Afterparty | Sunghoon X F!reader

HE’S THE MAIN CHARACTER

baby came home — n.rk

PROMPT: ‘that gaze–tired, soft, their thumb gently rubbing your cheek, noses touching, silently mumbling an “i love you"’ from list i.

wc: 0.4k genre: fluff/ comfort pairing: bf!riki x gn!reader warnings: none!

🧇: @tyunni​ for u my love. i love u and riki muah i hope u like it.

nishimura riki was a perfectionist. 

weeks into your relationship, you realized how hard the boy was on himself. it worried you, really. you were beyond proud of him for how he is, and you hoped he saw what you saw in him.

so when he came home one day, not his usual happy but tired demeanor, you knew it was one of those days where he just needed words of love, and tight hugs.

“hi riki.” you whisper to him as he walks through the door. he looks tired, he looks disappointed. and you hate that he doesnt believe in himself.

he smiles softly at you, happy that at least youre the one thing right in his life. he throws his arms around you, placing his head in the crook of your neck. you bring your hand up to stroke his hair to comfort him.

you pull away to look at him. you can tell he’s trying to put on a smile for you. 

“i made you something to eat. do you wanna eat now? or do you wanna talk for a while? we can do however you like.” you smile at him, caressing his cheek as he replies, wanting to talk to you about his day. it always made him feel better to talk to you.

the two of you moved to the couch, you keep him close to you, his arms around your waist and his head on your chest.

“how was your day?” you ask him. you dont even need a proper answer to know. pressing a kiss to his forehead, you wait for his reply.

he hesitates.

“it was .. alright i guess. i dont think i did my best today.” you feel the quiver in his voice.

he looks up at you, youre smiling softly at him. You move your hands to cup his cheeks in your palm.

“well, i think you did amazing today. i know i wasnt there to see you, but i know you did well. i’m proud of you riki.”

he lets out one, two, three tears at your words. you hold back your tears, wanting to be strong for him too. you press another kiss to his forehead. “im so very proud of you riki. I love you.”

he looks up at you, his gaze ; tired, his thumb gently rubbing your cheek, noses touching. you close the distance between the two of you, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. when you pull away, he pulls you back in, and you dont complain, molding your lips together gently.

He pulls away, after kissing you one more time, silently mumbling an ‘i love you’ against your lips, before connecting it to yours again.

nishimura riki might not think hes perfect. But you do. and hes more than content with that.

[no more requests please!]

r u mine?

jungwon x reader

genre : slow burn, ceo x secretary, love alarm.

synopsis : once captured by a camera, cupid has shot twice, and shot hard into the core of the hearts of colleagues.

warnings : this may be the cause of u being single (jk) kissing, making out.

this is short, i think.

treacherous your heart was, saying things you never abide too, your mind hindered the truth. that you really, deeply fell.

you were being courted by heeseung, never seeing deeply what was with you, deeming yourself loyal to him in the times of courtship.

but does he know that the one that you ever truly dreamed of being with was your boss, mr. yang jungwon.

it was one long day in the yang company, buying, selling, building. it was then until you realized you left your phone by jungwon's office, switching yours with his instead.

entering the moody room there was a faint smell of coffee and paper. clicking sounds heard seeing the person to cause an action. he raised his head up, glasses reflecting the infrared screen.

"not heading home yet ms. lee?" his voice almost monotonous, queried.

"i was, i switched our phones by mistake" you said heading to his desk swiftly taking your phone and putting back his.

"i'm going to take my leave sir yang" you bowed, heading for the door, only a hand stopping your physique to reach out of the room"

"can you stay—" his statement cut short by the sudden alarm sounds coming from the both of your phones, pink stained screens and heart bubbles fusing into the monitor with bold words included saying 'match found!'

you directly looked at his face surprised, a laugh travelled past your lips as your standing figure weakened. "i wouldn't believe if someone said you had love alarm, but you actually do!" you said grinning.

although it was stupid that you also had one, in your defense it was left untouched and treated unserious, but in contrast with your boss he was consistent, and strict, nothing could've made you loosen up more than now. it eased you up that he probably had been having a hard time finding a partner.

his hand went up to scratch his neck chuckling lowly. "i wont tell anyone" you paused "i'm going now" you smiled at him until you were once again stopped.

"i don't know how long it will take until you realize my advances towards you" his face forming a confused-impatient picture that he delivered with a chuckle.

"i downloaded this stupid app, that i also paid money for to pair us and to make this stupid alarm, just for it to go off on the wrong time" he chuckled airily.

"but jungwon you know i have heese—" you said confused.

"but does he know? that i'm the one you give attention too, the one you look for, the one you truly give attention to? not just in this workplace" he scoffed, hiding his bruised pride.

"you deem yourself loyal to the courtship, yet you give me and continue to let me show you how much i adore you" he stood further pushing you to the wall.

"will he ever know how much i came close to you right at this moment?" he finally said releasing a heavy sigh. his adoration for you trembled as he saw the sincerity in your eyes as the pillars of his love for you only broke to be built stronger than the second that just passed by.

"i guess he will soon have to know on how much i prefer your lips mr. yang" you finally spoke, pulling onto his necktie pulling him into you. your lips colliding into synchronization of hearts.

his lips never felt more divine than this, than any other luxury that went as close to his lips. you, and you only is his luxury in life. your lips spent longer time just to appreciate every crevice of your being, his tongue entering your mouth as you felt his sincerity sucking yours as he moaned into your mouth, he felt immaculate.

you were soon seated on the couch as he slowly moved away from your lips, a string of saliva connecting you both, the lust filled being of jungwon pushing himself into you kissing you again, as if it was the most sensual thing to be done.

you pushed him to flip him into sitting on the couch as your legs placed on each corners of his thighs, your pants grew short from the pressure on the cloth by your knees. you rested on his thighs both of your heads moving as if there was more space to consume into each other.

"god, you're so hot" he said onto your lips. the vibrations went through your body giving you motivation to press yourself flush against him, slowly grinding into him as you suck on his tongue causing him to moan again. "y/n" he moaned into your mouth, his head went loose, his face resting onto your neck, making contact with his lips, "sh-shit i might lose myself baby" he grunted.

you guess heeseung wouldn't have to know that you clearly had a favorite.

I FINALLY POSTED AGAIN!! i missed posting and interacting with you guys. i dont think you would be surprised seeing another jungwon fic from me anm😭

THE RAIN HAS AN EDGE ╰ ﹙ ☁️ ﹚ft. park sunghoon ﹕ a oneshot ﹙ preview ﹚

you are the girl with an umbrella on a rainy day, and sunghoon is the boy at the bus stop drenched from head to toe.

in a nutshell ﹒ there’s a heavy downpour so you hold an umbrella over sunghoon and he looks at you like you’re crazy // 100% fluff

word count ﹒ preview is 1.5k; full ver ~6-7k

fic one of the between the lines series ﹙ coming soon ! ﹚

“true, the sun and the wind inspire. but the rain has an edge. who, after all, dreams of dancing in the dust? or kissing in the bright sun?” — cynthia barnett

now playing ﹒ paris in the rain﹙ lauv ﹚

THE FIRST TIME you talk to park sunghoon, it’s raining, it’s cold, and jake had ditched you to “hang out” with chaewon, because he’s a crappy friend who pounces at any opportunity for female attention.

after your study session in the school library finishes, you find yourself standing at the school’s front entrance, grimacing at the downpour of rain in front of you. heavy pellets pummelled from the sky like bullets, forming puddles in the divots of the ground and lowering the temperature enough to make you shiver. 

lucky for you, you remembered to bring your umbrella.

this was a habit of yours even on the sunniest of days, after spending five days bedridden with a fever following The Great Downpour of 2020.

when you reached for your backpack and unfurled your umbrella, it sprung to life and off you went, hopping down the cement paveway that led to the nearest bus stop.

you’re just about to slip in your earphones when you stop in your tracks, spotting a figure a few steps ahead of you. 

the person is crouching on the ground at the bus stop, hunched over and hugging their bookbag in an attempt at gathering warmth. 

the person is drenched and miserable.

and practically radiating angst and despair.  

because you’ve always been a totally (impulsive) caring and selfless person, you shuffle over and hold your umbrella over the person’s head.

they look up — and just when you encounter a cold gaze, dark brows and raven hair — you realise that the moody figure is none other than park sunghoon.

park sunghoon, the ridiculously good-looking senior everybody whispers about but doesn’t actually know anything about. 

park sunghoon, the guy who always wears a stoic, unsmiling expression that makes him the most unapproachable of his group of friends. 

and park sunghoon, the one who’s staring at you with a baffled and slightly distrustful expression on his face. 

oh.

you’re just standing here, staring at him like a creep. 

crap.

you should say something.

you open and shut your mouth a few times, trying to brainstorm what you might possibly say. you want to sound smart. and funny. and cool. so, naturally, the first thing that comes out of your mouth is a very intelligent and super profound, “it’s, uh. . . raining.”

sunghoon continues to stare, his brows slightly furrowed to suggest he was questioning your sanity. 

“it’s raining,” you stupidly repeat louder, as though he hadn’t heard you over the rain. 

“good catch,” he replies, his gruff voice coinciding with the slight dip of his lips. 

the rumors are so true. 

sunghoon definitely has a very grumpy, rather angsty demeanour. you’ve actually spotted him around school a few times (you may or may not follow him with your eyes every time he’s around. is that a crime? it can’t be! you’re not the only one in the student body who finds him extremely attractive and painfully enigmatic), but he’s not the kind of person you can approach so easily.

in fact, he’s been coined the nickname ice prince for a reason.

“yes, uh,” you struggle to string together a coherent set of words, especially because he stands to his feet now, and you have to make the effort to not be intimidated by his height. 

“what i meant to say is that it’s raining but you don’t have an umbrella,” you laughed awkwardly, wanting to whack your head and yell stupid, stupid, stupid for impulsively waddling over here and saying stupid things to park sunghoon of all people. “i-i mean, obviously it’s a free country and you can totally do whatever you want, but, as you might already know — and i’m sure you do because you’re one of the smartest kids in school — standing in the rain can get you sick, like, really sick, and i only know this because about three years ago i forgot my umbrella and — funny story — i ended up getting so sick that i had to take five days off school because my fever was so high.”

oh god.

you quickly slap the tips of your fingers over your lips to physically restrain yourself from talking. the motion makes sunghoon’s gaze quickly flit to your lips, before they bounce back up to your eyes.

his stare is so painfully emotionless that you cringe inwardly.

you wish he’d say something.

anything. literally anything.

but he’s silent.

well, of course he is — you basically just trauma dumped about your stupid fever story. boo-hoo, you were sick from the rain — who cares?

just when you think you’ve reached the death of the conversation, you’re surprised by the sound of his soft voice.

“. . . niki.”

huh?

you blink, leaning in slightly so that you can hear him better.

“. . . niki. my brother. he took the last umbrella.”

oh.

your lips form a small o as you nod in understanding. “oh, niki! that doesn’t surprise me. he’s in my class, you know, and he’s always playing pranks on our teacher. one time he actually hid the test papers so we got a whole extra day to study,” your voice lowers to a whisper, “can’t believe i still failed it though. . .”

sunghoon doesn’t say anything, and afraid of being submerged in awkward silence again, you rush to fill in the space. 

“so where’s niki now?”

he shrugs. “soccer practice, probably.”

“oh,” you frown. “wait, aren’t you part of the soccer team, too? you’re the goalie. you saved so many goals last season and helped the team to their first win in two years,” you say, though your eyes widen in panic as soon the words leave your mouth, “n-not that i’m a stalker, or anything,” you frantically add, “it’s just that everyone knows you’re the goalie because one, it’s common knowledge, and two, the game is coming up and we’re all on the edge of our seats to find out how it goes!” 

stupid stupid stupid. 

why are you rambling so much? 

sunghoon doesn’t seem to mind, though his lips flatten in a rather sour manner. “i quit the team, actually.”

you gasp. “you’re the person jake is replacing? he’s been so cocky ever since it was announced that he’d be on the team. what made you quit?”

he shrugs, “it got boring,” he mumbles, then his ears turn slightly red and he dips his head in an emotion you never imagined park sunghoon could wear — embarrassment. “and i accidentally sprained my ankle.”

you blinked in surprise. “how?”

he hesitates before answering. “i tripped.” 

you stifle a laugh at the irony, because while sunghoon was a lot of adjectives — tall, handsome, mysterious, brooding, kind of scary, even — you never thought he was clumsy.

you softly cackle, earning you a glare from the boy. 

“sorry,” you grin playfully, growing accustomed to his icy aura. “i just never pictured you as a klutz.”

“says you,” he grumbles, “weren’t you the one who tripped and fell in the cafeteria last week? ”

“what—” you choked, “you saw that?”

he exhaled through his nose in amusement. “who didn’t?” sunghoon raised a brow at you. “i’m pretty sure someone recorded and posted it. the caption was ‘dumbass fails to do simple task and ends up with food all over her clothes.’”

your eyes slammed shut before they shot open. “fucking jake,” you growled, gripping the umbrella tightly. “i’m going to kill him.”

sunghoon chuckled, and the sound made your heart beat a little faster. you caught a fleeting glimpse of his smile which — by the way — showcased the most emotion you had ever seen from the boy. it couldn’t be helped that your stomach mangled and twisted at his pearly-white boyish smile, one that made his cheeks bunch up his face and his eyes twinkle like stars.

how pretty.

his smile faded as quickly as it appeared, however, and you soon found yourself facing his usual blank expression again. 

you want to try say something that might make him smile or laugh again, but he suddenly steps outside of the cage of your umbrella and raises his hand, hailing down the incoming bus. 

it slowly stops by the road beside the two of you, marking the end of your little interaction. 

“oh, your bus is here,” you force a smile, rather disappointed. “i’ll, um, see you later, sunghoon.”

“get home safe,” he retrieves his bus card from his pocket, glancing over his shoulder before he boards his bus. “and thanks. for the umbrella.” 

“n-no problem!” you quickly smile, “and by the way, my name is—”

“i know your name,” he interjects, and you think your mind is playing tricks on you when you see the edges of his lips twitch upward. “see you around.” 

sunghoon disappears into the bus and it whizzes by you, though you stay frozen in your feet for what feels like forever. 

he knows your name.

he’ll see you around.

you tuck your lip between your teeth, cheeks and ears flaring up.

get home safe.

if that’s what he truly wants, then yes — you think you can manage that.

( to be continued )

this is a preview only ﹒ full fic is estimated 6-7k ﹒ taglist open — send an ask, dm, or reply !

a/n . btw this is a preview only. the full fic might come out next week ? anyway my first hoonie fic and it's 100% pure, unadulterated fluff <3 this is inspired by paris in the rain + the above quote + an exo fic i adore ^^ hope u all liked it :) see u in the full version maybe ? 🤓

Diana and Acteon pas de deux

Vaganova Ballet Academy Graduation Performance 2014

Renata Shakirova and Alisher Kalibay

[7:04pm] jake x afab!reader

"shut up, everyone can fucking hear you," jake snapped into your ear, his fingers at a relentless pace inside you.

you bit your lip hard, glancing around the table as the rest of your friends engaged in conversation. jake had been talking to sunghoon before he turned his attention to you, pushing a third finger alongside his others as he fucked you onto his hand.

heeseung caught your eye across the table, raising one eyebrow at you. you tried to smile back, letting out a gentle gasp as jake pushed harder against you with each thrust.

"stop looking at heeseung," he whispered. "should only be focusing on me."

you nodded weakly, breaking eye contact with heeseung to look up at jake. his eyes were harsh, fingers not once slowing as you leaked arousal all over them and onto the fabric of the seat below you.

if the restaurant wasn't so noisy then everyone would've heard the whine you let out, turning your body towards jake and winding your own fingers into his shirt. you felt eyes on you but you couldn't find it in you to care, all you could think about was how close you were to coming all over your best friends hand.

"you ok y/n?" heeseung called from across the table, gathering the attention of a few others, "you look a little flushed."

you didn't release your grip on jake's shirt, instead you pushed your forehead against his chest and held him closer as he pressed a thumb to your clit, bringing you right to the edge and holding you there.

jake bought his free hand up, stroking your hair gently as you tried to hide your flushed cheeks against him, "I think she's feeling a little unwell, right y/n?"

you nodded, squeezing your eyes tight as your orgasm started to wash over you. you didn't even think about the others in the room, instead mumbling jake's name over and over as he coaxed you through your high, small praises leaving his lips.

"good girl y/n, cum all over my fingers baby," you were really fucking glad no one could hear the words leaving your friends mouth as he slowed down the pace of his fingers, letting your orgasm fade away before fully removing his hand from your cunt.

you took a deep breathe, spending a few seconds to collect yourself before you removed your face from his chest. you looked up at him, catching his gaze as he gave you a soft smile, a completely different person to the one who ripped an orgasm from you moments before. jake leant down, kissing your forehead softly and placing his hand on your thigh, you tried to ignore the feel of your release coating his fingers.

looking around at the rest of the table, you noticed heeseung still staring at you, eyes wide and curious. you blushed under his gaze, a wink being thrown your way and the sound of jake laughing next to you told you that heeseung was well aware of what had just happened right in front of him. not that he was mad about it or anything, he enjoyed the show.

LET THE BEST PLAYER WIN.

pairing: tennisplayer!sunghoon x film major!fem!reader

summary: everybody knew park sunghoon, the tennis player at harvard that was most likely going to go pro as soon as he graduated. determined to get closer to him to gather videos for her final, film student nishimura yn tries to find out more about the infamous tennis player everybody seemed to talk about.

warnings: mentions of excessive drinking and smoking (please don’t do any, your bodies are precious 🙏), they’re both lowk bad people LOL, nonconsensual filming (not sexually)

“Whoa there,” you say, camera loosely hanging around your neck as you watch Park Sunghoon slam his racket on the floor till the strings popped out.

“What?!” He screamed, eyes practically bulging out of their sockets. He takes a deep breath, realizing that he has too much of a reputation to lose it over too little of frustration.

“Hey, don’t mind me.” You lift your hands in surrender, “just gotta film something for my final, you know.”

“Film major?” Sunghoon scoffs, throwing his now broken racket to the side as he shuffles through his gym bag for another. “Funny.”

“Very funny,” you shrug. “When I get into a big studio and start making films that blows up Hollywood, Park.”

“I’m just saying,” Sunghoon doesn’t look at you, instead focusing on his footwork. “You got into Harvard and you’re doing film?”

“You got into Harvard by doing tennis.” You snark back. “I think we’re on the same page.”

Sunghoon laughs, and it’s the first time you’ve ever heard such thing from the boy. The only things you do hear is his groans of frustration and grunts as he hits the ball back and forth.

“Not bad,” he compliments you, finally deciding to turn over. “Want to get beer tonight?”

“I thought athletes don’t drink?” You sit up straight from your previous position on one of the plastic chairs placed near the players that oversaw the whole tennis court.

“Pft, which liar told you that?” Sunghoon packs away his things, and despite having played for 3 hours, he still looks as good as ever. “How do you think I keep sane in tennis? Medication? Fuck no.”

For the first time, you see a glint in Sunghoon’s eyes, one that wasn’t the competitive glint he wore like a blood sucking cheetah every tournament.

By the end of the night, you realize that Park Sunghoon can really drink.

He’s downed 6 shots already, but his face is still as bright as ever. In fact, he asks for three more.

“The adrenaline is similar to playing tennis.” He says with his oh so cheeky smile.

As soon as the server passes Sunghoon his drinks, he wraps one arm around your shoulder, cheering, “to Nishimura Y/N, the film major at Harvard!”

You laugh, pointing your camera at his smiling face. He’s too drunk to notice you recording, swaying you side to side as the alcohol consumes his living thoughts.

🎾 ⊹ ‧

You’re pleasantly surprised when Park Sunghoon invites you to one of his matches. It’s not a state competition—but it’s his competition that he invited you to nonetheless.

Your eyes rush back and forth from Sunghoon to his opponent, the ball stroke faster and faster until your head starts hurting from cranking too close. It was a match against Stanford, Sunghoon was playing against a girl named Kelsley Aptos, who was stunning enough to make your film pop.

You cracked your neck before taking out your camera, recording the two competing. As soon as Kelsley misses the ball, you stop filming, standing up to applaud Sunghoon.

The girl isn’t happy, in fact, she’s almost furious with the way her lip twitches. But she does as any good sport would do, shake Sunghoon’s hand and tell him good game.

“I like your skirt,” Sunghoon tells her, licking his lips which were now dry from all the playing. “It’s pretty.”

“Well thanks Park,” she replies. “I like your stance.”

You’ll never understand the way athletes compliment each other—and hell you probably never will since you’ve practically signed your life to the film industry.

He grins, then makes his way to you. “You see how I beat Aptos? She was great, stunning.”

You don’t know why your stomach churns at the way he describes her. Was it jealousy? It couldn’t be; you barely knew Sunghoon, so why the hell were you genuinely upset over him calling Kelsley Aptos stunning?

“C’mon,” he draws you to his side, way too close for two people who’ve only gotten to know each other in the span of two days. “I believe we have to celebrate with drinks.”

🎾 ⊹ ‧

If there’s one thing about Park Sunghoon that you’re utterly confused by is his lack of self control.

On the court, he’s insane, unbeatable, practically a God in the world of tennis. But after tennis, after the matches, he’s chugging down as many alcoholic beverages as he can take, which is far too many a person—much less a college athlete—should inhale.

Sunghoon liked it though. He liked the way the liquor burned as it went down his throat, he liked the way it cooled in his body and how lightheaded he felt everytime he’d drink. When he wasn’t drinking, he was smoking.

You two were perched on lawn chairs, on opposite ends of each other. The chairs oversaw the beach near Harvard, and you could hear the whoosh of the waves as it drew closer.

“Your coach would kill you,” you said, grinning as you watched him inhale the cigarette. He’s not sober, clearly, but his stamina is good enough that he could make out his surroundings and conversations.

“He totally would.”

You perch your camera up on your knee, secretly recording Sunghoon as he leaned his head against the chair. Although he claims he’s so out of it, he looks so beautiful.

“Will you teach me tennis one day, Park?”

He lifts his head up slightly, eyes making direct contact with yours. “Will you teach me film?”

You nod, and he does too.

“Then it’s a deal Nishimura.”

🎾 ⊹ ‧

Sunghoon is a bad influence.

You can tell now that you’ve known him for a month and by the way he drags you into parties, your little camera still dangling around your neck like it was engraved there.

“You know what they would say if they saw Harvard’s precious athlete partying his ass off on a Wednesday night?” Sunghoon yells over the music.

“What?” You yell back.

“How preposterous!”

The two of you giggle loudly at that, bodies so close to each other that it looks like you’re making out to anyone who wasn’t closely paying attention.

“Hey Y/N,” he says, and as you look up, his eyes are already meeting yours. “I like you a lot.”

You smile at that, letting Sunghoon lean in and kiss you right there and then.

It just felt right. So right. Like a missing piece of a puzzle was finally discovered.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

“Yes.”

🎾 ⊹ ‧

It feels like you’re discovering a new piece of Park Sunghoon everyday as you get to know more of him.

He was no longer Harvard star tennis player Park Sunghoon, but your boyfriend Park Sunghoon.

It felt weird, but giddy. Girls who had thrown themselves on him before backed off with fury, wondering why a random film student of all people got with their beloved athlete.

You don’t mind that Sunghoon loves tennis, you really don’t. You know he wants to go pro, it’s all he’s ever talked about on your dates and calls.

“I’m gonna make it to the Olympics.” He says. “You’ll see.”

“I’m sure I will Hoonie.”

What you do mind is the fact that Sunghoon loves tennis too much. His fixation with the sport concerns you, but that’s just what happens when you’ve been playing since you were 3, isn’t it? The sport becomes one with you.

“Park Sunghoon! How was your match?” The interviewer asks, shoving his microphone into Sunghoon’s face.

“Oh it was great man, lovely weather.”

“Mhm, a great warm glow over Boston today! Have you always loved tennis this much?”

“Yes, honestly, tennis is my number one. It’s the reason I breathe and live today.”

He doesn’t mention anything about you when asked about what he loved. He never did. It was always the same thing.

Tennis, tennis, tennis.

If you hadn’t seen the red flags that were ringing before, you clearly were now.

“Are you seriously upset I didn’t mention you in my interview?” Sunghoon asks, biting into his apple angrily.

“Yes! It’d be nice for you to mention me once in your interview but you never do! It’s always the same bullshit Hoon!”

“I love tennis, why can’t I talk about it? It’s what the people want! They watch me for tennis, they don’t watch me for some stupid relationship.”

“Oh, so this is relationship is stupid to you now?”

“You’re twisting my words and you fucking know it.”

You and Sunghoon haven’t talked in over a week. All because you had practically begged him just to talk about you once. Was it so hard for him to show appreciation to his own girlfriend?

It didn’t help when you went to try and visit him on the court, practicing what you were going to say. He was already too engrossed in his conversation with Kelsley Aptos, their proximity dangerously close.

Fine. You think. If Park Sunghoon wants to play this way, we can fucking play it this way.

The next thing you knew, the headlines were filled with PARK SUNGHOON, HARVARD STAR ATHLETE CAUGHT EXCESSIVELY DRINKING AND SMOKING, blaring all over Boston, with the clips from your camera being right on the front page.

You know what we love in this house

Arms 🫶🏼

꒰ 12:17 A.M. ꒱ ❛ drunk!aomine daiki x reader ༉‧₊˚✧

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊 at your phone screen, adjusting to the light coming of it in your dark bedroom, swiping the answer phone button. when you receive a drawled, “hey dummy,” whatever tiredness you were feeling moments prior is suddenly gone.

immediately, you can tell the man on the other end not sober. you smile at your friend’s deep tone. “hey stupid,” you greet back in amusement. “you still out with the guys?”

at your question, aomine seems to grumble under his breath, making laughter bubble in your throat.

“that bad, hm?”

“nah, nah.” in between his word’s there’s a slight muffle, probably from him rubbing a hand over his face. “we had a lot and half o’ them are annoying drunk. so i escaped.”

“escaped? where to? the bar’s bathroom?”

“no,” aomine answers your teasing tone with a clipped remark. “i’m in the back by the pool tables.” there’s a pause before a thoughtful, “you suck at pool.”

you nod grimly, though he can’t see. “always an honest one. you can’t just once sugar coat an answer?”

“sugar coating is for loser, loser.”

nice to know he’s still just as insulting while under the influence. still, you smile at his words.

“alright well, the boy’s’ll be searching for you soon,” you say, recalling kise’s character and guessing he was a few minutes away from gathering an aominecchi search party. “thanks for the check in. get home safe, okay?”

“wait, don’t hang up so soon,” aomine grunts and you can just imagine the deep(er) furrow of his brows as his mouth lifts into a frown. “still wanna talk to you.”

“i am your most interesting friend albeit a dummy, aren’t I?” you ask, confident sigh leaving your lips. a yawn escapes you as you switch on the bedside lamp next to you, further squinting at the sudden contrast of light. he doesn’t answer your question, and if it weren’t for the buzzing background noise of the bar across the line, you’d think he hung up. “aomine-?”

“don’t make me say it.”

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