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heeology · 9 days

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i want nobody but you | p.sh

synopsis → you and sunghoon have known each other your whole lives and although you've both dealt with jokes from classmates since elementary school on how you two would end up together, that never ended up happening; you two would brush it off and then move on. you never really thought about pursuing something with him romantically, especially since you like things with a more casual approach. but once sunghoon's girlfriend becomes a part of the picture, you can't help but feel these feelings consume you. being the way you are, however, you managed to push them down and you at least thought you got over them until you realize maybe they never left at all. or even worse: they were always there.

feat. → yujin (ive) & sungchan (riize)

genre → college au, friends to somewhat enemies to lovers, romance, smut, angst (eh, ig), slowburn (ig? srry lmao)

pairing → nonidol!sunghoon x fem!reader

warnings → MDNI, smoking !! (reader and sunghoon both smoke), drinking, cursing, mention(s?) of death, mention of hookups, reader is called and referred to (sometimes self referred to) as a: slut/whore; slutshaming, !! potential sh reference (pinching/hitting self; dk if that counts, but it's not mentioned after) !!, mentions of sex (obvi)

w.c. → 22.7k

a/n → long time no see lol. lmk if u would be interested in seeing some pics i took at the enha concert i went to :)) (i won't do vids because i was screaming like a baboon lmao) p.s. bear w me bc ik this is a long one, but i feel like i owe you all since i've been gone for practically a century, but pls give it a chance, i'm on my knees begging bc this took 3 days

disclaimer !! → i don’t ship any idols i portray as dating in this story irl nor do i have the intent to portray anyone in this story in a negative light, this is just for creative purposes, babes <3; this is all just fiction, take it lightly pls and thx

!!DO NOT COPY OR REPOST!!

Today has been a long day. You groan as you take a seat on a bench somewhere near the lecture hall you just left and you close your eyes as you lean back against it. You had originally thought your senior year of high school was torturous, but being a senior in college was far worse. Your eyebrows furrow a bit when you feel the weight of the bench shift a bit, meaning someone has taken a seat beside you. Your eyes open a bit and you turn your head to see Sunghoon next to you. A sigh escapes your lips and you turn your head away, closing your eyes again.

Sunghoon sits there for a moment, looking at you. Lately, you two haven’t hung out as much and although he admittedly forgot to text you for the past week and half, you were still his best friend. He could argue, though, that “the phone works both ways”, so you’re not exactly innocent either. He’s seen you around campus, hanging out with some members of the basketball team, mainly the captain: Sungchan. You didn’t seem bothered by the lack of contact between the two of you, either, so it didn’t bother him or make him feel guilty that you haven’t hung out in just a few days. No…not at all.

“Nice to see you, too.” he mumbles. You stay quiet, honestly close to falling asleep on the bench, especially with the warm breeze that is gently blowing. He narrows his eyes a bit and leans back against the bench. He does the same as you, closing his eyes as he relaxes, but he frowns to himself. “You and Sungchan seem to be close.” he says, not really even understanding why he brought it up in the first place.

This piques your interest. “What about him.” you say rather than ask, still keeping your eyes closed.

Sunghoon shrugs, still not really sure why he cares who you hang out with or how often or who they are or…anything like that. Maybe it upsets him to think about the fact that you might replace him with someone cooler as your best friend; maybe he was too lame for you. How juvenile, he thought to himself. But that’s what it felt like, to him, at least. “Nothing. I’ve just seen you guys hanging out a lot, that’s all.” Sunghoon replies.

“How would you know that; we haven’t really hung out or talked lately.” you reply, not meaning to sound snarky, but it most likely came across that way.

Sunghoon scoffs softly. “I have eyes; I can still see who you talk to.”

You open your eyes a bit and turn your head to look at him. “Stalker.” you tease.

Sunghoon opens his eyes, almost as if he can feel you looking at him and he rolls them, not amused. “Am not…I’m just trying to start a conversation or whatever.”

“About the people I talk to?”

Sunghoon shrugs. “About anything…” It stays quiet for a moment. “It’s just been a while since we’ve talked.”

“And whose fault is that?” You ask, rhetorically.

Sunghoon frowns. “Well, I’ve just been busy-”

You scoff, “Yeah. I know.” You reply dryly.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Just that that’s what you always say whenever we don’t talk to each other for a while. Like, I get it, you’re dating Yujin, big whoop.”

You’ve considered the possibility that he has just been busy with schoolwork, but no matter how many times you would give him the benefit of the doubt, it always ended up being because he was hanging out with Yujin. You weren’t really mad, per say, just annoyed. Severely annoyed. But what could you do? Ever since they started dating freshman year, you’ve felt like you were on the backburner. Which, again, you can’t really be upset about that. Afterall, she’s his girlfriend, whether you liked it or not. There is nothing wrong with her, you two got along fine, even if you don’t really talk or are even friends. You don’t hate her, not for any valid reasons, anyway. Still, despite how many people you know, Sunghoon is your only real friend and always has been. But it’s times like these when it feels like he means more to you than you mean to him.

“She’s my girlfriend.” He says, matter-of-factly.

You roll your eyes at his statement. “I know that,” you retort with annoyance, “you only ever bring it up every chance you get.”

“You seriously can’t be annoyed that I spend time with my own girlfriend.” He responds with the same tone.

Sometimes, Sunghoon gets caught up in things. Like being with Yujin, for example. He’ll be with her and then it just slips his mind to respond to a text of yours or to ask if you want to do something, he can’t help it. He knows that he’s your best friend and he’s certain that you’re his, too. Sure, Yujin means a lot to him, but you mean more, whether he would admit that or not. He just wants to make everything balanced, for everything to work out. But a part of him feels like something has been off since he started dating Yujin. Sure, he’s had other girlfriends, but never one for longer than a few months. This relationship is important to him. What if Yujin is the one? He can’t screw it up and he’s afraid to, so he makes sure to spend as much time with her as he can. He thought you would understand, but apparently not.

You’ve met Sunghoon’s other girlfriends, none of which bothered you as much as Yujin. Maybe because this one seems more serious. Maybe because she seems more important to him. The thought makes your stomach curdle. This whole situation makes your stomach curdle. You shouldn’t care so much, but you do. You hate that. “Whatever.” you reply, honestly not having thought of anything better to respond with. What were you supposed to say to that? Of course you understood, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck.

“Besides, like I said, you and Sungchan have been hanging out a lot recently. Don’t act like you’ve never blown me off to hang out with him.” Sunghoon says.

“Barely.”

“Not barely. A lot. ‘Oh, Sungchan invited me to his basketball game to watch’, ‘Oh, Sungchan invited me to a party,’ ‘Oh, Sungchan wants to hook up’, ‘Oh, Sungchan this and Sungchan that’.” Sunghoon mocks, annoyed.

You frown. “Why do you care? You’ve got a girlfriend, so just hang out with her instead.”

Sunghoon frowns as well. “That’s not the point. The point is that you ditch me just the same to hang out with a guy who you’re not even dating. You don’t talk to me sometimes when you’re with him or another guy, so why are you so upset that I do the same with Yujin, who I’m actually dating?”

“Stop rubbing in the fact that you’re dating someone. Good for you, who gives a shit? So what if I do the same? It’s only because you do it first!” you argue back. You grab your backpack and stand up as you put it on. You start walking away from him and he watches you as you leave.

“Great talk!” he calls out to you in a sarcastic manner.

He didn’t mean to make you upset or try to “rub his relationship” in your face, he would never try to intentionally make you upset. So, why did he care? He doesn’t, it’s as simple as that. Maybe you doing the same thing to him with Sungchan bothered him a little. Maybe you wanting to spend your time instead with someone else you’re not even dating bothered him a little. But it’s not like he actually cared or anything. He knows he can’t tell you what to do or who to see, so why does he care? He knows he blew you off, so why didn’t he just apologize? Why did he bring up Sungchan in the first place? Sunghoon sits on the bench for a moment, rethinking things. Why was he acting like you were ignoring him when it was kind of the other way around? He sighs and closes his eyes again. He’ll figure it out later.

You let out a long yawn as the dim glow from your computer screen shines on your face. It’s three in the morning, and sure, you have a class tomorrow, but you can’t sleep and figure you can just skip your lecture anyway. Even if your brightness was all the way down, it still hurt your eyes every so often, so you would close them to make them feel better while you listened to the show you were watching. You hear your phone ding and your eyes open, your hand reaching for your phone to see the text.

“are you awake?” Sunghoon texts.

He knows you are. You almost always are, which is why he knew you would see the message. Although, he did anticipate the idea of you ignoring him. You were good at things like that, things that required a stubborn attitude. He didn’t mind your stubbornness, though. He didn’t mind anything when it came to you. He waited a bit, sitting in the darkness with just the light of his phone screen, his thumb gently tapping it so it doesn’t automatically turn off as he waits for you to text back.

“yeah.” you text back.

It took you a few minutes and in all honesty, you almost didn’t respond. But you missed him, which even if he asks directly, you would deny. You wonder if he missed you too, but you shake that thought away.

“still pissy?”

This makes you laugh a little. Yes, you were, but you still found it a little funny.

“shut up.” you text back.

“wanna hang out?”

You sigh. Now he wants to? It takes you a while to reply with anything as you just stare at his message.

“can u bring the usual?” you reply.

He smiles at your text. “duh” he texts back.

You smile a bit, looking forward to actually hanging out with him. The whole argument was dumb anyway and you just wanted your best friend back. And after a while of waiting, you hear a knock on your dorm room door. You get up from your bed and unlock it, opening it as you step outside. He smiles softly when he sees you and you smile a bit back. You both quietly leave your dorm building before going outside and sitting on the curb. He sets the plastic bag he was carrying between you two and opens a bottle of beer before handing it to you. You take it and he opens his own, both of you taking a sip as a cool breeze blows softly.

“Sorry about earlier,” he says quietly, “and for not talking to you for a week. I just got caught up with Yujin, you know?”

You take another drink, not really interested in discussing this anymore. “It’s fine.”

“I also wasn’t trying to rub her and I into your face and make you feel bad or anything, it’s just…” he trails off. It’s silent for a moment as you both drink. “This week has been shitty.” he mumbles.

“Amen to that.” you reply. He chuckles softly and you both clink your bottles before smiling and taking another drink.

“How’s your love life going, anyway?” he asks, genuinely curious.

Sure, there were other things he wanted to talk about, could talk about, but this is what slipped out of his mouth first. He was actually curious, he truly wants to know. He just wants to see you happy.

You shrug, “The same; just hook ups.”

He looks at you for a moment. That’s it? You’ve been hooking up with people since the beginning of high school. Sure, you’ve dated some guys before, but they were all assholes; Sunghoon never liked them. He couldn’t stand them, to put it plainly. You deserve better, and he knows that. But he also knows you’re not into relationships. You like things to be simple and direct. But when it comes to how you feel, he knew you weren’t very expressive with that. Only when it comes to getting what you want. He kind of admires that about you.

“So…no one in particular? You just kind of…go after who you think is the hottest?”

You grin, “Something like that.” you take a sip, “So…how are things going with Yujin?”

You honestly hate that you asked. Why would you? Why would you want to hear about that? Surely, things must be going wonderfully if he’s so wrapped up in all that is her. But you’re still friends. It’s normal to ask these kinds of questions, right? Maybe he won’t really say much anyway and you’ll be a good friend for even asking. That’s what you’re hoping for, at least.

"Well... things have been kind of weird. She's been acting kinda distant recently; I don't know how else to explain it. She just seems really bored all the time. Like, the sex is good but it just seems like she's not into me anymore or something." he replies.

You give him a weird look as he brings up the topic of sex with Yujin. Gross. Just...Gross.

“Describing sex with your ‘girlfriend’ as good is never a good thing.” you say as you laugh a bit, taking a sip.

Sunghoon scoffs a bit. Why did it seem like you were happy to hear that? It irritated him a bit, but he brushed it off. “Well, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s more like…it’s become something that’s routine.”

“Yeah, that’s probably not a good sign.”

Sunghoon sighs. "I know... it's just so weird though. I mean, we've been together for so long, and she's never been the type to get bored like this. It just sucks. I'm worried if something happened between us that's making her not want to be with me anymore."

You look at him for a moment as he drinks. You hate seeing him upset and you know that Yujin means a lot to him, especially since this is his first big relationship. You frown a bit as you drink. “Have you asked her?” you take another sip, “Aren’t people in relationships supposed to communicate and shit?”

"Yeah, I asked her and she said everything was fine, but like... I don't know. I just have a feeling that she's not telling me something, and I've tried asking her multiple times, but every time, she always says everything's fine." he takes another drink. “That’s pretty much what I’ve been spending last week doing, just…trying to fix what may not even be broken.” he mumbles.

You feel bad now for getting upset at him for blowing you off. It makes sense and you just got defensive again, not really knowing what he was doing. You sit there for a moment, not really sure what to say. Sunghoon didn’t mind the silence, though. He was trying to focus on Yujin and figure out why things feel this way when maybe, they aren’t even that way at all. Maybe it’s him. He isn’t sure, but he is sure that he already feels a million times better being with you, even if it is just sitting next to each other on a curb in silence.

“Do you cum?” you ask.

Sunghoon chokes on his beer a little, hitting his chest a bit as he coughs. He looks at you, not expecting your question at all, and as for you, well, you weren’t really expecting to ask it. It kind of just…came out. Your initial thought process was to ask more about his feelings on things in the relationship, seeming more like a routine, but it kind of led to you wondering if he even cums. In your defense, you thought that if he doesn’t, then maybe the relationship is going downhill. You look at him, as if what you asked was totally normal, taking another sip of your beer. He looks back at you, seeming to have processed what you asked.

“...yeah, pretty much every time.”

“Does she?”

Again, not something you really want to know, but you do want to help him.

“...sometimes, but most of the time she doesn’t.”

You suck air through your teeth, “Uh-oh.”

“It’s not a big deal, you know, so what if sometimes we don’t? It’s not about that, it’s just about…connecting or whatever.” he mumbles as he takes a sip.

“So, then what? Do you guys just like…do it yourself?”

“Yeah, so?”

You laugh. You can’t help it, it’s just too funny. Not his obvious pain with his relationship kind of going south, but the fact that he finds this to be normal. You at least found that funny.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, pissed off, but also slightly embarrassed.

“Dude, I'm not a relationship expert, but like...shouldn't people who have sex, I don't know, finish every time? I mean, I have never really had that happen often with any of the guys I hook up with, but hey, what do I know.”

"Well... I guess, but it's not a big deal to me. As long as she enjoys it, that's what's important. And, it's not like it happens all the time. Sometimes she does finish, but it's just... well, not as often as I would hope..." he takes another sip.

You roll your eyes to yourself. Kind of out of instinct. If you’re going to be frank, you don’t give a damn about her.

You shrug, “I don’t know,” you take another sip, “you say you don’t cum sometimes, how come?”

“I don’t know…it just happens?”

You shake your head, “Nah, there’s a reason.”

“But the reason is dumb and I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” he takes another sip.

“Do you think she’s hot?”

What a stupid question. You wish you didn’t ask it. Why would you want to hear him talk about yet again how hot he thinks she is. It makes your blood boil and you would rather bash yourself over the head with your beer bottle than hear him talk about how perfect she is. But, there is a small, small part of you hoping for a certain answer. Only a small part.

“Of course I do.” he replies, simply.

“So, then, what’s the problem?”

“Sometimes I have a hard time finishing, happy? Jesus…” he mumbles as he drinks some more.

You roll your eyes. You’ve known each other your whole lives, you know when he’s lying.

“Mmm,” you take another sip, “no, you see, sometimes when I hook up with guys, I suddenly don't feel attracted to them, so then sometimes I don't finish. So do you just like sometimes not like her or something?”

He shakes his head, "No, I'm always attracted to her. But... sometimes I have a hard time finishing, and I don't know why that is."

“What do you think about?” you ask, kind of quietly.

A part of you didn’t want to ask that, besides, this conversation was becoming weird. But that small, small part of you was so desperately hoping for a certain answer. Fucked up? Yeah, most definitely, but that didn’t seem to stop you.

“About what?” he asks, actually clueless.

“When you’re having sex, what do you think about?” you ask again, taking a sip of your beer.

“...about her, that’s what you’re supposed to do, so,” he trails off, “Sometimes I…think about other things...” he answers, blushing a bit.

“Like what?”

“Just…random stuff. Why do you want to know anyway?” he asks, getting slightly defensive.

“Maybe that's what's distracting you. I don't know, spice things up with her or something. Or have an actual conversation with her about how you feel or whatever.” you mutter as you finish your beer.

He takes another sip of his beer. “Why are you acting like some sort of relationship counselor? You’ve never even really been in a relationship yourself.”

Maybe he wanted to piss you off with what he said, but only so you could back off. “Spice things up”? Yujin and him are fine, he’s deciding that right here, right now. He doesn’t want your help with this or to even discuss it anymore with you. It feels weird. Besides, he doesn’t want you to think that he’s…not good at sex. Not for any other reasons, just that…he doesn’t want you to think that about him.

You set your bottle down and look at him. “Because you’re my friend? I don’t know. Why do you care?” You hold your hand out, wanting him to hand the cigarettes he brought while your other hand digs into your sweatpants pocket for your lighter.

He reaches into the bag and hands them to you, knowing full well you could have grabbed them yourself, yet he still obliged. “So, in all of your hooking up, have you ever had feelings for anyone you hooked up with? And not those bullshit feelings for your douchebag exes, like actual feelings. Or have they all just been hookups?” he asks, hoping to change the subject.

You open the pack, “Hookups.”

“Every single one?”

“Mhm.” you answer, taking one out and putting it into your mouth, lighting it as you take a drag.

“So you’ve never fallen in love with anyone you’ve hooked up with?”

You laugh, “Fallen in love? How stupid.” you say as you take another drag.

“Okay, love might be a strong word, but like, have you never developed feelings for any of the people you’ve hooked up with?” he asks, finishing his beer.

“Nah.”

"Right, right. So, you're just all about hookups then, and that's cool, no shame or anything; I get it. But you've never felt even just a little bit of loneliness from it?" he asks as he sets his bottle down. You ignore his question, taking another drag. He knows by your reaction that he’s said something that bothers you. Whenever anything is mentioned that may reveal how you truly feel, you just block it off and move on. He sighs, not too sure why he bothered asking since you always ignore these types of topics. Sometimes, he wished you wouldn’t. He wished you would be more open with him. It feels like he can talk to you about anything and everything, even if sometimes he doesn’t want to, but he does anyway because you…well, you’re you. "I mean, it's gotta get kinda boring... always hooking up, never really connecting with anyone. Unless you don't care about that kind of thing."

“Love is stupid.” you reply flatly.

What a groundbreaking opinion. Truly, nobody has ever felt or thought the same thing. Great stuff. Sunghoon sighs at your answer, not really getting why you won’t just tell him. He wants you to. He can’t really explain why. It doesn’t have to do with wanting to get some satisfaction out of helping you or changing you, but rather, sometimes he feels like he knows nothing about you. You’re important to him, more than you could possibly understand, but still, sometimes, you seem so distant; like a stranger. He just wants to know that you trust him.

“So, just because love hasn’t exactly worked out in your life, you think love is stupid? I don’t really think that’s fair…just because your ex boyfriends were assholes doesn’t mean that true love doesn’t exist.”

For some reason, him talking about true love pisses you off. It pisses you off greatly. You can feel your skin crawl and anger boiling up inside you, so you take a drag from your cigarette, blowing out the smoke, wishing it was something else you were getting rid of.

“It’s not about them.” you take another drag, “Do you love Yujin?”

You think you know the answer already. No, you know the answer indefinitely. There is only one answer. Why would he have spent the past three–almost four years–dating her if he didn’t? You think about all the times he talked about her when they first started dating. You try not to, but your mind recalls all the details, how he said them, what he said, how he looked while he was talking. It made you sick.

His heart sinks a little when you ask the question. He stares at you for a moment, not responding to your question right away. He takes a long deep breath before he answers, “Yes.” You sit silent. You heard his answer, but you don’t want to acknowledge it. You take another drag from your cigarette, a longer one this time, blowing out the smoke slowly as you tap some of the tobacco from the butt of it off. “Do you…not believe me?” he asks, watching you. He can tell something is on your mind, you’re just having trouble saying it. He’s not asking to be snarky or anything, he asks in more of a gentle tone, just wanting you to open up or at least just say something remotely close to how you feel.

“No, I do.” you answer quietly. For some reason, it hurts to say that. It’s true, though; you do believe him…unfortunately.

Silence consumes the both of you, just sitting on the curb as time passes. Crickets chip softly in the distance and the subtle burn of the tobacco from your cigarette fills it a bit, but not enough. He stares at you, both annoyed and concerned.

“Then what is it? Are you trying to say there’s something wrong with my relationship?” he asks, suddenly defensive. Even he, himself, doesn’t know why he’s suddenly so defensive about it, especially since he brought up the issue earlier, but he doesn’t like thinking that you think there is something wrong.

“Jesus, it’s not like that.” you respond, knowing full and well it is like that.

“Then spit it out; what are you trying to say?”

“Shut up.”

You take another drag and he rolls his eyes, annoyed. “You know, you’re so annoying sometimes.”

“So are you.”

“Yeah, I know, but you’re worse.”

You take another drag, genuinely wanting him to shut up, or for things to be normal. Or better yet, for things not to be complicated. “Go cry about it to your girlfriend.”

“Screw you.”

“Ditto.”

“Whatever.” he says, pissed off.

“Yeah, whatever.” you mumble as you take another drag.

He continues to look at you, pissed off at how you don’t seem to care about anything. He used to like that a lot about you, how you never cared about what people thought and are able to brush anything off. Maybe “used to” is a bit strong, he still likes that about you, but for right now, it’s incredibly infuriating.

“You know, I’ve noticed that you always avoid giving direct answers to questions. Maybe that’s why you’re so scared of commitment; Not willing to really speak your mind out of fear of hurting someone’s feelings or your own.” he says, hoping this would piss you off enough to just say how you feel.

You roll your eyes, “Shut up.” you say as you continue smoking your cigarette.

“No, I won't shut up. In fact, I'm gonna keep talking because this is one of the rare occasions where we’re actually having a serious conversation and not just talking about petty stuff.”

You roll your eyes again. “I don’t want to.” you reply, simply.

“Too bad. because I am really curious about it. So, I’m just gonna keep asking questions. Like, have you ever experienced real heartbreak before? Because you seem like the type that just throws people away and moves on with no remorse.” You become quiet. Sure, you weren’t answering before, well, barely, anyway. But this time, you feel like you’re shrinking. That type of quiet. The type of quiet you become when you feel like you got caught and you don’t want to admit to what you did. You just smoke your cigarette. “And you don’t just avoid answering questions about your romantic life, either. You do the same thing when it comes to family, friends, and anyone else. You just push people away and never actually let anyone get to know the real you.”

“You know the real me.” you say, looking at him. In all honesty, you were insulted. He was seriously telling you that he “doesn’t know the real you” after you guys have been friends since you were two years old? What does that say about your friendship?

“No, I really don’t. All I know about you is the surface layer stuff that you’re willing to share, but I don't actually know you. No one does. Because you never let anyone get close enough.” he says as he looks you directly in the eyes, meaning every word he says. Well, maybe not every word, but it is how he feels. He doesn’t want you to get frustrated, but if that’s what it takes for you to finally say how you feel, then so be it. You do feel yourself getting frustrated and you look away, taking another drag. “And don’t deny it, ‘cause you know it’s true. You just push people away and never let yourself be vulnerable, ‘cause if you did, then they could use that vulnerability against you. And god forbid anybody ever find out about your deepest insecurities-”

“Shut the fuck up.” you say, feeling anger seethe out of you. He sits there, somewhat stunned by your response. Not exactly that you became angry, but more so that he actually got a reaction out of you. He watches you as you put your cigarette out and stand up. “I’m going back to my room.” you mutter.

He stands up. “Seriously?” he says as he sees you start to walk away. He scoffs. “You’re just going to leave? Like that? Whatever.” he mumbles as he grabs the pack of cigarettes you put back into the bag (the pack he specifically bought for you and always buys whenever you guys hang out like this). He opens it and grabs one, lighting it as he sees you turn around. You walk back over to him and snatch the pack of cigarettes from his hand. “The hell?” he asks, annoyed, as he tries to grab it back.

You hold it out of his reach. “You don’t even like red Marlboros.” you say, almost tempted to take the one out of his mouth, too just to spite him.

“Give it back.” he says sternly as he takes a small drag from the one in his mouth, holding it between his fingers as he glares at you.

“No.”

“It’s my pack of cigarettes.”

“That you bought for me.”

“And I want it back.”

“Well, tough shit, I’m not giving it back.”

“Give it.” he says as he holds out his hand. You ignore him and turn around, starting to walk away. He takes another drag, grimacing because you’re right, he doesn’t like this brand, but he’s only doing this to spite you. He gets even more pissed off just seeing you walk away. “Why are you always such a pain in the ass?”

“Could ask you the same thing.” you yell back.

He quickly puts out the cigarette and puts the bottles into the bag before catching up to you. “I'm not the one who’s always being super mean and acting all mysterious about everything. Like, what’s with all the attitude and snarky comments? You’ve been extra shitty lately.”

“Fuck you.”

He scoffs, “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You know, you’re being shitty, you just don’t wanna admit it.”

You stop walking and turn to look at him, throwing the pack at him. “Then go away.”

He grits his teeth and grabs the pack from the ground. He looks at you, “Whatever. I'm leaving. But just know, one of these days, you’re going to actually push someone away for good.”

“Hopefully it’s you.” you say as you cross your arms.

“Yeah, me too. Because I am so fed up with your bullshit.”

“Great. Go away.”

He rolls his eyes and walks past you, his arm bumping into yours purposefully as he heads back to his dorm.

As Sunghoon makes his way to his lecture, he sees Yujin in the distance talking to some of her friends. He thinks about your conversation last night. He had hopes of confiding in you a bit more about how he felt, but of course that’s not the way things panned out. He had no time to focus on that, even if he was feeling even worse now that he possibly lost his best friend for good. Shit…did he really lose you for good? He feels his blood run cold, but he’s trying to forget it and focus on her. She’s his girlfriend, he has to remember that. He walks up to her, smiling a bit. She looks at him.

“Oh…hey.” she says softly.

“Hey…can we talk for a minute?” She nods her head and stands still. Sunghoon glances at her friends and then looks back at her. “...in private?” Yujin glances at her friends before following Sunghoon over into the library, taking a seat at a table near one of the back bookshelves, a little bit of space between the two of them. “Is there a reason you’ve been acting like this lately? Do you not…want to be with me anymore?” Sunghoon asks, just getting straight to the point.

Yujin is quiet for a moment. “Everything is fine.” she says.

He crosses his arms, feeling himself getting frustrated. Why can’t people just be direct like you? Yeah, you’re not really direct with your feelings, but you are when it comes to anything else. “Are you sure? Because you've been really distant. We haven't been talking as often, you barely want to spend time with me... and it feels like you're avoiding being intimate with me, too. I had to almost beg you to spend time with me last week. Is there really nothing? Are you sure everything is fine?” Yujin listens and stays quiet. Sunghoon sighs. "You know, couples are supposed to communicate and shit, right? If something is bothering you, just come out and say it." Sure, he took a page from your book with what you said last night and perhaps some of what you said rang true after all, but he’s not really looking to give you a “you were right” moment at this time.

“You being friends with her bothers me.” Yujin says as she crosses her arms.

Sunghoon freezes for a moment, taken aback by her response. “...are you being serious?” he asks, not totally sure if she’s just messing with him.

“You hang out with her more than me to the point that I had to ask you to stop texting her whenever we would hang out and you always say you’re “just best friends”, but I don’t believe you. Do you have feelings for her?”

“Do YOU think I have feelings for her?” Sunghoon asks, becoming defensive while also avoiding answering her question directly.

“Yes.” she answers, simply.

“What, do you think I’ll dump you for her or something?”

"She's a slut. You know it, I know it, everybody knows it. I don't care if you guys are close, I'm worried she is going to make a move on you and then you break up with me just for her to use you once and then ruin you; She's bad news." Yujin says.

He feels his jaw drop a bit at what she says. Did she seriously just say that? And so boldly? He feels himself become upset about the way she talks about you. He wants to defend you, he always has, but he frowns. What if this leads to Yujin breaking up with him? You did say last night that you two were done with each other, so why does it matter? He doesn’t agree with Yujin, but he wants to save this relationship…

“You really think I'm that naive? That I'd fall for a girl like her? Just because we’re close friends doesn’t mean I automatically get feelings for her and forget about you. You know I'm smart enough to not get mixed up with someone like her.” he says, feeling like his heart is breaking as he says it. He wants Yujin to feel reassured, but after saying this…it doesn’t feel worth it.

“So you agree.” Yujin says.

Sunghoon sits there, feeling like he’s about to throw up. Why is this so hard? Why can’t he just say ‘yes’ and move on? Why can’t he be happy with Yujin? He just nods his head. “I wouldn’t fall for someone like her.” he says extremely quietly, almost as if he never wanted those words to leave his mouth. But they did and it was too late.

Yujin smiles, satisfied by his answer. She leans in and kisses his lips quickly, “I believe you.” she says softly.

Sunghoon hesitates, not glad that she believes him. Not glad that she said those things about you. Not glad that he said those things about you. He’s just not happy. He gives her a small smile and kisses her cheek quickly. “I’m glad.”

You are sitting on a bench, scrolling through your phone as you wait for your next lecture to start soon. Sunghoon sees you as he exits his lecture hall and his gaze lingers on you for a moment. He sighs to himself a bit, feeling like he was being pulled in two different directions. The more he thinks about it, he feels as though Yujin was giving him an ultimatum to choose you or her. If she said it outright, there isn’t a cell in his body that would hesitate to choose you. He thinks back to his conversation with Yujin in the library and he feels sick; he knows he did something wrong.

He walks over to you and takes a seat next to you, just wanting to make up and move on. To his surprise, however, you get up immediately and take your bag before walking away. He sits there, confused, but figures you’re still upset about the argument last night. He gets up and he follows you before catching up and gently grabbing your arm, but you end up taking it away and start walking again. He bites the inside of his cheek before stepping in front of you, “Why are you walking away from me?”

“Get away from me.”

“No.” he said as quickly as the words left your mouth.

You look at him, feeling your eyes sting, hot tears wanting to form, but you blink them away. “You should probably go find your girlfriend, you wouldn’t want to be seen hanging out with a slut like me, right?” you ask rhetorically.

“Hey-,” he cuts you off, frowning instantly when you call yourself that. “Stop it…you know I don’t see you that way.”

“That’s a fucking lie; I heard you talking to Yujin. Or are you surprised about that too since you were in the library and someone like me couldn’t possibly be in a place like that.” you say as you cross your arms, swallowing as if that will help mask your clear frustration.

“...what?” he asks quietly, freezing as he realizes what you’re saying.

“I heard you. I heard you agree with her when she called me a slut. I heard you say you "would never be stupid to fall for someone like me". Well, fuck you. Go be with your perfect girlfriend, asshole.” you say before you push past him, swallowing again, but this time to stop yourself from crying.

“Wait-” he tries to grab your arm again, but you pull it away and keep walking. He feels his heart sink as he watches you walk away. The world felt as if it just collapsed. He feels like he’s sinking and as he watches you become further from him, he feels like he’s lost everything. He’s holding his breath, not necessarily realizing he is, almost as if he exhales, he’s not sure he has the strength to take another breath knowing he’s hurt you; he doesn’t deserve to.

Everything moves in slow motion, all voices muffled, as Sunghoon feels himself being dragged inside of a party by Yujin. He can hear and see her laughing and talking with her friends as they walk inside the loud and crowded atmosphere, but he feels as if he’s hollow. He stands there like a zombie as Yujin talks and greets some of her friends. He’s not sure how it happened, especially since it was almost midnight and he honestly just wanted to go to sleep, but he somehow ended up here. His eyes felt heavy as they looked around the room, but he subconsciously stood up straighter when his eyes landed on you. It was like he had been resuscitated, his heart beating rapidly as he sees you and then he sees him.

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, noticing how Sungchan was standing closely to you, how his eyes scanned every inch of your body with some stupid, smug smirk on his face. Sunghoon rolled his eyes again and grimaced at the sight. He sees how you whisper something into his ear, Sungchan grinning as he places his hand on your hip. Suddenly, Sunghoon’s heart stopped again as his gaze fixates on his hand. His hand grips Yujin’s tightly as he clenches his jaw and his other hand curls into a fist, his fingernails digging into the palm of his hand. His breathing becomes heavy as he sees you smile, smile in a way he’s never had you smile at him before as your hand caresses Sungchan’s cheek while you clearly flirt back with him. Sunghoon was livid. He feels like an extra in his own life as he watches you fall for someone like that.

“Baby…?” Yujin asks, loosening her hand and taking it away from him since he was practically cutting off her circulation.

“I’m fine.” he mumbles, hints of anger and annoyance clear in his tone. He doesn’t look at her as he answers and she catches on.

She looks to where his gaze is and then she looks back at him, upset. “Why are you looking at her?” she asks as she crosses her arms. “You told me you don’t have feelings for her. I’m your girlfriend, not her.”

“Stop, Yujin, it’s not like that…” he mumbles, annoyed as he keeps looking at you and Sungchan. He watches as Sungchan puts his arm around your waist and he feels like the air has just been knocked out of him. His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he glares at the two of you, wanting nothing more than to shove him off of you.

Yujin scoffs, “I don’t even see how you could have feelings for a slut like her.” she mumbles, taking a sip of a drink her friend brought for her. Sunghoon keeps his attention on you. How Sungchan keeps you close, whispers in your ear to make you giggle and you indulge in it, how he touches you, and how he looks at you as if he’s some sick animal that wants to devour you. “Did you even hear me?” Yujin asks, pissed off.

“Yeah, I heard you.” Sunghoon mumbles as he continues watching the two of you.

Yujin glares at him and then grabs his hand, dragging him away from her friends. Sunghoon just goes along with it and as Yujin starts dragging him upstairs, Sungchan leas in and kisses you. Sunghoon’s eyes widen as he continues going upstairs with Yujin, her dragging him into an empty bedroom and closes the door behind them. Sunghoon feels like all thoughts had escaped him when he saw that and he stands there with only one thing on his mind: you.

“Let’s have sex.” Yujin says as she looks at him.

Sunghoon snaps out of it and looks at her, feeling like this is his first time seeing her tonight. He looks at her in confusion, not wanting to since he only has you on his mind, but he doesn’t want to upset her any further, so he nods his head. Yujin pulls him towards her and kisses him. He hesitates, feeling himself grimace, but he tries to ignore it and kiss her back. He doesn’t want to be up here with her, he wants to be down there with you. As they continue to kiss, Yujin begins to undress herself and Sunghoon feels himself tense up. He tries to forget about you and focus on her, thinking maybe helping her undress would help, but it doesn’t. Not even a little bit.

Yujin moves them over to the bed as she keeps kissing him and he sits there, partially kissing her back and also sitting stiff as a board. He knows this is supposed to be hot for him, having a practically naked girl on him, but he only finds himself wishing it was you. Yujin kisses down his neck as she takes off his shirt and he feels like he’s zoning out, not moving a muscle. Yujin moves her hands along his chest and down his body and then stops kissing him as she looks at him.

“You’re not even hard.” she says as she frowns. Sunghoon just stares at her, not necessarily surprised, but he still feels bad. "What the hell do you even like about her? She's a fucking whore who opens her legs for any and every guy. She has nothing else to offer besides her fucking pussy, which probably is already stretched beyond repair." Yujin says, angry. "She's nothing! She's not even special and yet she always gets any guy she wants. Well, why does she get you too?" Yujin tears up. "I'M your girlfriend, not her! Do you even love me?" Yujin asks, frustrated.

Sunghoon knows her anger is justified and he feels awful for feeling like he wants her to be you instead. As he watches and hears her say all of these things, he feels bad for treating her like this, but he also becomes angry at listening to what she’s saying about you. He feels bad for saying it feels like he doesn’t know you, because he does, and he knows you’re nothing like who she says you are.

“Answer me!” Yujin yells.

“I do love you.” Sunghoon says quickly.

“...do you love her?”

He stays quiet. Does he love you? He doesn’t know how to answer that. He knows he cares about you more than anyone else, he knows that even when you two fight, he would never want anyone else but you to be by his side, he knows that you’re the only one who gets him, he knows he likes making you smile and laugh and sometimes when you look at him, he feels like he can just look back at you forever. But is that love? Then, what is it he feels for Yujin? Does he love you and not her? How come he never realized it before? Did he always feel this way?

"Why the hell did you even ask me out? Why did you even ask me to be your girlfriend if all this time, you've wanted her? If all this time you've been in love with her?" Yujin asks, furious.

What is he supposed to say? Has he always been in love with you? He thinks for a moment. He thinks about why he asked her out in the first place, about a week after you hooked up with some guy after you two just started college. Was that the reason? Was it because he just wanted something and he knows deep down, you don’t want the same, so he found it somewhere else? You…everything has always been about you, his whole world has always revolved around you.

Yujin gets up and gets dressed. "If you want to be with her so badly, fine. But just know, she's still a whore. She'll just use you and then toss you aside." Yujin says as she finishes getting dressed. "But by all means, go sleep with that slut. We're done." Yujin says as she leaves the room.

Sunghoon sits on the bed in silence. Just great. Now, he doesn’t have a girlfriend and worst of all, he still can’t have you. He sits there for a moment longer before getting up and putting back on his shirt. Screw this party, he shouldn’t have come anyway. He walks out of the bedroom and goes downstairs, feeling like his mind is in a different place as he walks outside. He stops and notices you sitting on the curb, smoking a cigarette. He feels relieved, not seeing you in Sungchan’s arms, and for a split second, he wishes he could just walk over and take you into his, but he pushes that thought away and just decides to take a seat beside you on the curb instead. You scoot away a bit from him, silence looming over the two of you and he feels even worse.

“You shouldn’t be sitting here, you know. Your girlfriend might get pissy.” you mumble as you exhale some smoke.

“I’m not with Yujin anymore.”

You pause for a moment, “...I saw you two go upstairs.”

“She just…got upset that I couldn’t get hard. I just had so many thoughts running through my mind…” he trails off, not wanting to ramble on about it.

“Whatever.” you say as you take another drag.

“I wish I never asked her out.” he says before taking a deep breath, feeling like he said something he didn’t even realize he was keeping a secret, not even from himself.

“Why are you telling me this? In case you forgot, I am not your friend anymore. Not after what you and her said about me this morning.” You take another drag, “It's one thing for her to call me a slut, I don't care about her, but you? You agreed with her. You made fun of me. You're supposed to be my best friend and you say I'm a slut and then that you aren't "stupid" enough to date "someone like me"? Fuck you, honestly. I was so pissed when I heard that. I know we fought the other night, but I never thought you would say that shit about me.” You take another drag. “So stop talking to me about your problems like we're still friends. You want nothing to do with "someone like me"? Well, then, you got it.”

Sunghoon stays silent, feeling as if everything around him is crumbling. You’re sitting maybe a foot away from him, but he feels like you’re on the other side of the planet. “I’m sorry.” he says softly, feeling ashamed to have talked about you like that.

You shake your head and continue smoking. “Whatever.”

“I miss you.” he says suddenly. “And, I shouldn’t have said any of that this morning. I was trying to reassure Yujin at your expense and…that was a big fuck up by me. None of what I said was worth any pain I’ve caused you.”

“Well, I don’t miss you. I don’t even care.”

Sunghoon stays quiet for a moment. “I have to fix this. Not because I feel like it will make me feel better to know I said sorry, because that doesn’t fix anything; that doesn’t make you feel better. I want to fix this because, even if you don’t believe me, I value our friendship more than anything in the world.”

You scoff and don’t reply, blinking away your tears as you continue smoking. “I don’t need you. Think what you want about me, I don’t give a fuck.”

“Hey…” he says tentatively as he notices you blinking away tears. He feels like he got punched in the gut and hates himself for knowing he’s the one that caused you to feel this way. “I know I hurt you…a lot.” he admits. He doesn’t know if you would want to listen to anything else he has to say, but he wants nothing more than for everything to go back to normal. To have you back. To just have you look at him. Anything.

You scoff, “You? As if.” you say as you put out your cigarette. “Don’t flatter yourself. Like I care about your opinion.” you say as you stand up. “I don’t need your pity and I don’t need your friendship. I don’t need you.” you say as you walk away and back into the party.

He doesn’t hesitate to follow you, not wanting to let you go. He can’t. He can’t bear the thought of you actually not being a part of his life, not for one goddamn second. He tries to catch up to you, but he stops in his tracks when he sees you go back over to Sungchan. It feels as though time has stopped and he was cursed with having to watch you be with him for the rest of his life. You whisper something to Sungchan, prompting him to grin and put his hands on your waist. Sunghoon feels like he’s about to collapse as he watches Sungchan whisper something back to you before taking your hand and leading you upstairs. He wants to do something, take you away from him, tell you that you mean so much more and are so much more than whatever Sungchan thinks about you. How you mean everything to him and watching you walk upstairs with some other guy feels as though you are taking away every piece of Sunghoon, breaking him apart. But he doesn’t and an hour passes before you walk back downstairs with Sungchan, his arm around your waist.

Sungchan whispers something in your ear before letting you go and walking over to his friends, all of them laughing and teasing him. You just walk back out of the party, feeling sick to your stomach; as if you just made the biggest mistake of your life; shame. As you walk down the sidewalk, the night suddenly feels much colder than before. You take out your cigarettes and start smoking another one. Sunghoon follows and catches up, “Can I have one?” he asks, not knowing what else to say, but wanting to say something. You stay quiet, but eventually extend the one you were smoking to him. You stop walking as he takes it, taking a drag as he stands beside you.

You hold out your hand, wanting it back and after he takes another inhale from it, he exchanges it back. You take another drag, staying quiet, as you extend it back to him. He takes it as you two share the cigarette and he hands it back to you, almost wanting to just hold your hand instead. You take a long drag, holding the smoke for a while before slowly exhaling. “...you were right.” you say quietly as you hold the cigarette out for him. “It is lonely.”

He takes the cigarette, feeling hopeful that this is the beginning of an honest conversation, and relieved that you’re opening up. He hands it back to you, “Are you lonely? Do you miss having a relationship?” he asks, softly, wanting to make sure he’s being cautious so he doesn’t hurt you again.

“Not the ones I used to be in, no. Those guys were…well, you know.”

“Yeah…” he mumbles. You sigh and take a seat on the curb. He follows suit, seeing if you’ll say something else, but deciding to break the silence. “So…what kind of guy do you want?” he asks, deep down hoping for a certain answer.

You don’t answer him and instead, ignore his question. In all honesty, you don’t know. Well, you do, but you’re too scared to admit it. “You were also right about me being a slut.”

“I-I didn’t mean it-”

“You know it, everybody else knows it…and I always knew it.” You take your cigarette back and take a drag. “Hearing you say it sucked, though, but I know it’s the truth.”

“I shouldn’t have said it. I was so caught up in trying to make Yujin feel better and fix things between us when it wasn’t worth it. Not when it came at your expense.”

“I know.”

“I should’ve still stuck up for you. It didn’t matter if she was my girlfriend, you don’t deserve to be talked about like that.”

You shrug and hand him the cigarette, lighting a new one for yourself to smoke. “I don’t care anymore. Hooking up with Sungchan just now made me realize it. Seeing and hearing his friends tease him for it…” you take a long drag, “I knew that’s what I am.”

He does the same and looks at you. “Did you want to hook up with him?”

“No.”

“Then, why did you do it?” You ignore his question and keep smoking. “Hey…” he says softly. He knows you’re avoiding his question, but he wants to hear what you have to say.

“What happened with you and Yujin tonight?” you ask, wanting to change the subject.

“Just…an argument.”

“About…?”

“That’s not important.”

“You wanted to tell me all about it earlier. You said something about you not getting hard and regretting asking her out. What the hell happened? I thought you loved her or whatever.” you mumble as you inhale more smoke, a part of you hoping it chokes you.

“I do love her. But I guess…it meant something different to her. She wanted things from me I couldn’t do.”

“Like what.”

“Like…her not wanting us to be friends anymore.”

You scoff before continuing to smoke. “You should’ve chosen her.”

Sunghoon raises an eyebrow as he takes a drag. “You think I shouldn't have chosen my friend who's been with me through thick and thin over someone who was basically controlling who I talked to?”

“She was just controlling that you don't talk to me. Can't blame her, she probably thought I would try to sleep with you or something. Besides, since when did us being friends for so long suddenly matter? It didn't when you agreed with her about me being a slut.”

“It matters to me.” He says, feeling his heart sink a little at your words. It seemed like you didn’t think your friendship meant anything. He takes another drag and sighs quietly before continuing. “You’re my best friend. I care about you more than anyone else.” You stay silent as you continue to smoke. “Do you really think I don’t care about you?” he asks, softly. You just keep smoking, not really sure how to answer. He sighs to himself as he does the same and his mind wanders to thinking about you and Sungchan again. He rolls his eyes to himself as he tries to push those thoughts out of his head.

“You asked me if I ever felt heartbreak when we fought that night, talking about if that’s why I have commitment issues or whatever.” you say as you take another drag. “Yeah…I have.”

“Was the heartbreak from…” he let’s the question linger in the air for a moment, “a relationship?” You shake your head. “So…what was it from then? Who broke your heart?”

You stay silent for a moment, just smoking “...i didn't realize I fell in love with him until he got a girlfriend, well, his first serious girlfriend. At first, I didn't really care, but then…” you go quiet for a moment as you keep looking ahead, not at him. “The way he talked about her, would smile a certain way when he was with her, like he's never smiled at me before...laughing at jokes they shared...seeing him kiss her, hold her hand…” you take another drag, “holding her hand..” you repeat, like you’re lost in thought. “It's something so stupid and simple, but I've never had a guy hold my hand romantically...but he held hers and I remember feeling like I couldn't breathe. I couldn't do a damn thing but suddenly wish I was his girlfriend instead. And then I realized. I loved him.” you take another drag, “I loved him and he was in love with someone else.”

He stayed quiet the whole time you talked. He took in every single word. He took in how you said every single word, how you looked as you spoke. He felt his heart break for you. The way you talked about it was nothing like he’s ever heard you talk about; so…innocent. “Did you ever try to tell him how you felt?”

You stay quiet for a moment as you swallow. “I almost did. One time. I just felt so tired from pretending and I didn't want to just hookup with anyone anymore. I wanted to be his more than anything in the world. I almost told him and then…” you take another drag from your cigarette. “He started telling me about how he finally had sex with his girlfriend. How hot she is. How he had never seen anyone so beautiful. How he couldn't believe he was so lucky to be dating her. Fuck-” you pinch your thigh to stop yourself from crying as you take another drag. “I felt so...gross. I had never had a guy say that about me, never had a guy be proud to be with me, but the way he talked about her and everything he was saying...I knew he would laugh in my face if I, just some slut, was in love with him; he would feel grossed out or whatever. No matter how close I thought we were, I knew right then and there I would never be like her. Never like the girl he wanted.” you take another drag, “So I didn't say anything.”

Sunghoon stayed quiet again, feeling awful. He hated that you thought about yourself that way. He hated that other people had made you feel that…him included. He hated this guy, especially, for making you feel this way. What a piece of shit. You deserve nothing but the best and this guy pulls this bullshit with you? He was about ready to punch him in the face. “And you’re still friends with him? After he did all of this to you?”

“He’s all I’ve ever had.”

“He’s not all you have, though. What about me?” he asks, intending to make something positive out of this all. He just wants you to know how precious you are to him because he cares about you so much.

This, doesn’t help whatsoever, and you feel like you’re about to burst into tears. You can’t tell if he’s the idiot or if you are; maybe the latter. But when he says that, you just feel like sobbing, curling up into a ball, and dying right then and there. You pinch your thigh again, to prevent yourself from crying because you absolutely loathe it.

He notices and immediately puts his hand on yours to stop you. He hates seeing you like this and he looks at you, not wanting you to suppress this anymore.

His hand on yours, however, makes you feel even worse. Worse because it makes your stomach do flips and you can feel your heart beat faster. Worse because you know it only carries the connotation of a friend comforting a friend…nothing more. You pull your hand away and continue smoking.

He doesn’t say anything and he doesn’t try to take your hand back. It hurts him to see you pull yourself away. He just wants to make you feel better, feel safe, feel loved. Feel nothing but happiness because that’s all you deserve. But you don’t. He wants to give you everything, and so, he tries again to comfort you. He reaches for your hand, gently taking it into his, it enveloping yours as he holds it as if it is the most delicate thing on earth.

“Don’t.” you whisper, taking your hand away.

You didn’t want to. God, you didn’t want to. His hand felt like silk against yours, but you felt like you didn’t deserve it. Compared to his, your hand was like felt, worth far less than his. You didn’t want him to hold your hand, not like this. You wanted it to mean something, have some sort of value. Not for comfort. Not because he’s your best friend. Not because he felt bad. But because he loved you. Because he wanted to hold your hand and be proud as he held it. Because he wanted to claim you as is. Because you wanted to be his.

He lets go of your hand and stays silent for a moment. It was as if a part of him died inside as you pulled away your hand. All the thoughts that he was having a few seconds ago were replaced by sadness. His hands tightened into fists from the frustration of being unable to comfort you or take away your sadness. He wanted so desperately to try again, but he knew that there was nothing he could do right now. Slowly, he takes another drag of his cigarette, and you do the same with yours.

“Did you cry whenever he would talk about his girlfriend like that? Did you cry anytime he complimented her?”

You don’t answer for a while. “Yeah. When he told me he loved her, I cried later. After that, I pretended like I didn't care. And for a while, it worked. I would just hook up with guys and I would still talk and hang out with him because he didn't treat me like what everyone else saw me as. He never did. And that's one of the reasons I fell in love with him, I guess, but then sometimes...he would start talking about her and then I just...felt worse. At some point, I just kind of felt numb about it, especially after he told me about the first time they had sex. He talked about it like it was so special...like she was so special...and I just decided then and there I couldn't love him. So, I just pretended and after a while, I thought I didn't love him anymore, but one night, he started talking about how he couldn't lose his girlfriend, how he wanted to make things with her work and I felt that same feeling again, like I was going to be sick. Then, I heard him say what he really thought about me and that was the last time I cried about him.”

“What did he say about you? Did he insult you?” he asks as he feels himself becoming angry, wondering what this jerk could’ve possibly said about you to make you feel this way. But, you don’t answer, you just remain quiet and that made him want to punch this guy even more. “Do you miss him?” he asks, quietly.

“...i miss being oblivious to the fact that I love him.”

He feels his heart drop when you say that. You still love him? He swallows, feeling like he’s choking and as if all of the oxygen has been sucked out of the atmosphere. “So…you do love him. You’re still in love with him?” Once you ignore him again, the answer is clear. “You do still love him…” he mumbles. Anger courses through his veins because you’re in love with someone so fucking awful. How could you give all of yourself to someone who is too blind to see how much you’re worth? How much you mean and value you provide to meaning of life it’s goddamn self? He watches as you continue smoking. “So, you mean to tell me, after everything he’s done to you, you still love him?”

“He doesn’t know.”

“He doesn’t know you’re in love with him?”

“I told you, I never told him.”

This doesn’t help him feel any less bad for you. Some douche was out and about being happy and in love while you suffer on the sidelines? “Are you ever going to tell him?”

You shake your head as you look down. How could you? Especially since you’re delivering this whole pathetic monologue and he still isn’t taking any goddamn hint.

“Is it because he’s still with his girlfriend?”

“I don’t want to talk about this.” you say as you finish your cigarette.

He becomes frustrated, “Is he?”

“No.”

“So, they broke up.” You ignore his question once more. He waits a few seconds before speaking up again, “I’m taking that as a ‘yes’ then.”

“Why does it matter? Why do you care?”

“Why do I care?” he asks as if this question has the most obvious answer. He scoffs and takes another drag out of frustration. “Because I’m your best friend, dumbass.”

This only makes you frown as you pinch your thigh again to stop the tears threatening to fall. He frowns as well when he sees this and reaches his hand over again. “Stop.” he says as he grabs your hand. You look down at your hands and you take yours away again. He feels a lump form in his throat when you pull your hand away as a pit of sadness just keeps growing and growing in his stomach. “Why are you doing that? …do you honestly think I don’t care about you?” You just keep staring ahead of you, not looking at him once. He takes another drag and sighs. “Have I ever given you a reason for you to think that I don’t care? Have I hurt you like that guy did?”

His questions make you stay silent for a long time. You wish that you could just disappear. Or that you could go back in time and stop yourself from having these stupid feelings. Or…that you never met him in the first place. Maybe then things would be easier. Better.

“Just…answer me.” he says, pleading, almost. He wants you to understand that he is here for you, he always will be and nothing is going to get in the way of that anymore. He wants this to be clear, so he tries to hold your hand again to show his support, but you take it away once he does.

“Are you pretending or are you actually this clueless?” you ask, becoming frustrated, your voice having a hint of pain in it.

His stomach tightened when you rejected him once more. He doesn’t look at you, suddenly afraid to see your expression. He doesn’t know what to do, how to make you feel better. He stays silent for a moment and continues smoking. “Pretending about what?” he asks. You become increasingly frustrated and pinch your thigh again. He notices and grabs your hand again, “Stop.” he says sternly, but you pull your hand away.

“Jesus, you’re the guy.”

He feels himself freeze. “What the hell do you mean ‘I’m the guy’?”

“Are you dense?” you raise an eyebrow. “You’re the guy I’ve been talking about this whole damn time!”

“...i’m the guy?” he asks, completely stunned. You let out a huff of frustration and stand up, walking away. He doesn’t hesitate to stand up and go after you. He grabs your arm to stop you. “Wait, you can’t just leave…”

You keep pinching your thigh, a part of you believing it will wake you up from this nightmare as you avoid his gaze. You take your arm away from his grip. “Just forget it.”

“No. You just said I’m the guy, right? The one you’re in love with?” He asks, all of his focus on you. You ignore his question and turn around, walking away. He groans and he moves in front of you, stopping you. “You love me?” But you just avoid his gaze and don’t answer his question. He sighs, “I’m not letting you leave until you tell me.”

“No.”

He frowns. “Look at me.” he whispers. “Please…” he moves closer to you. “Do you love me?”

“Why does it matter?”

“You tell me. Why doesn’t it matter?”

You punch your thigh harshly a few times as you finally look at him. Your breath hitches as tears well in your eyes, despite you trying to ignore them. “Because I’m just a slut.”

He grabs your hand and stops you. He feels panicked, not knowing what to do or say. He doesn’t want you to cry or punish yourself. “Stop it. Stop with that bullshit. You’re not a slut, don’t you dare ever call yourself that.”

“You said it yourself. You agree with everyone else. I know you don't feel the same. I know you'll never talk about me the way you talk about Yujin or see me the way you see her. I know you said you guys broke up, but so what? I know what I am and I know that's all I'll ever be.”

He feels tears prick his own eyes as he listens to you. He shakes his head, “Stop that. Stop saying that I’ll never feel the same. Stop saying that you’re just a slut.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter! It matters to me. You’re not just “some slut”. You’re my best friend.”

You frown as you feel the urge to cry become stronger. You take your hand away and you pinch your thigh again, just wanting the tears to go away. What he said made you feel awful. It’s not what you wanted to hear. You didn’t want to be just that…and he just kept reminding you that that’s all you are. “...do you honestly think that makes me feel better?”

He frowns, “Fine. Maybe it doesn’t make you feel better. But it should. Because it’s the fucking truth.”

“Are you even thinking about what I told you? Are you even thinking about how you're the guy I've been talking about? How every time you talked about Yujin, every time I saw you hold her hand, how you talked about her when you told me about the first time you guys had sex, that I just wanted to curl up and die? You don't get it. You calling me your best friend doesn't make me feel any fucking better. It makes me feel worse than when people call me a slut. But I don't want you to stand here and try to make me feel better, because if you think telling me you care about me because I'm your 'best friend' is going to make me feel better, then you haven't listened to a damn thing I've said.”

He stares at you sympathetically. He stares at you as he realizes just how badly he’s broken your heart. As he realizes he broke your heart.

“I don't want to be your best friend. I don't want you to tell me I'm your best friend.” You keep pinching your thigh harder, but tears roll down your cheeks anyway. “I wanted it to be me.” you say as you cry even though you keep pinching harder. “I wanted to hold your hand romantically. I wanted you to smile at me the way you did with her. I wanted you to talk about me the way you talked about her.” Your breath hitches as you cry and pinch your thigh harder, your nails digging into your skin. “I wanted to be special to you. I wanted you to tell me you love me. I wanted to be your girlfriend...more than anything in the world.” You cry harder even though you try not to and you dig your nails more into your thigh.

He’s never seen you cry. Not when you broke your arm, not when your pet goldfish died, not when your first boyfriend broke up with you, not even when you get incredibly frustrated. He has never seen you cry. But he hates it. He doesn’t want to see you so sad, so hurt, in so much pain…and he hated it even more because he–the one person you loved more than anything else–was the one who was making you feel this way. He pulls you into him, hugging you tightly, just wanting to take your pain away, just wanting you to…feel loved. But you push him away and wipe your tears, and he notices the imprints from your nails on your thighs. He doesn’t even realize it, but he reaches his hand out and gently touches the marks as he looks at them. He touches the ridges softly and your skin feels so smooth to him, so precious, but you push his hand away. His eyes travel up to meet yours and he sees you’ve stopped crying.

“Why wouldn’t you just have told me how you felt?” he asks, quietly.

“For starters, you had a girlfriend. The other reason: it doesn’t matter.”

“What if I never got with Yujin? What if I was single the whole time?”

“I didn’t realize I loved you until you started dating her…”

“Why her? I’ve dated other girls before, so why her?”

You shrug, “She’s the only one you really seemed to be serious about…the only one you told you loved. Besides…I’m not some sort of homewrecker.”

“I wish you told me.” he whispers. “You were never going to tell me?”

“No.”

“So, you were just hoping I would never find out?”

“Yes.”

“So, you were just going to keep that secret for the rest of your life?”

“Yeah.”

“So, you were just going to live with that pain forever?”

“Are you going to keep asking the same question?”

“I just want to know…” he says as if he’s desperate. “Why…why would you not tell me?”

“Because you were with Yujin! Because you kept telling me how much you loved her! How pretty you thought she was, how happy you were to be with her, how smart and kind and funny and fucking perfect you thought she was! You were happy. You were happy with someone who wasn't me and although that killed me, you were happy. I couldn't do that to you.” you say as your voice breaks.

“So that justified you suffering in silence? Why would you rather see me happy while you were in pain?”

You look at him like the answer was obvious. How does he not get it? You stare at him as you remain quiet, looking at him as if it’s your last time. “Because I love you.” you say, softly.

He feels like you’re looking at him as if he is the most special person to walk on earth. He swallows out of nervousness as he realizes you gave him your heart completely. “You love me so much that you were willing to put yourself through hell just to see me be happy?” He doesn’t feel worthy of that…but you seem to think he is. You love him.

“Wouldn’t you have done the same for Yujin?”

You don’t want to hear him answer this. You don’t want to know, but you feel like he doesn’t understand. You feel like you keep repeating yourself and he’s relishing in it.

He doesn’t know how to answer. Would he? Hearing how you describe your love for him, he realizes what he felt for Yujin maybe wasn’t love. Maybe it was comfort. Or security. Or the fact that someone wanted to be with him so seriously. Maybe he did love her, but…not the way you love him. This sounds like love. This sounds like what he was supposed to feel. “Yes…” he says, not really sure if that’s true. He wants to believe he loves her. He wants to believe he didn’t waste almost four years on something that ends up meaning absolutely nothing. He has to love her.

“Then you get it.”

“Did you just hope we would break up one day so you and I would get together?”

You sigh, “You still don't get it. I know you don't feel the same way. I know I am not the type of girl you want to be with. I'm not the type of girl any guy wants to be with seriously.”

How could you say that about yourself? Sunghoon doesn’t believe any of that, not for a single fucking second. “That isn’t true. You’re smart, kind, funny, and pretty.”

“Stop.”

“No. It’s true. Everything I just said is true. You think no guy would be able to fall in love with you, but they would. You would make an awesome girlfriend.” he tries to reassure you.

You don’t want any guy.

“You’re not making me feel better.”

“What am I supposed to do, then? Agree with the bullshit you’re saying about yourself? Because that’s not fucking happening.”

“What I want you to say…you can’t.”

“Try me. Tell me.”

You just look at him. He doesn’t get it. He isn’t saying it because he doesn’t feel the same. This realization makes you feel like you’re crumpling. You look at him, defeated. If you have to tell him, you know he would only say it to make you feel better, not because he actually wants to. That. That’s what hurts the most. He would say it because you’re his best friend…but you don’t want to be.

“...are you going to try and get back together with Yujin?”

He pauses. He thinks about it for a second. “Right now…I don’t know. I guess a part of me wants to try still. Does that make me shitty?” He’s not sure why he does. Yujin is the first girl he’s ever told he loved…and he doesn’t say it often. Maybe he’s like you, in a way. He doesn’t really like saying stuff like that. It felt weird when he said it. But he thinks that’s just because he’s never said it before.

“Why would I?”

“I feel like an asshole for even considering it after everything you’ve told me-”

“She’s the one you love.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” he says, truthfully. He just needs to think. He just needs one damn second to think.

“Then let me make it clear: be with her. From my perspective, she's the one you want. What I told you, how I so stupidly cried in front of you, that doesn't matter. I told you this earlier: you should've chosen her. So just, make up with her tomorrow or whatever and be with her.” you swallow. “...but I can't be your friend.”

He sees you giving up. He hears it. He hates it. His mind is running a thousand miles per minute, he can’t fucking think and it’s pissing him off. “It’s not that easy. I can’t just ‘choose’ between the two of you. I’m confused, I just…I want to be with whoever makes me happy.”

He’s always been happy with you. Sure, you two fought, but you always got over it. You make him happy. So goddamn happy. But he’s scared. He just gave nearly four years of his life to Yujin…what if it’s because he does love her?

“That’s her.”

“How are you so sure it’s not you?”

“I know.”

He groans in frustration. “So, I have to choose between the two of you?”

You. He chooses you. He’s not sure about the rest of it, but all he knows is that he chooses you. Four years with Yujin doesn’t compare to the years you and him have had together. Nothing else matters. You. Just you.

“Just be with her.”

“What if I want to be with you?”

He hasn’t thought about it. Maybe he chooses you only as a best friend. What if he doesn’t choose you for love? …does he love you? He recalls the teasing from classmates when you guys were younger, but he's never really given any thought to it possibly becoming real. Does he love you the same way he loves Yujin? Does he even love Yujin? He doesn’t know…he just doesn’t know.

“You don’t.”

“And what makes you so sure that I choose Yujin over you? What makes you so sure you’re ‘not enough’ for me?”

“...because you would’ve chosen me first.”

“I can still choose you.”

You sigh, “You're making this complicated. You know she's the one you love, stop feeling bad for me like I'm some lost puppy and just admit it. I don't want your pity and I certainly don't want you to say you ‘choose me’ because you're confusing your pity for feelings. Stop saying I'm this great girl and stop saying any guy would be lucky to have me, that makes me feel worse. So just make up with Yujin and get back with her. Reassure her that you love her because you do and tell her I won't be a problem anymore because you and I aren't anything anymore. Problem solved.”

Is this really what you believed? Is this really what you thought? He just needed some time, he can’t think. He doesn’t know what to think anymore. You were speaking as if it was impossible for him to love you, but what if he does? How is he supposed to know? How did he know with Yujin? He’s questioning whether he even loved her since he can’t even compare how he feels about you with whatever he felt with her. He just knows it’s stronger. But stronger in what way? He sees how you’re looking at him and he realizes the only way for him to succeed in making you feel better–which is what he truly wants–is to just listen to you. He doesn’t want to. But he wants to see you be happy, even if it means he isn’t.

“Are you really sure this is what you want me to do?” he barely asks, the words leaving his mouth without any fever, as if he never wanted to utter them in the first place. As if he doesn’t want to hear your answer; see you walk out of his life.

You don’t answer him. You just look at him before walking past him. You hold your breath, knowing that once you exhale, you’re going to start sobbing. You felt so lonely. So lonely. You’ve always had him…and then you lost him to Yujin…and now, you’ve lost him for good.

He doesn’t turn around to look at you as you walk away, because he knows if he does, he will run after you and that clearly isn’t what you want. You want to let him go, at least that’s how he understands it. He doesn’t want that. He wants you. He knows that much, he knows he needs you. He’s not sure how things will look without you now. He never thought it would be like this, but here he is. …why does this feel so much worse than when Yujin walked away from him? Why does this hurt more than his actual breakup? The reason is one he doesn’t want to admit. He realizes the answer and he refuses to let it grow to fruition. He doesn’t know why it took him until now to figure it out, but he’ll realize that later. He wanted time…now, he’s got it.

Deja vu. That’s what this all feels like. Here Sunghoon was, again, at another stupid frat party around midnight. Here he was, again, with Yujin. He took your advice, he decided to apologize and get back together with her, and these past few months without you have felt like torture. Even using torture to describe it seems too dull. He has thought about nothing but you. He’s heard around campus about people you’ve hooked up with, but he doesn’t feed into it. As he stands here with Yujin at this godforsaken party, all he can feel is regret. He leans against a wall as Yujin talks with her friends and he practically chugs his drink. He doesn’t even want to leave the party because he doesn't think it's worth to waste any of his wants on anything but you. You make up all of his desires and he wants nothing more than for you to be back into his life. He finishes the rest of his drink and to his surprise, he does see you. He stands up straighter as he looks at you, but feels like his insides are on fire when he realizes you’re making out with Sungchan. On the couch. On the couch, you are making out with Sungchan. On the couch, Sungchan is running his hands along your hips and waist. On the couch, you let him.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t miss Sunghoon. A part of you went missing the night you walked away from him. You’ve seen him around campus with Yujin and eventually, it finally felt like you were over it all. Over him. You wouldn’t say you’ve been getting around quite frequently, but you won’t lie when you say that you did get with some guys to help get over him. It didn’t work. But you won’t admit to that. To you, at least, you’re over it. Over him. Sungchan helped a bit with some of the lonely nights, but you two aren’t anything serious. He’s not into that sort of thing and, hey, neither are you…so this is fine. He doesn’t lie to you about how he feels or what he wants and for that, you’re grateful. Although, you do have to admit, making out with him feels boring. Being with him feels boring. It’s not fun like it used to be…and even then, you aren’t completely sure it was even fun in the first place. Whatever, you’ll get into it at some point.

Sunghoon watches, now it really feels like deja vu. Is he dreaming? Or…is this him getting a second chance? Is this when he can finally pull you away from Sungchan and be there for you? Finally tell you how he feels? How he felt the whole time…? Suddenly, his spirits are slightly lifted, that is, until Yujin crosses her arms and scoffs before shoving him. Sunghoon is surprised and turns his attention towards her. Some people look at them, but Yujin doesn’t care, she just looks at Sunghoon, furious.

“Do you even want me to be your girlfriend?”

Maybe honesty wouldn’t be best right now. “I do…”

“Then stop looking at her.”

“Let’s…not make a scene.” he says, trying to calm her down.

“Just be honest for once: do you love me or her?”

He doesn’t know how to answer. He knows his answer, he’s had months to figure it out. But…you made yourself clear. You were done with each other. He sighs. “Can I get a moment to figure it out?” he asks, honestly a bit surprised he didn’t just cave and reassure her.

Yujin frowns and scoffs. “Let me ask you this, then. Do you wish that you were making out with her?”

He looks back at you and Sungchan, seeing him whisper something to you and you giggling before he kisses you again. He looks back at Yujin. “Yeah.” he swallows, gathering all of his courage. “But, that sounds…awful. It’s like you want me to admit I regret getting back together with you or something-”

“Do you?”

“Yes.” he answers without hesitation. He feels all of his muscles tense up. Did he really just say that? Well…it’s the truth, but he never thought he would say it. He feels…better.

Yujin quickly squashes that by slapping him, “We’re done.” she says before storming out, her friends following. Sure, the slap hurt, but as Sunghoon looks back at you and Sungchan…the pain from the slap seems so insignificant in comparison.

You decide to tell Sungchan you’re getting a drink, so you get up from the couch and go into the kitchen. You pour yourself a drink and once you do, you walk to the backyard and take a seat on the patio.

Sunghoon figures you want to be alone…but finds himself following you outside anyway. He walks over to you cautiously. You and him have spoken consistently for practically your whole lives, but he finds himself struggling to even say a simple sentence or ask a question. The time you’ve spent apart was multiple days…too many fucking days in his opinion. He can’t stand it. “Can I sit here?” he asks, referencing the spot beside you. You shrug as you take a sip of your drink. He feels relieved, baby steps, right? He takes a seat beside you and thinks for a moment on how to keep the conversation going. “So…what were you telling Sungchan?” …has he lost the ability to socialize or something because why was this the question he asks? He bites his bottom lip a bit in frustration at himself.

“Spying on me?” you tease as you extend your cup, offering him some.

Sunghoon chuckles softly and shakes his head. Hearing your voice for the first time in months makes him remember just how much he’s missed you. He feels like everything in his life is restored and he smiles a bit. “You guys were all over each other on the couch, is it really weird for me to wonder?”

You shrug, “I mean, just typical flirting and dirty talk or whatever. Why?”

He feels his breath catch in his throat. “Dirty talk”?...what the fuck? “Um…no reason…I guess I was just…curious or something.” he mumbles.

“Are you here with Yujin?” you ask as you take another sip of your drink.

He shakes his head. “Well, not anymore. She broke up with me so…I’m alone now.” he realizes how that might’ve come off. “Alone here now…not…me alone altogether…or anything.” he cringes and looks away from you, feeling completely stupid.

“What? Why did she break up with you?”

“She…saw me…looking at you and Sungchan…so she broke up with me.” he says, not really wanting to say the other stuff from the argument. You laugh in response and he frowns. “Don’t laugh.”

You nudge his shoulder, “It’s okay. If she broke up with you for that dumb of a reason, her loss.” You say as you take another sip.

He smiles slightly. It feels like old times. It feels like he has you back. It feels like you want him back. “Yeah, you’re probably right. It’s probably best I don’t have her constantly being suspicious about me and you.”

“Especially since we haven’t talked in months.”

He feels caught off guard by your blunt statement. Sure, it’s true…but it sounds like you didn’t miss him. “Yeah…we haven’t talked in a while.” You just take another sip of your drink and he looks back at you. “I’ve missed you.” He waited for you to say something back, but you didn’t. “I’ve um…missed talking to you like before. Like, before…everything got complicated and stuff-”

“I know what you meant.”

He nods his head a bit, everything now feeling awkward. “So…what have you been up to? Anything interesting happen?”

“Nope.”

“Really? Nothing? Nothing at all?”

“Yup” you say as you take another drink.

“So…for the past few months, you’ve done absolutely nothing interesting?” he asks, his tone being more lighthearted and joking to try and diffuse the tension.

“No offense, but I’m not really looking to ‘catch up’ with you.”

Sunghoon feels his heart stop for a moment, but he tries to play it off. “Okay, ouch.” he laughs nervously, “So you’re not even remotely interested in talking with me?”

You shrug, “I dunno. These past few months without you, I’ve kinda just been doing my own thing, I guess.”

Your response left him feeling worthless. Like, he didn’t even mean a single thing to you before. Which, he knows isn’t true…but you sound like you mean it. “So, you haven’t missed me at all? Not even talking to me?”

“At first, yeah. But don’t worry, I’m not in love with you anymore.”

“...you’re not…in love with me anymore…?” he asks as he feels his blood run cold. You just shake your head and continue drinking from your cup. His heart sinks immediately. He feels small; insignificant. His mind jumps back to Sungchan and he frowns. “Are you in love with him now?”

“Him?”

“Sungchan.”

“Eh,” you shrug, “we’re not dating, just casual, I guess.”

“So, you’re not exclusive with him?”

“No.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah.”

He feels himself growing jealous and frustrated. How could you give yourself to someone who doesn’t love you? Sunghoon feels upset, realizing he unintentionally did the same thing, but still, not to this extent. He knows you. He knows you don’t want this…hopefully. But he sure as hell knows that you don’t deserve this.

“That’s ridiculous. How can you be committed to this?”

“I’m not committed.”

He groans, “That’s…not what I meant. What do you two even get out of this?”

You shrug, “Why do you care? I get you’re a relationship guy even though you’ve only been serious with one girl, but don’t shit on me and what I choose to do.”

The way you spoke got under his skin. “I care because I happen to care about the people around me. In case you haven’t noticed, I care about you.” But you just roll your eyes. “Don’t roll your eyes. I’m being serious. Why do you feel like this isn’t worth talking about?”

“Because we aren’t friends. We aren’t anything. I don’t need your input.”

It feels like you’ve slapped him in the face, and this time, it fucking stings. “What do you mean we aren’t friends? We grew up together, how the hell are we not friends?”

“Are you stupid?”

“Am I stupid?” he asks, offended and frustrated. He was starting to lose his patience. “No. I’m not. I still consider you as my friend. We grew up together, went to the same schools, hung out every damn day, how is none of that relevant?”

“We haven’t spoken in months.”

“So what?” he asks, feeling as though your friendship suddenly means less than nothing to you, somehow.

“I told you that night that I wasn’t going to be your friend anymore.”

He freezes. He knows. He also knows you don’t just say shit without it meaning anything. He knows you aren’t friends anymore, but he doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want you to be nothing to each other. He thought that if, maybe, he admitted he still sees you as his friend, you would admit the same. But you don’t. And now he feels that same empty feeling. “So…you’re just fine with letting us go without a second thought?”

You look at him, “Do you not remember anything from that night? Of course if fucking hurt; I was in love with you.”

“So it does matter.”

You sigh, “It doesn’t matter anymore; that was a long time ago.” you say as you take another sip.

He looks at you for a moment, feeling like his heart has become a punching bag and you were just taking any hit you could. Was this really the same person he grew up with? That he… “How could it not matter anymore? We used to mean the world to each other…how can that just…be…over?”

You look at him, “Because I had to get over you.”

“It’s not that easy. I spent everyday thinking about you. Everyday.”

“Why?”

“Because I love you!” He thought your question was so redundant, he honestly didn’t even realize what he said at first.

“But…” you sit there, stunned. He finally said what you wanted him to say for so long, even if it was with a frustrated tone, still…it counted. “What about Yujin?”

“She…she doesn’t matter. You do. She always suspected I was in love with you-”

“Well, this is news to me.”

He deadpans. “Are you being fucking serious? I get I never said it before, but…” he pauses; he sees what you mean. “Okay…but…you never once thought it was possible that I love you?”

“No. Because that night when I told you that night that I was in love with you, you just kept saying I was your best friend. You’re so full of it.”

“I’m not full of it! I just…for fucks sake, I just didn’t know. I thought…I don’t know, I thought maybe for you it was just passing, or something, I don’t know what I thought I just…I don’t know.”

“Right. So as I stood there, crying my eyes out as I told you how much I loved you, you thought it was one sided.” you say as you roll your eyes.

“I…” he feels like he did that night, like he can’t think. “I just didn’t know, maybe something was holding me back, I don’t know.”

“I know why.”

He looks at you, relieved, thankful that you understand what he means. “You do?”

“Of course you didn’t want to admit to that. How embarrassing for you to have a crush on one of the school’s biggest sluts.”

He frowns. “That’s not what I mean. You honestly think it’s embarrassing for me to like you?”

“Exactly. And you knew that. I don’t blame you, no guy wants their girlfriend to be a whore.” You take another sip of your drink and you look at him. “Look, I’m not mad. I got over it and I honestly don’t care anymore. I know what I am and I know that until we graduate, that’s all I’ll probably be. But it doesn’t matter. Yujin breaking up with you not too long ago was dumb, you’re a really great guy, but you’ll find someone else.” You take another sip, “I should probably head back in and find Sungchan.”

He felt anger wash over him. Not because you don’t believe him about being in love with you. Not because you were going to Sungchan. But because of the fact that you believe the things you say about yourself. You’re so special, so goddamn special, and Sunghoon is so scared as he realizes he may be too late.

“And what if I don’t want to find someone else? What if I don’t want anyone else but you?”

You look at him for a moment. “Do you remember how you would talk about Yujin with me? You may not remember everything you said, but I remember it all and I remember how you looked as you said it. You talked about her like she was the most special and most beautiful girl in the world. You had this smile that you only had with her…” you pause for a moment, “You may say you have feelings for me…but they're not like the ones you had for her, and that’s okay. I don’t want you to feel bad because you deserve to be happy, but you also deserve to find another girl that makes you talk and feel that same way…and I know that’s not me.”

You’re so wrong. You’re so fucking wrong and it was pissing him off. He wishes he just figured this out earlier. He wishes that he asked you out instead. He wishes that he told you he loves you that night. He wishes he kissed you. He wishes he held you and didn’t let go. He swallows, “You remember everything I said?” he asks, slightly surprised to hear that. Honestly, he doesn’t even remember what he said. Not anymore.

“Of course I do…I wanted nothing more than for it to be me.” you say quietly as you take a sip and sigh. “But like I said, water under the bridge.”

He feels tears begin to form. “Why did we have to grow apart? Why didn’t you just talk to me? Just one damn word. Something. I didn’t want to lose you.”

“I can’t be your friend.”

“Why not?”

You look at him for a long moment, just staying quiet. “...I’m only going to say this once…but if I stayed your friend, I would just keep hurting myself…I would still love you.”

He stays quiet for a while. Even the loud music and chatter from the people inside seemed to drown out as he looked at you; you’re all that matters; you’re all that deserves his attention. “...did it hurt when we would talk everyday?”

You sigh softly and shake your head. “Not until you started dating Yujin. Before that, everything was fine. But once she happened…it hurt like hell.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I told you. I couldn’t do that to you, you were happy.”

“I would have wanted to know. I would have wanted to be there for you…”

You laugh a little, “No, that’s weird.” You shake your head and still laugh a little, “It’s fine, I’m over it.”

“It’s not weird. It’s not okay for you to act like everything is fine.” he says, softly.

“Why are you trying to rehash this? There’s no point. Or do you like to hear about how I used to love you and it gives you some sort of ego boost or something?” you ask, not wanting to dive back into this…not again. He shakes his head, but he sighs. What is the point? You aren’t believing him and you’ve said it yourself…you’re over him. You stand up and his eyes follow you, “I’m gonna go find Sungchan. Later.” you say, not really meaning the ‘later’ part, but nonetheless, you walk away and all he can do is watch you leave…again.

He heads back into the party, wanting to find solace in getting batshit drunk or something, but he continues to torture himself by watching you dance with Sungchan. His eyes only focus on you, sure, he’s jealous and pissed off that you’re with Sungchan, but he only sees you. Sees how you move and he finds himself wishing you were dancing with him.

Sungchan pulls you closer, just whispering sweet nothings in your ear and you feel his hands grab your ass. You giggle a little and try to enjoy your time with him as he starts kissing your neck. You laugh softly as you dance with him and, unfortunately for Sunghoon, he’s bearing witness to it all. His hand practically crushes his red solo cup as fury ignites within him when he watches what Sungchan is doing. That should be him. Not that he would be so…vulgar with his actions, but it should still be him instead. He sees Sungchan whisper something to you as he takes your hand and starts taking you upstairs.

As he watched the two of you making your way upstairs, his whole body shook and trembled in rage. Every step that the two of you took together enraged him. He hated the way you casually held his hand and how he casually walked you up the stairs. He hated how he acted as if he had every right to touch you like that. He hated the fact that you were both so comfortable with one another at this point. He hated the fact that he was leading you away to his room…

You were so focused on following Sungchan, you were surprised to feel a tug on your other hand once you reached the top of the stairs. Both Sungchan and you stop and you turn to see Sunghoon holding your other hand.

Sunghoon felt at ease, like he was grounded when he felt your hand in his. This made him more confident as he tugged you towards him, wanting you away from Sungchan. This pisses Sungchan off and he scoffs as he looks at Sunghoon.

“The hell?” Sungchan says, not in the mood for any games. He tugs the hand he was holding, pulling you back towards him, but you find yourself only focused on Sunghoon as your heart starts to beat faster.

Sunghoon pulls you back towards him, his grip on your hand tightening. “Back off.” he says as he glares at Sungchan.

“You back off.” Sungchan says as he tugs you back towards him.

Sunghoon realized that you were just being tugged around, so he stopped, but he kept holding your hand. “Let go of her.”

“You let go of her.” He looks at you, “Who the hell is this guy?” Sungchan asks, annoyed.

“Someone who actually loves her instead of using her.”

You look at Sunghoon, surprised to hear him say that. Sure, he said he loved you earlier…but this time when he said it, he said it like it was what he meant to say; what he wanted to say.

Sungchan laughs. “You love her?”

Sunghoon glares at him. “Yes. I love her. Now back off.”

Sungchan scoffs and puts his arm around me. “Tell you what, bud, you can have her when I’m done.” Sungchan winks as he pulls me towards him.

Sunghoon feels enraged. This asshole was acting so entitled, acting like he won this argument when Sunghoon knew damn well he wasn’t giving up. The fact that he had the nerve to call him “bud” too made Sunghoon want to throw him down the flight of fucking stairs. How he treated you was disgusting, talking about you like that in front of you. Sunghoon tugged you towards him one last time and Sungchan rolled his eyes.

“Whatever.” Sungchan looks at you, “You know where my room is.” he says as he winks at you before walking away.

Sunghoon grimaces as Sungchan leaves, but feels better once he’s gone. The whole time, you were just looking at Sunghoon and you feel as though your heart is beating out of your chest as he holds your hand. After what he said. After all of this. He meets your gaze and he looks at you in a much more gentle manner.

“You deserve so much more…” he whispers, his breath lightly brushing along your face since you’re so close together. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry-”

“Stop.”

“No.” he says as he lets go of your hand and uses it instead to gently cup your face. “I wasn’t lying. You are all I’ve thought about for these past few months and you’re all I can ever think about. I’ve missed you every single damn second of the day and I’m sorry I was too scared to say it all before. I love you. And all this time, I’ve just thought about what you mean to me and the answer is everything; you mean everything to me. ...that seems like such a vague thing to say now that I say it out loud.” he chuckles softly, “But everything means nothing if you’re not with me. Eating, sleeping, breathing, blinking, are all pointless if I can’t spend one goddamn second with you. I’m not embarrassed of you and I only realized that night when you left that I’ve always been in love with you. Always. What I felt with Yujin is all meaningless when I compare it to how I feel about you. I love you. It was never her. Not for even a millisecond. You asked me if I would put myself through pain just to see her happy and I told you yes. I lied. I thought that was what I would do, but I realized I actually did that with you. I let you walk away because that’s what you wanted. I didn’t want that, god-” he takes a sharp inhale as he rests his forehead on yours, “It’s always been you…and I’m so sorry I never said it until now. I’m so sorry I put you through all of that shit. I’m so sorry, but please…” he whispers as he looks into your eyes, all of his focus only on you. “I love you.”

You feel your breath hitch slightly and you feel so tempted just to kiss him, but you hold yourself back. You smile a little bit and pull away slightly, feeling relieved. “...I need to smoke. You want one?” you ask as you take his hand, going into an empty bedroom.

He closes the door behind the two of you as you walk over and sit on the bed, opening the window beside it. He sits beside you as you take out your pack and he smiles a bit. “Yeah, I do.” he says as you hand him one. He watches as you light yours and then you light his for him. You both sit silently for a moment as you smoke, it being a comfortable silence until he speaks. “Thank you.” he says, mainly for lighting his cigarette, but he does want it to apply to you not leaving him again.

“I forgive you.” you say after a moment.

“You do?” he asks as he takes a drag and looks at you.

“Yeah.” you say as you take another drag yourself. “But you’ve got to get better at saying how you feel.” you tease.

He scoffs playfully and nudges your arm. “Says you.” he mumbles as he continues to smoke.

You laugh softly and shrug. “We’ll work on it.” you say before exhaling your smoke and he nods his head a bit as you both look out of the window for a moment. You glance at him and inhale from your cigarette before gently pulling him towards you. He turns his head to look at you and you kiss him gently, shotgunning the smoke slowly into his mouth.

His eyes widen a bit as his heart beats rapidly. He closes his eyes as he inhales, letting the smoke slowly fill his lungs while he leans forward to kiss you back, indulging in the feeling of your lips on his even if it wasn’t an actual kiss. After blowing out the smoke, you break the kiss and watch as he exhales the smoke. He does it slowly, feeling as though his lips are tingling, begging to meet yours again. He smirks a bit after he exhales all of the smoke and looks at you. “Damn…that was good.” he whispers as he blushes a bit.

You grin, taking another drag, “I’ve missed you.”

He takes a drag as well as smiles softly. “I’ve missed you, too.” It goes quiet, but this time, a comfortable silence as you two smoke. He blows some smoke out of the window and looks back at you. “Do you think…we could give this another shot?”

You follow suit and blow some smoke out of the window before looking at him. “Our friendship or…something more this time?”

“Something more. Both, hopefully.” he smirks a bit as he says this, taking another drag.

You smirk a little back and chuckle softly, “I really want that.”

“So do I.” he whispers as his eyes lock onto yours. He smiles softly, “We’re going to be official.”

He reaches for your hand and carefully interlaces his fingers with yours. You take another drag as you smile shyly. “Good…” you say, softly.

Your fingers seem to fit with his perfectly; everything about you is perfect and it was things like this that make him realize it all the more. You hold hands as you smoke silently, both feeling a fluttering excitement in your stomachs as your relationship dynamic shifts to one that you both have been longing for before you even realized it yourselves. He glances at you as he exhales some smoke.

“Good? Wow…I was expecting some more passion out of that.” he teases, gently squeezing your hand.

You laugh before finishing your cigarette and putting it out. You turn your body a bit to face him, “What about…fucking incredible?”

He laughs loudly at your new choice of phrasing. He calms down after a moment, “That’s more like it.” he says with a grin before smoking his cigarette again. His gaze lingers on you as he watches you smile at his reaction. Stunning. He leans in, letting go of your hand, placing his left hand beside you on the bed as his lips meet yours, kissing you.

You don’t waste a single second, kissing him back immediately as your hand makes its way to the back of his head, your fingers threading with his hair as you push yourself slightly forward, pressing your lips against his more. He inhales sharply as he moves his left arm around your waist, pulling you closer, desperately. He puts out his cigarette and discards it, using his other arm to wrap around you as well as he pulls you onto his lap. You part your legs, straddling his lap as you grin a bit into the kiss, both of your hands using their fingers to gently tug on the ends of his soft hair. You feel yourself fill with excitement, the fact that this is really happening after every inch of your body has desired this exact moment makes you feel restless.

Sunghoon runs his hands up and down your thighs, squeezing them gently, before moving them up to your hips, and then your waist. His hands suddenly felt so big against your skin, his fingers sending shivers throughout your whole body anywhere they touch. He opens his mouth slightly more and you take this as a sign to slip your tongue into it. He grins, this time, and he pulls you closer to him by gripping your waist; your bodies now pressed tightly against each other. He moves his hands to cup your face and you move yours to rest against his chest, your fingers tightly gripping his shirt in an attempt to somehow kiss him deeper. His tongue glides across yours as he kisses you with increasing desperation. The need for you grows every second that passes, he has to kiss every inch of you, he has to make you his, he has to make you feel loved; the only thoughts devouring his mind at this very moment consisted of nothing but you and his need to ensure you only ever want him.

The kiss becomes sloppy, both of your lips becoming covered in one another, and you feel yourself craving more. So much more. You bite his bottom lip a little, testing to see if this will make him decide to take initiative, resulting in him gasping softly and releasing a low moan. He liked it. He liked it a lot. He moves his hands back to your waist, pushing you down against his lap and his jaw loosens a bit as he loses his breath, feeling you finally press against his erection. You moan softly, enjoying the feeling of some sort of contact where you desperately needed it the most and it felt so good knowing he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. He couldn’t take it anymore, he had to have you.

One of his hands grips your thigh and his other arm goes back to wrapping around your waist as he picks you up a bit and lays you back against the bed, not once breaking the kiss; at this point, kissing you has become his oxygen supply. Feeling your hands on him is the only thing keeping him alive. His lips part from yours only to kiss along your jaw, just below your ear, and down to your neck. You gasp softly and your eyelids flutter closed as you relish in the feeling of his soft lips kissing your skin. He takes one of his hands and uses it to move some of your hair out of the way, placing it on the back of your head, pulling your hair softly to move your head back so he has more room to work with on your neck. You let out a soft moan, feeling him leave open mouthed kisses on every single inch of your skin, him making sure he doesn’t miss a single spot.

He opens his eyes a bit and looks at you, to see how he’s making you feel. He watches as your lips part slightly as you take in small gasps of air, as if he leaves you utterly breathless; you’ve never looked more beautiful. He watches to see what spot of your neck when he kisses it that you seem to like the most. Once he gets to a certain spot and watches you bite your bottom lip a bit, he smirks slightly against your skin and sucks gently on the area. His tongue laps the spot a bit as he sucks and nibbles on it; this was his spot now. You moan softly and you feel your breath slightly catch in your throat as he leaves a hickey. He leaves a few soft pecks on the spot a little after he’s left his mark and he smiles a bit to himself.

You feel the warmth of his body pull away from yours and your eyes open as you look at him. The moon shined a bit through the window, the light falling beautifully on him as he looked at you with a slightly flushed face. He looked back at you, seeing you laying on this bed, all for him, he felt like he was going crazy. He sits on his knees between his legs as his hands run along your thighs; he just keeps looking at you, admiring all of you. You lay there, looking at him, feeling your body become hot as he looks at you through hooded eyes, as if you leave him in a trance. Your breathing picks up in speed as he runs his hands painfully slow along your thighs and as much as you want to pull him back towards you, you feel as though you’re frozen.

He takes a slow, deep breath, as his left hand travels up to gently take your right hand. He holds it up softly, separating your fingers with his as he loosely holds your hand, his gaze now focusing on your hands. He raises your hand up and leans in, raising it to his mouth. He softly plants his lips on your fingertips, kissing them softly, up to your knuckles, trailing his lips to the back of your hand, then gently turning it to kiss along the palm of your hand. He closes his eyes as he kisses down your arm--slowly--and gently lays your arm back at your side as he kisses up to your shoulder. His hands move to the hem of your short dress, slowly sliding it up, you raising your hips to help him, and he stops, leaving it bunched around your waist as he goes back to kissing along your shoulder. He gently pushes the strap of your dress down your shoulder as he focuses on kissing your body, moving along your collarbone. He breathes deeply, pushing the other strap out of the way as he leaves open mouthed kisses on your left shoulder, down your arm, his hands gently holding it up as he kisses up to your wrist. You watch him, feeling as if your body is constantly shivering, still dressed (albeit, your dress is pushed up), yet feeling completely exposed. His hand envelopes over your left hand as he kisses your palm like he cherishes your entire being, the way he looks is as if he’s wanted to do this his whole life.

He kisses your fingers, knuckles, and fingertips, opening his eyes slowly as he lets go of your arm gently. He moves his hands back to your waist, pulling your dress up more and you sit up, realizing your body is shaking, and he kisses your forehead before pulling your dress off carefully, like he’s afraid if he does it too fast, you’ll break. He lets the dress fall to the ground, the fabric hitting the hard wood floor just as softly as he lets it go. It’s as if the room is silent, no muffled music from downstairs, no rolling of tires from the occasional cars passing on the streets, no soft wind hitting the curtains, nothing except the quiet breaths escaping from his and your lips. He feels his erection become even more painfully hard as he looks at you, and he swallows, honestly trying not to let out a moan just at the sight of you. His breath stifles a little as he places his hand on the small of your back, steadying you as he leans back in, kissing the top of your chest. He feels himself growing more desperate, desperate to feel every inch of your skin on his lips, on his fingertips.

He breathes in sharply as he presses his face more into your chest, his lips sloppily kissing along your chest as his need for you grows. His tongue trails along your skin and he shudders, his hands becoming shaky as he holds your waist, all his focus practically on making out with your chest. A low moan elicits from him and from the way he was kissing your chest with such desperation made you moan softly in response, one of your bra straps falling a little off your shoulder from his movements. It’s as if he senses it and just decides to unclasp your bra, still trying to let it slide off of you slowly and hold himself back, but once he sees you take it off, your bare chest exposed, he feels himself get so close to cumming in his pants. He gently lays you back on the bed, wasting no time, however, to wrap his lips around one of your nipples. Your breath hitches and you moan as he releases his desperation. Kissing, sucking, and fondling your breasts, small whimpers coming from him as he feels elated to finally be doing this. Spit covers your chest almost instantly as he licks and sucks, kneading your breasts, moaning as the soft flesh squeezes and molds beneath his hands. And it’s only until he feels his breathing becoming quick, his dick aching in his pants, is when he stops. He pulls away slightly, his hair slightly covering his eyes as he stares at them, his trembling fingers squeezing and spreading his spit along them, his thumbs pressing and circling your nipples, and you feel as if ripples just went throughout your entire body.

You gently push his hair away from his face and he goes back to kissing along your stomach, down to your panties. You can feel momentarily the thin layer of sweat covering his forehead when you push his hair away, running your fingers through his locks and he whines softly against your skin, his hands gripping your sides and finally moving to the edge of your panties. You wait in anticipation, expecting him to take them off, so you raise your hips slightly, but he pulls away. You pout–only slightly–as you look at him with a confused expression. He smiles sweetly, as if he’s not the one that caused you to quite literally soak through your panties. He’s noticed, god, he’s noticed, but it takes everything in him not to behave like some animal. So, with that, he moves his hands down to your feet, slowly taking off your shoes for you before setting them on the ground. He moves back a little, leaning down to kiss along your leg, stopping at your knee, before moving to do the same thing to the other leg, but this time, he kisses up your thigh, leaving open mouthed kisses on the inner part of your thigh, gently nipping at your skin, and up to your hip. He gazes at you through his eyelashes as he moves to kiss along the other thigh, closing his eyes as he moans deeply against your skin, his tongue running along your skin.

He takes in a shaky, deep breath, and you feel your whole body become stiff once you feel his warm breath scatter so deliciously on your core. He gently places his hand over your sopping panties and your breath hitches, your whole body feeling grateful for some sort of contact. His brows furrowed as he slowly rubs his middle finger along your clothed slit, a low groan escaping his lips as he feels even more of your wetness seep through the fabric as he pushes into it. His mind feels hazy; he has to taste you. He takes his hand away, licking his middle finger and he feels as if his whole body exploded. He moans quietly to himself, before gripping your thighs and sticking his tongue out, licking a slow, long stripe between your clothed folds to your clit. Your eyes roll back as you gasp and moan. His fingers dig into the skin of your thighs as he feels himself lose all sense of sanity. He wanted nothing more than to take his time, but fuck, he can’t do it anymore.

His lips instantly latch around your clothed clit, sucking and lapping his tongue as he starts to subconsciously rut his hips against the mattress. His saliva soaks your panties entirely as he presses his tongue more firmly, causing you to moan louder, gasping, as your hand makes its way to his hair, your fingers tangling in it. He moans and pulls away only a little before diving back in, pushing your panties to the side with his face as he makes out between your folds. His jaw is working overtime, his tongue lapping and picking up as much of you as you can give, His nose bumps against your clit as he loses himself in your taste, eating you out like a madman. He groans and moans into you, his hip movements stuttering as he licks all the way back up to your clit, moving his right hand off of your thigh before pushing his middle and ring finger into you, making sure to rub them between your folds before he does. He sucks and licks your clit, moaning and whimpering as he pushes his fingers in and out of you, not stopping until his knuckles prevent him.

You moan his name, gripping his hair, pushing his face against your clit more as your legs shake and you cum, moaning his name. He whimpers and the way you taste sends him over the edge as he feels himself cum in his pants, his jaw falling slack a bit, and he pulls his fingers out, desperate to lick them clean. You let go of his hair, trying to catch your breath and he sits up, his face slick and covered in you, and he tugs your panties off. You look at him, watching as he undresses himself and you feel your body become light as he reveals more and more of himself to you. His bare chest, his abs, god, his biceps, you were about ready to start touching yourself at the sight, desperate for him, but you managed to stay put.

He feels his ego boost a little bit, watching how you look at him, examining his body as if he is some work of art. He’s going to give you everything he knows you deserve and that thought alone makes him smirk. You notice as he takes off his underwear the wet patch from his prior release, making you grin a bit. He finally lets his cock out, it still being painfully hard despite him having cummed already, and you gaze at it. You feel yourself clench around nothing, wanting him so desperately to fill you up and he sees it. He smiles innocently, as if you both aren’t completely naked and horny before he grabs a cigarette and lights it. He takes a drag as he spreads the precum spilling from his tip all along his length and you watch his every movement, honestly feeling your mouth water at the sight. You sit up and he motions his head to the window as the cigarette sits between his lips.

You turn and face the window, propping your forearms against the windowsill as you look outside, the cool breeze honestly feeling nice against your flushed, hot skin. You feel his presence shift behind you as he takes another drag. He sighs softly, looking at yourself propped like this, he places his free hand on your hip, lining himself up with you. He moves that hand and gently brushes your hair softly to the side, exposing your back entirely, and you turn your head a bit to look back at him. He exhales some smoke and meets your gaze, gently brushing his fingers along your cheek.

“Relax…” he says before leaning to whisper in your ear, “and don’t be afraid to let the neighborhood know my name.” he says before kissing your cheek.

You feel your body shudder at his words and he holds the cigarette between his lips as he uses one hand to hold your hip, the other gripping his cock before he slides it up and down, teasingly, between your folds. You gasp softly and he smirks, pushing his tip against your clit and he hisses a little, more precum leaking from his tip. He guides his cock into you, needing to quickly grab his cigarette from his mouth due to his jaw falling slack as he bottoms out into you. Your fingers grip the edge of the windowsill, your jaw dropping as you feel him finally giving you what you want. You moan and become breathless. He takes another drag from his cigarette before moving his hand from your hip to your shoulder as he pulls his hips away and then thrusts himself back into you entirely.

He filled you up perfectly, and he was damn ready to cum just from the way it felt like you perfectly felt around him. So warm and so fucking wet. He thrusts in and out of you a few times, groaning as you moan, sounds of you coating his cock more and more each time he goes in and out of you. He takes a shaky inhale from his cigarette, his eyes rolling back a bit as he thrusts a bit faster, before taking the cigarette out of his mouth, gripping the back of your head, a handful of your hair between his fingers, as he pulls you up and turns your head towards him. You moan and whine looking at him as he kisses you, shotgunning you this time as he keeps a steady pace of thrusting into you. You felt like you were going to choke, but you inhale what he exhales and as he pulls away, you turn back and lean your forearms against the windowsill as you blow out the smoke, gasping afterwards and moaning his name.

“Good girl,” he groans and puts the cigarette out, putting both of his hands on your hips, thrusting faster. “Such a good girl.”

You moan at his praise and breathe quickly as all you can do is let out strings of long moans as you feel his cock press into you over and over, him somehow hitting every area that makes your knees weak and mind hazy. His fingers dig into your skin as his hips rapidly pound and slap against your ass, the sound of skin slapping becoming louder and louder. You moan his name loudly, and as a reward, he pushes further, you feeling his tip brush against your cervix and you gasp, moaning his name lewdly. He grunts, the way you just moaned his name almost made him cum automatically.

“Louder, sweetheart, come on.”

You gasp for air as he fucks you so goddamn good, and you try to arch your lower back a bit so he can go deeper. You moan his name as many times as he wants, whatever it takes for him to rut in and out of you faster, to which he obliged. His breathing becomes heavy and your legs shake as you throw your head back a bit, your jaw dropping as you let out a long moan, cum spreading all over his cock. He grunts and whimpers, wrapping his arms around your waist as his brows knit together, him leaning down and kissing your shoulder as he pumps you full of cum, a low moan coming from him and onto your shoulder. He moans your name softly as he lets out a few more shallow thrusts, making sure he gives you every last drop. You feel yourself shiver as the warm liquid pushes into you and you whine a little.

After a moment of him holding you close and staying inside of you, he kisses your shoulder softly again before pulling out and pulling away. He lays back onto the bed and you shudder as you feel his and your cum spilling out of you and trailing slowly down your inner thigh. He opens his arms a bit and you go to him, letting out a sigh as you rest your head on his chest and feeling content when his arms wrap around you. His hand slowly moves up and down your back before he kisses the top of your head. It’s silent for a while as you both lay there.

“So…we’re a thing now?” you ask, partly joking, but part of you was seriously asking.

He looks down at you and scoffs playfully. “After all of this, you still don’t get it?” he chuckles softly. “I want nobody but you.”

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sluttywoozi · 3 months

Text

Adore You Part IV | kmg x f!reader

I'd walk through fire for you, Just let me adore you

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~7.7k | Pairing: kmg x f!reader | Genre: romance, smut

Life has changed a lot in the past two and a half years, and it's about to change even more, but Mingyu knows he can do anything with his CEO by his side.

Warnings: shower sex, fingering, oral f. rec., piv sex, slight impreg kink, creampie, aftercare, talk of food/eating/diet changes, talk of babies and pregnancy, they are trying to have a baby and i wanted it to be a surprise but i had to warn yall so just pretend you didn’t know, they’re so in love, crying so much crying, mingyu is good at everything so he’s a carpenter too, feat. seokmin as the replacement assistant (mingyu has one sided beef w him)

Reader Notes: she/her pronouns, has vagina and breasts, can get pregnant, still a boss bitch, gets carried by mingyu, same age as mingyu for one line only so you can pretend otherwise if you so desire

Mingyu wakes to early morning sunlight warming his exposed skin. The duvet has been kicked to the end of the bed, the sheets tangled up between your legs and his. He’s not cold so he knows you aren’t either, not with his chest flush to your back and his arms wrapped around you. He assumes one of you must have gotten too hot, hence the discarded duvet, and reaches down to pull at the sheet, knowing you still like to be covered up even when you’re warm.

You stir at his movements, your legs shifting as a soft hum escapes you, and he freezes, holding his breath until he’s sure you’re still sleeping. You need as much rest as you can get, though Mingyu does love the mornings where you both wake up early and chat until it’s time for you to get ready for work.

This won’t be one of them, as there’s only twenty minutes left before you need to wake up, but Mingyu is alright with that. It means he has some extra time to think, to relax, to soak you in. You’re only apart for nine hours a day, but he misses you in those nine hours, misses your soothing presence and your smart comments and your sweet kisses.

He fills that time with working out, cooking, cleaning, running errands, and working on various projects around the apartment. You own the unit, so he’s free to paint and put holes in the walls, and almost every week, he has something new to show you.

It doesn’t make him miss you any less but it does make the time without you go faster, and whenever he starts to feel down about not being your assistant anymore, he reminds himself he’d rather be your 5 PM to 9 AM than your 9 AM to 5 PM. That always helps, knowing he’s the home you come back to.

It doesn’t remove the sour taste he gets in his mouth when he starts thinking about his replacement, though. Seokmin isn’t the worst, but he’s not the best (not like Mingyu is), and it doesn’t help that Mingyu always feels as if Seokmin resents him for his place in your life. He’s not sure if Seokmin is jealous, or if he thinks Mingyu is a distraction, or maybe he even feels like he’ll never be able to fill Mingyu’s shoes.

Mingyu is taller, and his feet are bigger, and he was a better personal assistant, but it’s been two years since he resigned and he’s not giving up this life for anything. Not when it means he gets to be with you like this, gets to wake up with your body aligned with his, gets to spend his days working to make the life you share even better, gets to welcome you home with open arms and a hot meal and a mouth begging for a kiss.

This is what Mingyu dreamed of but never believed he could have, and nothing in this world could tear him apart from you.

Nothing except for your alarm, at least.

He feels more than hears you groan as your phone vibrates on your nightstand, the incessant buzzing loud against the stark quiet of the bedroom. You reach out and feel around blindly, your eyes still likely closed, until you locate the obtrusive device, pulling it toward you and tapping until the noise stops.

You sigh and burrow deeper into his chest, and Mingyu feels his heart swell so big, he swears it’s about to burst out of his ribcage. He holds you tighter, pressing a kiss to the back of your head, and contemplates begging you to take a sick day. You could just stay in bed with him, waste the sunlight talking and kissing and making love until your stomachs remind you that sustenance is required.

You start to shift out of his arms before he can open his mouth to ask, your work ethic and indomitable need to get shit done preventing you from having a lay in. He holds back the pout and releases you, hugging the sheet to his chest when your warmth leaves him and watching as you start to amble toward the bathroom to get ready.

You stop like you’ve forgotten something, and Mingyu supposes you have because you turn around and come back, setting one knee on the bed and leaning over him.

“Morning,” you whisper before pressing your lips to his, the both of you far past caring about stale breath. He kisses you back, cupping your cheek to hold you to him, moaning petulantly when you pull away.

“I have to go take a shower,” you murmur apologetically, smooching him what you think is one last time before climbing off the bed. He reaches out, catches your hand, and asks, “Can I come with you? I could drive you to work today.”

You bite your lip, considering it, and check your watch to see if you have enough time. You usually use public transport but if he takes you, you wouldn’t need the twenty minute cushion you normally give yourself just in case of breakdowns or traffic. He’ll also get to hold your hand in the car and sing you love songs, which he always adores doing.

“Okay, but we can’t get too distracted. I’ll set another alarm,” you concede, tugging him by the hand you hold. He grins triumphantly, sitting up and scooching to the edge of the bed before standing and raising his arms in a deep stretch. One of them only goes so far, still attached to you, but the other reaches high above his head, his spine popping and cracking as it elongates.

You make a face at the sounds and he just chuckles softly, “Hey, you have to love every part of me, even my height induced back issues.”

Rolling your eyes, you pull him toward the en suite, replying, “I do love every part of you, old man, even your height induced back issues.”

“Baby, we’re the same age!”

You don’t respond but he sees your head shake and imagines the fond smile you must be wearing, squeezing your hand and waiting for a squeeze back. It comes before you let him go completely to turn on the shower and start undressing, your pajama tank going first.

You’re wearing nothing under it and Mingyu is entranced instantly, too distracted watching your breasts move as you push your shorts down to take his own clothes off. He’s only got boxers on anyway, though they’re slowly becoming tented the longer he stares at you.

Used to his open admiration by now, you just toss your clothes in the hamper and step into the shower, kindly leaving the door open for him even though all the built up steam is escaping. The absence of you shakes him from his stupor, and distractedly, he slides down his boxers, letting out a quiet hiss at the feeling of the warm, damp air on his hardening cock.

He takes a step closer, then another, until he’s standing just outside the shower, his eyes caught on your form as water glides over your curves. You’re washing your body, suds drifting along your tits and down your stomach, and Mingyu is so, so gone for you.

“Any day now, honey,” you call, glancing towards him and jumping, likely not expecting him to be standing there just staring at you. He steps over the ledge, feeling the change in air temperature immediately, and crowds in close to you, his form blocking most of the water.

“Can I make you cum? Please?” He asks raggedly, needing to feel you on his fingers, his tongue, his dick, anything.

“I don’t know if we have enough time,” you say as you take a step back from him, your hands on his chest and your eyes reluctant.

“I can be quick,” he promises, though he’s not actually sure he can. Yes, he’s got giving you pleasure down to a science by now, but there’s something about this morning that makes him want to linger.

You think for a second, before deciding potentially being late is worth it and saying, “Okay, but just once.”

That might be a bit difficult too, but he’ll do his best to respect your wishes, no matter how much he loves making you fall apart over and over again. He nods solemnly and starts walking forward, his hands latching onto your hips as he presses you up against the heated shower wall. Sinking to his knees, he takes hold of one of your thighs, pulling it up to rest on his shoulder before deciding he needs more room and pushing it up and to the side.

He can make you cum with one hand anyway, and he likes having you all spread out for him like this, likes the way the lips of your pussy part to show your folds, your clit shrouded in its hood and your entrance already shining with arousal.

He doesn’t waste any time, knows it’s precious, licking into you just to spread your wetness before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking, groaning at your taste. The fingers of his free hand glide up your inner thigh, pinching and rubbing and digging into your flesh before they reach your weeping cunt.

He sinks in one first, pumping it in and out, curling on every other stroke as his tongue taps at your clit, his lips still pursed tight around it. You shiver above him and let one hand fall to his head, your fingers delving into his wet hair when he adds another, crooking them towards your belly and feeling for that erogenous patch inside of you.

You sigh his name when he finds it, a long, drawn out sound that makes his heart race and his dick twitch, and he thanks you with a hard pulse of his lips and a grind of his fingertips. That makes you buck into his face, starting a seemingly endless loop of him groaning around your clit and you fucking yourself on his fingers.

He feels like he’s touching heaven, like he’s carving a masterpiece out of immaculate marble, like he’s dipping his fingers into the pools of Elysium every single time he gets his hands on you, and that’s something he knows will never change.

Something else that will never change is how much he loves to make you cum, though he prefers to take his time and give you as many as you can handle. But you said once, and Mingyu is nothing if not a good listener.

He’ll just have to make this one really count, make it good enough to last you both the whole day, or at least the next nine hours.

So he doubles his efforts, sucking at your clit deeply enough that his cheeks hollow and hooking his fingertips into your g-spot before grinding into it roughly, jerking his hand back and forth until your fingers clench in his hair and your cries ring in his ears.

He helps you ride it out, fighting back a grin at the way your hips move with him and fighting back a frown when you pant, “I have to… I have to get ready for work now.”

He supposes this is what he gets for marrying a CEO.

Mingyu is halfway home when he realizes you forgot to take your lunch.

He contemplates grabbing it and bringing it to you immediately, but decides he’ll bring it for your lunch hour instead, hoping he can stay and chat with you.

When he gets back to the apartment, he sets to work, going straight to the spare bedroom he’s made into a work room. He keeps it relatively organized - paints and tools on one wall, plans pinned to the corkboard on the other - even though he’s the only one who ever sees it.

You tend to stay out, not because he’s asked you to, but because you want him to have his own space, especially since he moved in with you. He had to give up some things he loved, like his favorite pizza place that doesn’t deliver to this part of town, and the corner store he bought all of his car magazines from, and, worst of all, lovely interactions with his neighbor’s dog, Belle.

He hardly misses any of it, now that he’s established this life with you.

It hasn’t been long since you got married, just under eleven months, but ever since you slid that ring onto his finger, Mingyu has known that this is what he was made for. He was made to be your husband, to take care of you, to make you happy, to keep you safe. He was made to love you, and fuck, he does.

More than he ever thought possible, to be honest.

He doesn’t know how he made it six whole months as your executive assistant after that day in your office, and he really doesn’t know how you both managed to hide the relationship for so long. Sure, it didn’t start as a relationship, but it evolved into one pretty quickly, and he remembers just how difficult it was to keep from kissing you every single time you called him in.

When you realized how serious things had become, he knew things would have to change. He couldn’t keep working for you if he wanted to marry you too, so as soon as you told him that was something that’s been on your mind, he tendered his letter of resignation and ended his lease.

He moved in with you two weeks later, on his last day, and ended that night by getting down on one knee. You cried, much to his surprise, and darted to your bedroom without a word, returning before he’d even gotten over the shock of you leaving. You kneeled with him, and held out your hand. He was about to offer you his when he noticed the gold band resting in the middle of your palm, which made him sob even harder than you.

The wedding was planned in just under a year, a quiet affair with only your family, friends, and favorite employees/coworkers invited. You were promoted a few months later, when the CEO finally recognized your talent and retired, and now, almost eleven months after he got to marry you, you’re trying for a baby too.

That’s why it’s so important that he gets your lunch to you. Ever since you said you were ready, he’s been feeding you only the best foods for fertility: dark, leafy greens and legumes for folate, lean meats and eggs for B12, low-mercury fish and chia seeds for omega-3s. You’ve adapted to his new menu rather well, and it helps that he’s able to work these foods into recipes you already love.

Today is grilled chicken and garlic roasted kale salad, one of your favorites, and he almost can’t believe you both forgot to grab it before you left. He says almost because he may have spent the time before he drove you to work pestering you for kisses, which led to a makeout session against the door of your apartment. The orgasm and kissing ate up your extra twenty minutes, so you were rushing him out the door, insisting you couldn’t be late.

He knows from experience that it’s not the end of the world if you are, but he also knows that punctuality is paramount to you, especially now that you’re practically running the place. So out the door the both of you went, no lunch bag in sight or in mind.

He stops working long enough to check the time, noting that he has about half an hour before he has to leave for your office. His hands are dirty with wood stain and he has no less than four splinters, but he’s proud of the work he’s done so far. It’s finally coming together, this little project, and he can’t wait to finish and present it to you.

First, he needs to shower again. He’s grown sweaty and stinky in the hours he’s been working, and while he mainly wants to present a nice image as your husband, he also knows he’d get Seokmin’s judgy eyes if he showed up like this.

He rinses off quickly, doing his best not to let his mind wander to what he did to you right here this very morning, before getting dressed and heading to the kitchen. Packing your lunch is easy with the food already cooked, all he has to do is put the glassware in your lunch bag. He skips the little note he usually leaves you, happy to deliver his words of love in person instead, and grabs his keys off the hook by the front door.

The drive to your office is fast and uneventful, only about ten minutes away from the apartment, and Mingyu spends it thinking about potential baby names. He knows what’s at the top of his list and what’s at the top of yours, but he’s not sure you’ll be able to choose one until you actually meet your baby.

Your baby that doesn’t exist yet, Mingyu reminds himself, feeling his heart start to ache when he thinks about how long it could be before you get pregnant.

You’ve only been trying for two months and it could be literal years, or even never, and he’ll just have to be okay with whatever happens. There’s always surrogacy or adoption, too, though he knows you want the experience of growing and carrying your child.

He wants to experience that with you, wants to take you to all of your appointments and buy too many parenting books and sing to your belly every night before bed. But things don’t always work out how you want them to, and Mingyu knows that very well.

His mood is a little dampened when he arrives at your office, though the thought of seeing you brightens him up again. He practically floats through security, the employees recognizing him and letting him pass without much fanfare, before taking the elevator up to the top floor, where your office is now located.

He’s a bit sad you no longer occupy the space you first met in, but he’s also ridiculously proud that you have one of the executive offices. They’re spacious and have automatic doors, wall to wall windows, incredible views of the city skyline, and, best of all, they require special access.

That means not just anyone can get in, which makes Mingyu feel better about leaving you in the hands of Seokmin. The man is putting on muscle, is no longer the scrawny guy he was when he started, but Mingyu is still bigger than him and would have better luck fighting off intruders. He doesn’t anticipate there being any, but ever since you got married, he’s been even more protective over you.

He can’t imagine how he’ll be when you get pregnant, and he can only hope he’ll maintain some sense of normalcy and decorum. It helps that he trusts you to tell him if he grows too overbearing, knows you won’t stand for him doing everything for you, no matter how much he wants to.

You’ll at least let him keep making you all your meals, and he knows that for a fact, as well as he knows that he has to be nice to Seokmin or he’ll surely hear about it later.

It’s difficult to keep the frown off his face when Seokmin tells him you’re working through your lunch hour, though.

“Yeah, sorry, she’s fully booked today. One of the deals started to fall through this morning and she’s had a lot of fires to put out.”

Seokmin sounds remorseful at least, but it doesn’t make him feel any better about the stress you’re under.

“Can I at least bring her her lunch?”

“You can leave it and I’ll take it to her,” Seokmin offers without looking up, his eyes set on his computer and his glasses reflecting the screen.

“No.”

Mingyu doesn’t mean to sound so firm, but he doesn’t trust Seokmin to get it to you in a timely manner, and you need to eat regularly to keep your nutrition up. His tone makes Seokmin’s eyes snap up to meet his, and he can’t say he doesn’t stand a little taller and square his shoulders when he sees the slight tinge of fear in his gaze.

“I’ll bring it to her, please call and let her know I’ll be coming in,” he tries to keep his voice measured this time, adds a please even though it’s not a request, and smiles when Seokmin picks up the phone and says, “Mrs. Kim, your husband is here with your lunch.”

He doesn’t hear how you respond but he does hear the buzz that means the door is opening, and he thanks Seokmin with a tight smile and a nod before walking into your office. His smile turns genuine, a full grin elicited by the look of relief and affection you send him as soon as he appears.

“God, I'm so hungry. Thank you for bringing me my lunch, honey,” you beam gratefully, and Mingyu prays Seokmin hears you as the door closes with a click.

“Of course, baby, you know I could never let you starve,” he ambles over to your desk, handing over your lunch bag and watching attentively as you open it. The meal should be no surprise to you as you were home when he made it, but you still gasp and coo, “My favorite.”

He just grins and asks, “Can I sit or do you have to keep working? I know it’s been a busy day.”

You hum in contemplation, glancing over all of the papers on your desk before deciding, “The company won’t go up in flames if I take a little break.”

So you don’t have to work through lunch, Mingyu thinks smugly as he settles into one of the chairs that sits opposite your desk. He’ll eat later so he talks to you while you dig in, relaying what he’ll be making for dinner and what he proposes you do with your evening - salmon and asparagus with chimichurri, then a movie and a cuddle, then on to the babymaking.

You’re on board with it all, your eyes flashing with heat when he mentions the last part, and as you eat and chat, he does his absolute best to pretend he doesn’t wish you could get to it right now. Unfortunately, when you started dating, you instituted a strict, ‘No fucking at the office,’ rule, and he believes it stands to this day.

When you’ve finished your food, you primly put the lids back on the containers and load them into your lunch bag, which he happily reaches out to take. He loves seeing you enjoy the dishes he makes for you, and he especially loves finding the glassware empty when he unpacks the bag to load the dishwasher.

He knows it’s time for him to leave now, but just like this morning, he wants to linger.

He won’t make you ask him to leave though, being perfectly aware of all the work you have left to do and knowing you can’t do it with him in the room, so he stands and says, “I should get going.”

You sigh and nod, pushing up out of your chair and walking around your desk to escort him to the door. Before he leaves, he leans in for a kiss, pouring all of his love and desire and affection into it and hoping you can feel every emotion. It’s clear you do when you pull away, your eyes reluctant and your lips quirked in a soft smile.

“Bye, honey. I love you, drive safe,” you whisper, petting his chest and taking a step back, as if you’ll kiss him again if you don’t.

“I love you too, baby. I will,” he murmurs, stealing one last peck to tide him over until you come home to him.

Dinner goes smoothly - you love the combination of salmon and chimichurri - and Mingyu has just settled into the couch with you in his arms when it hits him.

“Baby… Weren’t you supposed to get your period last week?”

You freeze against his chest, slowly looking up to find his eyes and breathing, “Oh my god, yeah. I got so used to not having one with the IUD that I didn’t even notice.”

“Should you- I mean, do we have any- Do I need to go get pregnancy tests?” He asks, almost scared to be hopeful.

You press your lips together and look away before returning your gaze to him and saying sheepishly, “I may have already bought a bunch and hidden them in the closet.”

“Perfect, that’s perfect! Do you need to pee? Should you drink more water?” He exclaims with excitement, pulling away from you and taking your hand before rising from the couch.

“Um, no, I’ve had enough water,” you assure him, standing when he starts to tug at your hand.

“Let’s go, then!” He tries to pull you to the bedroom, but you don’t budge. He glances at you over his shoulder, turning completely when he sees the nerve ridden look on your face. Your hand feels a bit clammy in his and your eyes seem shuttered, almost like you don’t want him to see the thoughts behind them.

“What’s wrong?”

He thought you’d be as excited as him to take the test, and now that you’re dragging your feet, he’s confused.

“I just… It could be negative, even with my period being late, and I don’t want to get your hopes up and then have you be disappointed,” you say gently, your eyebrows knitted together and your gaze avoiding his.

“Baby, I know it could be negative. But it could also be positive, and that’s enough for me. And even if I am disappointed, it’s not like I’ll be disappointed in you, or like we can’t keep trying,” he wiggles his eyebrows and wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to him and leaning in for a kiss.

You grant it without pause, your lips soft against his and your fingers clenching in his shirt. He pulls away and presses his forehead to yours, breathing, “I love you, no matter what, okay?”

“Okay,” you sigh, sounding much more relaxed. “Let’s go take that test. And I love you too.”

With that, he guides you to the main bedroom, stopping by the closet so you can grab a box from your stash. The anticipation has his heart racing as he waits in the bathroom with your hand in his, a timer for three minutes counting down on his phone.

The test lay on a tissue on the center of the counter, currently blank but containing the capacity to change your shared life. You’re both turned away from it, wanting to read the results when you’re sure you’re ready. He swears it’s the longest three minutes of his life, all one hundred and eighty seconds spent in tense, hopeful silence, until the timer hits zero and his phone goes off.

“Do you want to check or should I?” He whispers, squeezing your hand and brushing his thumb over the back to soothe you.

“How about we look together? We can both close our eyes, I’ll grab the test, and then we’ll open them at the same time?”

He nods, nerves at an all time high, and lets his eyelids flutter shut as you do the same. He can hear you patting around for the test, huffs out a humorous breath at the sound of triumph that escapes when you finally find it, and tries to pretend he doesn’t feel like he might die as he waits.

“One, two, three.”

Your eyes go to the test when you open them, but his are stuck on your face, knowing your expression will tell him whether or not it’s negative. He watches the emotions flicker through you, shock appearing first, then incandescent happiness, and when your gaze flies up to meet his, all he sees is pure joy and luminous love.

So what else can he do but burst into tears?

“It’s positive?” He gasps through shuddering sobs, trying to look down at the test to confirm but finding himself unable to see through all of the saltwater in his eyes.

“Yes, Mingyu, it’s positive. We’re having a baby,” you say with a watery beam, setting the test down and reaching out to cup his face and swipe your thumbs under his eyes.

He holds your hands to his cheeks, leans back against the counter for stability when his knees feel like they might give out, and weeps freely. He’s always been open about how much he wanted this with you, wanted to build a life and a family and a home, and now that it’s happening, he almost can’t believe it.

You let him cry, stepping between his spread legs and pulling your hands out from under his to twine your arms around his neck, hugging him tight and hugging him close. He wraps his arms around your waist in a vise-like grip, his tears soaking into the cotton on your shoulder as he whispers, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“It’s not like I could have done it without you, honey,” you remind him, making him laugh and turn his head to kiss your neck. He keeps his lips pressed there for a minute as his tears finally dry up, before pulling back and looking around for the test.

He finds it quickly, his eyes bulging out of his head at the two lines and little digital screen reading ‘pregnant’ as if he didn’t just bawl his heart out about it. Seeing the test makes it real, fills his head with images of you caressing your slowly growing belly, of him reading and singing to your bump, of taking you shopping for maternity business clothes because he knows you won’t let your style suffer for even one day.

He’s excited for all of it, and suddenly, he can’t stand still. There’s just too much to do, too much to buy and build and organize, and thank goodness he’s making good headway on his big project. Creating a safe, secure crib from scratch isn’t easy or quick, but luckily, he should have about nine months left to finish.

“Mingyu, you’re vibrating,” you chuckle, still pressed up against his chest, your fingers playing with his hair and your heart thumping next to his. He squeezes his arms around you and rocks you side to side one, two, three times, before letting go and sliding out from between you and the counter.

“Of course I am, we’re having a baby! Oh, I’m gonna make so many lists,” he grins eagerly, bouncing on his toes and devising titles in his mind.

“I’ll get you a special notebook just for them,” you promise, returning his smile and taking his hand to lead him from the bathroom. “For now, why don’t we relax while we still can?”

Mingyu doesn’t know if he’s capable of relaxing right now, but he’ll try for you. He can go over all the logistics in his mind as the movie plays, and when he settles back into the couch with you in his arms once again, he feels like he’s exactly where he’s meant to be.

Mingyu blinks awake to find the TV on screensaver mode and you asleep, still tucked into his chest. The living room is dark, only the light from the kitchen and what filters in through the windows illuminating the room. He checks his watch blearily, doing his best not to disturb you, and sighs in relief when he sees it’s only eleven PM.

As he carefully unravels his arms from around you and climbs off the couch over your dozing form, he can’t help but let his adoration for you swallow him whole. You took a chance on him almost two and a half years ago, and at the time, he thought the best he could hope for was getting to make you feel good. Now, he’s married to you with a child on the way, and he’s never felt more in love in his life.

There will be changes, for sure, in your relationship, in your household, in your lives, but he’s ready for anything as long as you’re by his side.

Or in his arms, he thinks as he leans down to slide them under your shoulders and knees, hefting you up against his chest and turning to lumber toward the bedroom. Your breathing changes and he looks down, finding your half-asleep eyes on him and a cute little smile curving your lips.

“You’re gonna be such a good dad,” you whisper, clenching your fingers in his shirt and pressing a kiss to his shoulder. He tries to act like that didn’t just cleave his heart in two and says, “You’ll be an even better mom.”

You just keep smiling at him, your eyes growing more and more awake with every step. Soon enough, he’s bending down to gently lay you on your side of the bed, relieved that you washed up as soon as you got home. He expects you to release his shirt, but you don’t, holding on to him and pulling insistently until he’s hovering above you, one knee on the bed and his hands braced on either side of your head.

“What is it, baby?”

“I just want a kiss,” you murmur, your gaze darting between his eyes and his lips. He feels them curl at the corners before he leans in and presses them to yours, intending to keep it chaste. You don’t have the same intentions, it seems, because you nip at his bottom lip and soothe the sting with your tongue.

He lets out a breath against your mouth that sounds suspiciously like a moan, his body dropping closer to yours until he can feel your warmth radiating into him. You take advantage immediately, throwing one arm around his neck and gripping his hip with the other, pulling until he acquiesces and lets himself fall into the temptation of your body.

You hitch your legs up on his waist, your tongue sliding into his mouth and your fingers sinking into his hair as he shudders above you. He pulls away, somehow, to mumble, “Thought you just wanted a kiss.”

“Maybe I want more,” you sigh softly. “Maybe I need more.”

“Well, I have to give my wife what she needs, don’t I?” He responds in the same hushed tone before sitting up between your legs to haul his shirt off.

He’s starting to feel warm, desire heating his blood and making his cock stir, and when he lays himself out on top of you and kisses you again, he’s sure you can feel his length throbbing against you. It’s thickening slowly, hardening more the longer your lips are locked with his, the longer he thinks about being inside of you, about part of him growing within you.

It’s heady, that thought, but it also makes him want to wrap you up in blankets and make sure nothing bad can ever happen to you, or to the life that’s bound to you. It makes him want to take you carefully, deliberately, treat you as if you’re fine china or a delicate glass flower.

You already know how gentle he can be, but tonight, he’ll show you even more tenderness, even more care, even more love.

Starting with kissing down your neck, sucking lightly at your pleasure points and grazing his teeth over your sensitive skin, before putting all of his weight on one hand and pushing up your sleep shirt with the other. He sits up to tug it off, your arms and back rising to assist him, and lets his eyes rove over every inch of exposed skin lovingly.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, baby,” he breathes, laying his hands on either side of your sternum and lightly dragging them down. They smooth over your breasts, your nipples pebbling beneath his touch, and down your soon to be growing stomach to hook into your pajama shorts. You lift your hips when he pulls, ever helpful, and spread your legs for him when the shorts clear your feet.

His eyes are drawn to your pussy as soon as it’s revealed, the way you glisten in the moonlight making him moan aloud and shift down onto his stomach between your thighs. He already got you in his mouth once today but there’s always room for seconds, and thirds even, especially when he’s as ravenous for you as he always is.

He doesn’t let his hunger drive his movements, keeps them slow and soft, licking up the seam of your cunt and letting out a gasping groan at the taste of your arousal as it paints his tongue. Your thighs twitch beside his head, threatening to close, but he would welcome them, honestly.

He would welcome the pressure of your soft flesh on his ears, the sensation of you holding him in place, the knowledge that you feel so good, you can’t focus on keeping your legs open. When he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks in little pulses, they do close, trapping him in bliss.

He can still breathe through his nose so he’s not worried about suffocating, and even if he did drown in you, it’s one hell of a way to go.

Bringing one hand to your pussy, he lets two fingers sink in, pressing them inside so slowly, you try to buck your hips to speed him up. He doesn’t give in, wraps his other arm up over your hips to anchor you to the bed as he begins sucking in long pulls, his tongue laving over you every so often just to get another taste.

Every moan that escapes you drives him, sends his fingers in deeper and deeper until they’re inside you to the root. He curls them then, feeling around for the spot that makes you gush and groaning when he finds it, petting over the ridged patch and feeling your cunt get wetter and wetter.

He slides his fingers in and out slowly, crooking them into that spot on every stroke inside, grunting and grumbling around your clit as your arousal starts to drip down his hand. Your walls flutter around his fingers, your cries grow closer and closer together, and when you call out his name, he knows you’re right on the edge.

Instinct tells him to speed up, to do what it takes to push you over, and instead, he consciously keeps his movements at a sedate pace, working you up up up until, finally, you fall apart with a sigh.

Normally, he’d keep going, push for another, but he needs to feel you, needs to be closer to you, needs to be inside of you. So he pulls his fingers out, heat gathering in his stomach when a slick pop! follows, and starts to rise, knowing you’ll release him.

Your thighs drop back down to the bed and he sits up between your legs, sucking his fingers into his mouth because he doesn’t want to waste a drop. You stare up at him with stars in your eyes, your gaze half-lidded and open.

When he braces himself on top of you, you wrap yourself around him, your arms twining around his neck and your ankles crossing at the small of his back. No words are needed as he reaches down and guides himself into you, your pussy swallowing around his cock as he pushes it deeper and deeper inside.

Every time feels like the first, brings back memories of experiencing true pleasure, true companionship, of realizing he belongs with you. That realization is enforced with each minute spent next to you, each morning, afternoon, and night making him even more sure that this is where he’s meant to be.

Being with you, inside of you, in love with you, is why he was put on this earth, and Mingyu believes that with all his heart.

It brings tears to his eyes again, especially when he thinks about the fact that the perfect combination of you and him is growing and developing in your belly even now, as he thinks.

“I love you so much, baby,” he gasps wetly, tucking his face into your neck so you can’t see the way his lashes are clumped together with saltwater.

You don’t let him hide, sinking a hand into his hair and pulling insistently until he faces you again. Your watery gaze makes him drop down to his elbows, his chest pressing against yours and his lips kissing anywhere they can reach.

“I love you, Mingyu, I love you more than anything,” you whisper before cupping his face with one hand and bringing his mouth to yours. He sips at your lips decadently, indulgently, like you’ve got a flavor he’s never tasted, and pulls his hips back just an inch or two before sending them forward again.

He can’t bear to leave the clutch of your cunt long enough to really thrust, can only rut and grind himself into you, his hips rolling and his head spinning as you kiss him breathless. It’s enough for him, and when he braces himself on one arm and lets his free hand find your clit, he knows it’ll be enough for you too.

Because you’re trembling beneath him, whimpering like you’re wounded, holding him so tightly he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to untangle himself from you. Not that he wants to, beyond content at the idea of walking around with you attached to him like the cutest barnacle alive.

Soon enough, you’re gasping with every push of his hips into yours, unable to keep kissing him as he swirls circles over your swollen clit. Your pussy clenches around him in pulses, locking down when he bottoms out to hold him inside of you, the drag of your walls on his cock exquisite beyond measure.

He’s starting to get close, his orgasm a slowburn in the depths of his belly, just waiting to ignite and raze him to the ground. You’re not far behind, your cries rising in pitch and your face beginning to crumple in pleasure as he rubs determined circles into your clit, hoping to push you up that hill before he gets there.

You reach the summit seconds before he does, throwing your head back and tensing your legs to pull him in as deep as he can go while your cunt undulates and gushes around him in waves. Your release triggers his own, the euphoria that overtakes him blinding and deafening. Every nerve ending stands on edge, amplifying the twitching and jerking of his cock inside you, cum flowing out in bursts to paint your inner muscles white as he moans and whines.

It’s the best orgasm he’s had in a while, much better than the one he had alone in the shower after you left to get ready this morning, and it leaves him feeling drained but satiated and soothed. He pets at your hair clumsily, mumbling words of love and affection and fondness into your neck as he lets himself relax into you, taking care not to allow too much of his weight to rest on you.

You pet him back, your hands drifting over his shoulders and along his spine and your legs still wrapped tight around his hips. He’s not sure how long you stay intertwined like this, just that he goes soft eventually but doesn’t slip out, keeping the cum from spilling out of you and onto the bed.

He’s sure the bed will be dirty even if he rises carefully, so when he realizes you’ve fallen asleep, he withdraws himself from you and lifts you into his arms once more, carrying you to the en suite and setting you down on the toilet so the rest can drip out. You wake up enough to hold yourself up, sending him a sleepy smile when he crouches in front of you and cups your face.

“I’m going to change the sheets, okay? I’ll come get you when I’m done,” he promises, pressing a kiss to your waiting, puckered lips before smooching your forehead and jogging off to do as he said.

You’re sitting at your vanity when he returns, your face dewy and your hair taken care of for the night. He smiles at the drowsy tilt to your eyes, reaching a hand out and taking yours to pull you back to the bedroom. You rise on shaky knees, following him to the bed and climbing in when he pulls the sheet and duvet back for you.

When you’re settled in on your side, he walks around to his own, sliding into his spot next to you and pulling the covers up to cover your bodies. You roll toward him immediately, seeking the heat of his arms and letting out a content sigh when they bundle you up against his chest.

“Mingyu, we’re going to have a baby,” you whisper tremulously, joy and wonder clear in your tone.

“We are,” he whispers back, his voice just as wobbly as yours. “Thank you, I love you.”

“Thank you. I never thought I could have this life. Especially not with you. I mean, you had to quit your job for me.”

“And I would quit one hundred times more, if it meant getting to be your husband. Besides, I think I’ll love my new job.”

“And what job is that?”

“Stay at home dad.”

AN: 😭😭😭 i so did not expect to write this in two freakin days but here we are!! i know settling down and starting a family isn't the ideal for everyone but it is for me and this couple 💖 and i loved getting to give that to them. thank you to @bbychocolat for brainstorming with me and for being my cheerleader ily forever 💖

pls reblog it makes my heart happy 🥰

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fxtalitygod · 17 days

Text

X. ~Survival~

Genre: Historical AU, angst, mature, suggestive, arranged-marriage

Warnings: Dark themes, gore, graphic imagery, theme/depictions of horror, body horror, swearing/language, suggestive, pregnancy, mentions and acts of suicide, arguments, mentions of adult murder, Pet name (Little Flower 6-10x) implied Stockholm Syndrome, grief imagery, images/depictions of dead bodies, child death/murder, character death(s), slight misogynistic themes (if you squint), dubcon/noncon (not any actual smut other than vague mentions of sex), implied postpartum, implied survivors guilt

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Today is a new day and after I got home from work and did some fine-tuning, I finally posted the FINAL CHAPTER (not including the epilogue) of Survival!!! I honestly find it funny that I had originally planned for this story to be a short series and it just spiraled into two years of writing! HAHAHAHAA!!!

JJK Mlist•Taglist Rules• • Pt.I • Pt. II • Pt. III • Pt. IV • Pt. V • Pt. VI • Pt.VII • Pt. VIII • Pt. IX • Pt. X • Epilogue

Emptiness.

It was a feeling that you bitterly greeted after having abandoned it six years ago. It was disappointing, but welcome nonetheless. You wished it was under different circumstances. You did not know which circumstances but knew it was anything other than this.

After the destruction of your life, everything went back to the beginning. You were rehomed in a new village and a different temple, though you could not tell much of the difference. Those blank walls still drove you to insanity. The marriage ceremonies had resumed and more children began crawling the halls in a matter of months.

Sukuna had seemingly lost interest in you after the incident. You had finally snapped, extinguishing the anticipation for the hopes that you would one day. Despite his seeming lack of interest, you were still watched over with diligence, still resided in his chambers, and still acquired a caretaker.

Your mental forces were deteriorating, and it was clear from the blank expression that graced your face. You assumed that Sukuna acknowledged that and decided to have a sitter stay on top of you if you were to do something unexpected– much like what you had done to your village.

The curse user knew the extent of your rage, but he did not quite expect you to leave your home in ruins, to burn your family into nothing but ash. Little to your knowledge, a part of him admired you for that; however, the words that left your mouth after the act had been done brought him a discomfort that neither himself could explain.

From the way he was rutting in you currently, you could not tell. Another attempt of impregnating you. Years ago, you would have had a mind to beg him to stop, and when you could not accomplish that, feign pleasure. You used to want to please Sukuna not for his benefit but your own. Now all you cared about was embracing the feeling of that emptiness as you merely felt the man fucking you: soundless, motionless, thoughtless.

It took a matter of months before you were with child again; however, unlike before, this pregnancy was worse. In the physical aspect, you were overall healthy, but your mental health was far from good. You were a husk of the woman you once were, having lost all ambition for your future. Even when spontaneous thoughts of what life would be like outside the temple, you could not help but feel nauseous.

Guilt.

There were times you wished you could have blamed it on your pregnancy and escape the reality of the issue, but your mind would not allow it. You were repulsed with yourself and could not help but feel like you were betraying your twins by just the simple notion that you were alive, and to think of a future for yourself without them revolted you beyond compare. Your pregnancy did not make it any better.

Most women in the temple thought of pregnancy as a fresh start after losing their previous offspring; a new chance to impress their husband– a sickening point of view; however, you could not be upset with them. Deep down, you believed they had been just as afraid as you were upon their arrival when their village elders proclaimed them the next tribute to Sukuna. They more than likely had a plan to make it out of this hell and made promises to return to their families, but somewhere down the line, all the manipulation, physical strain, and mental stress, caused them to accept their fates and try to make the best out of it, losing themselves in the process.

You were not so lucky.

If pregnancy was a punishment before, it was a curse now. Knowing you were to have another child brought you great remorse. Anytime you were to look or even feel your bump, you could not help but think of the past... to think of your twins. It felt like you were betraying them, trying to unconsciously replace them even though your pregnancy was out of your control.

The way you would eat at yourself could have been considered torture.

Besides the normal work around the temple, you would spend most of your evenings in a dark and unoccupied room, keeping to yourself. No one dared to disrupt you, mostly out of fear due to the knowledge of your power. Few left you space out of respect, knowing the pain you were going through; however, sometimes you wished they would walk through that door, hoping they would attempt to comfort you.

It would have been a good distraction from your running mind.

Those dark and quiet rooms gave you time to think and reflect. You realized there were many things you had undermined and denied for your own sanity. The list could go on, some minor, some major…and the major miscalculations stuck out like a sore thumb.

Trimester One.

Despite your efforts, your village nor your family would have ever accepted your children– Sukuna's blood coursed through their veins, and that was enough to consider them a monstrosity. Your hopes of escaping with them and living a happy life were an illusion you conjured up to keep a drive in you.

Trimester Two.

Whether you liked it or not, your twins would not stay innocent forever. The twins were under Sukuna's guidance, no thanks to your pact, and they absolutely adored him. The twins blindly trusted him with their entire beings and would have believed anything Sukuna had taught them was for good, and you knew for a fact that is how your partner would have spun it. Their acts would have been malicious and cruel and they would not have even known...and despite your want to tell them the truth, the constraints of your pact would have stopped you from doing so.

Trimester Three.

Even if you had successfully run away with your son and daughter in hand, the life the three of you would have lived would have been far from peaceful. You and the children were proven valuable assets to Sukuna; to think that your husband would give you all up so easily was foolish. The curse-user would have hunted you down to the ends of the world until you were back in his grasp.

And as you sat there holding your new baby girl, tears streaming down your face as you listened to her whimpers, you hoped she'd grow up to be a fool; a strong, but foolish girl. If your daughter grew up to be a fool, the world could not hurt her as it had hurt you. If she becomes a fool, she would not have to feel the burden you were feeling.

You hated that you hoped for her, hated the fact that you loved and cared for her after laying eyes on her small figure. The whole scene was pitiful. The arms of a mother holding her child close to her bosom as if shielding them from the world– the effort could be appreciated but was futile because the looming threat was already hovering over you as he inspected his creation. If his presence was not unsettling enough, his hum of satisfaction horrified you, causing you more tears.

"I should have killed myself that morning. It would have saved me a lot of heartache..." you whispered, repeating the words you had mentioned over a year ago.

Months back into motherhood you found yourself questioning yourself and your emotional availability every time you looked at your daughter. You were doing all the right things, but performing the tasks felt heavy on your shoulders, and the smiles you painted on your face felt like they were caked on. None of it felt real. There was no doubt you cared for your little girl, but you had to admit that the task was tiring– caring was tiring.

You thought the feeling would end, believed it was temporary, but days turned into months, and months turned into a year.

You had just finished your daughter's first inspection and were now in your sleeping chambers with your husband. You both stood there silent and unmoving, staring at each other with hardly any indication of who was willing to speak first. Fortunately, your daughter was the first to break the silence, whining as she clung to you. You sighed as you understood the child needed attention, moving the baby into a better position to lightly bounce her, attempting to calm her down.

"You know, I thought you would be overjoyed to be blessed with another child, Y/n," Sukuna sounded as he studied you.

"Whatever do you mean? I am nothing but pleased," you blankly responded, focusing entirely on the little girl bouncing in your arms.

Silence once again.

You could feel his stare burning into you; feel his agitation radiating off his skin as he looked for a real answer. Sukuna was not an idiot, you were aware of that, but his meaningless probing was getting on your nerves. You would much rather he got to the point than play his mind games. If he was going to be indirect, you would only do the same.

"Do you think of them when you look at her?"

There was a halt in your movements, breath hitching as you did so. You slowly moved your head to look at the man before you, your gaze piercing. You had every intention to avoid the question, but your mouth betrayed your mind.

“What do you think?” You snipped, a grimace forming onto your features.

“I could make you forget, simply remove them from your memory to rid you of this…ailment.”

For what felt like the thousandth time of your life, you could feel your eyes widen, however, this was the most appalling statement your husband had made. Had he really suggested ridding your memories with your twins? Had he no remorse? Of course not, why would he? The children were a means to an end, nothing more than a few pawns in his plan. Any love and affection the father had shown his son and daughter were shown with calculation and precision– there was no meaning behind those affections.

"You sick bastard."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"Y/n, I would advise that you watch your tone," a warning glare, "If I did not know any better, I would say that you were speaking out of turn when I am offering you such a gift– I do not offer such things lightly."

"Well it is good that you know better," the seething anger bubbling in your chest was choosing your words at this point, "How could you suggest such a thing?"

"I am doing you a mercy, Y/n, you are letting the past consume you from the inside out, and sooner or later you will become the image of your agony."

"You know nothing because if you did you would be in the same state as I am. You speak as if you know sympathy, but your words are honeyed to keep me in your grasp!"

Your breath was heavy as you confronted Sukuna, glaring daggers into his soul as you watched him step closer.

"Your perception can be quite bothersome at times, Little Flower; however, I believe it is what I admire most about you. I think it is why I chose you...why I love you."

Love.

"Love."

Your laughter was hysterical. The tears welling up in your eyes from pure disbelief and humor. Sukuna Ryomen himself has admitted to loving you for the second time. This time claiming he chose you because he loves you.

What a joke.

"Love me?" you choked between giggles, "Sukuna, you would not know love if it hit you in the face. Like I said before, your words are coated with the sweetest sugars to keep me around, to bring me hope, and quite frankly, the sweetness has become dull and bitter," a pause as you caught your breath, "You do not love me Sukuna. As I have stated, you love what I can provide you."

Silence had greeted you both for what seemed like the millionth time, but you could have been wrong, you lost count at this point.

"I understand the concept of love, more than you think, Little Flower; however, love has little meaning. So you are right, I do not love you, I value you. Is that not greater than love?"

You scoffed.

"You are going to die alone and I am glad that you will."

A soft chuckle sounded from your husband before feeling a strange feeling at the back of your head. You could feel the kanzashi pin moving in your hair as Sukuna played with the accessory.

"I highly doubt that."

Those four words had caused your heart to sink, bringing you more fear than you had ever experienced in your entire life. Without thought, you backed away from the man towering over you. You shook your head as you held eye contact with Sukuna, almost stumbling on your feet as you felt for the door and clumsily exited the room. You had your daughter close to your chest as you entered the hallway.

What little you had of your life came crashing down instantly as the gravity of your reality unfolded to its full extent.

You would never be free and although that was a realization you had made long ago...this time you had no hope to convince you otherwise.

So what did you do?

You ran.

You flew through the corridors to the gardens, arriving with heavy breath. Scanning the grounds you searched for the only individual who could help you right now. The moment your eyes registered the woman, you quickly approached, hardly paying attention to anything along your path as you made your way over.

"Y/n-"

"I have something for you!" you interrupted, holding out a pin you had stored and concealed for years, never knowing the right moment to give it to the woman before you.

The woman who had lost her sick and poor son on your very first inspection day.

You watched as her eyes welled up immediately, taking the pin and inspecting it as if to make sure it was real. When she was able to confirm the little trinket was indeed not a figment of her imagination, she held it close to her chest, letting her silent sobs escape before looking at you.

"Thank you. Thank you so much. But why are you giving this to me?"

You looked around hesitantly before pitifully looking at her, letting your walls crumble to reveal all your pain and suffering.

"I need your help."

"Uraume!"

"Yes, Sukuna-sama," the right hand responded.

"I would like you to gather the women and children from the inspection, I have an announcement."

"Yes, Sukuna-sama, I'll get right on it."

With that Uraume disappeared, leaving Sukuna in his quarters alone. The man paced in his chambers, reflecting on the prior conversation from earlier. The talk did not have the most satisfying ending, but much like the other unfortunate discussions that had been held between the two of you, this would be another problem that would resolve itself in due time.

The move would help move that process faster.

This village had quickly bored the tyrant, as they were quick to promise vengeance and destruction upon his empire. Same-old-same-old. So with that, it was time to move on to the next village after leaving this one behind in ashes.

"Sukuna-sama, the women and children do not appear to be in their chambers or the gardens, the workstations are abandoned too.

"What?"

Without a thought, Sukuna stormed out of the room and into the halls, those blank walls making the temple look more abandoned knowing that everyone had seemingly disappeared. He looked through every room he managed to pass, even using his abilities to sense the faintest amount of cursed energy. For a while, he came up with nothing, but after catching a familiar aura, he briskly started to follow the direction it was coming from.

The curse-user found himself in the main hall, where he saw his wives and children gathered. The husband would be lying if he claimed he was not confused with the situation, but he would not show that. Instead, Sukuna decided to try and decipher the scenario.

Upon first glance, it had seemed that the women and children were gathered for a usual gathering, but upon closer observation, something was off. The looks of the individuals in the room seemed to differ. Some women seemed relieved, others looked almost proud, and others...well, the last of the women looked as if they were being held there against their will.

As the monster-of-a-man continued to scan the room, he finally managed to find you, standing in the center of the room, your head held high; however, you looked exhausted, broken. It brought that familiar discomforting feeling to Sukuna, the same feeling when you had spoken those words after you had burned down your village.

"What is this, Little Flower?" Sukuna questioned with some amusement behind his voice, masking his indifference.

"Do not call me that," you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper as it softly echoed in the room.

"Y/n-sama ple-"

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH!" you yelled, successfully silencing the crying woman who had shouted for you.

The atmosphere was tense, and he would tread carefully because Sukuna was no fool.

"What do you want, Little Flower? An apology? I can, obviously, give that to you, but we both know it would not solve much. So what is it you truly want?"

"To leave..." you weakly announced, watching as Sukuna gradually approached before stopping in his footsteps.

"Well then, Little Flower, you have gathered yourself and all your companions just in time, I was ready to announce our departure from this village. You get what you want, righ-"

"That's not what I want." you interrupted.

Sukuna was silent, his brow twitching in irritation as he stared at you, stopping mid-stride.

"Then what do you want?"

"I want the offer you gave me back on the table?" you quickly responded.

"And what offer would you be referring to, Little Flower?"

"On my very first inspection with my twins, you offered me to kill everyone in this room– I want to change my answer."

Your husband chuckled, "Do you not think the circumstances have changed a little, my dear? I gave you that option years ago, what makes you think that is something I am still willing to offer?"

"Because you love me..."

"Now you are willing to embrace that love?"

"Only if you do this one last thing for me. I will let you love me until my last mortal days, and me in return, just as long as everyone in this room dies."

A sly smirk, "As you wish, Little Flow-"

"By my hands!" you interjected.

Delight was an expression that Sukuna could not hold back at those words.

"It's a deal, Y/n."

"Perfect."

With those words sealing the pact, you took no further wait in your next actions. You ignored all the shouts and screams of those who wished to live, ridding yourself of whatever empathy you once had– you had to admit, it made things a lot easier when setting the room ablaze. Hearing their screams of agony and pain was a lot easier when you managed to wash out the humanity within you.

You could only feel relief after hearing all the shrieks and wails die out into nothing but silence. The room was filled with nothing but fire, bone, and ashes, the smell of burning flesh was prominent; however, that did not stop him from approaching you.

"I love you, Little Flower." Sukuna proclaimed, bringing his forehead to yours before softly kissing you.

He pulled away to look into your eyes, admiring them momentarily before smiling softly. Some may have mistaken it for a look of endearment, but it was a look of satisfaction. He had successfully taken your pride, dignity, and hope– he had taken all of you.

"I love you too."

And because you had no pride, dignity, or hope, left to hold on to...

It made it so much easier to bring that poison-coated dagger to your flesh and slit your belly.

For Sukuna everything went in slow motion, immediately swatting the dagger from your hand to the ground before cupping your wound, blood covering his hand in seconds. The desperate individual tried using his reverse curse technique to revert the damage, but it was pointless as you were resisting. For the first time in a long time, Sukuna felt genuine fear as he watched you slowly slip away from reality. And as everything started to play back to speed, Sukuna had a realization.

"Where is our daughter?!" The four-armed monstrosity yelled upon notice of your empty arms, continuing at attempts to stop your bleeding with little success.

Your smile made his heart drop.

"Gone." you sputtered, blood slipping from your cooling lips before going completely limp.

"...Gone where? Little Flower..."

"Little Flower!"

"LITTLE FLOWER, ANSWER ME!"

"Y/N!!!!!!!!"

You upheld your deal...you loved him for your last mortal days, it just so happened that day was seconds into a day, and as Sukuna sat there holding your motionless form, he could not have regretted anything more in his life. Making that deal was the best thing to happen in your life because in the end...

...You won the game of Survival.

And you hoped that your daughter could one day do the same.

Until the epilogue yall... (｀∀´)Ψ

Taglist:

@littlemochi @mistalli @youngbeansprout @bbylime @bangtan-forever1479 @idktbhloley @izayas-rings @o3o-aya@pyschopotatomeme @persephonehemingway @otomaniac @meforpr3sident @fourcefulcupid @nezuscribe @my-simp-land @zukuphilia @niya729 @spiritofstatic @bbittersw33t @kashasenpai @decaysan @honeybaegle @ygslvr @outrofenty @esposadomd @ali2426 @anmath @yazzzmints @lovingnahida @sincerest-one @rosemaydone321 @j0dios @k-ki3rd @maki-zenin1944 @shadowywizardarcade @ae-mius @xiangping-28 @loaves4me @aloraaaxcrystalzx

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0cta9on · 11 days

Note

Can you do a fluffy smut fic of IVE's Wonyoung? In the fic, she is madly in love with her older manager whom has been by her side since her trainee days and loved her like his own little sister. Then she heard about his decision to transfer to another agency and began to panic. She begged him not to leave and confessed to him. However, OC rejected her due to the fear of destroying their close bond. WY eventually succeed in reassuring him of her love and both of them ended up making out.(OC is 5-6 years older than WY, hence the brother-sister dynamic relationship)

For the past three years, you served as the manager for the girl group sensation IVE, and you’ve loved every single second of it. The girls are cute and almost immediately started treating you like an older brother, which you gladly accepted. You’ve been a shoulder for them to cry on when things get tough and thanks to the pretty decent Starship Entertainment check, you often bought them little treats to tide them over in between schedules. They were like your little family - six little sisters that you love like they’re your own blood. Unfortunately, you might be saying bye to your little family soon.

Your footsteps echo along the corridor of Starship’s building as you pace nervously back and forth. As your contract with the company runs out, others have been reaching out and offering manager positions to you. Nothing has interested you so far, mainly just offers from small companies looking for an experienced manager to take care of their rookie groups. That is, until this morning, when you received a ludicrous offer from a larger company that would set you up for the rest of your life. You would be a fool not to take it - but that would also mean leaving behind the girls you have cared for all these years.

A sudden jab to the side of the ribs makes you jump. “Jesus Christ, what th-” You turn around to face the perpetrator, only to see Wonyoung laughing at you.

“You should see your face oppa, that was hilarious!” She exclaims. Normally, you would laugh along and scold her playfully, but the thought of having to break the news about your potential departure fills you with an overwhelming sense of dread.

“What’s wrong, oppa?” Wonyoung asks, noticing your uncharacteristically serious expression.

Out of all the girls, Wonyoung is the one you’ve known the longest. You first met her when she was preparing for Produce 48, and you watched her grow and mature ever since. To outsiders, she is the epitome of success, but you know better than anyone just how much pain she’s experienced to get to this level. With how strong your bond is, you can’t even imagine how much it would crush her to tell her that you’re leaving.

You relinquish a heavy sigh deep within your lungs. “L-look, I-” The words struggle to make themselves known, writhing inside your gut as you stare deep into Wonyoung’s concerned eyes. Without another thought, you pull her into a tight embrace, more for yourself than for her.

“Hey, it’s okay, oppa,” she soothes, rubbing your back. “You can tell me.”

You instinctively tighten your grip on her, afraid that this’ll be the last time you get to hold her like this. “I got an offer this morning… from another company. The salary they’re offering would help me out a lot, so I-”

“You’re leaving?!” Wonyoung pulls away slightly to look you in the eyes. It feels like a knife stabs you in the heart as you stare back at her teary gaze.

“Y-yeah, I am…” You utter regretfully. She fights back a sob as she hits your chest, hurting your soul more than it does your actual body.

“B-but you can’t leave!”

“I’m sorry, Wonyoung, but Starship-”

“Screw Starship! What about IVE? What about me?” Tears begin to flow uncontrollably down her cheeks. All those years of consoling her and being by her side, yet the one time she needs you the most is when you’re about to leave her. Being the cause of her tears hurts you more than you’ll ever know.

“Wonyoung, I-”

“I love you!” She exclaims, glaring through her misty eyes.

“I love you guys too, but-”

“NO!” Her voice echoes loudly through the corridor, pushing you back a few steps. Always the epitome of prim and proper, you have never seen Wonyoung scream like this. A deep, unspoken ache reflects in her eyes as you start putting the pieces together.

“I-I… I love you… Like, really love you… I want to be with you a-and hold you tightly… I want to kiss you and feel like I’m the only woman for you… I-I just… I love you so, so much… You can’t leave me like this…”

You freeze in disbelief, unsure of what to think or feel about her sudden confession. You always made sure not to develop any feelings for the girls as that could end up badly for the both of you. However, you can’t deny that you’ve been seeing Wonyoung differently as of late. The way she carries herself with such professionalism and confidence, how hard she words behind the scenes for herself and for the rest of IVE, you can truly see just how beautiful of a person she is, both inside and out. Taking this job would be the chance of a lifetime, but a person like Wonyoung only comes around once in a lifetime. You would be a fool to let her go.

You gently cup her cheeks, wiping away her tears with your thumbs. “It’s okay, Wonyoung. I’m not going anywhere.” She breaks down and begins sobbing into your chest. Your mind suddenly feels lighter now that you’ve made up your mind. In fact, you almost feel ridiculous for almost choosing money over the family that you found three years ago.

“You’re really not going to leave?” Wonyoung asks you after calming down a bit. You shake your head, a hopeful smile growing on your face, before she wraps her arms around your head, pressing her lips against yours. Subconsciously, you have been waiting for this kiss for years and you aren’t about to let it go so easily. The scent of her strawberry shampoo combined with her soft, marshmallow lips brings you to a new high you’ve never experienced before.

As you break the kiss, the heartbroken girl is swiftly replaced by the bright and lovely Wonyoung that you’re used to. She giggles as you kiss her cheeks, getting rid of any leftover tears. Suddenly, Wonyoung takes your hand, a mischievous twinge in her eye further emphasized by an alluring bite in her lip.

“Since you’re not leaving anymore, I think we should celebrate. Come with me,” she says before dragging you along the corridor. She peeks through one of the doors before pulling you inside, locking the door behind her. As you look around the small room, you notice a bunch of foam padding lining the walls, along with a piano and a couple chairs.

“This is one of the solo vocal practice rooms,” she explains. “No one outside will be able to hear us, no matter how loud we are.” A lightbulb goes off in your head as you turn to her, both shocked and turned on. Wonyoung’s cheeks turn a light pink as you look her up and down.

“I-I mean, we don’t have to do it if you don’t want-” You stop her, bringing a finger to her lips.

“I want to do it. I want you,” you assure her. She smiles brightly as she pulls you in for another kiss, this one much steamier than the other. Your hands snake around her petite waist, bringing her as close as you physically can. Her gentle breath starts to get heavier, gracing your cheeks, and the warmth in your chest continues to grow until it threatens to burst from your skeleton. You want nothing more than to love this girl as much and as hard as you can, pushing her into the padded wall with the fervor of a new sun on an early morning.

Wonyoung strokes your cock over your jeans, teasing you with her fingertips. You respond in kind by grazing her thigh with your fingernails, causing her body to shiver beneath you. You break the kiss and rest your forehead against hers to catch your breath, the final look before the leap. She gazes at you with fondness and desire, and you feel lucky knowing you’re the only man that will ever receive that look from her. Tentatively, she unzips your pants, audibly gasping as she looks upon your cock for the first time, unintentionally inflating your ego. You watch with bated breath as Wonyoung kneels in front of you, slowly stroking you with her soft hands and placing gentle kisses along your length, staining it with her lip gloss.

“Does that feel good, oppa?” She asks, searching for approval.

“Yes, that feels so good, baby,” you moan, brushing your hands through her silky hair.

“Mmm, I like it when you call me baby. Keep saying it.” Wonyoung flashes you a smile before taking you into her mouth, making you shiver like the first time you step into a cold pool. Her thick, glossy lips eagerly sucking your cock combined with her big, round eyes looking up at you brings you to all new heights of arousal.

“Holy shit baby, you’re amazing,” you compliment. In response, Wonyoung plants her hands on your thighs, attempting to take your entire length down her throat at once, her gags filling the entire room. You almost feel bad for the people walking by who don’t get to hear this beautiful chorus reserved for you.

Eventually, Wonyoung stumbles backwards, choking for air as saliva drips down her chin. She reaches for your hand, and you gladly help her up, anticipating what will happen next. With a wink, she plants her hands against the wall, sticking her ass out towards you. Her warm yet seductive gaze pulls you in, promising a moment you’ll never forget.

“I’ve waited for this moment for so long,” she says, biting her lip. You flip up her skirt, revealing her cute ass for the first time, and peel off her damp panties. The scent of her dripping sex fills your brain, drawing you towards her even more. As you slowly insert yourself into her, you gauge Wonyoung’s reaction, making sure you’re not hurting her.

“Is that okay, baby?” You whisper into her ear. She nods, wincing slightly.

“S-so good, keep going.”

You hold onto her waist for support, eventually bottoming out inside of her. Her warm walls grasp you tightly, still adjusting to your size. After a moment, Wonyoung nods, prompting you to start thrusting into her. Slow yet firm at first, as her moans begin to escalate, you increase the power of your thrusts until it devolves into pure, unbridled pounding.

“A-ah! Yes! F-feels so g-good!” She groans in pleasure. “K-kiss me!”

You do as she says, capturing her lips into a sloppy kiss as you continue fucking her from behind. You exchange breaths, warming up each other’s skin, filling your nostrils with each other’s pheromones. In your mind, nothing else matters except making love to the woman before you. You want to spend the rest of your life loving her in every way you can, and when you’ve done it all, you want to invent new ways of loving just so you can show her how much she means to you. A familiar pressure begins to build up in your stomach as you gaze into Wonyoung’s eyes, half-lidded as she succumbs to your passion. You take her lips a final time before shooting your seed deep into her womb, cementing your bond forever. She follows soon after, nearly collapsing as her orgasm renders her legs into jelly.

“O-oh my god… That was better than I imagined,” she says. The two of you share a gentle laugh, holding onto her with no intention of letting her go ever again.

#ive #jang wonyoung #ive wonyoung #kpop fanfic #kpop gg #ive x male reader #ive x male oc #ive wonyoung x male reader #ive wonyoung x male oc #smut #wonyoung smut #ive wonyoung smut

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 13 days

Note

was I the asshole for beating the shit out of my classmate(s)?

I (14F) have endured bullying for some years now. I've told my parents, my older brother, my grandparents, my teachers and my favorite aunt. nothing has been done, and if anything asking for help and not receiving it has made me feel much worse because I've felt stupid for thinking I could trust anyone with this

its been getting so bad that for the last 6 months or so I've been waking up with intense panic attacks every day and I would refuse to move. my mom would berate me and drag me to school anyway. literally dragging me by pulling me because I would not move

so the other day she dropped me by at school and I had another panic attack in the hallway. a teacher found me and instead of helping me he forcefully took me to class. I literally begged him to at least give me a moment so I would calm down and he said no. he took me to class to make sure I would walk in and I did, still having a panic attack. this only made my classmates laugh at me even more. particularly one girl and one boy who are the worst so when I walked by them I snapped and I started punching them, pulling their hair, grabbing a heavy book and hitting them with it.... I thought I couldn't hit hard at all but I must have been really angry bc the guy started bleeding from his nose and the girl started bleeding from her lip after accidentally biting it while I was hitting her

suddenly the school staff decided to get off their asses. no action was taken when I needed help but now they just happen to agree that violence is unacceptable. only physical violence tho bc harassing and psychologically abusing other students is ok. Ive been temporarily kicked out of school so clearly they can intervene, I just wonder how come they didnt do it sooner

my classmates were comparing me to school shooters on social media. I blocked their ass but I want to see whether they are right or if I shouldve hit them harder. I have never hit anyone before but I was real tired of their shit. I'm the one who faced consequence and not them so aita?

#aita #am i the asshole

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charlottecutepie · 4 months

Text

☥ Bunny meat (William Afton x fem!reader x Michael Afton)

Summary: He was a likeable middle-aged man who had wonderful children, his dream job and a beautiful wife. He never blamed himself for his own actions, or to be more exact, he never thought about their consequences.

author note: Ive been thinking for a very long time whether I should publish this fic here. this is my fav fic I wrote for fnaf, I especially like the way I portrayed William here. so please, if any of you would like to see this story here, can you leave a comment? It’ll help me to understand. I’m just unsure if I should post this fic here :’’)

tags: darkfic, unhealthy relationship, angst, smut with plot, p in v, dubcon, oral sex, rough and gentle sex, daddy kink, blood play, knife play, fear play, hurt/comfort, violence, gore/murders, child abuse, follows fnaf lore, moral and physical abuse, virginity kink, anxiety disorder, age gap, daddy issues, unreliable narrator, hallucinations, hidden pairing, William is sick, psychopathy, unhealthy narcissism

Chapter 2.

Chapter 1. Thoughts

Chilly spring night. Light wind and rain. It's so fresh outside that the opposite effect appears: you feel as if you are suffocating from excess air. Outside is your favourite smell of wet grass after the rain. Light smile appears on your lips, and you carelessly go out on the porch of your house, looking at the beautiful view in front of you.

At such moments, everything around seems to be a part of you, you feel some kind of connection with nature and this world. Peace, tranquility, two things what you lack in life.

Today was a bad day. Maybe tomorrow will be better? Tomorrow will be the same. And when will it be better? Does this hell have an end?

Your head is filled with bad thoughts. It feels like every day is getting a little worse than the previous one. You never understood why you deserved such treatment from your father. It was as if he was doing everything so that you wouldn't feel like his daughter. He never even called you that. Something bad happened in your family every day, mom and dad always argued, and you always ran into your room in a state of panic, anxiety. What if father does something to her? That's what happened a few years ago. When you called your aunt in tears, begging her to come, because your father broke your mom's leg and beat her to a concussion. You could have been next if your aunt hadn't arrived on time. That evening, the picture of father changed dramatically in your little child's head.

“Father” means something cold, something cruel. The one who can punch, beat, shout, scream. Abuse.

You live with this thought to this day, but the only thing that has changed is that now there is no father anymore. He died a month ago, which was a shock to your whole little family. You hardly remember what happened exactly on the day of his death, but you clearly memorised your mother who cried all night because she knew well that the only one who could work to feed the family was her husband.

And now, because of this husband she cannot find a well-paid job, because he took care to provide her with a serious disability. And you're too young to work, first you must finish school and university.

Your skin was covered with goosebumps, you went back into the house. Passing by mom's room, you made sure that she was asleep and went to your own one.

Tomorrow is another day.

…

June 22.

“Y/n, breakfast is ready.” you heard mom's voice from the kitchen. Telling her you'd be coming soon, you headed to the bathroom to comb your hair and wash your face.

On the dining table you saw a plate with your favorite breakfast. Pancakes with honey, it couldn't not make you happy. You smiled and sat down opposite your mom. Woman was in a joyful mood.

“Good morning, dear, how did you sleep?” she asked gently, examining your face expression. That's how your conversation started, about everything and nothing at once. She told something about her plans for today, for a week, about her friends, about how one of them gave birth again. You just enjoyed her monologue, sometimes nodding and shaking your head. It was nice for you to see a sparkle in mom's eyes, it was something strange and unique for you, but warming soul. “I absolutely forgot that soon is your birthday!”

“Oh, really? If you hadn't told me, I wouldn't have remembered…” you answered in confusion, fidgeting in your chair and twitching your leg. For some reason, the mention of your birthday made you uncomfortable. Probably because it will be your first birthday without your father. After all, when he was alive, you never really celebrated it. The maximum that was — sweets that your mother gave you in secret from him. You wonder what will happen this time?

“How are we going to celebrate?” Mom asked, smile on her face.

You looked at the floor, nervously fiddling with your shorts. You scratched your head, trying to think of something, but no idea came to mind. Your thoughts are empty again.

“It's your 18th birthday… We need to celebrate it well somehow.” for a second she paused, before looking at you with cheerful face. “Oh… Mr. Afton!”

Your eyes widened in surprise, because after the funeral, your family stopped communicating with Afton family.

“Mom, what are you up to?” you frowned. To be honest, you always got shivers running down your spine from his name, because your last meeting was at that cemetery, on the day of your father's funeral. Memories have entered your mind, forcing you to remember your last dialogue with Mr. Afton.

After the burial itself happened, you ran away from the crowd away. Your heart was racing like crazy, trying to jump out of your chest. You sat down on a wet bench, covering your face in hysterics. Tears streamed down your cheeks, dripping onto a puddle under the bench.

“Young lady,” a low-pitched male voice called you out of hysteria. “Everything is okay? You've been sitting here for hour.”

You opened your eyes and raised your head. Next to you was standing was a tall, middle-aged man with dark brown hair, dressed in black trousers and a jacket. He leaned towards you, holding an umbrella over your head. His face seemed painfully familiar, but because of the hysteria, you couldn't remember who it was.

“Oh god, Y/n? I didn't recognize you, little one. Why are you sitting here all alone?” he smiled broadly as he sat down next to you on the bench, still holding the umbrella for you. “Your mom is looking for you, she's so worried. Her beloved girl is lost.”

You recognised this man. It was none other than William Afton. One of your father's friends, he often came to visit you, and your family also visited him. You were embarrassed by ignoring his questions because you didn't know what to respond. He's been staring at your face the whole time.

“Come on, princess, I see how cold you are.” with these words, he took off his jacket, putting it on your shoulders. “I understand how hard it is for you, honey.”

You haven't received so many nicknames from any men for all your 17 years of life. Never, not once. His voice at some point began to seem more comfortable and soothing. Because of all the surging emotions, you burst into tears again in front of him, no longer hiding your face. William, not wasting a minute, threw umbrella and took you in his arms, so that your face was hidden in his chest. His cold hands stroked your hair, soothing you, calming you. It may have looked strange from out of context, but you really needed support in such hard moment.

“Don't cry, Y/n. You'll be fine, little one.” he talked and talked endlessly, but because of your own tears and sobs, you ignored everything, only burying your nose in his chest more.

“He's the owner of a pizzeria! Do you want to celebrate there? I'm sure he'll give us a discount in honor of such an event.” her smile never disappeared for a second. You were already beginning to doubt at how real her emotions were.

“Are you sure? We don't have much money anyway…”

“Never mind, I want you to finally have the best birthday, dear.” she winked and got up from the table, putting the plates and mugs in the sink.

Your lips curled at the thought of having to see William again.

#william afton smut #fnaf x reader #william afton x reader #steve raglan x reader #fnaf william afton #michael afton x reader #william afton imagines #fnaf x y/n

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boytumms · 8 months

Note

This video but of a boy with a pumpkin growing out of his cunt, pinned to the ground with the owner of the garden leaving sand to make the growing process easy on his stomach. His skin is reddening the more it grows but with the sadistically gentle care given to his belly and his belly only, it’s smooth all around like a balloon

https://www.tumblr.com/burstingwithbellies/728461560571461632

OOO YESSSS IVE SEEN THAT VIDEO!!! Those pumpkins are so absolutely massive, that poor boy’s tummy would have to stretch so much to hold something so big and heavy. The pumpkin grows huge in a matter of weeks, weighing 150+ pounds by the time it’s fully grown. His belly is swollen and lumpy, the shape of the pumpkin clearly showing through his paper thin skin. His organs have all been pushed aside to make room for its growth and the poor thing can barely breathe around such a large solid object.

His skin is red and angry, veins visible on the stretched flesh and covered with stretch marks. His belly button has popped out and pulled flat over the taut surface of his tummy, his navel having stretched the most of all. He feels like his belly is always at its limit, but everyday it somehow manages to stretch a tiny bit more. It’s so painful he can’t stop moaning, constantly rubbing and clutching at his swollen sides, the front of his tummy having grown out of reach weeks ago.

He begs the farmer to cut the stem so the pumpkin stops growing, but his cries go unheard. The giant pumpkin contest is still a month away, and the farmer won’t cut the stem until the hour before it starts. When the day finally arrives, the boy looks like he has a fully grown man curled up inside him. The stem is cut after four months of growing, and it takes 5 men to lift his tummy up and load him into the truck.

At the contest, he and 2 dozen other boys all swollen and moaning around their giant pumpkin filled bellies are judged by weight. Unluckily for the boy, his wins in the heaviest pumpkin category, a whopping 300 pounds for the fifth year in a row. After his farmer is handed a big blue ribbon, the next contest can finally begin: which boy can push out his pumpkin the fastest.

Each boy is given a drug that kick starts labor, sending them into the throes of birth within minutes. Each pumpkin weighs well over 200 pounds each, and their bellies have stretched so thin their muscles are practically useless. The fair is filled with pained moans, cries, and screams as they desperately fight to push the massive pumpkins out of their tummies, all suffering through agonizing contractions as their bellies strain and squeeze despite how weak they’ve become. The fair is in town for two weeks, and many of the boys will take that long to give birth.

Those who are unable to birth their pumpkin are taken home and dumped back into the farmers field, left to scream and sob and push alone. They kick and thrash and beg for help as they push and shove the top of their tummies, anything in desperation to get the pumpkin out. But their bodies are too weak after weeks of fruitless labor, and they can do nothing but cry in pain, stuck giving birth, suffering through endless contractions until the pumpkin rots inside them, finally becoming soft enough to push out.

Only for the farmer to seed them with a new plant for next year’s competition.

#ask #anonymous #mpreg #plant preg #hyper preg #hyper pregnancy #birth #belly kink #writings

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we-out-here-simping · 3 months

Text

Chapter 1: Three inches minimum.

(s.h. x gn!reader)

from the river to the sea (educate yourself and help however you can)

Warnings: y/n might or might not be used; no pronouns used (gn!reader); flashbacks within a flashback; suggestivenes (no smut); trauma; might be canon divergent in future (cuz screw the canon) ; very questionable food choices on readers part (don't ask me I have no idea why I put it in)

word count: 9.5k

A/n: alright gang! we start all over again and imma do this right this time. i really am liking doing this rewrite/revamp of the old stuff now that i know where to take this story. so ive added new stuff that i really wanted to and got rid of some stuff as well.

i dont write smut but this is an 18+ blog mdni

promises series masterlist

...

Life in Hawkins was not a normal one. But then again, what did you know about the norm anyway?

You ran away from the Hawkins lab in 1980. Even after all these years, its memories still haunted you. You still got nightmares, they had never really stopped.

It was hard to forget, you in your dirty hospital gown, the cloth had still smelled of smoke. You had been lethargic, exhausted, but you had a goal in mind. Find Eight.

You didn't know where she was, but she was your best bet. In the lab, she was the closest thing you had had to a friend. she was your sister. She told you about what her life was like before she had been taken to the lab, she had remembered a lot from then, you on the other hand, didn't. she used tell you all she remembered from outside.

it had been so long since you had last seen her. two years. 1978.

“Come with me”, she had almost begged, holding your hands in her, “we’ll do all that we wanted to. We’ll be free”

You don't know why you couldn't do it then.

“Please. We’ll have names, we’ll find your real parents, we'll find mine, we’ll be together, we'll be free, that's what you wanted too, didnt you?” she swallowed, desperate, chest heaving. the alarms had been ringing through the halls. The clang of the heavy metal doors and boots stomping rang in the air— they were coming, Papa was coming. you were running out of time. you could run far far away. But you were stuck, your throat dry.

“I.. we can’t”, was all that came out. Your words betrayed you because Eight was right, it was all you wanted. It was all both of you wanted. More than anything. But in the heat of the moment, everything was scary, you were so damn scared.

Eight stared at you, she stepped back, your shaky hands slipping out of her own. The noise got louder, the stomps closer. The betrayal and confusion on her features quickly morphed into a stoic expression.

“Maybe he’s right.” she swallowed, shaking her head, “You are too weak”, she turned and started walking away. you wanted to call after her but nothing came out. she stopped– the guards were so close– she turned her head a little yet still not showing you her face.

“Goodbye, seven.”

You had to find her because despite what she had said, she was your only hope. two years later, it was a shot in the dark at best, but what other choice did you have?

you tried looking for her, but the void was nothing but emptiness, yet crowded as a maze. she wouldn't let you see her. She was hiding, or rather, just not letting you in. you just hoped she was okay.

You weren't sure how, but you managed to stay out of suspicion for a week before an old woman found you trying to ‘steal’ clothes– a jacket more specifically.

That's when you met Jim hopper.

“Ok, kid. How about you start by telling me your name?” a low gruff in the man’s voice. You stayed silent as you looked down to your hands in your lap, there was dirt beneath your nails. Water was hard to come across when you're on the run, especially in this cold.

“How about, where you're from, ‘cause I know you're not from around here” Hopper spoke up again. You pulled the sleeves of your full sleeved t-shirt further down, palms sweaty.

“Listen, kid”, he sighs, “ you’ve gotta give me something” you infact continued to give him nothing. you tuck your cold fingers under your thighs, trying your best to hold back the shivers. The ill-fitted t-shirt and joggers you'd found the day after you'd run away didn't do much in matters of protecting you from the cold. That was why you had tried to get that thick jacket. the very same you were caught ‘stealing’ that had brought you here.

“Mrs. Lauter wanted me to arrest you, y’know?” he tried to prompt you. you didn't look up from the tattered shoes you wore– they didn't fit you, they weren't yours.

“Hey!”, he raised his voice a little, your gaze snapped to his– eyes panicking. “look at me when I am talking to you!” he said sternly.

His gaze softened up along with his voice. “don't have to worry though. I got it under cover. Dumpster diving isn't much of an offense. But you gotta tell me where you came from so i can take you back home”

“No”, you finally speak up with a finality that he hadn't expected.

“Oh, so you do speak”, he leaned back in his chair, looking at you, analysing every detail about you. you avoided eye contact, your frame shivering, the dirt on your skin, your hair, “What's with the whole buzz cut, huh? Last time i checked, that wasn't what the kids were doing these days”

you wrapped your arms around your body, eyes still trained down. “C'mon kid you gotta give me something”, he huffed.

the only movement he got from you was you blinking down at your shoes. “Fine”, Frustrated, he got up, his chair pushed behind him, “then i guess you wouldn't mind being locked up in juvie then”

You looked up at him, eyes wide, brows knotted, not understanding what he said meant.

“That's little people jail”, realisation flashed across your face and he waited for you to say something but when you didn't say anything, he picked up his hat from the table with a deep sigh and moved to walk out.

Just when he was about to push the door to head outside his office, “I need to find my sister”, came a quivering voice behind him, your eyes finally looking at him.

There it is, he thought to himself.

“So”, he started, walking back to his chair, “this sister of yours. What's her name?”

“I– I don't know”, you stuttered, gaze moving back to your hands. You mentally berated yourself for letting it slip. you weren't even sure why you trusted him enough with that information, maybe that was just your 14 year old brain being stupid. you wondered what her name was now.

“You don't know? Your own sister's name?” he waited for an answer, leaning against the table, “what did I say about looking at me when I talk to you?”

You looked at him apprehensively, arms wrapping tighter around yourself, trying your best to not shiver.

He sighed again, voice low, “Listen kid, it's late. So I'd appreciate it if you gave some answers.”

No response.

You weren't sure why, but Jim was willing to help you. you lived under his roof for two weeks, during which he considered what to do with you.

Whenever he inquired about your past, he would be greeted with nothing but silence. He tried asking about the sister you mentioned– nothing.

He decided calling child protective services was the best choice but you knew that as soon as Hopper would make it that call, your Papa would be at his door– ready to take you back to the lab.

Just when he was about to do it, you had grabbed Hopper's hand before he could dial the number and made him forget all about it.

you needed time. you had to find your sister. and for some reason this man wanted to help you, for some reason you felt safe. you felt guilty, using him as just a means to your end. you promised yourself to not use your powers on him ever again.

Hopper didn't adopt you. He was aware that he was a drunk smoker and his place wasn't exactly the most child friendly place, filled with unprescribed medication that he popped like candy.

Hopper did find you the cheapest place in Hawkins, paid your rent until you could get a job, and even enrolled you into school.

Speaking of which– School was fun….. for the first five days– those five days you'd managed to stay invisible, making sure to not draw attention to yourself. But on the sixth day, you realised that you were behind, classes were hard, neither the students nor the teachers were kind.

So you'd get in fights, and the principal would tell you to call your parents and you would call over Hopper– him being the closest thing to it. Hopper would make you promise that you won't repeat your actions, but you would break that promise too.

Then the year 1983 came and Hopper came across the upside down. He instinctively hid the true story of the missing Byer's kid from you– adamant to keep you away from danger. not knowing that you had always been part of it.

You had taken up a job at a gift shop near melvalds. And were now finally making somewhat of an income to survive but now no longer in as much contact as before with Hopper. You were blissfully unaware of your troublesome past lurking only two steps behind you.

The following year, you somehow got roped into the madness of the upside down. When you found out about Eleven and her powers, and you couldn't lie anymore. You recounted your past with Hopper and the young girl who you shared a similar past with.

Hopper had forced you to stay with the kids at the Byer's house with a boy from your school year. Steve Harrington. You knew Steve, he was given titles like "the hair" or "king". Far more better than the titles you were given.

That night you both stood up against Billy, a rage-filled moron. When Steve was down, and he was closing in on the kids, you decided to step in between– shielding them. You had extended your hand, palm splayed across his chest. While pushing him away, you had tried to use your powers, control his mind, maybe just make him faint– you’d done it before. You had done much worse in the past.

Much to your horror, though– your powers didn't work, they were gone.

as soon as the realisation had hit, there had been a pause. Billy had looked at where your palm touched him and then back to your face. He had smirked.

The situation spiralled out of control. You then helped the kids with their plan sporting a broken left arm and dragging along a very concussed Steve.

At the snowball, hopper told you that he was planning on adopting both you and Eleven. Ecstatic, you dropped Eleven off to Mike so they could have their much earned time. Nancy, to whom you'd talked to once, was sharing a dance with Dustin. And Jonathan clicked everyone's pictures. You had decided it was better you wait outside with Hopper.

On your way out, you noticed a familiar car– looking in closely, you realised that it was Steve– his face no longer covered in scars and bruises. The sudden urge to go over, talk and maybe even thank him for helping you back there with the Billy situation. You looked over to Hopper, as if silently asking for permission to go over to him. After he had given a slight nod, you walked over to the car and knocked on the window. He cranked down the glass.

"Hey”, he smiled.

…

Eleven was out again with Mike. Hopper had left for the station and now you were all alone. No one to talk to. You found it ironic how you'd lived in loneliness almost all your life yet you still weren't used to it.

You didn't even want to bother calling anyone because literally everyone had gotten either a job or internship over the summer– Steve at scoops ahoy, Nancy and Jonathan at the Hawkins Post and- well you didn't have any other friends who were your age.

So here you were, in the quiet of Hopper's cabin– save for the chittering of the squirrel Eleven had named Mr. Fibbly. You were alone with nothing to do so might as well do some sort of chores. After racking your brain for what chore to settle on, you decided– Laundry, it is.

Your mind went on autopilot as you gathered the laundry from your adopted father's and sister's room. As you padded to the room with the washing machine, you felt a disturbance. Come to think of it, you had also felt something the night prior as well.

A headache, it was a much milder version of the headache you felt when you used to use your powers but you had lost your powers almost a year ago. So, you brushed it off as your mind playing tricks on you– which you found hilariously ironic, considering that it used to be you who used to play tricks on the mind.

As you unloaded the laundry basket, you felt something again. This time, it wasn't a headache but it felt as though there was a presence. Your actions stopped as the past year's memories came flooding back. The fear that those things could be back weighed heavily on you. Your heartbeat picked up its speed. You had almost been mauled by those demo-dogs, you were traumatised to say the least.

The whisper of wood creaking reached your ears and your throat went dry. Perhaps what's scarier than being alone is realising that you never were. but you're in the cabin, it's safe here. It's supposed to be safe here.

then you heard it again– another creak. You wanted to run and hide yet you also wanted to look at the intruder but your legs wouldn't budge, as if stuck to the floor.

When you finally managed to move your feet and turn around, you were suddenly engulfed in arms and a scent that you've grown all too familiar with.

"STEVE!", you let out a yelp as you turned around to face him, "YOU ASSHOLE! YOU SCARED THE SHIT OUT OF ME!", you smacked his shoulder as he laughed but then atleast he had the decency to give you a sheepish smile and breathe out a quiet "sorry".

Before you knew it, his lips caught yours, heart still beating loudly against your ribs and lips moving with a rhythm that you'd now gotten used to.

Kissing wasn't really your strongest suit as you'd never really done it before Steve stumbled into your life but you'd gotten a lot of practice in the last seven days.

A smile crept onto your face as he kissed you deeper, his hand held the back of your head. Your hands dropped the shirt that you were holding back in the laundry basket and instead held his jaw as your thumbs rubbed against his cheeks– the skin warm under your fingertips.

"Missed you so much", he mumbled between kisses. Heat crept up your neck as you giggled through the kisses, "you were here yesterday."

"Yeah, so?", he pulled away– not too far though, your noses still touching, "i just wanna be with my favourite person." He planted another small kiss on your lips as if to punctuate his sentence. Another giggle erupted from your throat as he pulled you impossibly closer.

"I thought Dustin was your favourite person"

"Let's not bring Henderson into this, he's barely a person. besides, I'm not interested in kissing him"

Your hands went up to Steve's hair, fingers mindlessly playing with the brown strands that fell on his forehead. "How exactly did you get in?", you asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Same as always– your bedroom window", he said as if it was the most obvious thing.

“You didn't fall again did you?”

“What? No– no, I'm too agile for that”, he paused when you looked at him with raised eyebrows, "who am I kidding? I almost fell. again" he said as his head hung in embarrassment.

"you could've just used the main door– you know no one's home except me", you laughed.

"Where's El?"

"With Mike", you said with a slight scowl, "God, she's with him all the time and they're always swapping spit!"

"Bit like us, isn't it?", He wiggled his brows and you rolled your eyes, "just let her be– she's a kid. Y'know hormones 'n stuff"

"Yeah, I know– it's just– she's barely home and I'm just worried about her, y'know?"

"Yeah, and it's completely okay to be worried", Steve started drawing circles on your shoulder with his fingers perhaps to provide some semblance of comfort, "but you know that she can't always be here right?"

"But I am always here."

"you don't have to be", he frowned and slightly shook his head– looking right in your eyes. This wasn't the first time Steve had mentioned this. He would try to convince you to visit him at the mall, to which you'd mention Hopper's rules and that it was too many people. He would then ask you to come over at his house, since it was always empty, you would again say no– never elaborating.

"But it's like the only place I feel safe, since everything that happened…. Last year", that was only partially a lie. The truth was it was the only place where you had felt safe ever.

"Hey", he held your face in his hands, "those things are gone, okay? Your dad made sure of it." You nodded, choosing not to tell him about the apprehension you've felt in the last couple days– knowing full well that telling him of your anxieties would inadvertently lead to you having to tell him about your now non-existent powers and your past in the lab. The past that you've left behind and have decided to pass off as nothing but a bad dream.

You make a note to maybe tell Hopper or Eleven about all of that though.

A lazy smile adorned Steve's lips as his thumb swiped back and forth on your cheeks. "You look so cute when you're worried", he said with a smirk, as he held your chin with his thumb and forefinger. The smile on your lips grew wide, the corners of your mouth morphing into a suppressed smile. You wanted to say something, your lips even parted to tell him how much you think he's cute and handsome and pretty and how much you were glad that he was there with you but nothing came out. And he didn't need you to. He lifted your chin up to his and you were kissing again– this time more slower and softer than the last.

In that moment, when your bodies were pressed together, you felt like you were in one of those movies that you and Eleven would watch with Hopper on movie nights and then your father would leave around the 30 minute mark, saying that it was too 'awkward'. cheesy rom-coms, that's what he had called them.

Everytime felt better than the last with Steve. As your lips moved in tandem, his arms wrapped tighter than ever around your waist, slightly lifting you off the floor for a second. You gasped into the kiss and your hands slid down from his hair to his chest, laying flat above his heart.

"Steve-" you whispered in between kisses, "Steve I-", he just kept kissing you, "Steve- Harrington!-", you whisper-shouted. The boy let out a hum against your lips, the sound so warm that it was sure to melt you up into warm and happy goo. You almost wanted to give in to him, be engulfed in his scent and warmth while he kissed all your anxieties away. Yet you reluctantly nudged his chest away from yours. Your faces were merely inches away– his warm breath breezed against your cheeks and when your eyes met his, you saw his pupils dilated and lips swollen. His chest heaved a little as he steadied his breath– he was still staring at your lips.

"Steve, I have to do the laundry", you breathed out.

"C'mon you do that like every day", he huffed as he pressed his forehead against yours.

"Yeah, well there's new laundry every day", you begrudgingly moved out of his arms.

"That's preposterous."

"I don't even know what that means", you said with a laugh.

"Neither do I, honestly–", he said with a chuckle, "Dustin used that word and I was like 'I have to use it', so I can fool you into thinking that you actually have a smart boyfriend."

"C'mon you are smart."

"Only to you." He sighed.

“You have to stop talking about yourself like that…. I mean it, Steve." you frowned with a sigh. “You are smart"

"Yeah, that's exactly why I'm scooping ice cream for a job"

"Smartness isn't all about school or marks or jobs or any of that bullshit." You ranted as Steve looked at you with enamoured eyes, "you are smart. You are strong. Last year when everything went to shit, you were the one who made sure of the kids even with a concussion. You looked after them and me. You took Billy Hargrove's beating to make sure the rest of us were okay-"

"That's not what smartness is–"

"-shut up! I don't wanna listen to you putting yourself down." You huffed in frustration, "you protected Dustin, Max and everyone else, you saved me! You make such a huge impact– if it wasn't for you, someone could've died, Steve. But you were there, you made sure that that didn't happen. You aren't weak. And you are a hero. D'you understand?"

Steve nodded, almost dumbfounded as it was probably the most you'd said in one sentence, ever. a faint smile painted itself on his face, his cheeks rosy.

You nodded, “good”, pecked the tip of his nose. you turned around, facing the washing machine– getting back to laundry.

You picked up Hopper’s shirts, checking the pockets in case there were any bills or coins hidden in them– your only form of income. Steve once again tightened his arms around your torso, resting his chin on your shoulder– nuzzling into your neck. His warm breath fanned against your collarbone. “Don’t mind me”, his chest rumbled as he spoke through a smile. You let out a playful sigh and continued your work.

Both of you stayed that way for a while. You checked the pockets of shirts and trousers, separating colours from white just like Hopper had taught you. All the while, Steve landed lazy kisses on your cheek, neck and collarbone. You'd wish you could stay that way forever– so warm, so comfortable, so nice. Maybe it was the fact that it was your first relationship ever and had only now felt safe enough to think of someone in a romantic way but you wanted it to last forever.

Feelings were weird and hard to talk about, and you weren't the best at conveying them. The past week you've wanted nothing more than to tell Hopper and Eleven about yourself and Steve. But your communication skills (or lack thereof) prevented you.

Steve loved watching you just doing normal everyday things, it reminded him of his mother– back when she was around more. So whenever he was not at work or being used as a valet driver by Dustin, he was sneaking over to your cabin. Before you both started dating, he would call you– making sure that Hopper wasn't home and then come barging in with a new cassette tape or to make you try some new ice cream flavour. It took him a couple months to realise that he was essentially looking for excuses to be around you– to feel that lovely and fuzzy feeling that he felt whenever he was with you.

So, eight days prior, he finally built up the courage.

Staring at the wood grain of the cabin door, your favourite ice cream and some flowers in hand, Steve was starting to consider backtracking a little. He really didn't want to mess things up between you two. And as he knocked on your cabin's door, he was contemplating the entire thing but before he could turn around and disappear, the door opened. And there you were, in a plaid shirt that probably belonged to Hopper at some point, hair sticking up in places.

"Steve?"

"H-hey", His cheeks turned pink when your eyes met his and then your gaze trailed down to the flowers and ice cream held out in front of him. The corners of your mouth curving into a smile. That smile– the one he'd couldn't get enough of. "You didn't call today, hopper could've been here”, you said, looking back up at him. he wondered if you could tell how nervous he was.

"Yeah, sorry, I uh- I bought this", he held up the ice cream cup and then the bouquet, "and- and these f- for you", he stuttered as he handed you both. God, whatever happened to the harrington charm?

You let out a giggle as you hugged the flowers close to your chest, "yeah, well duh", you joked, not truly understanding the meaning behind his gesture. It was pretty common for Steve to bring you ice cream anyway, the flowers didn't make sense but then again you weren't the greatest at grasping social cues.

You turned on your heel, socked feet moving toward the kitchen so you could grab a spoon for the ice cream. Steve was still stuck, standing at the doorway, face bright red.

You started rummaging through the drawers in the kitchen to try and find two spoons. When you found them, you held the pair up in the air, one for him to take, “Here,” looking back up at him, you saw that he was already looking at you as if about to say something.

say it.

“You okay?” you asked, brows pulled together.

okay, maybe don't say it.

“Steve? Why do you look so–”

fuck it.

"I like you", Steve blurted out– like he was ripping a bandaid. You stopped in your tracks and stared at him, the easy smile on your face fell. He fucked up, didn't he? He has ruined everything, and now he has lost another friend–

You burst into laughter, “yeah, I know Steve. I like you too." you playfully hit his upper arm before holding up the spoon again, "Here.”

the utensil still stayed in your hand, the deep furrow in his brow hadn't disappeared, only, it grew deeper.

"What?" you asked with an uneasy laugh.

“That not what I… meant”, he paused, "I- I like you."

You blinked, processing it, all that came out was, “oh.”

He calls out your name. He let out a deep breath, you however looked like you had forgotten how to breathe. Steve squeezed his eyes shut, mentally berating himself for being so nervous– it was a first for him.

you looked at him like a deer caught in headlights, he could almost see the cogs and gears turning in your head. after a few seconds you spoke up, “We’re… we’re best friends...” your voice barely a whisper.

Steve swallowed, trying his best not to show any disappointment on his features, nodding slowly before before turning to rush out of the door and get the hell out of there.

“Steve?” he heard behind him and despite his mind telling him to leave, his heart echoed. he swallowed, turning around hesitantly. and there you were, hair still messy, clothes wrinkled as always, hands fidgeting by your sides, you looked as if you were preparing yourself to say something.

You walked towards him and as you stood infront of him, you gulped. but you didn't say anything.

next thing he knew your lips were on his and the moment after it they were gone. it ended as quickly as he felt it.

You looked at him with doe eyes, Steve knew he probably had the stupidest grin on his face. a shy toothy smile grew on your face too. he extended his hand to you, you took it and he realised that you were trembling. He squeezed your hand. His gaze trailed down to your lips, you bit your lips before speaking up in barely above a whisper. "I think... that I like you too."

Steve let out another exacerbated breath as he smiled wider. His face was all red, and his stupid dopey smile that probably looked as though he'd won a lottery.

He murmured your name through bated breath. "Yeah, Steve?"

"Can I- uh- do that again?", His fingers intertwined with yours almost as if to make sure that this was actually happening.

You nodded quickly.

Your eyes fluttered close as he landed a chaste kiss on your lips. Steve made sure that the kiss was light and soft, almost as if dipping his toe to test the waters. And before you knew it, it was already over. He pulled back eyes wandering over your features, looking to make sure that you were okay with this. You looked back up at him with your lips slightly parted– in an unreadable expression.

"You okay?", He asked quietly. You nodded, "yeah, you okay?"

"never better."

...

That was the start of something big, Steve knew that. Although it had only been a week since the incident, he knew he didn't just like you– there was way more. There was care, there was understanding, there was trust and more.

Memories swirled in both your heads while your hands worked on their own accord, still doing the laundry. You picked up Hopper's dirty uniform pants, following the routine of checking the pockets. Then you reached for the shirt of the pair in the basket yet it was nowhere to be seen.

"Hey, Stevie", you piped up and he let out a small hum behind you. "Could you go and get Hopper's shirt from his room?"

"Sure can." He mumbled before pecking your cheek and then he went to Hopper's room to retrieve the shirt. He was back within mere seconds, "here ya go, your highness", he said, handing you the shirt that reeked of way too much sweat, cigarettes and beer.

You continued with the work, taking out the cigarettes from the pocket with a sigh. Hopper had promised that he'd quit smoking so much– guess he broke that promise.

Steve picked up the pack and took one in his mouth, searching for a lighter. You took the cigarette out from between his lips and the pack in his hand and threw it in the trash. "C'mon don't be like Hopper" you said with a frown, "he literally can't stay away from those."

“One smoke wont hurt. Besides I haven't smoked in more than a year now”, Steve said returning to his previous position of holding you, "don't wanna be a bad role model for the kids, I guess."

"Wow, now you really sound like a dad", you let out a chuckle.

"I'm not their dad", he groaned.

"So, mom, huh?"

"I wont kiss you if you keep calling me that", he mumbled behind your ear– a giggle erupting at the ticklish feeling and what was now an inside joke between you two. "Let's just stick with ‘role model’" you nodded.

"I'd say that they look up to you…. Especially Dustin"

".....Y' think so?"

You hummed in response. It didn't take a genius to notice the bond between Dustin and Steve. Sure, it was a bit out of normal to befriend someone five years younger than oneself but then again none of the circumstances they'd been through were normal. And ever since the previous year's events, Steve Harrington and Dustin Henderson had developed a sort of brotherly bond.

"cool", he muttered nonchalantly.

Comfortable silence once again fell between the two of you. Steve drew circles on the exposed skin beneath the hem of your shirt, his fingers leaving sparks along the surface. In all honesty, you wanted to drop all your laundry and just let him hold you, kiss you.

You and Steve had only been together for more than a week at this point– only going as far as kissing. You were still incredibly new to all relationship stuff, so Steve (despite being quite a horndog) had given you plenty of space. The last thing he wanted to do was make you feel uncomfortable or unsafe– and you were grateful for that. However, it was hard to ignore the attraction you both felt for each other. In ways both emotional and physical. Hopper hadn't ever truly given you the birds and bees talk, so you were a little clueless in the process of it all. Yet you knew that you felt something when it came to Steve Harrington. Something that you've never felt before.

You put in the last shirt in the machine, with the detergent and started it. You turned around in Steve's arms as you wrapped yours around his neck.

His hair was short of a mess, but it was still a pretty mess and stray strands bounced against his forehead. You both were so close that you could count all the moles and freckles on his face. Your gaze ran over all his features, taking it all in, engraving it to memory. Because you didn’t want to forget about the slight pinkish hue of his cheeks, the small bump on his nose that might’ve been the result of being hit a few times too many, or his lips. His soft, pink, warm, yet slightly chapped lips. The very same that had been on yours just a bit ago. Your proximity even allowed you to see the scars that the previous years had brought to him, they were small and barely noticeable now but they were there and you wanted to trace them and kiss them all.

“Y’know I would’ve called you creepy for staring so intently, if you weren’t so cute”, Steve smirked.

You tried to hide your face in his chest to hide your embarrassed features. He kissed the top of your head, mumbling a little, “you’re so cute”

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“I was thinking….”, your voice tapered off as you tried to look for the right words.

“Yeah, what were you thinking?”

“Y’know�� Thinking about... us?”

His breath hitched as the worst case scenarios started racing through his mind. Did you want to break up? Did you not feel the same? Were you going to leave? Were you-

"And…. I think that–", you gestured vaguely with your hands, trying your best to convey what you were trying to say without really saying it but Steve's mind was running a million miles a second. You could almost see the gears turning in his brain, and perhaps he was starting to understand what you were saying but still wanted you to say it out loud, "I'm y'know– Ready?"

"Ready for?"

"Y'know! Ready for…", you fidgeted with his hair, your eyes not meeting his, "Sex?"

"Oh." Steve let out a breath of relief as his concerns drifted away.

"If u want to, obviously", you quickly added.

"Oh, I want to but are you sure? We don't have to rush, and we won't do anything unless you're sure of it, you know right?"

"Yeah, I– I know "

"So? Are you sure?"

"I think so, yeah", you mumbled in the most unconvincing way, you really weren’t sure if you were being honest. Steve frowned, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"How 'bout you sit on this idea a bit more, ok? And if and when you're sure then and only then will we do it, ok?"

You nodded, shoulders relaxing. "Can I still get a kiss, though?"

"Of course your highness", he murmured with a smile as he leaned his head to kiss you. Your hands went to his hair again and his went to hold your cheeks. He held you so softly as if you'd break if you were to slip out of his hands. His palms helped in tilting your head sideways so he could kiss you deeper. But before you could continue, there was a knock at the door. You both immediately moved away as a reflex.

"I thought you were going to be alone", Steve ran his fingers through his hair to fix his brown locks.

"It's probably El", you reason while fixing your own hair, "Please hide in my room?"

"But–"

"Steve, if she finds out about us she'll tell Hopper, and I wanna tell him myself please?"

"Ok ok, Jesus."

"Thanks", you mutter before landing a quick kiss on his cheek and then jogging to the front door of the cabin. There you are met with the faces of your little sister and her boyfriend.

“Hey guys! You are–”

“We’re late, we know”, Mike huffed out, annoyed.

“Yeah, so late”, you hadn't even noticed that they were late.

“Are you mad at me?”, Eleven looked at you with such puppy-dog eyes that your heart immediately melted– you could never truly be angry at El. Mike however-

“No, El. I’m not mad, don’t worry”, Eleven grins at you and then hugs you tightly– squeezing you mercilessly. Suddenly, the young girl stills. When she pulled away, you noticed that her eyebrows were knitted together– her eyes were roaming around the cabin as if looking for something.

"What's wrong?"

"There's something– I felt something" she spoke with a cautious tone as she walked to the middle of the room– next to the coffee table– looking for any signs of the upside down, demogorgons or demo-dogs. You weren't the only one traumatized, Eleven perhaps more so than you– not that it was a competition. The girl had single-handedly fought interdimensional monsters multiple times already and she wasn't even fourteen yet. The hair on her hand arose in goosebumps, "there's something in here."

Your mind went back to the previous night and the uneasiness you'd felt. You'd chalked it up to your imagination and anxiety– there's no way they were back– but what if they were? Eleven sure as hell was feeling something and you felt it the night before too– it couldn't be a coincidence. Perhaps Steve Harrington was wrong. Perhaps those things are still out there, waiting for the correct moment to attack– ready to tear you apart, the moment you look away.

Eleven walked towards your rooms, Mike following behind her. The short-haired girl's steps stopped right in front of your room. The same room you'd felt that thing last night. The same room in which Steve was hiding. Steve.

Steve.

Uh oh.

"El– it's probably nothing–", you tried to stop her from discovering your scandalous affair but before you could complete your sentence, the superpowered girl used her powers to open the door wide open. Your gaze darted across the room– no Steve Harrington in sight. "See? told you", a sigh of relief left your lips, he had probably gone out the window, "its nothing."

But Eleven's posture was still stiff, she took careful and cautious steps towards your closet, eyeing the thing as if it was your poor hand-me-downs who she fought against the previous years.

"Eleven–"

Mike shushed you. Eleven moved closer to the closet, she braced her legs and held out her arm, ready to use her powers.

"El–"

Eleven yanked her hand and the doors to the closet flew open and from between your clothes emerged none other than Steve Harrington– in all his messy hair glory. "Woah, woah woah woah!--" His back slammed against the wall and he let out a pained grunt.

"Steve?!" Both Eleven and Mike questioned.

"hey", he whimpered.

"Oh god, are you okay?" You walked over to him, helping him stand up, checking for any bruises or signs of injury.

"What is Steve doing here?" Eleven inquired.

"He's here because.. Because I- I called him" he nodded along to you "I was kinda bored" you added

"And why was he hiding?" Mike interrogated with a cocked brow.

"Well—"

"I wasn't hiding—"

"El, you know how Hopper feels about people visiting the cabin", you fidgeted with the edge of your shirt, "he'd get mad."

Eleven knew. She knew how much convincing it took for Hopper to allow Mike to visit her at the cabin– it took him weeks. So she knew how you felt. "Okay", She nodded. She held Mike's arm and started pulling him to her room.

"Okay– uh— El, D'you need anything to eat or something?"

"Eggos!", she said over her shoulder.

"Soda f'me!", mike shouted back.

"Okay."

El closed the door behind her, let go of Mike's arm as she went to wipe the droplet of blood that was on her upper lip.

"So are (y/n) and Steve like, fucking?" Mike asked with a disgusted look.

"F–fucking?" She repeated, confused.

"Um— you know like…", Mike scratched the back of his neck, "are they dating? Like us?"

"I don't know."

"Cuz I'm pretty sure they are."

"Fucking?"

"uh..... Sure", he was going to regret teaching El that word, most definitely.

...

"I think Wheeler might be onto us."

Steve was sitting on the countertop as you loaded the toaster with eggos.

"Of course he is– of all people—"

"I swear that kid hates me."

"I mean— you are his sister's ex so it's a little bit weird"

"Yeah, I guess"

You walked over to the fridge, taking out the whipped cream, chocolate and candies.

"Oh, am I about to witness the triple decker eggo extravaganza?"

"No. The eggo extravaganza is made specifically by Hop for when El is mad at him. This is the eggo spectacular sandwich", you state while setting down the ingredients, "my recipe!" You added with a proud grin.

"Wow, so I guess eggo is to El, what ice cream is to you?", He suggested with a small smile.

"I suppose."

"I wanna know the secret recipe"

"You can't! It's a secret!"

You both let out a laugh. the radio from Eleven's room started blasting "good old-fashioned loverboy" by Queen. Steve then hopped down form the counter, running his hands through his hair. He stood right beside you on the counter, knocking his hips with your— you returned the action. Giggling at your antics. The brunette boy started singing along to the lyrics. He brought your hand up to his shoulder and held the other one with his. His right hand rested on your back as you danced goofily. He started kissing you.

You pull away when the eggos pop up from the toaster. You quickly assemble two eggo spectacular sandwiches and carry the two plates to Eleven's room. "Oh shit— Steve? Grab the soda for Mike please?"

Steve took out a can of coke from the refrigerator, kicking the door close behind him as he followed behind you.

"And here's your eggo sandwiches!", You announced with enthusiasm.

"Here's your coke, man", Steve muttered without an atom of enthusiasm while tossing the can in Mike's general direction— the black haired boy barely managed to catch it. The boy looked at you and then Steve with narrow eyes as he opened the tab, he maintained eye contact while he took the first couple sips of the fizzy drink. Both you and Steve tried your best to avert your gaze.

"Uh– okay I'll be in the TV room if you guys need me", you uttered awkwardly before pushing yourself and Steve out of the room's confinement.

"God, I swear if Wheeler figures out about us, he will tell Will, Lucas, Max, and Dustin. And that kid won't ever shut up about it", Steve said— rubbing his face in frustration. "And if Hopper finds out about this? I am screwed!"

"Please Hop wouldn't do that", you stated, "and I'm thinking of telling him and El today, anyway."

"Wait, seriously?"

You nodded.

"You think I should be there?"

"No no no, I wanna do it with just them around"

"Oh, okay", he fixed his hair— gaze falling on the wall clock, "Oh, shit I gotta go" he pecked your cheek, "or I'll be late…. Again "

"It wasn't my fault last time and it isn't my fault this time either ", you commented behind him as he picked his jacket up, slinging it over his shoulder. He muttered a quick "bye" before he was out the door— off to the mall, to his job.

You let out a deep sigh— reminiscent of your old deadbeat job you had at the gift shop near Melvald's when you lived in the camp next to the Munson's. Although Jim had gotten you a place to live you still needed money, so you'd gotten yourself a job— wrapping gifts and bouquets for people. It would always flutter your heart when people would tell you and ramble a bit about their lives, then you'd spend hours filling in the gaps— wondering how the day turned out for them. You reckoned it was one of the reasons why you were so infatuated by the idea of love. Up until recently it had been such a familiar yet alienating feeling.

But now here you were! Sure, you were unemployed now, but you had a father, a sister and an amazing and beautiful boyfriend and you weren't alone. But the more you thought about it the more you realised that you were— alone, that is.

You still locked yourself in the cabin, telling yourself that it could be still dangerous— and you weren't willing to take a risk.

It wasn't always like this, there was a time when you would actually go out with Steve— sometimes to his house, sometimes to Dustins, or the arcade or anywhere. But ever since you graduated with Steve, you'd made rules for yourself. You won't leave the house anymore, it was too dangerous anyway. You quit your job because it was shitty and you didn't want people seeing you. And although you'd made those decisions, you still wished for a job, missing all the stories you'd make up about the people who visited you.

You spent the next couple hours going through a cardboard box that was filled up with all things Steve and you. Whether it be the graduation hat you wore, or the beer cans from when you got drunk for the first time, or polaroids of you both, flowers he'd bought you, and everything else that tied you two together.

A couple hours passed by, Jim made his presence known with a knock at the front door. You went up to open the door. And as you looked up at Hopper you noticed the bags and dark circles under his eyes— he looked tired and smelled of beer and cigarettes. "Hey, kid", he muttered through his bushy moustache. You let out a sigh and went in to get him some water.

"El back yet?"

"Yeah", you said giving him the glass, "in her room with Mike", you pointed towards the door with your thumb.

"Wheeler's here?"

"When's he not?" You rolled your eyes. The man handed you the glass back and took off his shoes and went into his room. He emerged out within a few minutes.

"Movie night?", He offered

"But El is with Mike."

"What about just us two, huh? Haven't done that in a while"

You agreed and before you knew it you were Cozied up in a blanket while hopper was on the lazyboy. You both watched a random movie while sharing chips, candy and soda. After about thirty minutes into the movie, you noticed Hopper was distracted, the muffled music from Eleven's room was in fact breaking your immersion too. He shoved a handful of chips in his mouth while downing some beer from the can. You turned your gaze back to the TV screen.

"Hey!" Your eyes averted from the screen to him who was now looking at Eleven's now shut door with seething anger. He got up quickly, shouting, "HEY! Three inch minimum! Leave the door open three inches!" He went for the locked door handle, "El? Open this door", he said with gritted teeth, "Open. This. Door—"

The door opened but El and Mike weren't kissing, they were just reading magazines. "What's wrong?", You tried to hold in your laughter at noticing that Mike was holding his upside down. Hopper clearly noticed too.

"Thank God, you don't have a partner," he said pointing at you, "I can't imagine another stupid, undeserving boy hogging up my child." You bit your tongue at his anger. There went your chance to talk about Steve.

It was 12:30 a.m. and you really didn't feel like sleeping. You'd been feeling the headache, again. You went to the kitchen, heading straight to the fridge— taking out the peanut butter jar and pineapple can. Right when you put a spoonful of the mixture in your mouth the light of the kitchen switched on.

"Why in the hell are you up so late?", Hopper interrogated.

You let out a loud yelp, cringing at the sound— the volume sure to wake up neighbours, if you had any. Through the three inch opening of Eleven's room's door, you could see that the light also turned on.

"What are you doing?", The man asked, tucking his gun in his waist belt— surely he had thought of your midnight snack sounds for an interdimensional monster's sounds.

“Nofhing”, you said through a mouthful.

Hopper had known you since you were fourteen, he knew it might've had something to do with a nightmare. “Did you have another one?”

You stopped mid chew, avoiding his eyes– a tell.

“Same thing?”

Before you could say anything, the door to Eleven's room creaked and the short haired girl slowly stepped out, said hair sticking up as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"Everything okay?", She asked.

"Yeah, El shorry.", You apologised.

"Oh, it's okay," she said with a soft smile.

"It's not okay, what are you doing up so late?"

"I was Exshpanding my taste horizons", you stated, looking at Hopper like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"With peanut butter and pineapple at 12 in the morning?" He asked with narrow eyes.

"Please don't question my methods, Hop. I was hungry and wanted to try something new"

“How's that working out for you?”

“I... haven't decided yet.”

"I want to expand my taste ho- horizons too", Eleven imparted, struggling with the pronunciation of the new word.

"See? El gets me."

"Sure, whatever." Jim waved his hand off, "expand whatever, but you both better be asleep within thirty minutes", he ordered before going back to his room.

"Let's go to my room."

You and Eleven were lying on your bed now, covered in blankets. Much to your dismay Eleven wasn't a big fan of the food combo so you took her remaining portion too. Eleven looked around the room, eyes bouncing from one thing to another. It had dawned on you now that eleven had never been in your room for this long.

She got up from her place and picked up a brown teddy bear with a blue ribbon around its neck that was kept on top of your room's table.

"Oh, you found Mr. Arnold Bearenbearer"

"Arnold, w- what?"

"You can just call him Mr. Arnold", you laughed at the stupid name Hopper had given to the soft toy, "Hop gave it to me the first time I was here. I didn't have a place to live, so he took me in for a few"

"I remember being so scared that the bad men were going to get me or worse", you smile soon faded at the thought of the people from the lab and the amount of fear you had felt. "I'm sure Hop noticed and he gave me Mr. Arnold— I think he belonged to Sarah"

"Sarah? Hopper's daughter?"

You nodded with a hum.

"I don't know what it is about Mr. Arnold. It's like he has powers— just holding him makes you feel so safe"

"Mr. Arnold has powers? Like us?"

"Just like us— he uses his powers to help others who get a little scared or lonely, with a hug!"

Eleven gave the soft toy a tight squeezing hug and she visibly relaxed.

"He smells like you and Steve", she whispered into the fur of the bear.

"Yeah, well, don't tell this to anyone but Steve gets scared sometimes too."

"He does?", She asked with wide eyes as if what you'd told her was the most unbelievable thing.

You hummed "Everybody gets scared every once in a while, it's completely okay too." An image of Steve hugging Mr. Arnold tightly like a scared little boy flashed in your head. How he'd once visited you in the middle of the night with red eyes and disheveled hair-- saying he couldn't sleep because of the nightmares. You'd told Steve about Mr. Arnold and just an hour later he was asleep-- free from all the bad dreams.

Eleven came underneath the blanket with Mr. Arnold snug in her arms. She lied down on her side while you lied on your back. after a moment of settling in, she called out your name softly.

"Yeah?", You turned your head slightly towards her.

"Are…. Are you and Steve fucking?", She asked with the most earnest look.

"... what– what did you say?"

"Fucking?"

"D'you know what that word means?"

"Kissing and dating?"

"Who told you that?" trying your best to not laugh, El was a sensitive girl, you didn't want her to think that you were making fun of her– you could never.

"Mike told me."

"Of course he did", you mumbled to yourself before turning on your side— towards her. "Why don't you ask Mike what that means again tomorrow, huh?"

"Okay", she paused as if making a mental note to do so, "So are you and Steve….."

"Yeah, yeah we are."

"You're like me and Mike?"

"Yep."

"why did you not tell me or Hopper?"

"Steve and I have been together for like a week and I was planning on telling both you and Hopper today— but I don't think now's the right time y'know?"

"You will not tell Hop?"

"I will, I just need some time, okay? you know now, I'll tell hopper soon too, I promise", you really were tired of sneaking around, you wanted Hopper to know. tomorrow- you promise yourself. "Promise you won't tell Hopper till then?" its not like you didn't trust her but she isn't the best at hiding something.

"But friends don't lie."

"I'm not lying El, its keeping a secret. I'll tell him but I want to be the one who tells him. you know how I don't tell Hopper if you sneak off with mike without telling him or something like that–"

"So I don't tell Hopper?"

"Yeah", you looked at her with anticipation.

she looked at you, mulling over it before nodding and saying a whispered, "Okay."

silence settles over the two of you. you were almost asleep when eleven's voice saying your name brought you back to consciousness. "Does Steve kiss you?"

you cleared your throat, heat rushed to your cheeks, "uh, yeah, that's what boyfriends do."

"D'you like it?"

"Sure do."

"I like it too, when mike does it."

You hummed, you weren't really sure how to respond. Both you and Eleven fell silent for a bit. your eyes started drooping again.

you heard the girl say your name again, you hummed, "Yeah, El?"

"I think Steve's nice."

"You think so?", You smiled. she nodded in response, a smile of her own.

"... Do you think Mike is nice?"

"I don't really know him that well, but he seems nice, he really does care for you." you really didn't know how to feel about the boy. he seemed to really care about your sister, but you didn't know why, you didn't trust him. not in a he's-gonna-betray-my-sister kind of way but rather, i-don't-know-if he's-right-for her. but maybe you just needed to give both of them a break, they weren't even fourteen, for god's sake.

Your name was called again, you hummed.

“You're awake because you had a nightmare again, aren't you?” the sleepy smile on your face slipped, you looked at her. she looked at you expectantly.

friends don't lie, “...yeah", your voice came as all but a whisper, before the girl could say anything you quickly added, gaze back at the ceiling, "but i don't feel like talking about it right now.”

"Okay", she said, suppressing a yawn.

"Let's get you to bed okay?"

"Here", she wrapped an arm around your torso and mumbled into the pillow, "I wanna sleep here."

"Okay, 'night kiddo", You put your palm behind her head, playing with her hair, scratching her scalp lightly.

She let out a sleepy hum before breathing out a "'night" herself. You continued carding your fingers through her slightly tangled hair as her soft snores floated in the air— before drifting off to sleep yourself.

Hopper wanted to be resting but he also wanted his two kids to be fast asleep at a reasonable time. he was trying his hardest to be the best father he could be— emphasis on trying. So, thirty minutes after he'd found you in the kitchen, shoving pineapple covered in peanut butter in your mouth, he went to check both your rooms to make sure you both were back in bed.

When he saw Eleven's room empty, he felt the beginnings of anger rising in his head. He then looked through the three inch gap of your room's door and saw both you and Eleven cuddled up and sound asleep. Any amount of anger or worry simmered down as he noticed your calm and serene faces— both your gentle snores muffled by the quilt.

He felt a smile creeping onto his features. He then turned back towards his room— footsteps as quiet as possible and went back to slumber himself.

...

A/n: i hope the time jumps weren't too confusing. if they were let me know! i'll try to explain them <3

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