirmed.

“Pfft. That's my job,” you replied, returning to playing with Sumo. Nanami awkwardly turned the camera around, unable to find the right function to flip screens, and winked.

Then, it shifted to a dimly lit room illuminated solely by flickering candle lights.

It was your bakery.

You appeared on the screen, seated with your back to the camera. You waved an arm, only to realize it was a live feed.

What the . . . ?

Confused, you turned around to locate the camera, but instead found Nanami. On one knee. Holding a red-suede box containing a diamond ring.

You almost tumbled off your chair in disbelief.

Nanami . . . Nanami was proposing to you.

Your boyfriend . . . soon to be your fiancé.

And you couldn't breathe.

Panic threatened to overwhelm you.

But first, you needed to slip that ring onto your finger and shower him with kisses.

Approaching him, you dropped to your knees, gently holding his face in your hands as you kissed him. Tears mingled with your synchronized lips, memories of his touching video playing in your mind. Life, in your eyes, was simply the joys of it. But in his eyes, life was you. You were his reason for living. And he was your heart, keeping you alive.

You pulled back, nodding silently as he slid the ring onto your finger. You noticed his initials on the inner rim, and a sob choked out of you, quickly sealing the moment with a kiss. His arm encircled your waist as he lifted you up, kissing you passionately. It felt like a soldier returning from battle, your body bending back as his smile widened against your lips. Soon, you would be Mrs. Nanami. Holy cow.

“Happy birthday, darling,” Nanami murmured softly as you tried to catch your breath. He gestured with a finger and walked over to the back of the counter. “Close your eyes for me, my love.”

You shut them tightly, wiping away the tears, and sniffled, taking a deep breath.

“Hold out your hands,” Nanami whispered.

You complied.

Something small, soft, and incredibly fuzzy settled onto your palms.

“Mew.”

Your eyes flew open, and there he was. Sumo. It was Sumo, the kitten who had both you and your boyfriend—fiancé—enchanted with his charm. You whined about adopting him once you left the shelter, but Nanami had been practical and kept the idea aside.

“Is he . . . Is he ours?” you asked, gazing into the feline’s sky-blue eyes.

“He's ours,” Nanami replied with a smile.

“He's—Oh my goodness, I'm going to start crying again.” And indeed, you did cry, holding Sumo tightly against your heart, gazing at the radiant diamond ring on your finger, and observing Nanami wipe away a tear from his eye's inner corner. “Kento, we're getting married!”

“I know, my love.” He planted kisses on your forehead, damp cheeks, and lips. “I can’t breathe,” he whispered, stealing another kiss. “You'll soon be my wife.”

“And you'll be my husband.”

“Such a privilege.”

You chuckled, giving him a quick kiss and wrapping your arm around his waist. Resting your head on his chest, you both admired Sumo staring wide-eyed at his parents. “I don't think I've cried this much since . . . ” You sealed the mention of your parents’ passing with a sigh.

“I broke your heart with my plan,” he rasped out. “And I apologize sincerely for it. Satoru assured me it was foolproof, and regrettably, I trusted his judgment.”

It was no surprise it was his assistant.

“Where is he, by the way?”

“Parked down the block,” Nanami replied, lifting Sumo with his large hands to place him in his carrier. “I've already packed our bags for a trip. I'm taking you to Italy.”

“Huh?”

Nanami was nonchalant as he tidied up around the bakery, extinguishing the candles. “It's just for the weekend. I've spent the past week crafting an itinerary with all your favorite spots and restaurants to visit. You'll love the hotel we're staying at.”

You were about to bombard him with a barrage of questions, but instead, you couldn't help but smile.This was Nanami, after all. He had a knack for surprising you. One minute he'd be showering you with affection, the next he'd be whisking you away to Dubai for a vacation. One minute he'd forget your birthday, and the next he'd be proposing on one knee, presenting you with the cat you'd always wanted and whisking you off to your dream destination.

“—and there's this café that sells the most delicious macaroons—”

You interrupted him by pulling him close, planting a kiss on his lips, and wrapping your arms around him. Nanami eagerly responded, one hand resting on the small of your back and the other cradling the back of your head. When you finally broke apart, breathless, you looked into his hazel eyes and said, “Let's take our time, play with Sumo, and enjoy the cake you baked.”

“How did you know I baked it?”

You shrugged. “Baker's intuition.”

Nanami embraced you, resting his chin on your head. He took a deep breath as if replenishing his oxygen supply. His fingers gently ran through your hair, soothingly rubbing your back. “I love you, Y/N,” he whispered as though it were a fleeting thought.

You nuzzled closer to his chest. “I love you too, Kento.”

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sidekick-hero · 4 months

Text

Written for the @steddielovemonth prompt: Love is being willing to wait for them.

Eddie was six years old when he first met Steve, not that he would remember it until much, much later.

The boy Eddie met that day was sweet and a little shy, perhaps because he was so small for his age. He was a year younger than Eddie, only five, which was forever in Eddie's eyes. He felt responsible for the little boy somehow, so he walked up to him on the deserted playground to make sure he was okay.

"'Ello!" Eddie exclaimed, holding out his hand for Steve to shake, like he'd seen his daddy do all the time when they were in town. His dad called it part of the Munson charm, whatever that was, and Eddie wanted to be as cool as his dad. "I'm Eddie, who are you?"

The boy looked up at Eddie with big eyes and made no move to take Eddie's hand, so Eddie reached out and took the boy's hand in his own and shook it wildly.

"See, that's how you do it. And then you say your name. Let's try it again!" Eddie decided, still pumping the boy's hand. "I'm Eddie."

"Steve," the boy said with a slight lisp, and Eddie thought maybe he hadn't said his name earlier because he was afraid Eddie would make fun of him for it. The other kids made fun of him a lot, for a lot of reasons that Eddie didn't really understand. All he knew was that he didn't like it; it made him sad. Especially since none of the other kids would play with him, so he had to go on his adventures all alone, fighting the big dragon without a trusted knight at his side.

Perhaps Steve could be his knight.

"Will you help me slay the big dragon, Steve?" Eddie asked, suddenly excited at the prospect of finally having someone to play with. "He stole all our gold, so we have to slay him!"

He was still holding Steve's hand, but he dropped it as he began to imitate how they would fight the beast with their swords. "I'm a mage because my mom says every fairy tale needs a good fairy or a mage to help the hero defeat the villain. And you can be that hero, Steve! I'll help you with my magic," Eddie promised, his whole face breaking into a wide grin.

Steve giggled, but Eddie thought it wasn't like the other kids laughing at him. It sounded nice, like Steve was enjoying Eddie's antics. "What do you think, Sir Steve?"

Between bursts of pearly laughter, Steve eagerly agreed, but then paused to ask Eddie in a suddenly serious tone, "But why don't you wanna be the hero?"

"I'm no hero, Stevie! I'm a mage, didn't you hear me? I can do magic to help the hero, because only together can we defeat the beast." Eddie explained in an equally serious tone, because killing dragons was serious business.

"Okay," Steve agreed. "How do we fight a dragon? I never fought a dragon before."

Eddie explained his plans to Steve, and together they ran and climbed around the playground in search of the dragon. It was the most fun Eddie had had in a long time. Steve was the best hero ever; he listened to Eddie's ideas and had some surprisingly fun ones of his own. They forgot everything around them, caught up in a world of make-believe, until a woman's voice startled them out of their play.

"Steve! Steven, where are you? If your parents come home and you're not there, they'll fire me," the woman grumbled before shouting again. "Steve!"

Eddie looked at Steve questioningly as the voice came closer.

"That's Lucy, she's looking after me 'cause my parents don't have time," Steve explained in a low voice. "I have to go." He looked very sad when he said that and Eddie already missed his bright smile.

"That's okay, Stevie, we can kill the dragon tomorrow!"

That made Steve perk up. "Yeah?"

"Yeah! I'll wait for you here tomorrow!"

"Thanks, Eddie!" Steve exclaimed, throwing his arms around Eddie in a tight hug before running off to find the woman.

The next day, Eddie was back at the playground as soon as he could get away from their house, telling his mama that he had finally made a friend and now they had to kill the dragon. "He's my hero, Mom, and I'm his mage, just like in the fairy tales!" He told her, and she hugged him tightly before making him and Steve two sandwiches, because "slaying dragons is hard work and makes you hungry'.

Steve wasn't there when Eddie arrived at the playground, so Eddie sat down on the swings and waited for his new friend.

He waited until the first signs of dawn reached the playground, and he had to eat both sandwiches because he was hungry, and drink all the water his mama had packed.

Eddie only left when it got dark, and he knew his mama would be worried. But he was back the next day, and the next. Every day for weeks, Eddie waited for Steve on the swing, always wondering why his new friend didn't want to play with him anymore.

Eddie never made a connection between his Stevie and King Steve. How could he, when King Steve was all aloof and arrogant, looking down on people like Eddie and walking the halls of Hawkins High with that haughty grin on his face. The boy wasn't his hero, and Eddie wouldn't dream of using his magic to help him.

Funnily enough, the first time Steve's sight sparked any kind of recognition in Eddie was when Eddie pinned him against a boathouse wall with a bottle against his neck. Stripped of his usual confidence by surprise and fear, Steve looked somehow... small. He sounded even smaller as he tried to reassure Eddie that he meant no harm, and the sound of his voice made something tingle at the back of Eddie's mind.

Steve was different than Eddie had expected, to say the least.

At times, he was snarky and bitchy. But not in the mean way he had been in high school. He was all bark and no bite. And he was good to Eddie's sheep, to all the kids, really. Like a big brother, a protector. A knight in shining armor who stood between them and danger.

And not just for the kids, for everyone.

Steve jumped into a dark, deep lake not knowing what awaited him; fought demonic bats with bare hands and teeth, losing more flesh than seemed healthy.

Steve was a hero, and later Eddie berated himself for not realizing it sooner, but hindsight is 20/20, and he only understood that Steve Harrington was indeed his Stevie when it was too late to do anything about it.

Eddie was almost sure when they stole the RV together, because the way Steve grinned at him just before they switched positions and Steve sped out of the trailer park reminded him so much of the sweet boy he once knew.

The boy he never really stopped waiting for.

When Steve asked Dustin and Eddie not to be cute, not to be heroes, he decided to test his theory.

"We're not heroes," he told Steve, and when Dustin said “you can be the hero, Steve” Eddie was watching his face for any sign of recognition. He could have sworn he saw a flicker of it in Steve's eyes. That was the moment he almost, almost asked outright.

Eddie even called out to him, the words on his tongue, "Why didn't you come back? I was waiting for you.' But in the end he decided against it. What use was there? They had bigger problems to deal with right now. He would ask Steve later, when it was all over. He would tell him that he had been waiting for him all this time and that he was glad that Steve had come back to him.

They would talk later.

Only later wouldn't come, Eddie realized as he tasted his own blood in his mouth and stared into Dustin's frightened, tearful eyes.

And then Steve was there, holding his hand, begging him, pleading with him to stay, not to die. Eddie couldn't promise him that, but he had promised him something else, and he wanted Steve to know that he had never broken that promise.

"I waited for you, Stevie. Every..." Eddie coughed wetly, more blood flooding his mouth, and he suppressed the grimace to keep smiling at Steve. "Every day. I knew you'd come back. Worth... the wait," Eddie whispered, his voice fading. Eddie was fading fast.

In the distance he heard Steve's voice begging him to stay, he needed his mage by his side, and the last thing he thought was that he was sorry he had to leave before he could see Steve slay their dragon, but he hoped his magic had helped enough.

The next time Eddie was able to think and feel, it was like waking up from the worst hangover ever. Everything hurt, even his hair.

Slowly opening his eyes to a thankfully dimly lit room, he winced at the sharp pain in his head. It made moving his head even more torturous, but Eddie had to know where he was. Looking around as much as he could, he realized several things.

He was in a hospital bed with monitors beeping softly beside him.

It was night, with only a small bedside lamp providing some light.

Steve Harrington was asleep next to him, his arms crossed on Eddie's bed and his head resting on them.

Eddie must have made some sort of noise at the sight, because at that moment Steve jumped to his feet, ready to fight or flight.

Then he looked at Eddie and a myriad of expressions played across his face. Most of them passed too quickly for Eddie to decipher, but he's sure he saw surprise and joy. Wonder, definitely, but maybe fear, too, though Eddie had no idea why Steve would be afraid of him.

"Steve," Eddie croaked, his throat like sandpaper. The sound of his name was enough to jolt Steve into action and he hurried over to Eddie's bedside table. Seconds later, a straw was held to his mouth and blessedly cool water filled his mouth and ran down his throat.

"Thank you," he told Steve when the cup was empty and he felt more like a human being again. A badly mangled human being, but he took what he could get. "What happened? Is everyone..."

"Vecna is dead. Everyone made it out alive." Eddie let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. "That's all you need to know for now. I'll tell you the rest tomorrow, okay? You should get some more rest. You... we almost lost you."

Steve looked shattered as he said this and Eddie finally noticed the dark bags under his eyes. Steve's hair worried him even more. It looked greasy and unkempt, worse than it had even looked in the Upside Down.

Eddie was afraid to ask, but he had to know. "How long..."

"Twenty days. They couldn't tell us when you'd wake up. If you'd wake up." His voice broke at the words, and Eddie tried to lift his hand to soothe and comfort, but it weighed a million pounds.

"I'm sorry I kept you waiting so long, Stevie," he said instead, hoping to ease Steve's pain with his words instead. But all it did was make Steve collapse, the bed the only thing breaking his fall. He was the one who reached for Eddie's hand then and held on to it like a lifeline.

"I'm sorry, Eddie. I'm the one who kept you waiting for years. I never went back to that playground. My babysitter didn't want to take me anymore because I ran away, and she almost lost her job. And then it had been years before I was old enough to go by myself and I couldn't... the thought of going there and you not being there was too much. And why should you be? Nobody would wait that long."

The "not for me" rang out between them and Eddie gathered all his strength to pull Steve's hand to his mouth. As he planted a kiss on the soft skin of the back of his hand, Eddie said in a low voice, "I did ... I waited all this time for you. This playground became my hound, once a day I would stop by, just in case. I always hoped you would come back."

Now it was Steve's turn to take Eddie's hand in his and place it gently on his cheek, planting a soft kiss on Eddie's palm.

Caressing Steve's lips with his thumb, Eddie smiled at the sweet boy he had waited a lifetime for. His hero.

"We did it, Stevie. We slayed the dragon!"

Steve's pearly laugh echoed through the room, silenced only by Eddie's lips as he leaned down to capture them in a fairy-tale kiss.

#steddie #steddie fanfiction #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddielovemonth #day 4 #love is being willing to wait for them #my writing

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pelova4president · 5 months

Text

Magic Euros II

Leah Williamson x Wife!Reader

Magic Euros I

summary~ Your kids are absolute menaces, but how could they not, they’re Williamson’s and are around your wife’s crazy teammates all the time.

Your kids are little monsters and there is nothing you could do about it. James seemed to be pretty sweet and shy but how older he got the more he acted like his naughty aunties. Alice really wasn’t any good from the moment she was born. Your daughter was just as naughty as Katie, Vic and Kyra. They tried to involve Alice in all their pranks in the hopes that no one would blame them but instead the innocent two year old.

There were times their plan would work and your daughter got put in time-out or nothing would happen because ‘you got no proof’. But other times, like when they had Alice to hide Lessi’s shoes, she told on them after you threatened to take the toddlers iPad away. “Alice! Why’d you have to tell on us?” Victoria crouched down to your daughter. “B-but iPad” the girl defended herself. You laughed at that and Kyra rolled her eyes annoyed. “Why did you bring an iPad addict into the world?” the Aussie sighed.

And while Alice was influenced by the bad kids, James loved his sweet auntie Lotte. They had a very special and cute bond. Lotte loved to babysit him whenever you had to make time for Alice’s swimming lessons. He always came back from Lotte’s house with so much to tell but is so tired he always falls asleep halfway through his story. The boy wanted to be just like her. He tried to play footie like her, wanted to cook like her and he even started to dress like her.

y/nwilliamson posted on their story

Beth and Viv loved to babysit them. They took the kids to all kinds of playgrounds and their dogs, Myle and Rona are their favourite. Myle was still very hyper and the mini Leah’s are too so they’d both end up asleep after a very busy day. Almost always James and Alice and up in Myle’s bed with Myle’s on the ground next to them.

Jamie and Al loved to watch their mummy play footie in the summer, the winter was less fun. You went to games as that is your job, you needed to be up to date and what better way to do that watching your wife play live. Taking the toddlers with you, you sat in the friends and family section. The kids were good almost the whole game. Well that was until it starting pouring down. The London weather decided to show up and everyone got absolutely soaked.

y/nwilliamson posted on their story

When the girls had to play friendlies in Portugal you took the kids with you. You would have a little vacation and free babysitters, why wouldn’t you go.

The flight to the sunny Portugal was hectic though. Arriving at the airport, James was asleep but the hyper girl you had in your arms definitely wasn’t. “Calm down Al, you’ll see your aunties in a bit.” Leah tried to calm her down but that only mad her more hyper. “Where’s auntie Vicky! And Kyky oh- and Katie and and Lessi?” she tried to wiggle her way out of your grasp. You put her on the ground and she ran around in search for the Arsenal girls.

“We should’ve just bought her that kidsbelt, that way she wouldn’t be running around like this.” Leah sighed already regretting the decision to bring the kids.

“Mommy, Mama! KyKy’s here!” you heard your little girl scream through the airport. “That’s awesome sweetie, can you find the others too?” you asked her, trying to distract her with something.

After a few minutes of Alice running around the airport in the hopes of getting her tired for the flight, she found the rest of the team. “Mama look! Auntie Vicky’s here too!” she dragged you to the Dutchie. “Oh god help me Vic, ze is al de hele dag zo en ze wordt maar niet moe” (Oh god help me Vic, she has been like this the whole day and she isn’t getting tired.) you hugged your friend. Vicky laughed at your tired state, “Dat had ik niet gedacht, je ziet er zo energiek uit!” (I wouldn’t of thought, you look so energetic!) she said sarcastically. You rolled your eyes at her and sighed.

You walked over to your wife and sleeping son. “Leah, i don’t know why we thought this was a good idea, Alice is already being a menace to society. Think of what she can do when she’s with those other devils for more than a few hours.” you whisper to her.

Lotte came walking over to the two of you. “How are the little monsters doing?” she asked looking at Alice who was being thrown into the air by Kyra. “Well one of the two is sleeping like an angel and the other is… well, not.” Leah told her. James woke up hearing his favourite auntie. “Lotte!” he said tiredly, wiping the sleep out of his eyes. “Hey grote jongen, you’re awake.” she took him out of the arms of your wife.

You tried to learn the kids some Dutch but that was hard since they were so young and they almost only spoke English. Vic, Viv and Lotte had tried to learn the kids some but it didn’t really stick. The only thing they really remembered was ‘stomkop’ which means stupid so it wasn’t really in your favour.

Walking into the plane, without kids since they chose their aunties over you and their other mom, you sat next to Leah. Kyra and Alice sat in front of you and Lotte and James next to you. You were not even off the ground when you heard the duo in front of you and your wife snore.

y/nwilliamson posted on their story

When the team finally landed both of your kids were awake. Leah took the suitcases and bags to the teambus and you kept your eyes on the kids. Vic placed Al on her big suitcase and rolled the toddler to the parking lot. She was trying to teach her some Dutch but her effort was futile. “So kleine, say ‘ik hou meer van tante Vic dan van mijn mama’s’” (So little one, say ‘i love auntie Vic more than my mommy’s’) the midfielder tried. But the only thing coming out of the toddlers mouth was some gibberish.

A blonde forward approached the girls, “You’ve had her for a while now, she needs some quality time with her favourite auntie now.” Alessia grabbed to girl from Victoria’s suitcase. “You love auntie Lessi more right Ali?” Alessia said tickling your daughter.

Walking into the bus the naughty toddler took Alessia’s Prada glasses and put them on. “Look! I’m auntie Less!” she said posing like Alessia. Katie looked over and began laughing. “She really does look like you now, face all serious. Alice you look just like grumpy Lessi!” the Irish woman commented.

alessiarusso99 posted on their story

Lina arrived later with her daughter Lo. Your kids loved to play together and try to trick Katie. Lo would tell Katie to walk her to the bathroom, where Alice and James would wait for her. “What can i help you with kid?” Katie asked the mini Lina. They would open the door and your kids attacked her. They threw water on her and the three of them ran away together.

“Lina Lina! Katie’s mad!” James ran towards the Swede. Lina would fake her confusion, “Why would Katie be angry pojke?”. The three kids looked at eachother, Alice pointed to Lo who had to explain everything.

Katie came running into the room with three buckets of water. “I’m gonna get ya!” she yelled chasing the screaming toddlers.

stinablackstenius posted on their story

leahwilliamsonn

liked by daniellevddonk and 318.827 others

chillin’ it out

comments

jillroord coolest kids out there 😎

lucybronze i’ll take the kids to the chillest place, next week they’re coming to barca

↳ keirawalsh i back that

lottewubbenmoy Jamie boy with the coolest sunnies

kyracooneyx yeahh the weirdooss

↳ victoriapelova you’re the biggest weirdo

alessiarusso99 ali looks too cute!!

↳ y/nwilliamson you out her in that dress and did her hair, how could she not

barcafemfam i love the arsenal family smm

W0s012 they’re literally mini Leah’s and y/n’s

When you got back from Portugal you went to dinner with your parents and Leah’s since they were in London for a few days. You had to leave the kids with Beth and Viv for the night but they didn’t mind, they loved kids.

Alice played with Myle and got her to play dead, well the toddler had to push her down to get her to play dead but it kind of worked. “Piew!” Alice yelled with her pistol fingers pointing at the puppy. “Myleee! You need to play dead! Lie downnn” she complained. The dog however had other plans and sprung on the little girl and started licking her face. “Bad doggy!” she giggled pushing Myle down on the couch and trying again. “Piew!” she yelled. Myle didn’t move a muscle so she just pushed the puppy down.

Viv saw the whole scene play out in front of her and laughed, having filmed the whole thing.

And while all of that was going on, James was vacuuming the couple’s house. “What’re you doing little guy?” Beth asked the boy. “Cleaning Auntie Viv and yours house!” he said excited. The vacuum wasn’t on but Beth didn’t have the heart to tell him that. “So sweet of you. Hard workers deserve a snack break right?” Beth ruffled his hair and placed a cookie in his hands.

viviannemiedema posted on their story

Keira and Lucy kept their promise and invited you, Leah and the kids to Barcelona. Keira drove to the airport to pick you up. Alice and James attacked Keira immediately. “Oh my god! Al, Jamie please, Auntie Kei still needs to drive us.” Leah took the kids off her bestfriend. “Well hello to you too.” the midfielder laughed.

Lucy awaited you at their door. “Lucy!” the kids yelled, running out of the car and into the defender’s arms. “Hey monsters!” she hugged them. “Silly Lucy, i’m not a monster.” James laughed at his auntie.

The kids got to see the Barcelona training ground and even got to watch a game. Ingrid and Mapi, who they already knew, were waiting for the kids. The kids ran onto the field and into the arms of the Barcelona couple. “We’ve missed you so much!” Ingrid yelled, picking both kids up and squeezing them. Mapi spun James around and played goalie when Alice was taking penalties. “You’re too good niña!” Mapi said picking your daughter up and placing her on her back and running around the field.

Leah and you always enjoy your time in Barcelona, the people there were like family and the city was beautiful. The weather was nice, well it mostly was and if it was raining it would clear up quickly.

Lucy and Keira made forts with the kids, danced with them in the rain, even though you said they shouldn’t because they’d get sick. And Lucy got James to hug a tree. “Trees deserve love too Jamie. It’s mean to kick them. You don’t like it when someone kicks you, go give the tree a hug.” the dark haired woman said after catching James kicking a tree in the park. “I’ll say sorry to the tree.” James said and ran through the park, giving the biggest hug as an apology. Lucy giggled at the scene in front of her. James really had a good heart and he did look like Lotte, like a lot.

lucybronze, keirawalsh

liked by aitanabonmati and 291.826 others

fun days with these kids

comments

lauren_hemp why is Jamie hugging a tree

ingrid_engen those samba’s are the cutest!

↳ marialeonn16 you bought them

↳ ingrid_engen they’re still cute though

victoriapelova why can they dance in the rain but i can’t?

↳ kyracooneyx yeah actually this is unfair

lj10 the coolest kids 😎

↳ lucybronze cooler than me?

↳ lj10 just a little bit

Coming back from the sunny Barcelona it was time for Alice’s first football training. James wasn’t really interested in football, only when auntie Lotte was playing. Alice loved to kick a ball around, she needed something to release all her energy.

Leah had been beyond excited to get her to play footie. They picked the shoes out together and bought her training kit. “You like these boots Ali?” Leah asked, picking out the shoes she liked the most. Alice just nodded. She wasn’t really interested in the boots, looking at the poster of one of her aunties in the store. “Look mummy, that’s auntie Lessi!” she pointed at the big poster next to the Adidas boots. “I want the same boots as Lessi!” the little girl insisted.

“Alice, that’s the wrong section. Look over here, you like these pink ones?” Leah said pointing towards the Nike boots. “No mummy! I want Lessi boots.” she stomped.

And that’s how your daughter came home with shiny silver Adidas boots.

Leah drove her to training, standing next to the field and watching your daughter play with other girls her age. Leah would never say it but seeing her little girl play football made her emotional. Alice was happy, making friends and even scoring. “She’s supposed to be a defender.” Leah sighed, hugging you from behind. “She’s an adidas girl and a striker but she plays football.” you said looking at your wife and kissing her on the lips. “You’re right, she’s a footballer.” Leah hummed.

leahwilliamsonn posted on their story

A/N not my best but i pulled through. I still have writers block though :(

#leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso community #victoria pelova #jill roord #engwnt #nedwnt #arsenal wfc #vivianne miedema #beth mead #kyra cooney cross #alessia russo

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irisintheafterglow · 8 months

Note

hii iris!! being one of my fav writers, i was wondering if it would be okay to please request you write something halloween related between Satoru and reader while they're in a lowkey relationship and instructors at jujutsu tech? maybe he drags reader and the students on some night of shenanigans? up to u, i just love how u write and i feel you'd kill this hehe

thank u so much! have an awesome day!

life's no fun without a good scare

summary: you have the brilliant idea of playing hide and seek in a corn maze against the most powerful sorcerer in the world. should be fun, right?

wc: 2.6k

cw/tags: fluff and crack and crack and fluff, established relationship, swearing (a lot of it, you'll see why lol), mentions of eating, angst if you squint, co-parenting megumi AND his friends!!

note: AAAA hi!! thank you so much for the love omg :')) i hope you like this, i definitely enjoyed writing it even though i did get a tad carried away lol. GOD this was so fun to write, thank you for suggesting it

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3 thank you for your support!!

“I’m going to eat so much candy, I’ll throw up.”

“What’re those tubs over there?”

“They’re for waterboarding Itadori,” Megumi deadpans without hesitation, clearly misrepresenting the apple bobbing game just ahead. You state his name warningly, like he was six years old again, and he mutters a half-hearted apology under his breath. “Maybe we switch out the victim for our esteemed teacher, instead.” You cover a snort with an unsuccessful cough. Even though you’d practically raised him, his jabs at Satoru never lost their humor.

“Your suggestion will be taken into careful consideration,” you say, “though it will become more of a possibility if he continues to run on Satoru-time.” Nobara hums in agreement, kicking a stray piece of hay with her toe while you continue to progress through the general admission line to the pumpkin patch. Your fashionably-late boyfriend had sent you a very cryptic text at noon, instructing you to “pack up the kids and take them to the following address.” When you replied with a chain of question marks, he sent an infuriatingly unserious GIF that had you pinching the bridge of your nose.

“What time did he tell you?”

“5:00.” You check your phone preemptively, already anticipating the followup question.

“And what time is it now?”

“5:20,” you sigh, sliding your card across the shelf of the ticket booth and receiving four orange wristbands in return. After slipping them onto the wrists of your three unofficial children, Itadori and Nobara immediately disappear into the crowd; Megumi, however, stays plastered to your shoulder and makes his distaste for the bustling festival known. You scan nearby groups of people for a tall idiot with white hair with no luck. If Satoru still showed up, he would have to pay for admission himself. “Let’s grab a table and find me a bottle of soju–”

“Barely twenty minutes and you’re already drinking? Since when did Shoko replace my lovely partner?” Satoru’s sing-song voice calls out from behind you, like he’d been standing with you the entire time. Despite your attempts to remain irritated at him, you can’t resist when he turns you around, lacing his fingers with yours and pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. “Hi, gorgeous. What took you so long?”

“I assumed you were running late, like you always do,” you argue futilely, the world melting away when you catch his eyes over the rims of his sunglasses. “Is this not too overwhelming for you? Having so many energy signatures in one place?”

“I’ll be fine,” he assures you with a confident wave of his hand. “After all, I have your energy to ground me.” Your legs start to feel a bit gelatinous when you hear a very obvious throat clearing itself and suddenly remember that Megumi is still standing there. “Shouldn’t you be on the playground or something, my dear student?”

“Shouldn’t you be on the playground or something, my questionable teacher?” You burst out laughing and your boyfriend’s jaw drops in indignance, gearing up to say something just as childish. On instinct, you cover his mouth with your hand, recoiling in disgust when his tongue darts out to lick your palm. “Gross. I’m gonna find my friends.”

“Don’t do anything dumb!” The boy waves his hand dismissively and you roll your eyes. In a different universe where he actually was the child of you and Satoru, he had his father’s sass gene.

“He’s used to this by now, isn’t he?” Satoru chuckles and it reverberates against your body, making your head spin in lovesick circles.

“I’d imagine so, seeing as we did raise him like this,” you answer, letting him start to guide you toward whatever stand interests him first, his arm draped over your shoulders. “Do you think Yuuji and Nobara have figured it out?”

“If Megs hasn’t told them, then definitely not,” he states with utmost certainty, looking over one of the games with all the concentration of a hunting tiger. In the middle of the stall was a large pool of water, and swirling around in it were small, colorful bowls in the shape of blooming flowers. The goal, you guessed, was to land a small ball in a certain color and get a corresponding prize from the lineup hanging overhead. It was truly an enticing array of stuffed animals, too, from wolves and monkeys to dinosaurs and little princess dolls. “Which one do you want?”

“Hmm? What do you mean?”

“Choose a prize and I’ll get it for you, guaranteed.”

“Guaranteed? You do know these are designed to scam you, right?”

“And I am designed to do whatever you want, so take your pick.” After a moment of consideration, you point to a stuffie of a black cat wearing a pumpkin costume. “Cute choice.”

“It reminds me of Megs.” He laughs and pulls his arm back, stretching his neck from side to side and handing a few dollars to the game attendant. It was all for show and completely unnecessary, and he knew that; he also knew that his over-the-top shenanigans always made you laugh after a stressful week. Whether you knew it or not, he’d noticed you were increasingly overwhelmed by all the work from the previous days, specifically regarding training his students while he was off on an assignment. Along with completing your own missions, you were supervising the three first years and guiding them through boring paperwork, which he knew made you feel like shit. It’s why he suggested you go to the festival in the first place, to get your mind off of work and spend time with you. And, he’d be damned if he didn’t get you that fuzzy little cat on his first try.

“Watch the master at work, sweetheart,” is the last thing he says before carefully tossing the first of three balls toward the only purple bowl in the pool. He’s the tiniest bit off, though, and he curses under his breath as it ricochets against the edge and into the water. “That was a practice shot.”

“Sure, baby, sure,” you giggle, stifling your amusement into a fist. His tongue peeks out the side of his mouth in absentminded focus and you’re sure he’s found the perfect arc when the voice of one of his students cheers from behind you.

“You’ve got this!” Despite their well wishes, Yuuji and Nobara accidentally timed their cheers at the precise moment his fingers let go of the ball, messing up his aim even worse than the first time. They deflate in embarrassment and Megumi’s face turns red from trying not to laugh. The usual deadly aura radiating off of him increases tenfold and it makes you shiver despite the warm autumn air. “T-Third time’s the charm, sir!”

“Fucking hell, why do I even bother–”

“Satoru, that’s cheating,” you whisper, sensing him imbuing the tiniest amount of Cursed Energy into the last ball to easily manipulate its trajectory. “I can just buy the thing online; you don’t need to be doing all of this.”

“I can buy you anything online, but I also want to prove that I’m better than everyone else,” he mutters much too seriously than the situation required. “Plus, once I win that damn cat, it’ll have a nice story to go behind it.”

“Your ego truly knows no bounds.”

“You know you love it.”

A minute later, you’re walking away from the game with the fuzzy cat in your arms and Satoru’s arrogant smirk by your side. The rest of the night is spent watching him drag his students into various inflatable obstacle courses and tumbling down the slide after they push him over the edge. In spite of all the excitement, you have to drag them to a picnic table to sit and eat; even then, the three students challenge their teacher to a funnel cake eating contest. To no one’s surprise, Yuuji wins by a landslide.

Satoru pays for everything, of course. When someone wanders over to a game booth, he pays for their game every single time and continues to pay until they win a prize. By the end of the night, all five of you have at least one prize in your possession and Satoru’s bank account is barely affected.

Before the fair closes, you propose a game of hide and seek in the gigantic corn maze. You and the three students would get a five minute head start, and then Satoru would enter and race to find you before you reached the other side. The first years’ eyes shine with excitement when you tell them they can use techniques as long as they don’t make a mess. You consider throwing a veil over the entire thing, just to make sure Megumi’s dogs don’t start any rumors of hellhounds in the area.

“If the kids can use theirs, then you’re not allowed to use your technique,” Satoru concludes and you make a noise of indignation while you gameplan by the entrance of the maze. “Don’t start with me; that’s totally fair!”

“I don’t understand how that’s fair in any way,” you argue up at his ridiculously confident smirk. You wanted to slap him and make out with him at the same time, none of which would have been appropriate in present company.

“You make portals, sweetheart. If we’re making the maze a no-fly zone and I run into one of your doorways, I’m gonna be in there for the rest of time.”

“I’ll just make simple doors!”

“The last time you said that, I was stuck on a mountain for three hours,” he reminds you and you huff in defeat, completely forgetting the three pairs of eyes watching this entire conversation. Sweetheart? Since when did he call anyone sweetheart? Nobara and Yuuji knew that you both were friends from high school, but the bickering seemed suspiciously akin to that of an old married couple. They glance at their spiky haired friend for confirmation of their theories, but he avoids their gaze and continues munching on pumpkin spice popcorn. “Alright, five minutes on the clock. Don’t let me catch you,” he smiles wickedly and you all but shove the three students into the maze.

In a blink, Megumi summons his dogs and sends them to look for the exit. As you sprint down straightaways, Nobara intermittently sticks a few nails into the walls, essentially creating security sensors that will trigger if Satoru passes by it. It also helps establish what paths you’ve already explored and where you need to go next. In what feels like seconds, five minutes is gone and your heart drops as you see a black veil descend over the maze. The atmosphere of the maze feels electric, like wind before a storm, and you nervously laugh and urge the students to move faster.

“So, are we ever going to talk about you and Gojo?”

“That’s what you’re focused on right now?” You shoot back in amusement and Nobara shrugs, sending another nail into the corn with a strike of her hammer. “I don’t think this is the proper place to have this conversation!”

“So, are you two actually dating? Megumi won’t say anything, but he’s a terrible liar when we ask if he knows something!”

“I think the latter shooting ominous strikes of lightning into the air is a more pressing issue!”

“Lightning strikes which, I’ll add, are increasingly getting closer!” Yuuji’s voice rises to a panicked yelp and you curse in disbelief as your group slams into another dead end, giggling from sheer fear and swatting the students to find another way. All the while, blasts of pure Cursed Energy fly upward like fireworks, illuminating the field in terrifying shades of blue and red. “Any status on the nails?”

“He just passed the third one closest to us,” Nobara reports, face slowly losing color as the most powerful sorcerer in the world hunts you down. “You can’t send Nue to stall him?”

“You think a bird is going to stop Gojo Satoru?”

“Well, your damn dogs haven’t come back yet and we’re running out of options–” The back-and-forth is cut short by a faint howl coming from the back right corner of the maze, just a few hundred yards away. One of the dogs appears from the floor, hooking a sharp right turn that has you four stumbling to catch up to it. The howls continue, as do the strikes of lightning, while you follow the dog to what you assume is the exit. “The nails haven’t picked up his energy signature in a while,” Nobara informs you in slight relief while the howling grows closer with every step. Yuuji’s mouth breaks into a victorious grin, but you and Megumi aren’t convinced.

“Does that mean we lost him? Or did he get lost?”

“Something doesn’t feel right,” you mutter low enough for only Megumi to hear and he nods in agreement. “I don’t feel him anywhere.”

“That cracking behind us is just the corn, right?” Yuuji’s voice becomes uncertain and the static in the air only becomes more palpable. You’re so close to the exit and you can tell he’s getting nearer, but something in your gut tells you that you can beat him. But, Nobara’s realization makes your blood run cold.

“Wait, I don’t sense any of my nails anymore–”

“Found you.”

Your throats rip a collectively brutal screech as Satoru’s voice seems to come from directly behind you, and you glance backward to only see a pair of knife-sharp blue eyes staring through the black corridor of the maze. Colorful curses of fear babble from the mouths of the students and you slam your feet even harder into the ground as you sprint for the exit. The bright lights of the pumpkin sign were in sight; you just had to make it a little farther.

“Elephant, elephant, elephant!” Yuuji’s suggestion comes out as incoherent yelps and he tries to fire off black flashes to no avail. Megumi looks at him like he’d grown four new limbs.

“What?!”

“Summon the fucking elephant, Fushiguro!” A nail rockets away behind you only to be immediately sent back, embedding itself in the husk by your feet.

“I hate to break it to you, but the elephant isn’t going to do anything when–”

“When I’m already right behind you,” he whispers directly into your ear and you scream as his footsteps line up with yours and his arms snake under your legs, lifting you off the ground like you weighed no more than a cotton ball. He disappears with you into darkness, firing off a single precise attack that cuts the lights of the entire exit so that the path is pitch black. Somehow, you end up outside of the maze while the three students continue to panic inside and he gently sets you on your feet. His menacing aura disappears in a blink and he nuzzles his nose into your neck, his arms holding you close by your waist. “I found you,” he says with a smile.

“You did. I know you always do, eventually.”

“Mhmm. Did you have fun?”

“Honestly, that was the most terrifying experience of my entire existence,” you laugh, threading your fingers into his hair and tugging him even closer. He chuckles warmly, ironically just as quiet as the fearful bickering of your students in the maze. You barely feel any sweat on his forehead against your shoulder and you can’t even imagine how messy you looked after running for your life. “I look like shit, don’t I?”

“You’ve never looked prettier,” he murmurs, pulling away briefly to press a kiss to your cheek. “We should probably go grab the kids.” You hum absentmindedly, vaguely making out the voices of Megumi and Yuuji trying to figure out which way to go.

“Stay here a little longer. Let them think you’ve taken me away to your scary vampire lair, or something.”

“As you wish, sweetheart. I'll be your scary vampire anytime.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #ask iris!

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lethalchiralium · 7 months

Text

Dial Tone | Happiness Series

a/n: here we go.

warnings: kidnapping, babies, mentions of pregnancy and sickness, mentions of violence. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. 18+.

summary: It’s the afternoon, rain thundered against your home so you couldn’t hear the footsteps that backed you into a corner.

PREVIOUS << | >> NEXT | SERIES MASTERLIST

“Repeat after me. Stay within sight.”

“Stay in sight!”

“Have fun.”

“Have fun!”

“Don’t play with boys.”

“That’s not fair!”

Simon smiled under his face mask at his four year old, her curly hair unruly after she pulled off the sock cap she demanded to wear earlier. “I’m kiddin’, love. But stay in sight of Mum or I.” He pulled her little hand, forcing her to come close before he pressed his cheek to her forehead. She squirmed and he let go, a mumbled, “Okay.” was the best he was gonna get from her.

Winnie ripped her light coat off, tossing it into her father’s lap before she sprinted away to play on the playground with the other kids her age. Simon watched her intently, detail in his memory how she smiled at every kid who passed her by. She’d wave, begin to speak, and play with whatever kid was in the closest vicinity. She certainly didn’t learn social expression from him.

He sat back on the bench, his spine prickled with displeasure as he tried to relax. It seemed to be reflex for him to be on edge - straightened back, clenched fists, jaw so tight it could be wired shut. It was windy, not too many parents weren’t out and about to let their children play on a Tuesday afternoon; school was in session, plus this park was off the beaten path. Hidden and safe, just how he preferred. There were about four kids playing with Winnie, only two sets of parents.

Your hand then settled on his thigh, warmth pooled in his belly as he looked down at your perfect hand. A bracelet gently hung from your wrist, your preferred metal with four colored gems. It was your latest gift from your husband, it meant so much to you - having the four birthstones of your family on it. He was proud of how you smiled when he gave it to you, upset that he made you cry - even if it was tears of joy. He settled his cold hand over yours, you laughed a little.

“Your hand’s freezing, Si.” Your shoulder pressed against his, his nose scrunched a little as you squeezed his thigh.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, moving to pressed a clothed kiss to your hair. “Didn’t think it’d be this cold. Shoulda worn gloves.” There was a small sneeze, Simon looked down at your lap to see Mellie, bundled up and warm as she watched her sister play. With his free hand, he poked her button nose - she giggled before she leaned back, trying to get a glimpse of him.

You squeezed his thigh again, watching your oldest like a hawk as you gently spoke, “I’ll hate you forever if you miss Winnie’s birthday party.”

Simon smirked. “I won’t.” He wouldn’t miss it for the world.

“Or your birthday party.”

He rolled his eyes, his good mood began to sour but he took in a breath, flushing it from his system. He always knew you mean well, even when you drop things like this, knowing he doesn’t want a party since he swore them off at nine. So, he changed the topic. “Why haven’t we had one for yours?”

“I’ve had plenty of them, Simon. You haven’t let me throw you one. And the ones you told me about, they weren’t good.” You rubbed his arm then looked up to him. With your best puppy eyes, you asked, “Please let me throw you one so I can show you how fun a birthday can be.”

“…Fine.”

“Thank you.” You placed a kiss right where his lips were - no matter the mask, you always knew where to kiss his lips. It’s like they were magnetized to fit his perfectly. “You know, there was this post I read the other day, talking about kindness and gentleness doesn’t need to be so flowery and gentle like the movies.” Your hand turned to hold his, linking your fingers together as you turned back to watch your daughter on the playground. Simon couldn’t tell keep his eyes off of you, hanging on every word you said. “And I thought about you.” There was a moment where Simon felt warmth flush his cheeks, his chest, his hand that held yours. “I think about my 21st birthday and how you made me cry when you walked in that restaurant, you were nervous and your tie a bit crooked - that was kindness.”

“That was love.” He corrected, his voice gentle and low. “I loved you since that day. You were so happy to see me.”

“I was. I always will be.” You squeezed his hand, the one you were never scared to hold. “I think about how you bring me things you thought I would like, and I always do. It’s like you’re in my head, like you know everything about me.”

Simon smiled under his face mask. Not the small smile he would usually show you, the cheek straining smile that would make your face ache after a while. “I always want to know everything about you.”

You sniffled a little, a small laugh left your lips. What he couldn’t see were the warm tears that threaded down your cheeks. “I didn’t spend too much time on the post because I thought about how you were cold to me when we first met. And how you have changed so much since then, in such little time. That…” You sniffled again, leaning your head to rest against his shoulder once more. “That I loved you enough for you to recognize that you’re safe with me.”

He squeezed your hand, pressing his cheek to your hair.

“Just like how you’ll always be safe with me.”

He let go of your hand, moving to settle it on Mellie’s chest - her little gloved hands instantly grabbed his fingers, moving to chew on one of them. He didn’t mind. Your hand squeezed his thigh again.

“Ten more minutes, then I want to go home.”

He nodded a little, cheek still pressed to your hair. “Whatever you want, my love.”

•••

You barely got any sleep. With a crying Mellie who wouldn’t settle down and a clingy Winnie, you were amazed you had gotten a wink of sleep when you woke up at 7am to a cry of discomfort from your baby.

You checked the time, noticing that you had a couple of notifications but tossing your phone back on your nightstand before pulling Mellie into your arms. Her little fingers scratched at your sleep shirt, which was one of Simon’s old shirts, and her little face was buried in your neck. Her forehead felt so much warmer than last night, you were almost instantly in the bathroom - with one hand, you wet a washcloth with cold water. A gentle movement of Mellie’s head and the wince of a cold washcloth on your neck gave you chills. You pulled it away from her nose and mouth, holding it to the top of her head to try and give her relief and cool down her temperature.

“Mama?”

You looked up to see Winnie sitting up on your bed, her hand rubbing her eye as she started to wake up.

“Yes, baby?” You asked, Mellie still crying on your chest.

“Wanna sleep more.” She toppled backwards, dragging your pillow over herself. If you weren’t so worried and tired, you would’ve cackled, you did give her a small laugh. You looked back down at your baby, whose little face was scrunched up as she cried. You were swift as you made your way out of your room and downstairs, hating that you were most likely waking everyone in the house-

“Morning.”

Laswell was already sitting at the kitchen table, coffee on a coaster as Roach sat beside her, eagerly scarfing down a bowl of Cheerios. You were startled a little, not used to more than just Simon in your home. You made your way to the medicine cabinet. “Sorry if she woke you guys up, she-“

Laswell interrupted you. “She’s fine. Don’t worry about her, she’s still a baby.”

That made your heart swell a bit, you whispered a gentle, “Thank you.” You grabbed her medicine, preparing her syringe of bitter liquid while you heard the front door open and close. Heavy boots that sounded nothing like your husband’s entered the kitchen, you didn’t even glance to know that it was König. He was taller and most likely heavier than Simon, so it made sense he would also be louder. You were sure he was making noise to ease your mind.

“Guten Morgen.” He spoke, Laswell mumbled something into her coffee as you sat the baby on the counter in front of you. She sat up, face still stained with tears and her wails turned into whines as you took her little hand - you administered the medicine, Mellie gave a sour look and her eyes swelled with tears again. Not long after, her whines turned into wails again. There was no winning.

You were quick when you grabbed a small snack for yourself, carrying your infant back upstairs. The only plan you had was to keep a cold cloth against her head and debate whether or not taking her into A&E was a good idea. She’s terrified of new people, she’s screaming and crying non-stop, you weren’t sure if the added stress of new people would do her any good. But at least she had some prospect of getting some relief from this.

You swiftly gathered a cold wash cloth, Mellie grabbing your hair and t-shirt in distress as you did, wailing. You didn’t react to the hair pulling, you squeezed the water out from the cloth into the sink before letting the small cloth rest on top of her head. The baby squirmed, squealed, and whined - but the wails instantly ceased. Her tear stained face looked up at you before she slammed it into your collarbone, you winced in pain. “There we go, girlie. That’s gotta feel good.”

Winnie was still passed out in the middle of your bed, snoring away. You brought your baby back towards the bed, sitting down on it so you could keep an eye on both of your girls. Whines escaped Mellie for a few more moments before she finally calmed down, your hand cradling her head and arm holding her to your chest. You kissed her head then leaned back onto your pillows, trying to fight the exhaustion in your body but it was too much. Your eyes fluttered closed with your five year old beside you and your almost one year old finally napping on your chest. With every breath, you felt more comfortable - even with how much your head and lungs hurt, you would always feel comfortable when your girls slept beside you.

•••

“Paying attention, LT?” Gaz whispered from beside your husband. Ghost threw him a dirty look in a casual side eye, going back to marking up his map as Price continued to present on the mission. Ghost’s phone was in his hand, he was waiting for a call or text from you, like you usually do. It’s not abnormal for you to forget, Mellie can get clingy and he knows first hand how demanding Winnie can get.

“More than you are, Sergeant.” He answered, pencil dragging across a section of London suburbs where the target was likely to be hiding. Brent and Tower Hamlets. He vividly remembered finding his father on the streets in Tower Hamlets, fucked on some drug but still conscious to recognize that his thirteen year old son shouldn’t be in London. Simon still has that scar on his forehead from how hard his father hit him that night. The pencil skritch-ed around in a circle, those two suburbs seemed the right area the target would hide in. Easily to slip in and out of alleyways, a lot of drug activities and violent crime. When you’re an outcasted former Russian Mob drug mule, you can’t exactly sip the finest champagne on a balcony in The Ritz.

There was something bugging him in his head. Something he was missing. He had gone through his Ghost rituals in the car on the way to base, then on the plane to the small Piccadilly Circus safe house. Simon was not even a thought in his mind, nothing about Simon’s life was supposed to be distracting him - yet, all he could think about throughout this meeting was you.

How scared you must have been, giving birth to Mellie alone all those months ago. How hurt you were when you had lost your son. How happy you were that Simon finally got to know that you were pregnant again. How you were graceful in knowing he was leaving again. How he could recognize the pain in your eye when he told you, how his heart felt like it was being repeatedly stabbed when he watched you fight back tears.

Simon loved you. Ghost was not meant to love. He was meant to be a soulless monster, but after the nine months he spent at home with you and his children, the lines between Ghost and Simon Riley seem to bleed together. Where the mask couldn’t cover seemed to stay the devoted husband and father, while underneath the fabric balaclava, Ghost was ready to find his prey like the hunter he was.

“Dismissed.” Price’s voice broke Ghost from his thoughts, he instantly closed his folder of information and stood. He shuffled out of the briefing room, his hand crept to his phone in his pocket.

One phone call wouldn’t hurt.

•••

You felt nauseous when you woke up, but it passed easily after you sat in your dry bathtub, cheek to the wall of it. Maybe Mellie’s cold was passing, you wouldn’t be able to function if morning sickness caught you this time. You narrowly escaped it with Mellie and with your miscarried son, so you were genuinely praying you wouldn’t be throwing up every chance your body had for the next three months. Your baby monitor sat in your hand, Mellie was placed in her crib around 9am when she finally cried herself to sleep.

Laswell and Roach had taken Winnie to the park after lunch, which Laswell was gracious enough to make. It seemed the three operators were comfortable in your home, it made the stress of it all seem to ease. König stayed behind, stating that he was here to help with Mellie - which you thanked him but told him it wasn’t necessary. He had a job to do, which was to protect your family until the whole… whatever was blowing over. You weren’t sure if it was necessary that they were there, but after coming face to face with your supposedly non-existent father-in-law, the added security was more than welcome.

You only had one more day until the doctor’s appointment, you had given yourself by mid-afternoon to decide to take your daughter to A&E to get checked out sooner. If she got worse, you’d pack up your self, your baby, and your security detail and go. But now, you were cleaning up Winnie’s room. Making her bed, putting away what little toys she had gotten out.

It seemed like last week that you were putting a ten month old Winnie down for a nap, nestled in her Winnie the Pooh themed nursery. Now her soft yellow walls were a soft green, a color Winnie begged for to her father. He bent with little resistance, now she gets to hang her drawings of flowers and dinosaurs on her green walls. It wouldn’t be long before Simon would paint Mellie’s room whatever color she wanted, then the last upstairs room from its nursery yellow to your last baby’s favorite color. Your hands gripped Winnie’s duck patterned comforter, tucking it up to her pink pillow. You patted the soft object, just reminiscing on how much your life had changed in such little time.

There was barely any time for you to rest in your daughter’s room before you heard your baby begin to cry. You rose to your feet, moving out of Winnie’s room and crossing directly into Mellie’s nursery - where a cool breeze brushed through the room. Your eyebrows furrowed.

The window was open.

Mellie had stood up in her crib, hands gripped onto the side and screaming, face full of little tears. You were over to her in only three strides, pulling her up into your arms. She was still so warm, you were very worried now - you bounced your baby on your hip for just moment before you made a move towards the changing table. “Oh baby, baby, Mama’s gonna help.”

You tried to lay her on the table but she rolled towards you, still screaming and crying like someone was burning her ears off. “I know, honey, give Mama just a second-“

Something in your head clicked. Your hands instantly picked up your daughter, running your hand over her hair to try and smooth her as panic settled into the center of your chest. You needed to hold her, something in your body demanded you keep your hold on your daughter.

The window was open. When it wasn’t before. You did not open it, you would have heard her door opening on the baby monitor if König had come up to open a window. You never even thought it could be opened, you never tried. You took a step back, going to turn towards the door of the nursery. If you get downstairs quick enough, you may be able to warn König to tell Laswell and Roach not to come back. To keep Winnie away.

There was a loud thud from downstairs, your heartbeat in your throat as you heard it again and again and again. The air around you turned cold, goose flesh invaded your skin as you held your breath, waiting for König to come upstairs and tell you it was a false alarm. Mellie’s crying was loud in your ear, but the voice that came from downstairs was deafening.

“Y/N! RUN!”

You took one look towards the door and solid metal was pressed against the back of your head. Your body went still, your daughter screaming in pain right next to your ear. You heard a gunshot muffled by the walls of your home, your eyes squeezed shut as you cradled your daughter closer. With your heartbeat in your throat, you heard a low growl,

“Don’t move.”

••••

Simon pulled the phone away from his ear, watching the time begin to tick as your voicemail began to play.

“Hey love, I know you probably napping with the baby but jus’ wanted to check on ‘er. And you. Love you, see you soon.”

He settled the phone down on the table of the mess hall, a late lunch was what he was used to with planning extensive missions. Price gave him a curious look from across the table. “You usually don’t call her.”

“I know.” He answered, metal fork pushing around mushy peas on the tray. Something was scraping away in his chest, he couldn’t place the feeling.

“The girls will be fine.” Price assured Simon, taking a bite out of his stew. “There’s two operators and Laswell there. If anything were to happen, your girls would be safe.”

Simon glared at Price. “Still don’t appreciate being called in from my paternity leave.” The fork pierced a piece of cut up potato, eyes never leaving Price’s face.

“You didn’t have to agree.”

“If I didn’t, I’d get a disciplinary.” Simon took a bite of the stale potato, it was bland and soggy. “Can’t exactly lose my only income for my family.”

The table jostled as Soap ripped a chair out from beside Ghost, he didn’t even react as Soap dropped into his seat and his tray clattered onto the table. He began to chatter with Price, a happy smile on his lips and he ripped apart his bread roll to place on half on Simon’s tray. Simon took his phone back into his hand, opening it to a picture of his daughters. He gazed at it, tracing the shadow on your hand as it held up Mellie - your engagement and wedding rings glittered in the sunlight. He could remember that small smile on your face from that picture.

There’s no need to worry. They’ll be fine.

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lustfulslxt · 7 months

Text

Baby - Chris Sturniolo

summary : you and chris go live on instagram, cooking dinner in the kitchen, singing and dancing to music together while fans gush over how cute you are.

—

You were in the kitchen, pulling out all of the ingredients you needed to make dinner. Your playlist on shuffle, softly playing in the atmosphere. You had a clean house, a free weekend, you were making your favorite dinner, and spending the night with your boyfriend. You were content.

"Gorgeous?" Chris speaks in a sing song voice, trailing behind you.

You hum in acknowledgement, still laying everything out.

"Can I help you?" He asks, linking his arms around your waist, planting his head on your shoulder.

"Of course, so long as you don't mess anything up."

He places a soft kiss on your neck, pulling away from you with his hands in surrender, "I promise. I'll do whatever you need me to."

You give him a smile and nod in agreement, softly pecking his lips.

On the counter, laid a pot, a skillet, a plastic spoon, noodles, oil, seasonings, jars of sauce, chicken, and heavy whipping cream.

"Fill this pot up with water." You instruct him, "Once you're done with that, place it on the big burner, on high."

He gives you a salute, "Yes, ma'am."

You knew he had the gist of it, but you wanted to be extra and explain every little thing to him. He followed your instructions, very simply. Once the pot of water was on the stove, he turned to you, expectantly.

“We’ve got to wait for it to come close to a boil before we start the chicken, that way they’re done at the same time.” You tell him.

He nods, before going to your phone and turning the music up. “Want to go live?”

After pondering for a split second, you agree and he logs onto Instagram and starts the live. Soon enough, there were thousands of fans watching.

“Hi guys!” You exclaim, standing next to Chris.

He greeted them as well, tossing an arm around your waist. The fans went crazy over it, causing you to lightly blush. Your music had stopped for a second, changing to the next song, which was Baby - Justin Bieber.

“Aw shit!” Chris grins, propping his phone up and pulling you back into the middle of the kitchen “Oh woah, oh woah, oh woah.” He sings, twirling you around.

Your laughter fills the air as the two of you sing and dance, oblivious to the fans screen recording and blowing the comments up, gushing over your relationship.

“She make my heart pound, and skip a beat when I see her on the street. And at school on the playground, but I really wanna see her on the weekend. She knows she got me dazing, cause she was so amazing.”

Even though it was just a song, with the way he was staring into your eyes and singing every lyric to you, while shamelessly dancing around the kitchen, in front of thousands of people, you nearly melted. The smallest things had you falling harder every day.

He pulled you into a soft kiss, not having a care in the world about the live. He loved you and he was never afraid to express it. Once he let you go and continued dancing like a fool, you went back to get the chicken started, a deep blush coating your cheeks.

You cut the chicken up, seasoned it, and put it in the skillet with oil. Next, you started the noodles. As that was going to take some time, you went back to join Chris and his shenanigans.

“I must apologize for acting stank and treating you this way.” You sing with him, “Cause I’ve been acting like sour milk all on the floor, it’s your fault, you didn’t shut the refrigerator. Maybe that’s the reason I’ve been acting so cold.”

You both laugh again, enjoying everything about the night you’re having. Chris pulls you in the direction of his phone, so you guys could read some comments and interact with the viewers for a moment.

“You guys are the cutest.” Chris reads out loud, turning his head towards you with a proud smile on his face.

“True love.” You read another comment, nodding in agreement as you looked back at him, staring in pure adoration.

“The love of my life.” He whispers, only you being able to hear him.

That didn’t stop fans from dissecting what he said through the movement of his lips, and they went absolutely barnacles. The way Chris admired everything about you and was relentless with his affection, made them crazy. They truly loved your guys’ relationship.

He pulled you into him once again, just holding you in his embrace. His scent pleasantly engulfed you as you deeply inhaled, taking in every second of it all. He was warm and you felt safe and content, you felt home.

“Y’all, I’m gonna marry this girl one day.” Chris tells the live, causing your face to heat up as the biggest smile pulled to your lips.

“Stop, you’re making me blush.” You giggled in a whisper.

“Sorry, gorgeous, I can’t help it. You drive me mad, in the best way possible.”

You pulled him in for a kiss, this one deeper and more passionate than the last. You guys were perfectly in sync, merging together as one.

“I’m so in love with you.” You breathed into him lips.

“Let’s end the live.” He whispers, suggestively.

You let out a loud laugh, going to the phone, “Okay guys, we’re gonna call it a night. Gotta finish dinner. See you later!”

Chris threw up a peace sign with duck lips, bidding the fans goodbye.

You turned to him with a cheeky grin, “Maybe after dinner, you can show me how mad I drive you.”

“Don’t tempt me, baby.” He smirks.

You both laugh, going back to the cooking, happy to be with one another.

—

a /n : ok this was so shit, lowk feel like i rushed the ending.. still not proofread lolol. but like imagine chris dancing w you while y’all cook dinner and shit 😭 baby me now. send in requests pls pls

#the sturniolos #sturniolos #sturniolo triplets #fluff #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x you #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #imagine #fanfic #request #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x you

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minastras · 1 year

Text

dear stranger, do you remember me too? // sunghoon

When you were sixteen, you betrayed Park Sunghoon. Or he betrayed you. Whichever it was, you knew two things for sure: 1) kids were cruel, and 2) you would spend the rest of your life trying to make up your mind. Well, until you saw him again. It was a strange feeling, meeting him in the flesh even though his ghost had been haunting you for three years.

at a glance: childhood friends to strangers to lovers, reformed bad boy! sunghoon, university au, pure angst (i received High Level Clearance from @end-hyphen to put him through the wringer sorry), ft. hyung line

words: 12.3k

warnings: swearing, mild mentions of blood, sexual harassment, and fights (nothing serious), alcohol and cigarette use

——————————

For as long as you could remember, Park Sunghoon had been the centre of your solar system, the axis around which your universe revolved. You’d known him since the day you were born. You lived on the same street, four houses apart, and as the only two kids in the area you naturally bonded instantly with each other. He was your best friend, your confidant, your partner in crime.

As soon as you both were no taller than his coffee table, you spent nearly every day together at the playground behind your street, running through the neighbourhood blowing bubbles and chasing butterflies.

“Do you think we could both fit on the same swing?” You could still hear your voice, light and flowery back then, asking.

“Let’s find out,” his equally childish voice rang back, before he yanked you into his lap and struggled to get enough leverage with his feet to push you both off the ground.

That ended with you tumbling out of the swing and onto the tarmac just by the playground, scraping your knee. You both must’ve been only five years old then, but you didn’t cry, instead stubbornly getting to your feet and ignoring the blood trickling down your calf until you were back in the privacy of your living room.

He had carried you home on his back, even though you could walk just fine, and sat you down on the sofa while he cleaned your broken skin with a tissue.

“You can cry if you want,” he had said simply, in that innocent manner only kids have.

You were with him all the way through kindergarten to middle school to high school. Neither of you had many friends; you were both quiet and shy and somewhat rough around the edges. But that didn’t matter, because you had each other.

As you grew from toddlers to precocious children to teenagers, you continued spending nearly every day together. When you weren’t glued to each other’s sides in school, he was spending the night at your house after class, or you were playing video games in his room on weekends.

You always looked forward to Fridays. Sunghoon finished school an hour after you did and he would wait for you in an empty classroom. Afterwards you would take the bus into town and waste away the rest of the afternoon at the movies or in the arcade. You’d buy fried chicken for dinner and eat in your room, and he would spend the night. In the summertime, you’d climb up to the roof and stargaze and eventually fall asleep beside him, only to be rudely awakened by middle-of-the-night summer showers.

You had never known anything else but you and Sunghoon against the world.

——————————

When you were sixteen, things began to change.

“Do you want to do something special tonight?” Sunghoon asked. You were hanging out in your bedroom, him lying on your bed and you sitting on a bean bag on the floor, listening to music and studying.

“Like what?”

He grinned excitedly and handed you his phone. “Jeongmin invited me to join him and his friends. He asked me to bring you, too.”

You read the brief text exchange and frowned. “Jeongmin? As in, iljin and leader of that gang of dickheads, Jeongmin?”

“He’s actually nicer than he seems, you know,” Sunghoon told you. “He said he wants us all to hang out.”

You gave him his phone back, incredulous. “Hoon, the four of them beat up Ahn Jinho so badly last month that he’s still in hospital. You can’t seriously be considering taking him up on his offer. He’s going to drag us out into a park and kill us.”

“I think he just wants to show us how to have fun. You know, live a little. Why else would he invite two nerd loners like us?” he asked.

“Because we’re weak, lonely, and easy to take advantage of?” you pointed out. When he didn’t respond, you sighed. “Do you really want to go?”

“I do.”

“Fine.”

He shook his head rapidly. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

“And let you get killed all by yourself? No thanks. We die together.”

——————————

You knew it was a mistake the second the conversation ended, but, as you said, you weren’t very well going to let Sunghoon go alone. And he was adamant, longing for friends, and desperate for an adventure. He clung to your arm as you walked from your house to the abandoned car park, thanking you repeatedly the entire journey.

Regret set in almost instantly. For you, anyway. Sunghoon seemed to be having a blast.

Jeongmin was already there waiting for you, with a case of cheap alcohol in his hand and his three lackeys in tow. You sat in the car park watching as Sunghoon drank and smoked with them, pretending to enjoy himself even though you knew he despised the taste of both of those things.

Jeongmin respected your assertion that you wouldn’t smoke (a shocker), but continued pushing you to drink the entire night. You fidgeted under his leering gaze, only growing more anxious as the minutes ticked by and he kept trying to ply you with alcohol, kept sitting closer and closer to you, kept returning his hand to your thigh no matter how many times you shifted away. Sunghoon didn’t stop him.

At the end of the night, you dragged Sunghoon back to your house and managed to get him up to your room without waking up your dad. He was wasted and reeked of smoke, incredibly lucky that his parents would just assume he’d spent the night at yours like always. You dumped him on your bed, aired out his clothes, and mixed honey and lemon juice into a glass of warm water for him to try and stop his cough.

“Did you have fun?” he asked, already changed into some of his sleeping clothes he kept in your room. His words were slurred and his cheeks were red, but he was coherent enough. “God, my throat feels like shit.”

“Because you smoked half a pack in one sitting like you were cosplaying as a forty-five year old weathered truck driver. Drink your honey lemon water,” you ordered, opening your bedroom windows so the cigarette smoke wouldn’t linger. “And no, I did not.”

He pouted but complied. “They’re not that bad.”

You took the empty glass from his hands and pulled the blankets up over him, touching his forehead. His skin was warm and flushed from the alcohol. “We’ll agree to disagree,” you said, heading downstairs to wash the glass.

“Lie down with me,” he whined the second you came back, somehow having managed to tuck himself into your bed like a sushi roll.

You switched off the lights and climbed into bed beside him, close but not touching. “I really don’t think you should be mixing with them, Hoon. They’re bad news,” you said quietly.

He’d fallen asleep before you ever got the chance to finish your sentence.

——————————

Over the next few weeks, Sunghoon started going out on more of these ‘adventures’. You stopped tagging along, but he still relied on you to shelter him in your room so his parents wouldn’t find out where he was disappearing to. And you continued to keep your phone right by your pillow while you slept so you could go bring him home if and when he called you.

He kept smoking around Jeongmin and his friends, even though he hated it and it made his throat itchy. You had started doing your own grocery shopping so your dad wouldn’t notice how fast the lemons and honey ran out nowadays.

When you and him were together, he acted exactly the same. He was still sweet, thoughtful, and just a little bit snarky. He still stuck to you in school, still waited for you every Friday afternoon, and still followed you to whichever new restaurant you wanted to try out on the weekends. He still lit up with a smile when you came by to his figure skating practice to cheer him on, much to the chagrin of his coach.

But whenever he went out to get wasted with Jeongmin and his gang and you had to go pick him up, you caught glimpses of the person he was becoming. He was picking fights and losing his temper at the smallest things, aggressive and hot-headed and dripping in machismo. No longer charmingly sarcastic with a gentle side, now he was just mean.

As soon as you two were back in your room, however, that all melted away. He would cuddle up to you, apologise, and thank you for always bringing him home no matter how ungodly the hour. If he woke up before you, he would tidy your room as a way to return the favour and leave a snack on your bedside table.

The snack was always accompanied by a yellow post-it note which he took from your desk (you didn’t even use those, but you kept them around specifically for him) with a dumb doodle or lots of hearts or both.

You weren’t happy about this development, but you didn’t do anything to stop it. It was his life, not yours. And you weren’t really in the business of speaking up about things that bothered you anyway. You kept your head down and your mouth shut, and stayed out of Jeongmin’s way.

Until one fateful Tuesday, about two months after the first invitation.

Sunghoon rarely talked to you about his newfound friends; he knew you didn’t approve of them and he didn’t want to upset you. This particular piece of news, though, was just too exciting to keep from you. After all, you were his best friend. He wanted you to be a part of his new life.

“Guess what the guys and I are doing on Sunday,” he said. You nodded for him to continue, somewhat distracted by the cinnamon rolls you were baking together in his kitchen, not entirely sure when ‘the guys’ had become a thing. “Jeongmin’s cousin is in town, and he has a fancy new car. We’re gonna hotwire it, drive it down to the cliff, and set it on fire.”

You stopped dead in your tracks, your jaw dropping open. “What? Sunghoon, that’s too dangerous.”

“That’s why we’ll do it at the cliff. There’s nothing around there that could burn down,” he explained, like that made it okay.

If it weren’t for his completely serious tone and expression, you would have thought he was joking. You set down the mixing bowl you were holding. “No, you could get hurt,” you said, adding, “And what if you get caught? That’s grand larceny and arson.”

“The guy’s an asshole anyway,” he said nonchalantly, not listening to you.

“That doesn’t make it legal, Hoon. Or safe. I’m serious. You can’t do that.”

He folded his arms across his chest, scowling. “You’re just jealous,” he said.

“I don’t want you to go to jail,” you corrected.

“No, you’re jealous I finally have friends other than you. Like, cool, normal, friends,” he snapped, angrier than you’d ever seen him.

Never in your life had he raised his voice at you. You pretty much never fought, aside from short bouts of time when one of you was upset for one reason or another, but you always smoothed things over through calm, measured conversations. Not arguments like this.

You paused, stepping away from the counter, from him. “Is that what this is about? I’m not good enough for you?” you asked, your voice soft.

He had never once indicated he was unhappy with your friendship, with your relaxed hangouts in each other’s houses and comfortable outings to cinemas and restaurants and bookstores. But clearly he wanted something else: to be cool, normal, and have friends that weren’t shy recluses.

You trusted him. He was your whole world, and you’d always assumed you were his too.

“That’s not what I meant,” he said, pulling back his words as you turned to leave. He followed you, pleading, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

“I’m going home,” you stated firmly, rushing out of his house and slamming the front door shut behind you.

——————————

By Sunday evening, you cracked. You had been avoiding Sunghoon for the last two days, and both of your families had noticed. You couldn’t stop thinking about that night, if he would be caught, if he was going to be okay. There was no way you’d be able to talk to his parents without him finding out unless he was out at figure skating training, so you confided in your dad. And he called Sunghoon’s mom right then and there.

“You did the right thing, Y/N. I’m proud of you,” your dad said after he hung up, patting your head.

“It doesn’t feel like I did,” you mumbled, your insides twisting and twisting away.

“I know, honey.” Your dad rubbed your shoulders comfortingly, before offering, “Do you want to go out for ice cream? Take your mind off it? I can call off work.”

You clung to him for a few more seconds, then let go. “I just want to be alone for a while, if that’s okay,” you said, retreating to your bedroom while your dad left for his night shift at the plant.

You weren’t sure how long you lay in your bed staring at the ceiling in complete silence, numbed by guilt, before your bedroom door swung open and Sunghoon barged into your room. In your state, you hadn’t even heard him enter your house. You scrambled to your feet.

“Did you fucking snitch on me?”

He was in all black, with a graphic t-shirt over a long sleeved polo, ripped jeans, and boots. With his hair styled and jewellery on, he must’ve been ready to leave the house, because that was how he normally dressed to meet Jeongmin and his gang.

“Hoon-”

“I told you that in confidence,” he snapped, shutting your bedroom door. His eyes, narrowed in hatred, glowered at you. You walked over to him and reached for his hand, but he slapped you away, recoiling at your touch like you were a hot stove. “How could you do this to me?”

“I was worried about you,” you said, your tone begging, mollifying. You rarely saw him this angry, and never had that anger been directed at you.

“Bullshit. My parents just screamed at me for two hours. Jeongmin’s gonna be pissed at me,” he fumed. “You weren’t fucking worried about me. You didn’t want me to be doing things without you.”

You dug your nails into your palms, trying to stop yourself from crying. It seemed to work, for a while, anyway. “Is that how you see me? As a needy pest who won’t let you go?” you asked, each word a chore to get out, your eyes already stinging. Not from his words, but from the sheer contempt in his expression.

Had he really spent the last sixteen years so desperate to get rid of you, like you were a persistent barnacle on a ship that refused to leave? Did he hate you that much? How had you never known?

He took a step towards you. His eyes were cold, his jaw was clenched, and you couldn’t even recognise him. You stepped back cautiously.

“Oh, like you’re some perfect angel,” he spat through gritted teeth.

“I’m not. I just don’t want you to throw away your future. I-”

“You know what your problem is?” he shouted, cutting you off. He took yet another step forward, and you again stepped back. The backs of your knees hit your bed frame. “You’re a hypocrite. You hold everyone to such a high moral standard that no one is ever good enough for you. Not me, and not yourself. That’s why you fucking hate yourself so much.”

You couldn’t speak. Your heart was firmly lodged in your throat. For several agonising seconds, the only things you could hear were his furious breathing and your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

“I think you should go home,” you finally said after a long pause. Your voice was shaking as you held back tears. “We can talk about this when you’ve calmed down-”

“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down!”

Sunghoon raised his hand to push back his fringe, but you didn’t know that. Because when his hand came up, you flinched.

He lowered his hand immediately, only then noticing that he’d backed you into a corner. Instead of shock or anger or hurt, there was nothing but pure, unadulterated fear in your eyes.

“Did you think I was going to hit you?” he whispered, stepping back.

You squeezed your eyes shut and turned away, walking to your open window and resting your hands on the windowsill. “Please leave,” you said simply, fighting to keep your voice stable as tears began to roll down your face, not looking at him.

He stood and waited for a minute, watching you. You could feel his gaze. But when you refused to turn back around, he sighed and left. You heard your bedroom door close, and then your front door a few seconds later, and then it was so, so quiet.

——————————

You and Sunghoon avoided each other like the plague after that fight, although that torture hadn’t lasted long. Within two weeks, he’d withdrawn from school and vanished. His parents told you he’d gone to a boarding school in a different town, but they didn’t say where or why.

You never saw him again.

Being in your hometown for those last two years of high school was difficult for you. Having to live just down the road from his family home, constantly surrounded by all of your old haunts, made it hard for you to get him out of your head.

After high school you’d gone to a small university to do your first year with a conditional offer from your dream school in your back pocket. You needed time to save up money, and you were hoping to secure a scholarship with your first year grades.

You’d been lucky enough to make a new friend, Heeseung. Like you, he was only in that university temporarily to work his way into a scholarship. Your relationship was initially one of convenience and comfort — neither of you were particularly keen on mixing with the other students you never planned to see again after your first year — but you quickly became genuine friends.

You kept each other motivated, and both managed to secure transfers before your second year started. In fact, you’d done so well that your then-university had begged you to stay, offering you scholarship after scholarship and full fee remissions. But you both turned them down. You had loftier ambitions.

Once you moved away to university, things got better. Of course, the vestiges remained. You still had Sunghoon’s Spotify playlists in your account, your shared arcade membership card in your wallet, and some of his socks mixed in with your own. Before you fought he’d borrowed your favourite pair of red shrimp socks, and now you were never going to get them back.

But you didn’t think about him nearly as often as you used to. He was no longer a ghost living in your head, but a will-o’-the-wisp that occasionally caught your eye when you saw something that reminded you of him.

And now you and Heeseung were standing in the foyer of your new dorm with nothing from your past but a small suitcase each, in the university you’d been chasing your entire lives, ready to start your second year.

“We made it,” Heeseung whispered to you, still not fully comprehending it all. You were really here.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous in my life,” you whispered back.

“Me too. If we weren’t roommates I’d be shitting bricks by now.”

The school had been gracious enough to allow you and Heeseung to live together in a small apartment within the music students’ dorm, since you were pretty sure at least one of you would have gone bonkers if you were separated. You would be sharing the floor with another similar apartment housing three students who would meet you in the foyer to help you move in.

Right on time, one of them (you presumed) came bounding down the stairs excitedly. He broke into a broad smile the second he saw your suitcases, his originally stern-looking features softening instantly as he did.

“Are you the transfers? Nice to meet you! I’m Jay. We spoke on the phone.”

You spoke up first when it became clear Heeseung was far too anxious to talk. “Hi! I’m Y/N, and this is Heeseung. Nice to meet you too.”

“Welcome aboard,” Jay said, easily picking up your suitcase before you could object. Heeseung fumbled for his own. “My roommates are just finishing getting your apartment ready. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Shouldn’t that be the school’s job?” you asked, following him up the stairs.

“This place can be a bit of a circus, believe it or not,” Jay remarked, making you and Heeseung exchange glances. When you reached the fifth floor, not a single hair on his head was out of place even though your bag was heavy as fuck.

“Thank you,” you said.

“No problem. That’s us over there,” he said, pointing to the first door on the level, “and this is you guys.”

The apartment was modestly-sized and simple, but clean and otherwise perfect. Jay introduced you to his first roommate Jake, who was sitting at the kitchen counter when you arrived.

“Thanks for setting all of this up for us. It must’ve been a lot of work,” Heeseung said, finally speaking after you elbowed him in the side (be normal, man). “You’ve been so helpful.”

“It’s nothing. Jay and I both transferred here last semester too, so we know how hard it can be,” Jake said kindly, waving away your gratitude. “Our other roommate did the same for us back then.”

“Speaking of which, Hoon! Come out here and meet the new students!” Jay called.

A third voice came floating from down the corridor. “Coming!”

When the aforementioned roommate emerged from the corridor, your heart stopped. Your blood turned to lead in your veins. Your ears began ringing, the sound so loud it washed away almost everything else.

You could barely hear Jake as he said, “Hoon, these are our new neighbours, Heeseung and Y/N. Guys, this is-”

“Sunghoon,” you finished. His name came out of your mouth, but it didn’t sound like your voice. Your hands were numb.

“Y/N,” Sunghoon said, at the exact same time.

Although he was taller now, with a broader frame, a sharper jaw, and a deeper voice, it was still him. He was frozen in shock, looking right at you, unblinking. He had on a white t-shirt that read ‘rise above’ that he’d had since the first year of high school — you bought it for him for his fifteenth birthday. It had been massively oversized on his thin body back then, but now he filled it out nicely.

Right there, as you stood in the kitchen of your new apartment, all the guilt and heartbreak and mourning that you thought you had left behind in the child that died three years ago came rushing back to you, squeezing the air from your lungs.

And in that moment you were reminded yet again of the lesson you had spent the last three years of your life learning day after day after day: movies lied.

The real heartbreak was never the big fight. It was every time after when the other person crossed your mind in idle thoughts or memories, every time you saw or heard something that reminded you of them, every time you pulled up their contact on your phone and read the distant timestamp of your final conversation.

It was every belonging of theirs they left behind in your childhood bedroom, and everything you owned that had been a gift from them. It was every food you ever ate together and every song you ever listened to together and every place you ever went to together.

It was every time they reached out from beyond the grave and touched some part of your life and you had to lose them all over again.

You looked at him, and he looked at you. His eyes hadn’t changed at all. You were sixteen once more: standing in his kitchen making cinnamon rolls, locking your bedroom door behind him after the last time you spoke because you were scared he would return, desperately running away from him in the school halls.

He glanced down at your hands, your fingers laced together to hide the fact that they were shaking. You had a habit of doing that when you were nervous. Around your left wrist was a silver bracelet, one that he’d gotten you on a whim six years ago. You still had it. And you still wore it. And it was you.

Jay smiled cheerily, oblivious. “Do you guys know each other?”

——————————

Your first week of your second year was amazing. You were finally at your dream university in your dream major, with a full-ride scholarship under your belt and your best friend right by your side. It was everything you and Heeseung had worked so hard for.

The building you lived in was a dorm just for music scholars, a small, close-knit group of under thirty students. Most of them, like Jay and Jake, also bled money.

But your experience was somewhat soured by one thing: Park Sunghoon. He was everywhere.

Of course, that was to be expected. It was a small cohort, the only new friends you’d made so far were his roommates, and you were literally neighbours.

After the day you’d moved in, neither of you had spoken a word to each other. You ran into him constantly, and you were always going to classes and grabbing lunch together, but you’d never talked to him directly. He was just always there.

On Thursday, as the five of you left a lecture together, Sunghoon politely excused himself. “I won’t join you guys for lunch today. I need to pick up something from the shops.”

So you found yourself sitting in the food court with Heeseung, Jay, and Jake. When the conversation naturally fizzled out, it was only quiet for a few seconds before Jay clapped his hands together and asked, “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s the deal with you and Sunghoon?”

You looked at Heeseung for guidance. On that first night, you’d already told him everything. He shrugged.

“Uh- well. We grew up together, and when we were sixteen we had a falling out,” you answered cautiously.

“Then you lost touch?” Jake frowned.

“You could say that,” you said, reaching for Heeseung’s hand under the table and adding, “I think Sunghoon should probably be the one to tell you the rest, though. When he’s ready.”

——————————

At Heeseung’s insistence (listen, you’re clearly still hurting over this, and it would be good for you to talk to him, at least), you bullied yourself into texting Sunghoon at the end of your first week. With trembling hands, you asked him if he would meet you in the botanical gardens on Sunday. He replied almost instantly: what time?

Waiting for him on a park bench, chronically early as you always were, you were bouncing your leg so much that the entire bench was shaking. The last time you’d spoken to him was over three years ago, when you’d pleaded with him to get out of your room.

You had drawn up an agreement with Heeseung that morning: if things went south, you would send him an S.O.S. message so he could come by and pretend to whisk you away to tend to an Urgent Apartment Matter. You even programmed your phone to text him automatically if you pressed your power button five times in a row. He called you ‘insufferably paranoid’, which you took as a compliment.

Sunghoon was a minute late, and, by the looks of it, just as anxious as you were.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

He sat down next to you, a polite distance away. It was almost like how you used to sit in your neighbourhood park late at night after you’d aged out of the playground, eating convenience store ramen together until a concerned stranger or annoyed police officer told you to go home.

You both looked around for a while before you couldn’t take it anymore and bit the bullet. “How have you been?” you asked, stilted.

“Good. I’ve been good.” He cleared his throat and rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans, nodding at nothing. “What about you?”

“Good.” You paused too, searching your brain for something to say.

“I went to military school,” he blurted out, knowing you were too polite to ask him directly. “Um- for the last two years of high school. That’s why I disappeared.”

Military school? So the rumours floating around the town had been right.

“Madam Choi kept asking me about you,” you told him after a while. Madam Choi was the sweet, grandmotherly owner of the convenience store on the corner of your street who always asked how you were doing and chastised you for eating too many snacks even though your unhealthy diets kept her shop afloat. It was the only topic you could think of that wasn’t too painful to bring up.

Sunghoon laughed at that, a sound you hadn’t heard for years. He loosened up, and you did too. Your awkwardness gradually began melting away as he told you about Jay and Jake, about his time at military school, and about all the cool spots in the city you should check out. You told him about Heeseung, your previous university, and how you didn’t know how to navigate your new university’s portal because it was designed to frustrate.

Conspicuously, neither of you brought up the past. Reminiscing was off the table, an arrangement implicitly reached between you two at some point during the conversation. Even when you finally worked up the courage to ask what you’d been wanting to ask for the last three years, you still couldn’t bring yourself anywhere close to acknowledging what happened.

“Are you still mad at me?” you asked.

Sunghoon didn’t hesitate for even a second, which made you smile. “No.”

As he continued talking, however, it became clear that he was considering every word he said before he said it. He was careful, deliberate, holding back.

“I’ve grown up since then,” he said slowly. “I haven’t been mad for a long time. Actually, I wanted to thank you for doing what you did. I could have been sitting in jail by now.” He clasped his hands together and turned to you. “Are you still mad at me?”

You were equally as assured and quick with your own response. “No. I was never mad at you.”

“You should’ve been,” he joked. “I caused you so much trouble, always waking you up in the middle of the night and crashing in your room.”

You laughed and shook your head. “I’m happy things worked out for you, Hoon. And that you got into university despite everything that happened,” you said.

“Thanks,” he smiled. Although the rest of him looked older and more mature, his smile remained the same.

“If I’d done those things I never would’ve gotten a second chance,” you mused, more to yourself than to him, but he heard it anyway.

Instantly, his mood soured.

“Okay, so did you rat on me to protect me and my future? Or because you were jealous? Because that sounds like jealousy,” he snapped.

Shit. You reached for your phone and pressed the home button five times. But he wasn’t wrong.

Yes, you had been worried about him as you’d said back then, but you were also jealous. Not of his new friends, but of his life. His parents were rich, and he had two of them. If he had gone out that night and been caught, there was a non-zero chance that he could have gotten off with a slap on the wrist.

His parents had the money to ship him off to a private military school for two whole years at the drop of a hat, and he’d been able to come straight to your dream university. If you had joined him and Jeongmin that night, you would’ve been locked up without question.

“You ruined my life,” Sunghoon hissed, his eyes now dark and his body tense. “Do you know that?”

“You ruined your own life when you were planning to commit arson and didn’t listen to me when I told you to stop,” you countered.

He set his jaw and turned away with a scoff. “I can’t believe you.”

In the distance, you saw Heeseung jogging over to you. He must’ve been hiding in another part of the park, waiting. You weren’t the only insufferably paranoid one, it seemed.

“This isn’t how I wanted today to go, Hoon,” you sighed.

“Don’t call me that,” he spat, standing up.

“Y/N!” Heeseung shouted as he reached the bench. His face fell the moment he saw the look in your eyes. “There is an Urgent Apartment Matter. We must tend to it right away,” he stuttered, grabbing your hand and yanking you to your feet before Sunghoon even had the time to blink.

The two of you ran.

——————————

You and Sunghoon had swiftly gone right back to ignoring each other, which was pretty impressive considering you were almost always together. Jay and Jake seemed annoyingly hell-bent on taking you and Heeseung under their wing — as fellow transfers themselves, they wanted to help you acclimatise — and Sunghoon didn’t have any other friends. So he was constantly with you in classes, at parties, or hanging out in your goddamn apartment.

He spent more time staring at you than he would have liked to admit. In between gaps in conversations, or when you were distracted by one of Jay’s dissertation-length speeches about some inane topic or stupid fact, he got the chance to really look at you for the first time in years. Every time he did he felt a strange ache in his chest. You were like an actor he already knew playing a character he’d never seen before.

“Dude, why would you even say that? You called them a hypocrite?” Jake chastised, when Sunghoon finally revealed the details behind your falling out in high school a few days after Sunday.

“I just can’t imagine you as that kind of guy,” Jay said, stunned. He was still trying to picture Park Sunghoon, the would-be arsonist.

Often, Sunghoon found himself staring not when Jay was rambling or Jake was telling you a joke, but specifically when you were with Heeseung. There was something about the way you two interacted that made his heart sting. You were comfortable with him, and he with you.

You knew he liked to sit on the inside of restaurant booths facing the door, and he knew your Subway order by heart. You kept track of the stock of his favourite drinks in your fridge, and he always had a spare charger in his bag for all the times you forgot to bring your own. You were so in tune with each other that you would tell when the other wanted to go home without needing to ask and built effortlessly on each other’s jokes. You even kind of talked the same.

“And then you said it again? Are you serious?” Jay groaned in frustration when he heard the park story. Everyone had noticed the considerable shift in mood between you and Sunghoon since Sunday, but no one had dared to mention it.

“They’re trying so hard with you, man. Why would you do that?” Jake sighed.

Sunghoon pulled hard at his hair, equally frustrated, and flopped face down on the sofa. “I don’t know! It just came out.”

There was a substantial part of him that kmew it was because he was scared he hadn’t changed. That he was still the kind of person who called their best friend a hypocrite and accused them of being jealous when they tried to protect him. That you could see that, and that Jay and Jake would realise it soon too.

The other day at the juice bar Heeseung bought you a warm honey lemon tea. When he ordered it, you and Sunghoon immediately looked at each other before turning away. Windows open to air out the stench of cigarette smoke. Your secret stash of lemons and honey. Yellow post-it notes on your bedside table. All the hours you spent taking care of him, even as he spiralled out of control.

You hadn’t even asked for it; Heeseung somehow knew you had a sore throat that day without you telling him. Apparently he could hear it in your voice, which was (according to him) slightly scratchy and hoarse. Sunghoon couldn’t hear a thing, though. You sounded the exact same to him.

It was clear that Heeseung was familiar with the person you were now, that he knew you, and he knew how to be your best friend. That was a skill that Sunghoon had lost years ago, and clearly he didn’t quite know you anymore.

At the park you hadn’t cried once, although he was sure the sixteen-year-old you would have. Perhaps you just cried less now. Perhaps you’d given up on him and no longer expected anything else from him but to be disappointed.

“You need to apologise to them,” Jake scolded.

“They won’t forgive me,” Sunghoon mumbled into the sofa fabric.

Jay threw a pillow at him. “No offence, Hoon, but from what you’ve told us I think you’re a pretty shit judge of character.”

——————————

You had the apartment to yourself that Thursday night because Heeseung had rented a studio to practise after-hours and wouldn’t be back till sunrise. Someone knocked on your door. When you didn’t answer it immediately, a painfully familiar voice rang out from the other side.

“It’s me.”

Dread was not an emotion you’d ever associated with Sunghoon, but it was all you felt when you opened the door for him. When you were kids he never waited for you to do so; he always just let himself in. You sat down at the kitchen counter together, side by side.

“Since when do you watch Queer Eye?” he asked, noticing your laptop screen.

“Heeseung introduced me to it,” you said, pushing a glass of water across the counter to him. His face darkened at the name, but you chose to ignore it. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Sunghoon bit his lip. “I wanted to say I’m sorry,” he started, wooden. While he’d seemed guarded and on edge on Sunday, now he seemed scared. “For what I said to you. And for- for everything.”

You sat rigidly on the bar stool, self-conscious, not knowing what to say.

“I had a lot of time to think over the last three years, and I realised I was insecure. I was so desperate to be seen as ‘cool’ and Jeongmin knew that. You were right; he was preying on me because he could tell how much I wanted to be a part of his world. You saw right through me because you knew- you know me better than anyone. So I lashed out at you.

“I tried so hard to put that part of my life behind me — I never told Jay or Jake about it, even — and when you came back I panicked. It was a reminder of all the fucked up things I did and the person I used to be. I didn’t want to have to deal with it, and I took it out on you again.

“I’m sorry. And thank you. For always being there for me to pick up the pieces. I never deserved that sort of kindness.”

He watched you nervously, waiting for a response. You reached for the rubber band around your wrist and snapped it. It didn’t hurt, but it helped to distract you. He glanced down at your hand, recognising another of your old habits.

“Stop doing that,” he chided, his eyes watering. At that moment, he sounded just like he used to when you were younger. You remembered him saying those exact words in that exact tone. Of all the things he had said, that was what made you want to cry.

“I missed you so much,” you finally admitted after a long pause, inhaling shakily. “I felt like I ruined our friendship. I never stopped wondering if I made the right decision, I- I thought I’d lost you forever.”

He wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tight. His hugs were just comforting as they had been when you were growing up. He was much stronger than you remembered, although perhaps you should have expected that. He’d changed his cologne since.

“You have nothing to feel guilty about,” he told you, stroking your hair gently. When you separated his eyes were shining with tears. He laughed, sniffling, holding your face in his hands.

“Can we be friends again?” you whispered.

“I’d like that,” he said, letting you go and hesitating for a few seconds before he next spoke. “Do you know what motivated me to change when I was in military school?”

“What?” You hugged him one last time before unconsciously reaching for your rubber band. Catching this, he raised an eyebrow and glanced pointedly at your wrist. You stopped, feeling scolded.

“The last time we talked back in high school, you thought I was going to hit you,” he began carefully. He took a deep breath, suddenly unable to look you in the eye now. “Seeing how scared you were, the fear on your face, I- I never wanted to make anyone feel like that again. Especially not you. I’m sorry.”

He’d started crying. He hardly ever cried when you were kids. You wiped away his tears with your shirt sleeve.

“Don’t be a stranger, okay?” he begged, clutching onto you with a vice grip. Between you and him he had always been the calm one, but now he was shaking and you could feel it.

You squeezed his hand. “I won’t.”

——————————

Something in you was repaired that day.

You were telling the truth when you said you had never stopped feeling guilty about what you did. Not being able to speak to Sunghoon after, not even knowing where he was or what he was doing, it had wrecked you.

For years you’d lived with the thought that the only person you’d ever trusted had always secretly resented you. Maybe everyone did — maybe you were a pest, a hypocrite, a loser. It made it hard for you to form new connections. Heeseung had chipped away at your defences for months before you felt safe enough to call him your friend.

But now you were sitting on the floor of Sunghoon’s living room, sharing a vodka Sprite with Heeseung while you watched the others play Mario Kart, and everything was fine.

You hadn’t spent too much time with Sunghoon alone, although the five of you were constantly together. Jake had even joked about blocking off the fifth floor from the other scholars and just leaving both of your front doors open to form one big apartment for the five of you. Functionally, it wouldn’t be that different from how you were already living.

“I’m hungry,” Heeseung piped up, pouting and nudging you. “Go buy me some chips?”

“Why can’t you go?” you asked.

“My head hurts,” he whined. If he was dehydrated, the smallest drop of alcohol could give him splitting headaches. “Don’t kick a man while he’s down.”

Before you could retort, Sunghoon handed him his Switch controller. “Hee, you play. I’ll go with them,” he offered.

“Thanks, man. Use my rewards card,” Heeseung said, handing you his wallet instead of just taking the rewards card out and passing that to you.

You used to joke that you could so easily max out all of his credit cards if you wanted to, but he swiftly pointed out that you also had a habit of giving him your entire wallet when he asked to borrow money or your transport card.

“I still can’t believe we've been in this city for just over a month and you already have six rewards cards,” you laughed, putting on your shoes.

As you and Sunghoon were walking out the door, Heeseung was still shouting, “Think of the points, dude! The points!”

The convenience store was just across the road from your dorm building, which was, as its name suggested, pretty convenient. Not as good for your heart health and nutrition, but whatever. It was drizzling slightly, but not enough for either of you to have bothered with an umbrella.

“Heeseung is so obsessed with collecting rewards points,” you joked, fiddling with his rewards card.

Sunghoon chuckled. “Is he always like that?”

You nodded. “Since I met him. You like him, though, right?”

“Yeah, I do. He’s fun,” he said. He wasn’t lying; he did actually like Heeseung. But he would be lying if he said your closeness to him didn’t bother him at all. Sunghoon didn’t want to think too much about the possible implications of his jealousy.

“I’m glad. I really like Jay and Jake, too,” you told him, pushing open the convenience store door. “I’ll go get Deungie’s chips, because he likes some weird obscure flavours.”

“I’ll get the normal stuff for everyone else,” Sunghoon said, asking, “the usual for you, yeah?”

You thought of the convenience store in your hometown, of Madam Choi, of your regular weekend sleepovers back in school. Rehearsed and practised, you two were in and out of the store in under two minutes. What did that say about either of you, that you were so skilled at buying snacks that you worked together like a well-oiled machine?

The drizzle was marginally heavier when you left. It was a short walk, but Sunghoon took off his white baseball cap and fixed it atop your head anyway.

“Thanks, Hoon,” you smiled. You never bothered fighting him when he did things like that for you; you hadn’t as a kid and you still didn’t now. He wouldn’t do it unless he wanted to, and he wasn’t the type to accept your refusals of help.

But it felt different years later, and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked, amused.

You quickly averted your gaze, not having noticed you’d been looking at him. “It’s just weird to have you back,” you said.

You’d had this conversation with him at least a dozen times over the last month. It still hadn’t quite sunk in yet that he was back in your life and you were back in his. That you hadn’t destroyed the life of your best friend by being a hypocrite.

Since then, you’d spent a lot of time thinking about the person you used to be: full of self-loathing and insecurity and fear that you would eventually ruin every relationship you had. Heeseung had been slightly hurt that you hadn’t told him about Sunghoon when it all happened. You admitted to him that you were scared he would think of you as a bad person.

Sunghoon smiled. “Is it a good weird or a bad weird?”

“It’s a good weird. I missed this,” you answered, holding up the bag of snacks in your hand. As was your usual routine, you carried the snacks and he carried the drinks, having immediately fallen into step.

He playfully bumped into you as you walked, though not nearly hard enough to knock you off balance. “I missed you,” he said, before reaching for his keys.

The conversation was the same, but the butterflies in your stomach were definitely a new development.

——————————

Since you reconnected, Sunghoon hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you.

“Dude, are you jealous of Heeseung?” Jay asked him one night, out of the blue, after you and Heeseung left their apartment to head back to your own. Well, it wasn’t entirely out of the blue; even he couldn’t deny that.

“Can’t I be jealous of my ex-best friend’s new best friend?” Sunghoon replied, already defensive.

“That’s not why you’re jealous, though, is it?” Jay pressed. “You’re posturing around him and you can’t stop looking at Y/N.”

“Shut up.” He was right, and deep down Sunghoon knew it.

He was never going to be your best friend again, and he wasn’t trying to be. Neither of you were the same people you had been three years ago, and you were different enough that if you met now, you probably wouldn’t have been close. You both had new friends, people who suited your current selves better.

He wanted to be something else.

“You need to tone down the staring, man. It’s getting a little too obvious,” Jake said. “Even Heeseung mentioned it to me the other day.”

Sunghoon swore under his breath. “He did?” Heeseung, of all people, noticing — had he mentioned it to you?

“For what it’s worth, I’m pretty sure they’re just friends,” Jay added, trying to be comforting.

Sunghoon sighed and finished his drink. It was a gin and tonic which he’d made so strong that it was basically straight gin with a drizzle of tonic water. He winced.

“I know, but they do everything together,” he mumbled, just barely self-aware enough to realise he was whining. “That used to be me.”

“They’re happy, you’re happy, and you guys are friends again. Isn't that what you wanted? Why focus on the past when you could be focusing on right now?” Jake asked.

“Because they trusted me for sixteen years and I basically told them I’d secretly hated them the whole time,” Sunghoon said, his voice rising. “I ruined them, and I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

Jay scowled and crossed his arms, kicking Sunghoon’s foot with his own. “You didn’t ruin anyone. They’re fine. You’re not the only thing that’s ever happened to them, and if you keep thinking like that you’ll never fully repair your relationship.”

Sunghoon stared at his empty glass. He needed another drink.

——————————

“It’s been two months since we moved here,” Heeseung told you randomly one day. You were at a ramen bar for dinner with him and Sunghoon to celebrate getting through the first half of the semester. Also, you were all out of food at home and neither of you were in the mood to cook.

“Has it?” You checked the date on your phone. Sure enough, he was right. You hadn’t even realised.

“It doesn’t feel like it,” Sunghoon said. You’d started looking at Sunghoon differently.

Firstly, he looked different. He towered over his former self, his shoulders were much wider than you recalled, and he’d lost some fat on his face, making his cheeks and jaw more angular. He wore his black hair longer than he used to and he didn’t have nearly as many dark colours in his wardrobe.

He’d always been good-looking, but you had never really recognised that before. Now, though, it was always on your mind. Now, when he smiled at you or fixed your hair after he put his cap on your head or leaned over you to plug in his laptop in lecture theatres, you got nervous.

His gestures had always made you feel warm and comfortable, but now they were also starting to make you feel shy. You’d never been particularly touchy with him even as kids — you shared beds with a wall of pillows in between you two — but now you couldn’t even bear the thought of holding onto his sleeve in a crowd so you wouldn’t get separated.

“Oi.” Heeseung kicked you hard under the table and pointed at your nearly empty bowl. “Earth to Y/N. Are you done?”

They were both staring at you. How long had you been zoning out?

“What? Yeah, I’m done. Did you say something?” you asked.

Heeseung laughed and pressed his index finger to the top of your head, pretending to push you down like a button, which he always did when he was making fun of you. He definitely knew what you’d been lost in thought about (do you know how much Sunghoon stares at you nowadays? I think he hates me).

“Heeseung said he’s meeting Jay and Jake at the studio,” Sunghoon filled you in, much more helpful. “So we can go home, or if you want we can walk around some more.” He sounded expectant, like he was hoping you’d agree to the latter. You did.

——————————

Once you saw Heeseung off at the bus stop, Sunghoon brought you to a run-down building four streets away from the ramen bar. In the hip, fashionable district of the city, amidst the trendy shops and cafés, the mould and peeling paint and water damage of the building made it stick out like a blister.

You looked at the building, and then at him, and then back at the building. “Is this an assassination attempt?” you asked.

“Trust me,” he said, pushing the rusty steel door open with his foot.

“That’s not an answer. And your refusal to touch the door with your hands doesn’t exactly inspire trust,” you laughed, but you followed him with no hesitation.

It felt almost like when you used to go exploring the outskirts of your hometown by yourselves, far too late at night for kids your age. But this time, you didn’t have any snacks with you, nor games to keep yourselves occupied.

Sunghoon made a face at you and ushered you inside. “Shut up. I’m the city native here.”

“You’ve only been here a year longer than me,” you pointed out, looking around. The building wasn’t so much a building as it was a stairwell. Stuffy, dark, and dingy, it made you feel suffocated. “I’m going to die here,” you declared, sighing in resignation.

He rolled his eyes. “Oh my god. It’s not even that bad.”

As if on cue, the door slammed shut behind you, the sound echoing ominously in the tight space. What little light that had been coming in from the street lamps outside disappeared, except for a sliver of amber forcing its way through a gap in the door frame. He cursed under his breath.

“Hoon,” you called, desperately trying to spot him in the darkness, the rising panic clear in your words. “I swear, if I die tonight I’ll never stop haunting you.”

His reply came immediately, calm and measured, reassuring. “I’m right here. Give me your hand.”

You turned around at the sound of his voice and reached out blindly in front of you, hitting his shoulder. He found your hand and took it in his, the feeling of his palm against yours somehow soothing and stressful at the same time.

“You’re still scared of the dark?” he asked, joking, trying to ease your fear.

He used to scold you all the time for always sleeping with your light on, but no matter how many articles he sent you about why sleeping in the dark was important for healthy melatonin production, you never listened. Whenever he slept over in your room, he used an eye mask.

“Shut up, please.” Your voice was quiet and unconvincing; actually, you wanted nothing more than for him to keep talking. You couldn’t see anything, and all you had to ground you was his voice and his hand in yours.

He squeezed your hand, softening his tone. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise it would be this dark. It’s worth it, I promise.”

He led you up three flights of stairs by the hand and walked face first into what you assumed to be a locked door. “Ow. Motherfucker.”

You cackled at that.

The room (if you could call it that, since it was barely bigger than a cupboard) was lit with a single filament light bulb hanging from the ceiling. Aside from a couple of cardboard boxes, some pillows, and a bean bag, it was empty.

“That’s your old bean bag. The one you had in your room,” you said, recognising the green fabric immediately. You tensed when he brushed past you to shut the door to the room (supply cupboard?), but you tried your best to ignore it.

“Yeah, I brought it with me. I get homesick sometimes, so it helps,” he told you, sitting down on the small pile of pillows. You took the bean bag.

“It smells worse than I remembered,” you said, patting it. He pushed you in retaliation, laughing at you when you lost your balance.

“I have snacks and drinks in this box, and comics and books in that one,” he explained. “I wanted to get a mini-fridge in here but there isn’t an outlet.”

This was exactly how you used to spend your weekends when you didn’t have to study: snacks, drinks, and reading. Except now he handed you a can of hard seltzer instead of his yoghurt drinks of yore.

“Is this legal? Does the building owner know you’re here?” you asked, somewhat sceptical. But you opened the can anyway and took a sip. It was warm, but not unpleasant.

“Of course. I’m a law abiding citizen.”

“You just jaywalked about ten minutes ago.”

“I’m generally a law abiding citizen.” He dug around in the box some more and produced a can of sangria (you despised sangria), gesturing to the room. “What do you think? Pretty cool, right?”

“Very,” you nodded, making yourself comfortable in the bean bag. You felt like you were in high school again, although you didn’t recall your spine hurting nearly as much then. Perhaps you were getting old. You needed proper back support now.

He kicked off his shoes. “Fuck off,” he laughed.

“I wasn’t being sarcastic!” you yelled, before you noticed- “My red shrimp socks!”

“Oh, right.” He glanced down at his feet and started casually taking the socks off. “Do you want them back?”

You gagged. “Not right now, dumbo!”

He used to be able to detect your sarcasm perfectly, always reading your tone with no margin of error, although it was probably unfair to expect him to still be able to after so many years.

“Come home with me,” Sunghoon said suddenly, still looking at his (your) socks. You looked at him, puzzled. “After the semester ends. We should go visit our families,” he added.

You thought for a minute and agreed. “I think my dad misses you.”

“My parents miss you too.” He leant back against the wall behind him, closed his eyes, and rested his head on your shoulder, declaring, “I’m tired.”

The room was so dark and small and quiet. His black hair tickled your neck, even though you could tell he was trying not to move around too much. You prayed he couldn’t hear how fast your heart rate had become. He’d always been a sleepy drinker, and you’d all been drinking pretty liberally during dinner earlier.

You tried to relax, as much as you could with his body pressed against yours, and closed your eyes too. So you didn’t see him reach for your hand until you felt his touch directly. He took your hand and pulled it into his lap, interlocking his fingers with yours and fiddling with your silver bracelet. You froze, your breathing shallow and your muscles tense.

“This is from that old charity shop behind the fruit store,” he mumbled, running the pad of his thumb over your knuckles. You could feel the vibrations of his throat against your shoulder as he spoke. “I bought it for you.”

“Hoon,” you said softly, your eyes now wide open. He hummed in response, still playing with your hand. “What are you doing?”

His reply was a non-answer. “I miss home.”

Tentatively, you lifted your hand to his head, stroking his hair in what you hoped would be a comforting gesture. He stayed quiet. His closeness was simultaneously the most nerve-wracking and most comforting thing. In all your life, you couldn’t ever recall sitting like this with him.

“Are you okay? Do you want to talk?” you asked, pulling your hand away, worried now.

He grabbed it and returned it to his hair, moving even closer to you. “That feels nice,” he sighed. His breath was warm against your neck, while the tip of his nose was cold. It made you shiver. “I’m fine. I just haven’t been home in a while.”

You felt terrible for never really having thought about what his two years in military school, being ripped away from his family at such short notice, must’ve been like. As far as you were aware he didn’t get to visit his family until he graduated, and you only knew that because you spent your own high school graduation period locked up in your house to avoid running into him.

Against your best efforts, the guilt came rushing back. You closed your eyes again and continued playing with Sunghoon’s hair, just how he liked it.

——————————

Two weeks later, you still didn’t know what to make of that night. You told Heeseung everything and asked him if you were going insane.

“Do you like him?” Heeseung asked as you two got ready to leave the house. You were going out to get drinks with the others.

“I don’t know,” you groaned, yanking the windows shut much harder than you had intended. He jumped at the sound, and you winced. “Sorry. I hate this, man.”

“Do you want my opinion?” he asked.

“It depends on what it is.”

He snorted. “I think you do like him and you don’t want to admit it. Why is that?”

You rushed to put on your shoes as he waited for you. “I just- what if this fucks up our friendship a second time? There’s too much history between us, right?”

“Well, your heart doesn’t seem to think so,” he said, opening the front door. The neighbouring front door opened too, at the exact same time, and out stepped Sunghoon. He broke into a wide smile the second he saw you.

Heeseung lowered his head and said quietly, “Clearly, he doesn’t think so, either.”

——————————

You were far too nervous to drink even after the forty minute journey to the bar. Heeseung’s words hadn’t left your head for even a second, and he could definitely tell from the way he kept grinning at you.

“Are you sure you don’t want any?” Heeseung asked for the third time, offering you his glass. You had the same taste in drinks, so you usually shared.

“I don’t feel like drinking tonight,” you said, again for the third time.

“Guess who else isn’t drinking tonight,” he teased, way too loud, nodding to Sunghoon and his glass of water. That didn’t even make sense.

“Shut up,” you hissed. Heeseung giggled, already tipsy, and leaned on you. Sunghoon caught your eye from across the table and smiled. If he’d heard what the other man said, he showed no indication of it. You smiled back.

Jake returned to the table, tapping Heeseung on the shoulder.

“I can’t do it anymore. It’s your turn,” Jake sighed, exasperated, collapsing into his seat. He’d been on wingman duty for Jay, and (apparently, because you’d never been unlucky enough to witness it yourself) Jay was a terrible flirt.

Heeseung picked up his glass, downed what was left in it in one gulp, and set it back down on the table with a loud thump. “Alright, here I go,” he declared. You watched him carefully as he walked over to the bar, but he didn’t seem too drunk yet. He’d be fine.

At the booth behind where Jay was, however, you saw someone else who made your blood run cold.

“Hoon, don’t turn around, but Jeongmin is here,” you began. Jeongmin was staring intensely at you. Sunghoon sat up straight in alarm. Maybe you looked familiar to him and he was trying to place you.

Jake, ever the quick thinker, said, “You guys should leave. I’ll stay and let Jay and Hee know what happened.” Sunghoon was still frozen.

“Thanks, Jake. Pass these to Heeseung for me.” You fished your keys (Heeseung hadn’t brought his own) out of your pocket to toss them to Jake, grabbed Sunghoon by the arm, and dragged him out of the bar.

“Aren’t you sober? Why don’t your legs work?” you grunted, trying to shake him to attention and pull him down the street at the same time. A passing car revving its engine snapped him out of it, whatever it was.

“Fuck, yeah. Sorry,” Sunghoon mumbled. Before you could even ask him if he was okay, what you’d been trying so hard to avoid happened.

“Park Sunghoon.”

You could pick out Jeongmin’s voice anywhere. It was low, rough, and sharp. He somehow looked identical to how he looked back in high school, if only slightly thinner and more tired.

“You. You called the cops on us that night,” Jeongmin hissed. jabbing an accusatory finger at Sunghoon.

“I didn’t,” Sunghoon stated calmly, but you could tell he was on edge. He subtly pushed you behind him.

“Yeah, right. On the one night we get busted the new kid just happens to not show up,” Jeongmin scoffed, taking a step towards you.

Sunghoon held up his hands. “Look, man, I don’t want to fight. I didn’t call the cops on you.”

Jeongmin squared his shoulders and punched him hard in the jaw without warning. The silver ring he was wearing drew a deep red gash across Sunghoon’s cheek.

As if on auto-pilot, like it was second nature to him, Sunghoon immediately returned the blow with a punch of his own before you even had the time to think. You gasped, Jeongmin’s nose cracked, and Sunghoon took advantage of the distraction to kick him hard in the knee, knocking him to the ground.

Then he grabbed your hand and ran.

——————————

The walk back to the dorm was silent. Sunghoon’s lips were pressed tightly together, his eyebrows were furrowed, and his fists were clenched like he was trying not to cry. You remembered the days when you, not him, were usually the one who needed comforting.

It reassured you to some degree, though, that he wouldn’t hide his sadness from you like he used to. You reached for his hand the second you were out of Jeongmin’s line of sight and threaded your fingers between his. His knuckles were bruised.

Wordlessly, he handed you his keys and you unlocked his front door.

“Do you have a first aid kit?” you asked.

“Under the kitchen sink,” he said flatly, sitting down on the sofa.

You pulled it out from the back corner of the kitchen cabinet with great difficulty, joined him on the sofa, and started cleaning the cut on his jaw. He winced when the alcohol swab made contact with his skin.

“Sorry. I’m almost done,” you promised, tossing the swab aside and covering the cut up. It took all of twenty seconds. “Do you want to talk?”

Sunghoon closed his eyes and sighed, dropping his head. “I shouldn’t have hit him. I thought I was past that behaviour. I don’t-”

He stopped talking. You put your hand over his and waited. His bottom lip started to quiver as he held back tears.

“I don’t want to be that person again,” he sobbed, and the sound broke your heart.

Through the school grapevine you heard about fights with kids of neighbouring schools, breaking and entering, the like. But even now, so many years later, you didn’t fully know what he did with Jeongmin and his gang. You never asked, and he never volunteered that information.

He was crying. “I let my parents down. Every time I see them I just remember how angry they were at me. I’m a terrible son. Nothing I do will ever be able to erase that I humiliated them, I failed them, I brought shame to the whole family, I-”

You pulled him into a hug, feeling how his body trembled as he fought to speak.

“You’re not a terrible son, Hoon,” you whispered, as he sobbed into your hair.

He shook his head and pushed you away. “I shouldn’t have hit him. I think I broke his nose,” he repeated, almost frantic in his insistence. It wasn’t a state you’d seen him in before.

“But he hit you first,” you noted.

Finally, at your childish response, he cracked a small smile. “Weren’t you always the one who said violence was never the answer?” he laughed. His eyes were still glistening with tears, but at least he’d calmed down.

“Usually it isn’t, but I don’t subscribe to universal codes of human conduct anymore,” you told him. “Do you?”

He paused for a bit, staring at you, unable to find the words to reply. You smiled, swiped the tears on his cheeks away with a gentle hand, and got up to put away the first aid kit. It was late, and you were both tired.

“I love you,” Sunghoon said over his shoulder, his voice still thick with emotion. He said that often nowadays, although it wasn’t something he did previously. Neither of you ever felt the need to declare that when you were younger; it was a given.

“I love you too, Hoon,” you replied, still busy trying to make room in the cluttered space under his kitchen sink for the kit.

All the traces of his crying vanished when he next spoke. “No, I’m in love with you.”

You dropped the package of sponges in your hands. Your mind went blank.

There was something about the phrase ‘in love’ that you had never really understood. It implied love was all consuming, like a physical swallowing whole of your being. You felt love for others, but you’d never felt it so much that you were in the state of love.

Until you heard it from him. And then you realised you were already there.

“Say something. Please,” he begged, panicked by your silence.

“Hoon-”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” he mumbled, cutting you off, leaning back against the sofa with a hand over his eyes.

Sunghoon was not an interrupter. In all the years you’d known him, the only time he’d ever interrupted you was during your big final fight in your bedroom, when you’d snitched on him.

You left the first aid kit on the floor and sat down next to him. He didn’t move. You tapped the back of his hand to get him to look at you. Reluctantly, he did, but only through the gaps between his fingers.

“I’m in love with you too,” you admitted.

He was speechless at hearing his words echoed back to him, frozen for a good ten seconds before his gaze flickered down to your lips.

“Can I?” he asked, his voice quiet.

You nodded, and he kissed you. He placed one hand on the back of your neck to pull you closer while his other hand, bruised knuckles and all, grabbed one of your own. He laced your fingers together tightly, like he never wanted to let you go.

Your free hand ghosted over the line of his jaw, past the bandage you’d just put on his face and down his neck to his chest, warm and solid. He shivered under your touch.

“I love you, Hoon,” you breathed when you separated.

He gave you one last quick kiss on the tip of your nose. “I’ll never get tired of hearing that,” he whispered giddily, brushing his thumb across your bottom lip.

For the first few weeks after you reconnected, both of you had tried to return to what you once were. But it quickly became clear that that was never going to happen. Even after you had paved over the road, underneath the new asphalt the old potholes were still there, and nothing you did would ever fully correct them.

You had to look forward. Sunghoon was never going to be your best friend again, not like before. You would never get back your old relationship, full of childlike innocence and void of conflict. But that was okay. You were here, and he was here, and that was enough.

“Then I’ll keep saying it. I love you, I love you, I love you,” you repeated, leaning into his side and laying your head on his shoulder.

“I love you too. So much,” he said, putting his arm around you and letting you tuck your head into the crook of his neck. “You have no idea.”

He was tired of running and hiding from who he used to be, and going on the defensive and lashing out every time he was confronted with his past. He was done torturing his sixteen-year-old self.

You and him had something new. It wasn’t better, it wasn’t more. It was just different. You had your whole lives in front of you — an endless stretch of even, untouched, fresh road — waiting for you, and it would be stupid to focus on what lay behind you. You still had so much left to explore together.

——————————

thanks for reading <3

-minastras

#enhypen #sunghoon #park sunghoon #enhypen x reader #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon angst #enhypen angst #sunghoon imagines #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios

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mischieveousmayhem · 2 months

Note

Hiiii I was wondering if I could request a Deku x reader and jealous ochako??

It goes where reader and deku are childhood besties like pinky promised to marry each other when they get older besties but reader had to move away to another country due to being accepted into one of the most prestigious quirk schools in the world (besides UA) and she ends up coming back to Japan during the UA sports festival and her and deku have a sweet reunion but ochako seems to be a bit jealous of reader and tries to make it obvious abt how she feels abt deku but in the end ultimately decides her jealousy isn’t worth losing her friendship over and deku and reader end up together :3

"Until we meet again.."

a/n: ok this took me a minute to figure out what i wanted to do but please enjoy! i did see the other part anon , where you requested what the quirk is, i just spiced it up a little! also please request guys im so uninspired till i see requests.

pairing: Izuku Midoriya x Fem! Reader , one sided Izuku Midoriya x Ochako

Warnings: Jealousy, Cursing, Making Ochako act slightly fannon and annoying, Reader moves to Getmaly

Genre: Fluff , maybe slightly angsty?

Synopsis: Y/N L/N finally returns to Japan where she can finally see her bestest friend. However, someone (Ochako) has a crush on her best friend, Izuku. When Ochako sees the two super close she tries to steal all of Izuku's attention away from the reader. But is it worth the loss of making her crush, but friend hate her?

Readers Quirk: Energy Absorbtation. User can absorb energy around them (ex. electricity, heat, etc.) and release powerful bolts of pink bolts. User also has laser eyes and can absorb enough energy to fly . (Basically Starfires powers but using energy to create the power). However the user must be super careful! Absorbing too much energy can make them have too much adrenaline and lose control and go manic!

—

"HEY!" A small voice boomed across the playground.

The ash blonde and his friends turned to see to see who was yelling at them. The green haired boy sunk more thinking it was just another person who would treat him the same as the ash blonde, Kastuki Bakugou and his friends were.

"Leave him alone! He didn't do anything to you."

Looking at the figure it was a girl, she had H/C pigtails and beautiful S/C toned skin. This made Bakugou smirk. Really? A girl tryna challenge the great Katsuki.

"Ooohhh I'm so scared , what is a little weak girl gonna do." He sarcastically remarked.

She smiled, "Weak? You call this weak?" There are pink bolts forming around her hand.

"Wowww so your a night light?" One of the ash blondes friends say.

"Hmm, no." She takes the bolts and pulverizes a nearby petite plant. The ash blonde and the rest of the bullies eyes widened, "Could be you next by the way." She said knowing that the plant was only turned to ashes for two reasons, it was a small plant and secondly, she didn't really know how to use her quirk that well so she absorbed a powerful bit.

Bakugou snaps out of it, "Yeah whatever, I'm not scared of you. We're just gonna leave cause we don't hang around useless nerds." Bakugou leaves while his "posse" follows behind him.

The girl walks up to the green-headed boy on the ground and reaches out a hand. He immediately takes it.

"Thanks for that..." He spoke shyly not knowing the girl who was seen as a stranger.

"No problem! Whats your name by the way?" She smiled.

"Izuku Midoriya."

"Cool name! I'm Y/N L/N"

"Nice to meet you L/N"

"Please just call me Y/N!"

From then on the two hung out more and more each day and they grew closer and closer. To the point where one day when they were playing house in Y/N's backyard a conversation came up.

Currently the two had stuffed animals and dolls as kids and Y/N smiled "I can't wait to have a life this growing up! It's so fun being married to you too!"

"Yeah it is fun. I want to have a life like this when I grow up to! Being a hero and having kids that look up to me would be a great life" Izuku smiled at her agreement.

"I have an idea, when we grow up, let's get married!" She exclaimed.

"Okay!" He says giving her a hug.

Once the hug breaks she holds out her pinky.

"Pinky promise?"

Their fingers lock.

"Pinky promise."

The two were super estatic to grow up and marry each other. However they ran into a road bump.

"Izuku..I'm sorry but I have to leave the country. I got an offer to go to a better school than U.A."

Those words rang into Izuku's ears everyday even to the present day. Everyday he missed her , everyday he wanted to see her face to face instead of just texting her or calling her. He missed her dearly. Y/N was like Izuku's oxygen. He felt it hard to breathe without her. However her going away didn't set him back from his journey to becoming number one hero. In fact, it pushed him harder.

This takes us to present day, the day Y/N gets to come home. Although it is not permanent, Izuku is very happy she is coming back home even if it's just for the festival. Sure all his friends were nice at U.A. Especially Ochako. She considered Izuku her best friend, but he didn't consider his. Y/N would always be his best friend no matter what.

They haven't been separated that long either it's been like what? A year? Maybe a little less? Either way he was just happy he was going to her again. And again was today.

Waiting at the bus stop for her to get off, Ochako stood next to him, more like against him, she gave him like zero personal space. They were gonna walk with Y/N to U.A since she must not be familiar with Japan anymore.

"Soo who are we waiting for?" Ochako started conversation.

"My childhood best friend." Izuku says.

Ochako questions, "Oh really? Did they not pass the exam go get into U.A?"

"Actually that's not it at all. She got an offer to take an exam at a much more prestigious school and she passed. She is one of the top students in her class." Izuku explains.

She? His best friend was a she? This made Ochakos stomach turn into knots. She has had a crush on Izuku for a while but he knew his so called childhood best friend longer. What if he liked his childhood best friend instead of Ochako? Is that why he ignores all her small hints? Or maybe the boy is just oblivious as hell.

Snapping her out of her thoughts, the bus pulled up and there came a beautiful S/C toned girl who stepped off smiling as wide as possible.

Izuku didn't even almost notice her! She had changed so much. Her hair had pink highlights, the same shade as her energy bolts along with puberty hitting her like a bus, and not just her body, but her face matured. The only thing that made Izuku sure it was her was that wide smile and her glimmering E/C eyes.

"Izuku!" She jumped and embraced him. Before he could even embrace her back they started flying in the air in circles. After 5 seconds of spinning Y/N made sure both their feet touched the ground.

Ochako just stood there awkwardly watching this entire interaction. However her awkward stance is what was hiding that boiling feeling inside her.

"You can fly now?!" Izuku exclaimed at Y/N.

"Yeah! Training really does help you explore what else you can do with your powers." She smiled. "I can't wait to see your awesome quirk today at the festival."

She knew Izuku got a quirk , however she didn't know the backstory on how or why he got it so late. She didn't even bother to ask because the boy was happy and she wouldn't dare ask unless he offered to tell her.

"I'm gonna try my best to win." He says before turning to the awkward Ochako.

"Oh Uraraka, this is my best friend I was telling you about! This is Y/N and Y/N, this is Uraraka." He introduced the two.

Y/N stuck out her hand in front of Uraraka to shake it, "Nice to meet you, by the way you're like soo pretty."

Ochako shook Y/N's hand, "Nice to meet you too, and thanks." She said, but you could hear the slight bitterness in Ochako's voice.

The three walked to U.A together, mainly Izuku and Y/N talking and laughing while Ochako trailed behind them, like a third wheel. This wasn't fair. When Y/N wasn't here Izuku would be talking and laughing with her not Y/N. She would just have to get Izuku's attention some way.

—

Before the festival started Izuku and Y/N shared on more conversation.

"Woww , it must be fun to be able to compete! In Germany we can't compete in festivals till we're second years." Y/N explained.

"I wish so too, I would love to try to compete against you so I can show you how I can beat you with my quirk." He said pumping a fist up.

"And may she might, young students!" All Might appeared out of no where behind the two. The voice startled Y/N but when she turned around she saw All Might.

"Oh my stars! It's All Might!! Wait what do you mean?" She titled her head.

"I have heard about you , L/N. You and your fellow students were in a magazine a while ago." He explained, while Y/N's eyes lit up. "I can speak and have it arranged for you to join us in our festival. I want to see you at work."

"Oh my stars! Really?! Like really , really?!" Y/N was so happy right now she looked like she was gonna pee herself.

"I can try. Now wait for me outside in the hall while I speak to this young student." All Might says as Y/N obeys and closes the door on the way out.

All Might shrinks back down to regular old Toshi. He coughs before speaking.

"Does she know?"

"No, I didn't tell her."

"Good , I was afraid you would tell her especially since she doesn't go here." Toshi says, weakness in his voice. "I'm going to go take her to talk to the other pros in charge to see if we can get her to join the festival. I know you will do good Midoriya." He places a hand on Izuku's shoulder before going back to being All Might.

Before leaving he turns around and says, "Good luck."

—

Y/N hummed as she changed in the locker room. Ochako so happened to be there getting prepared. When Ochako spots her she immediately tries to avoid Y/N however Y/N's attention was somewhere else. She was just too excited for this opportunity.

When Ochako realized Y/N wasn't paying attention she stared at Y/N. Damn, she wouldn't blame Izuku if he did like Y/N. Y/N was beautiful and she looked so much better in the gym uniform then Ochako.

Y/N wore a sports bra only under the uniform because she wasn't prepared for this. Ochako saw this and thought she should do the same so Ochako took off her tank top and left her sports bra on with just the gym uniform on top.

Y/N turns, "Oh Uraraka! Guess what they're letting me compete in the festival." She smiled.

"Oh. I am happy for you. I hope you do well."

"You too! May the best one win." Y/N smiles friendly before leaving.

"Yeah may the best one win.." Ochako mutters knowing that she didn't want to just win the festival she also wanted to win Izuku's love and attention.

—

The festival contained of many challenges.

The first one was the obstacle course. Y/N ended up passing at number 15. That was only because she didn't use flight for it. She used her pure skills.

Next was the calvary battle. Y/N ended up being placed on team Todoroki. She was having so much fun she barely noticed it was a challenge.

Finally , it was one on ones. Y/N won her first round against Mina and she was super pleased by it. She didn't think she was that good with her quirk. But she had an advantage against Mina's acid. Acid is a chemical, and chemicals have energy.

It was time for Uraraka and Bakugou to fight and Uraraka was nevous before she went on so she went to Izuku.

But before she did she unzipped her uniform to show off her sports bra and then confronted him unfortunately Y/N was there.

"Oh Midoriya!" She exclaimed interrupting what Y/N and Izuku were talking about. "I have to fight Bakugou and I'm so gonna lose" She said almost in an almost too dramatic way.

"Let me help you come up with a pla–" Izuku tried to speak.

"I don't need your help with winning, I want to do this on my own. I know I can do it." Ochako say, "I'm just so nervous, can I have a hug before I go on?" She asks with pleading eyes.

Izuku and Ochako embrace for a solid 10 seconds before Y/N joins in. Then the unwanted group hug only lasts about 5 seconds.

"You're gonna do great Ochako! Bakugou just has a bigggggggg ego since forever. You're gonna win." Y/N smiled.

"Yeah, you are Ochako!" Izuku agrees.

"Thanks guys..." The "guy" thats came out her mouth was super bitter and she stared daggers at Y/N while she said it. However Y/N thought it was on accident so she smiled.

That almost frustrated Ochako past her limits. But made her think why is Y/N being so nice? Why can't Y/N back off OCHAKOS Izuku? Whatever it didn't matter.

Ochako hugged Izuku one more time before going to her battle. As she walked off she thought that if she did well it would impress Izuku and he will fall in love. Maybe she's being delusional but she won't give up on him.

Y/N and Izuku watched the painful battle of Ochako vs Bakugou. They were both putting on a strong fight but Bakugou was obviously winning.

"She needs to forfeit or she's gonna get seriously injured, Izuku."

"She's gonn—" He's cut off when Ochako hits the ground.

Y/N gasps and Izuku's eyes widen.

Midnight declares Ochako is unconscious, however leading Y/N and Izuku rushing down to recovery girl.

A few moments later Ochako's eyes fluttered open. She saw Y/N and Izuku next to her.

"Shes awake!" Y/N exclaimed. "Are you okay?"

Ochako stared blankly. Why was Y/N here? But she knew Izuku was here so she put on a little act, "Oh my..I'm in so much pain right now." She wasn't seriously lying, Recovery Girl can't fully help Ochako recover.

"You put on a good fight Uraraka! It's nice to see you awake however, I have to prepare to fight Todoroki in a little. I'll catch you guys later!" Izuku hugged Ochako and she became slightly flustered before he left the room.

Sitting down in a chair next to Uraraka, Y/N speaks, "That fight was so impressive! I could see your strategy. I wish you won it would have been so badass for you to beat Bakugou."

While Y/N kept complimenting Ochako and talking about the fight. Ochako realized something. Ever since Y/N came back she's just been jealous of her. When in reality she shouldn't have. Y/N has no bad intentions towards her, she just wants to be her friend. Imagine if Izuku knew what she thought of Y/N? He would hate her guts.

Realization.

"And the way you used your jacket for a—" Y/N was cut off by Ochako,

"Do you like Midoriya?" Ochako asks.

"Yes, he's my best—"

"I mean do you like him?" She exaggerates the like this time.

Y/N stops and thinks before answering.

"... It doesn't matter, I don't think he feels the same." The answer came out her mouth almost too quietly, but Ochako heard it.

"L/N," Ochako sat up, wincing from the little pain she had left and grabbing Y/N's hand. "The way he looks at you, the way he interacts with you, every time he interacts with you it's different from others. He doesn't just like you, I'm sure he loves you. You're the love of his life, you should tell him."

Y/N is speechless, "But don't you like him?"

"How'd you know?!?" Ochako becomes flustered.

"It's obvious."

"Then it's also obvious he doesn't like me back."

Y/N got up and helped Ochako get up. "I know you like him, but I don't want to get with him if you lik—"

"Please, who cares if I like him, I want him to be happy and he's obviously happy with you. So let's go watch him kick ass." Ochako smiled hooking her arms with Y/N's as they went to go watch Midoriya vs Todoroki.

—

"Aww you did so well , though." Ochako spoke, where Ochako, Y/N, and Izuku were all back with Recovery Girl.

"I agree." Y/N smiled.

"Thanks guys, I'm disappointed though."

"Next year, you're going to beat him for sure." Ochako says.

"Same goes for you beating Bakugou."

"Speaking of Bakugou," Y/N chimes in, "I'll avenge you right now. Cause guess who has to fight him."

The two stared at Y/N.

"He's super strong though." Midoriya spoke up.

"He may be strong but I'm sure I'm stronger." Y/N smiled.

"You got this girlie! If anyone can beat him it's you." Ochako smiled optimistically, and this time there was no bitterness.

—

Y/N stood in the ring across from Bakugou.

"We meet again Katsuki." Y/N smiles.

"Don't call me that."

"Hmm, I'll call you whatever I want after I beat you." Y/N smiles.

"The hell? You'll never beat me."

"Wanna bet?"

"Damn right, I do."

Y/N giggles, "I'll go easyy.."

Bakugou had enough of the talk he sent the first explosion towards her. Using acrobatic skills, she flipped out the way dodging the attack.

"Damn, thats all you got?"

"Fuck no."

Y/N flew up throwing bolts at Bakugou.

The two were fighting for a good 15 minutes. The area was smoky from not only Bakugou's explosions but Y/N's bolts and laser eyes.

Unfortunately, Y/N was beat by Katsuki by default because she absorbed too much energy and went manic.

��

When everyone recovered and everyone recovered it was time for Y/N to go home. Izuku was sad and so was Y/N. They didn't know the next time they would see each other and this made them both upset.

It was rainy, and they both stood under an umbrella waiting for the bus to take Y/N to the airport.

"You did awesome at the festival." She broke the silence.

"So did you." He spoke , but there was sadness in his voice.

"You know, I'm really proud of you and your quirk is amazing. I can't wait to see how hard you train and how good you are next time I see you." She smiled almost sadly, "And then I'll fight your that time."

He chuckles, "I hope you don't think you're gonna win."

"Trust me, I will."

The bus pulled up and the two looked even more sad.

"I guess this is it for who knows how long." Izuku turns and faces her.

"Don't be sad, Izuku. Our separation is only temporary. Remember, I'll come back and we will get married?" She cuffs his cheek.

He lit up a little, not thinking she remembered the promise. He melted into the touch of her hand while nodding.

They shared one last embrace,

"Goodbye, Y/N."

"Until we meet again, Izu."

The embrace broke but Y/N didn't walk off yet. What did was totally unexpected. She pecked his lips and ran on to the bus, "Call me later!"

Those were the last words he heard her say before he stood there flustered.

They wouldn't just marry each other in the future because they were best friends.

Izuku Midoriya found his true love, his soulmate, and he can't wait to see her again.

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