#I'd have more to say but it would never come out the right way

[folksyswift]

We hereby conduct this post-mortem… Knew he was a killer first time that I saw him. If I bleed you’ll be the last to know. I feel like I might sink and drown and die. What doesn't kill me makes me want you more. My broken bones are mending from all these nights we’re spending. Do I really have to tell you how he brought me back to life? I can't let you go, your handprints on my soul. Your love is a secret I'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep. My one and only, my lifeline. Remember how I said I'd die for you? Combat, I'm ready for combat. Threw out our cloaks and our daggers 'cause saying goodbye is death by a thousand cuts but I would die for you in secret. You fire off missiles 'cause you hate yourself but do you know you're demolishing me? I am ash from your fire. Break my soul in two looking for you but you're right here. "It only hurts this much right now" was what I was thinkin' the whole time. You assume I'm fine, and you don't really read into my melancholia. My depression works the graveyard shift. All my mornings are Mondays stuck in an endless February. In the shade of how he was feeling. Catastrophic blues, my sadness is contagious. I know my pain is such an imposition. I dream of crackin' locks, throwin' my life to the wolves or the ocean rocks. Make it make some sense why the wound is still bleedin' and I'm fadin'. Just how low did you think I'd go 'fore I'd self-implode? My spine split from carrying us up the hill and all I did was bleed as I tried to be the bravest soldier. I'm getting tired even for a phoenix, always risin' from the ashes, mendin' all the gashes. Wet through my clothes, weary bones caught the chill. My face was gray, but you wouldn't admit that we were sick til we were too far gone to bring back to life. I can't find a pulse, my heart won't start anymore for you. I stopped CPR, after all, it's no use the spirit was gone, we would never come to. Our maladies were such we could not cure them. Two graves, one gun. Say it once again with feeling how the death rattle breathing silenced as the soul was leaving. The deflation of our dreaming leaving me bereft and reeling. My beloved ghost and me, sitting in a tree D-Y-I-N-G. You know there's many different ways that you can kill the one you love. The slowest way is never loving them enough.

[blessedbucky]

ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕏𝕀

pairing: autistic!satoru x suguru x autistic!reader

word count: 16.7k (yapper of the year right here!)

summary: your first date with Satoru and onward

tags: autistic!reader, autistic!satoru, FLUFF! ROMANCE! with a lil bit of seriousness sprinkled here and there; two new guests join the cast! you'll never guess who they are; more awkward first times because not me having reader take suguru and satoru's virginities lol; giggly and sappy sex!

beautiful people who asked to be tagged 💕: @ichikanu, @iceheartsice, @anders-is-being-a-simp-again, @lexlibrary, @ziggy0stardust

author note: i've completely given up and accepted that i'm gonna do this year by year until the prologue/present which is 2012. it might be a little while before the next chapter because i promised myself and my MCU girlies that i'd get out the next chapter of my MCU trio story after i posted this. just as a reminder that you're more than welcome to send me messages on here, headcanons, questions, and prompts that maybe i can get to. feed my praise kink with reblogs and comments and likes please and thank ❤️

Story Masterlist

[2009]

“Things might be a little awkward when Satoru comes over,” you warn Suguru when Nanako and Mimiko are out of earshot. The three of them are helping you unpack things. Well, Suguru is. The girls are in the second bedroom with tape, their drawings, and other little knickknacks. You warned them that Tsumiki and Megumi would be sharing it, too, and potentially decorating it with their own things, but that didn’t deter the twins whatsoever.

Suguru, folding your clothes the way you like, stops to stare at you with wide, horrified eyes. “Oh, no. Did you reject him?”

“No, of course I didn’t! I said yes!” A minute passes, your brain processes, and you narrow your eyes at him. “Wait. Did you know he was going to ask me out on a date? How long has he been planning this?”

“I started actively encouraging him to go for it since that marriage proposal, but who knows how long he’s been wanting to do it before then.” Something about how…casually Suguru speaks about this…stings a little. It shouldn’t…right? What’s causing this twisting in your chest? “Don’t make that face at me. I think we were allowed to keep this one thing a secret from you.”

Right. Right, yeah, that’s what it is, isn’t it? You feel left out. That…still doesn’t feel right, but what else would it be? Suguru knows you better than yourself, sometimes. He’s always been able to put into words what you’re feeling. “I’m shocked he didn’t do it immediately after the proposal,” you say while trying to laugh off your discomfort. “You know Naoya set the date as his birthday on purpose.”

Suguru sighs wistfully. “I really wish I mauled that asshole with a curse when I had the chance.”

“Suguru,” you try to scold but end up giggling instead. “Don’t waste a good curse on that guy. Besides, turning down the proposal through a letter was more poetic, I think.”

“More offensive, you mean,” Suguru corrects with a smug smirk. “I’m so proud of you for standing your ground like that against your parents and those arrogant assholes.”

“I’m shocked they didn’t make some backroom deal behind my back, honestly.”

“I know this probably isn’t something you want to hear, but you get your stubbornness from your father. Satoru really dealt a huge blow to his ego with that implication that they were only in it for the money. He didn’t want to prove Satoru right,” Suguru hypothesizes.

You pause in your unpacking, blinking in disbelief because…he’s right. “That makes sense, actually,” you mumble. “Wow. It’s crazy how well you know my family.”

“It goes both ways. I overheard you and your mother, y’know.”

You stiffen before trying to relax your body in feigned nonchalance. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Suguru laughs. “You don’t have to pretend. I’m not upset.” You sigh in relief, immediately dropping your bravado. “You fold so easy, Squid,” he snickers. You throw a pair of pants at him, but he easily catches them. “I’m honestly not sure what I would’ve said to her if she asked me.”

The conversation in question had been when your parents stopped by at campus one more time before they went back to your hometown. Before he stalked off to talk with Satoru and Suguru, your father explained that he told the Zen’in clan you’d make your own decision and inform the clan in due time.

Privately, your mother told you that Suguru’s own parents had been over to your childhood home more and more frequently, practically begging your mother to get Suguru’s phone number from you so they could talk to him. Suguru’s mother had an accident in the field and can’t work. They’re on harder times than ever and your mother said that it would really cheer them up to hear from Suguru.

And like Suguru said, you know his parents as well as he knows yours. You saw through the bullshit but gave your mother the benefit of the doubt—even though she’s even bigger than your father on the belief that children should be responsible for taking care of their parents, no matter what.

So, they’re in trouble and need Suguru to bail them out, you translated when she was done with the sob story. You had absolutely zero sympathy for them. If he wants to talk to them, he knows how. You’d gotten petty with her, then. I’m not getting involved and you shouldn’t want to, either. That’s what you taught me, isn’t it? We don’t want to poke our noses in the business of other families.

“That’s stupid, isn’t it?” Suguru asks with a bitter smile. “Why would I say anything other than no? Last year, they were one of the first ones that I thought about…seeing…after we found Nanako and Mimiko…”

Seeing, he says, but he means killing, doesn’t he? You can’t say you blame him. If you’d had better control over your technique when you were younger, you’re not sure what you would’ve coerced spirits into doing to his parents. “I don’t think that’s silly,” you tell him honestly after thinking about it for a minute or two. “If Satoru didn’t step in, I was about to let my parents walk all over me. And…I don’t know…it’s complicated.” You sigh in aggravation over not being able to find the right feeling. “Maybe it’s just me, but you always want to try and see the best in people, especially your parents.”

“It might be just you. Maybe. I don’t think there’s much good to be seen in them. But I…they always make me feel small. Just your mother mentioning them made me feel that way. Your father wasn’t helping, either.”

Ah. That reminds you of something you forgot to ask. “What did he want with you?”

“I’m not sure it was me he even wanted. He probably wanted to lecture Satoru, but after he gave Satoru his card back, Satoru wouldn’t let him get a word in. I never thought I would see the day that the Gojo Satoru would have enough of a moral high ground to give someone else a lecture, but here we are.”

“No wonder he was so pissy when he came to collect mother…”

“Satoru’s protective, isn’t he?” Suguru ducks his head, smiling softly as he says that. It’s tinged with something, though.

“Why are you upset, Suguru?” It’s bitterness. Maybe sadness. His eyes widen, so you know you’re right. “Is it because you didn’t say something? You know you don’t have to feel guilty about that,” you rush to assure him. “You know the rule. Satoru doesn’t. Just because we’re technically adults now doesn’t mean our parents can’t still make our lives difficult. Mine, anyway. My father’s probably going to give me an earful when his pride has recovered a little.”

“It’s…a little bit of that,” Suguru says after a beat. It feels like a lie, though. His smile is still strained and it’s not reaching his eyes. “I wish I could protect you like Satoru can.”

“You do,” you insist.

“That’s why I told him to finally confess.” Suguru completely ignores your comment. “Satoru is as good for you as you are for him. He understands you in a way that I’ll never be able to.” You start shaking your head which makes him barrel on. “It’s the difference between sympathy and empathy. I’ll always be sympathetic for you, I can know your moods and the things you love and hate, but only Satoru can truly empathize with you.” He looks at you, expression softening, and rushes over to take you in his arms. “Squid, don’t look so devastated.”

You lift your arms up between your bodies, trying to wipe away the tears that are welling up in your eyes. “I don’t want you to feel left out.”

“You’re so silly. I’ve never felt like that before, I’m not going to start now.” You press your forehead against his chest, sniffling and trying to calm down before you really get going. “All I’m trying to say is that I want my two most favorite people to be happy and taken care of and I think the best person to do that for them is each other.”

“When you say that it makes it sound like you’re leaving us alone,” you admit.

“The way I feel about you two isn’t going to change, trust me.” He keeps rubbing your back soothingly. “This isn’t the right time, but this is really reassuring for me, y’know.” You tilt your head up, digging your chin against his chest, blinking up at him with watery eyes. He grins shyly. “I know I’m never going to be left behind.”

“Never,” you promise. “You’re our favorite person, too.”

Suguru cups your cheek, sighing softly. “You’re too sweet for someone like me, Squid.”

You miss his touch when he goes.

Date Day arrives.

You still haven’t decided on what the fuck you’re going to wear.

Shoko, who is way too invested in your love life, comes to your rescue, bright and early. The visit is disguised as helping you finish unpacking and settling into your new apartment, but it’s bullshit. She knows that you know it’s bullshit. First of all, she knows it’s Date Day. Secondly, the moment you shut the door behind her, she manhandles you back to the bedroom to help with your hair.

“There’s no need to do all this,” you mumble petulantly while watching both your reflections in the mirror she has you seated in front of. The previous tenant left one of those floor length mirrors on the back of the door. You’re cross-legged on the tatami mat with her on her knees behind you. “It’s just Satoru.”

“Oh yeah?” Shoko pointedly moves her gaze to the reflection of your bed and the clothes strewn across it. “If that’s the case, why are you so worried about your outfit?”

You harrumph and turn your head away, not wanting to admit she’s right. Only half-right, though! Because, in your head, there’s this pendulum that continually swings between this is just like any other normal day with Satoru and this is absolutely not a normal day with Satoru because he likes me, and this is a date. Giddiness and nervousness had you tossing and turning the whole night through. You’re desperately trying not to overthink everything and you’re proud to say that it’s mostly working.

“I don’t even know why you’re so excited about this,” you say as a deflection.

Shoko puts her hands on your temples, forcing your head back to position, before continuing with your hair. “I can’t be happy for my best friend?” You drop your eyes down to your lap, fiddling with the hem of your shirt, but it doesn’t stop the happy flutter in your tummy at being acknowledged as her best friend. It always does that when Shoko says best friend. You’d think you’d be over the novelty by now. “And I need to keep rubbing it in your face that I was right. The only thing as big as his ego is the crush he’s had on you. It’s been four years of pining, Duck.”

“It hasn’t been that long!” After a second of thinking, you doubt yourself. Clearly, you haven’t noticed the signs and were totally blindsided by his confession. Hesitantly, you ask, “…has it really?”

She laughs. “Yes, really. Halfway through second year, I started a betting pool on who’d confess first. Even Sensei put money down on it, but he made me swear to never tell anyone else.”

“You’re literally telling someone right now—” your brain finally catches up on what she just said, and you start sputtering. “Stop using my love life to make money!”

“Consider it financial compensation for all the ridiculous romantic tension.”

Where’s mine for the tension between you and Utahime, you think but refuse to speak aloud. The tension between them was so horribly awkward at graduation. Even Satoru didn’t pester Utahime like he usually does…but he might’ve been too nervous to do that with the planned confession and all. Anyway, Shoko remains resolute in her resolve to keep Utahime distant—not for a lack of trying on Utahime’s part to bridge the divide.   

There’s some hope yet, though. Utahime brought gifts for you and Shoko. Yours was a set of new sketching pencils. Shoko’s was a new lighter. Shoko didn’t outright reject it. Instead, she left it behind in a classroom. You’d found Utahime with it, tears in her eyes and looking so miserable, so you took matters into your own hands. You pointedly left it by her pack of cigarettes when she was moving into her new apartment.

It’s the only lighter that Shoko uses now.

“Hair’s done,” Shoko announces. You awe over her work, careful not to touch it for fear of messing it up. She shoots you a smug smirk in the mirror. “I’m gonna go two-for-two and find you an outfit.”

Find you an outfit she does.

You swing your arms from side-to-side, watching as the pleats of your black pinafore dress swish with the movement. You’re wearing a simple long-sleeved white shirt under it. There’s even a cute little bow at the waist. It’s been sitting in the back of your closet ever since you got it back during your second year. You’d bought it during a shopping spree with Utahime in Kyoto. Your brain hasn’t let you wear it because you haven’t had any occasions it deems special enough.

Today is definitely a special enough occasion.

Shoko probably planned this, but she keeps you distracted in the chunk of time between when you’re done getting ready and when you’re buzzing Satoru in the building. She settles in with the new laptop that her parents bought her as a graduation gift, and you know she’s going to be spending the night. She says as much when you announce Satoru’s on his way. She needs to know how the date goes.

In the genkan, where Shoko can’t see you, you have to take deep breaths before opening the door for Satoru. And put a hand over your heart, like that’ll make it slow down. It’s just Satoru, it’s just Satoru, it’s just Satoru, you chant to yourself over and over inside your head.

It’s just Satoru and…he looks very handsome.

Oh, no.

This is like your second year all over again when your body decided it was time for a sexual awakening.

It’s not like you haven’t been aware that Satoru is attractive. But it always felt…forbidden, somehow, to think of him like that because he was your best friend. It’s easier now. You’re allowed to look because it’s you that’s doing it and Satoru likes it. He likes you. You can openly let your gaze roam over him in his denim jacket with the plain white shirt underneath, dropping down to his jeans and nice shoes.

And you think he likes when you look at him the way you are because he’s grinning when your eyes finally move back up to his face. “Like what you see?” Satoru asks with a waggle of his brows.

Knowing it’ll fluster him, you bluntly answer with, “Yeah.” It’s pleasing to see how red his cheeks get. As you’re slipping on your shoes, you call out to Shoko. “I’ll text you on my way back about what you want for dinner!”

“Okay!” Shoko calls back. “See you later!”

“What’s Shoko doing here?” Satoru asks after you close the door behind you, having recovered from your flustering him.

“If you asked her, she’d probably say something like we did girl things. If you ask me, she made me into her own personal little doll.” You pause to spread your arms out and do a little twirl. “How do I look?”

When you stop, he’s flushed but grinning. “Like the most beautiful little doll in the world. I can’t believe you got all dressed up just for me.”

The compliment has the back of your neck prickling with heat. “Jeez, you don’t have to lay it on so thick. I’m already here on the date with you.”

“It’s not laying it on thick,” he denies with that cute little scrunch of his nose. “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever met. Now, I’m allowed to tell you without it being weird. Get used to it.” He leans forward a little, getting all up in your space, poking at your cheek. “And if we’re on a date, what’s with that homewrecker in there getting to have dinner with you? What if I planned a whole day full of date stuff, huh?”

“I am not doing a whole day of public things.”

“Maybe I planned to cook you a four-course meal for dinner tonight.”

“Cooking for me implies you’ve completely unpacked. Last I checked, you were too busy putting your figurines in their designated places and eating takeout. Has that changed?” He crosses his arms over his chest, that scrunch in his nose only getting bigger. “That’s what I thought.”

“I regret this.”

“Watch it, Gojo. You’re being scored right now and it’s getting reported to Shoko when I get home.”

“Eh? Is that why she’s really at your place?” Satoru rolls his eyes. “Why can’t she worry about her love life?”

“Shoko wants to pretend there is no love life.” You sigh, your worry for Shoko blowing all the wind out of your sails. “I just really wish one of them would tell me what happened between them. In more detail, I mean. I know Shoko got too drunk and confessed and then Utahime rejected her, but…Shoko doesn’t seem like the one to hold a grudge about that.”

Satoru hums before oh-so-casually dropping, “Probably has something to do with Utahime not being out to her family.”

You’re so stunned by this piece of information coming from Satoru that you almost slam into a light post. It’s only because of him grabbing your upper arm and pulling you out of the way that you don’t. “What? Huh? How—” he blinks owlishly down at you, like he’s confused that you’re confused! “How do you know that? I don’t even know that!”

“I’ve known Utahime since we were kids. Have I not told you that?”

“What the hell? No!”

“Oh. Uh, well, surprise! She was always in my ear about how I needed to take my etiquette lessons seriously or else I’d be a shitty clan leader. Man, she could get downright nasty with her critique.” He’s back to pouting when he realizes, “Aw, c’mon, have you thought I’ve been a dick to her this whole time for literally no reason at all other than she’s weak? How lowly do you think of me, Sketch?”

“You tormented poor Kiyotaka mercilessly last year.”

“It was some very light bullying to get him the hell out of sorcery. That guy had one foot in the grave and—hey! You’re on first name basis with that guy already? What’s up with that?”

“Focus, Satoru, please.”

“Ugh. Fine. Whatever. Yeah, I’ve known her a long time. Her clan is super useful because of their technique, so they’re buddy-buddy with the big clans. Just like all the old clans, they’re traditional as hell, and she’s an only child. Eh, I think I heard a rumor that there’s an engagement in the works between her and a Kamo. Who knows the hell she’d raise if she threw that all away to live in sweet lesbian bliss with Shoko?”

Your brows furrow. “Shoko is actively making plans to cheat her way through medical school. Being the mistress might make her a little sore, but…she doesn’t seem like the type to have that be a dealbreaker. She really loves Utahime.”

“Yeah, it’s probably that Utahime is too noble to let Shoko be the mistress. She’s a goody-two-shoes like that.”

“Goody—” you scowl at him. “Don’t make fun of her for that!” The dynamic between Utahime and Satoru makes a lot more sense now. You understand why she always turns down your offers to make Satoru back down. She gives back as good as she gets, but this isn’t a time for him to make fun of her. “That is noble and kind of her!” You think of a way to make it more relatable to him, to help him really understand her plight. “That would be like you making Suguru be your dirty little secret while you’re married to me. Do you think Suguru deserves that?”

Satoru puts his hands over his heart, batting his lashes, gasping dramatically. “Talking about marriage already? I’m swooning, Miss Sketch!” You stare at him, deadpan, mentally begging him to take this a little more seriously. “What? That’s the only realistic part of that scenario! There’s no way that I’d keep you or Suguru a secret. It sucks that I couldn’t legally marry you both at the same time, but I’d definitely have a ring on both your fingers.”

“My hypothetical might’ve been flawed,” you mutter to yourself. “Imagine being engaged to Utahime, then.” You ignore his very loud ew! “You’re both an only child. The continuation of your clan’s bloodline rests on your shoulders. Personally, I don’t think she should care. Traditionalists love to preach about the survival of the fittest except when it’s things like this. Bloodlines come, bloodlines go, and the jujutsu world keeps spinning.”

“Exactly!” Satoru agrees. “But, my darling Sketch, there’s one more flaw in your logic—” he taps your nose playfully, “—both me and Utahime have cousins to carry on the bloodline. So, there’s honestly nothing holding her back. She’s making her life and Shoko’s difficult for no reason.”

“It’s not for no reason,” you argue. “Ignoring the fact that change is hard for everyone, Utahime getting cut off from her family is a lot different than you getting cut off from yours. You’re a Special Grade. You can easily make enough money to support yourself without your clan’s money. It’s different for her. And…other than their traditional ways, she does love her family. It’s hard to leave that all behind.”

Satoru sighs loudly. “Life is just easy mode when you’re Gojo Satoru, huh?”

“I have to agree. Other than having to fit your massive ego through doors, it’s easy going for you, isn’t it?”

“Mean!”

Satoru refuses to tell you what he has planned for your date. You know he’s proud of himself for what he’s picked out, so you’ll indulge him, and don’t push to ruin the surprise.

The train is packed.

He’d asked ahead of time if you’d be okay to use public transportation. He’s braver over text, so he admitted he wanted to spend as much time with you as possible, no warping if he can help it. Even Shoko, who was looking at your phone over your shoulder, gave an aww, that’s cute. Then, she’d ruined it with, he’s such a dork.

You don’t want to admit defeat and say you overestimated your ability to deal with crowds today. It’s the weekend before school starts, so you should’ve expected that families and teenagers would be out to enjoy their last moments of freedom. There’s no room to sit, so you’re left to stand alongside everyone else, sharing one of the dangling handles with Satoru because everyone else has one.

At the third bump of someone against your body, you try to reason with yourself that it’s only six stops until yours. Satoru gave you that much of a hint. You can handle it. You refuse to ruin this date because you’re too much of a baby to deal with a crowded train.

As the train nears the first stop of six, your body locks up, preparing for the rush of people who are going to touch you. You’re trying to not visibly grimace in front of Satoru. Trying not to be too obvious with your discomfort because you know he’ll ask if you want to go home. You don’t want to be babied. You want so badly to have a good day. To have your mind and body cooperate with you for once.

“Still up for me touching you?”

“Huh?” You blink out of your mental spiral and tilt your head up toward Satoru. He repeats the question. “Oh, yes, of course. As long as it’s you.”

“I’m gonna test something out.”

You tilt your head to the side. “What?”

Satoru shushes you. “It’s another surprise,” he whispers. Then, his big hand is slipping around and cupping the back of your head. He pulls you forward until your forehead bumps against his solid chest. His other arm moves around your shoulders. The unintentional…or maybe it’s intentional, actually. Anyway, because his arm is there, it’s kind of a barrier between you and the people who bump against you from the back.

Immediately, the tension bleeds from your body. This closeness to him, this being surrounded so wholly by his presence, is something to ground you. You can catch a hint of his body wash and bury your nose further against his chest, chasing the sweet smell. It’s subtle, like your own, because you both hate overwhelming smells. Even his deodorant isn’t powerful. No cologne or body spray—he learned his lesson after that buying that one American body spray when it was released in Japan.

You wrap your arms around his waist, sighing happily. You think that’s it, that he’s using his body to block people, but when the train comes to a stop, something happens.

There’s a little surge in his cursed energy before its shifting. It bleeds out, blanketing you. What happens next is hard for you to describe. It’s weird. The people around you both knock into you, but they also don’t. Your brain registers it, technically, but…it reminds you of magnets, almost. That subtle resistance of trying to push two of the same polarity together that only grows the closer you get the two magnets with each other.

It takes you a stupidly long amount of time, until the next stop, to realize that this is Infinity.

“I finally figured out how to do this,” Satoru murmurs in your ear when the noise of everyone filing in and out dies down. “It was by studying you, actually. It’s familiar, right? Does it feel like a blanket?”

“Yes,” you answer quietly, still in awe.

“Good. Now, if we’re ever out and you’re sick of all the bullshit, I can share this with you.”

And Satoru sounds so proud of himself for learning this. For you. There’s no other reason, tactically, that he would need to extend Infinity to someone else. What did he say last year? He’s been looking at you with his Six Eyes for four…no. It’s been five years now. He’s always been watching you, studying your idiosyncrasies, making note of your pleasures and aversions, and going even deeper to learn the flow of your cursed energy itself.

This twisting of your heart is almost unbearable, but you don’t want to be anywhere else right now other than in his arms. Such an odd feeling that has your body at odds. You breathe in, exhaling shakily. There’s a little wobble in your knees that makes you lean further against him…or maybe that’s just an excuse. You can’t hear his heart with the noise of the train on the tracks, but you feel the rapid thump of it against your cheek. Just as fast as yours.

Now, the counting down of the stops until yours makes you sadder rather than relieved. You don’t want to leave his embrace and not just because of Infinity. Ever since everyone’s gotten their own apartments, spending the night in the same bed has slowly dwindled down. You can’t even remember the last time that you and Satoru were together. You miss it. You want to go home now, only because you want to curl up with him in bed.

But that wouldn’t be very much fun for a date…

“Sorry,” you mumble embarrassedly when you’ve both finally gotten off at your stop. “I should be better at this by now.” You chew your bottom lip nervously. “I know it’s probably awkward for you, being with a grown adult that can’t handle public transportation.” Why are you suddenly so anxious right now?

Satoru squints at you. “When have I ever cared about how you act in public?”

“Um…” You cringe. “Never.”

“Right. And it hasn’t changed, by the way. So, did I do something to give you the wrong impression?”

“No! But I can’t remind you of how sorry I am?”

“Nope, because I don’t want your damn apology when there’s nothing to be sorry about. Jeez, you act like you’re making some big spectacle when all you’re doing is getting nervous.” In the middle of the station, like it’s no big deal, he hunches over to bump his forehead against yours hard enough that it leaves you yelping and clutching at that place. “What’d I say to you last year, huh? Every single part, Sketch.”

I want all the parts of you, even the ugliest ones.

Oh.

As Satoru snatches one of your hands to yank you into motion, leading you toward the exit of the station, the truth barrels into you as fast and hard as the train you’re leaving behind. It took five long years for you to finally catch up with reality, but you understand now. You get it. These declarations of his, all those private and precious moments with him, they’ve always made you feel a certain type of way. Sometimes, it feels painful with how your heart twists up inside your chest. An emotion that you’ve never been able to name always builds up inside you, leaving you jittery and restless because you have no idea what to do with all that pressure.

Finally, you can put a name to it.

And that’s what your massively stupid fucking heart decides to do. Out loud. You’re both stepping out under the sun when your mouth moves before literally any other part of your body, especially your brain, can catch up with it.

“I love you.”

You jerk your hand away from his slackening grip, slapping your hands over your mouth as if that’s going to turn back time and let you swallow back up that very heavy thing you just threw out there. Satoru heard. Oh, you wish he didn’t, but he definitely heard over all the noise because he’s slowly turning his head to look over his shoulder at you. Briefly, in his profile, you see his wide blue eyes.

Actually, he’s so shocked that his Infinity isn’t up because someone physically bumps into him and sends his sunglasses clattering on the ground because they were slipping down the bridge of his nose.

“I’m sorry!” It may be a cold day, but you’re burning from embarrassment. Balking under his heavy gaze, you rush to pick up his sunglasses and put them back on his face for him. But then you realize that’s a very intimate thing to do to another person, no matter how many times you’ve done it before, and almost drop them again. “Forget I said that!” You shake your hands, rocking from side to side because of all your buzzing anxiousness. “We…are we late for the date? We should hurry! Right?!”

Satoru’s mouth opens, closes, and the process repeats two more times before he squeaks, “Yeah!” He hesitates. Does the open-close mouth thing again and you’re terrified that you fucked everything up. Genuinely petrified. Then, so loudly that people start to stare, he announces, “Okay! Yeah! Nothing wrong here! Let’s go!”

Through Satoru’s nervous chattering, as he’s dragging you away, you hear an elderly woman sigh fondly and coo, “Ah, young love.”

“A cat café?”

Satoru cringes. “Do you hate it?”

“Are we here for me…or for you?”

He sputters, cheeks turning red. “I’ll have you know that I’m a dog person!”

“Yeah, but it fits your—” you gesture vaguely at him, “—vibe.”

He squints down at you. “I feel like I should be offended.”

Both of you resolutely not talking about the thing that happened, you now stand outside a new cat café—as announced by their little announcement board placed on the sidewalk. You remember when news spread of the first one opening in Osaka back in 2004, you think it was. The idea of it absolutely delighted you…and almost every other teenage girl, you suspect. Suguru hadn’t gotten the appeal of it, but that’s because his parents didn’t care if he interacted with the stray cats like your mother did.

With the hustle and bustle of high school, though, you kind of forgot the existed until now. You’ve never been to one. In an instant, your excitement for them is renewed and you grab Satoru’s hand, excitedly tugging him inside. You listen dutifully to the employee that greets you both for the appointment Satoru scheduled.

You never knew the logistics until now. For the most part, the cats are all free to pet and interact with. Don’t pressure the cats if they don’t want attention. There are signs scattered around detailing cat behaviors. The café is also an internet one, so there are usually salarymen and college students on their laptops working alongside the cats, but don’t be shocked if some of them decide to barge in on your keyboard. There are treats, both human and cat, available for purchase. The cats also have toys scattered around that you can use to play with them.

Just before you’re set free, you’re shown a wall with pictures of all the cats. “All of them are up for adoption,” the employee chirps. “Ah, but before you go in…well, we were wondering if we could use you as test subjects in exchange for unlimited access to the bakery and drinks.”

You’re not able to look at all the pictures, glancing over at the woman with a tilt of your head, curious about what kind of experiment a cat café can possibly have. “Test subjects?”

“A pair of cats were recently brought to us from the shelter. We’ve been trying to get them adjusted to human interaction—”

Satoru worriedly asks, “Are they dangerous?” You’ve got to hide your laugh as a cough, covering your mouth. There’s no way that he’s seriously asking that, right? Has Satoru forgotten that you’re both sorcerers? It’s as cute as it is perplexing.

“We think that one of them may have been abused, so he’s…cautious of humans. That’s only when he’s by himself, though! If his partner is with him then he’s usually okay! As of right now, they’re a package deal, but that makes adoption harder. We’ve been letting them adjust to human contact with a glass wall separating them from our guests. Since it’ll be only you two for the first half of the day, we thought this might be the perfect opportunity to introduce them to human contact again. This way, they won’t be immediately overwhelmed.”

“Half the day?” Satoru is pointedly not looking at you when you snap your head in his direction. Your eye twitches, but you bite your tongue because you’re both in public. But, oh, the lecture you’re going to give him later will be of epic proportions. Turning back to the employee, you force a smile while she’s blinking in confusion. “I’d love to meet them.”

After signing a waiver and another employee taking your drink orders, you’re finally allowed out into the larger area. There are a few cats that are there to immediately greet you, some weaving through your legs. The space is large but designed in a way to provide privacy if you need it. The cats themselves have so many cat trees and ledges to lounge on. There are even baskets hanging from the ceiling. There’s an area separated from guests for the cats to eat, drink, and sleep in that they access by way of pet doors.

As the employee is introducing you to some of the cats at your feet, Satoru is munching on a taiyaki. He dutifully holds yours when you pass it to him so you can bend down and start petting the cats with the employee. You’re listening intently as she’s introducing all the cats.

“Oi!”

Something thumps down on the floor next to you, grabbing your attention before you can whip your head around to check on Satoru. The cat that’s now next to you can best be described as a cotton ball. It’s so fluffy. The bright, blue eyes that it stares at you with are a little…unnerving. But you’re not really sure why you feel that way. Maybe it’s because you didn’t realize cats could have such an intense eye color?

“Toru!” The employee gasps.

At the same time, Satoru is snarling at the cat, “You little thief!”

“Huh,” you mumble to yourself.

As the employee is babbling apologies to Satoru, you pluck your sunglasses off the top of your head and hold them in the air. It isn’t near the cat, of course, because you don’t want to upset him by getting grabby. You angle them, though, so you can see what the cat would look like with them on. They’re not like Satoru’s at all, but they’re dark like his.

The cat isn’t even eating the taiyaki. He ignores the chastising employee and Satoru, drops the taiyaki, and approaches you to flop down in front of you and show his belly. Even his meows are demanding. And if you didn’t know better, you’d think he was staring Satoru dead in the eye with glee and defiance.

Oh, so that’s why you’re unnerved.

“The resemblance is uncanny,” you whisper in awe. Louder, to interrupt the employee and Satoru, you ask, “What characters do you use for his name?”

“To steal,” she explains with a sigh of resignation. “This is one half of the troubled pair.” Yes, you suspected as much. “It’s not that he doesn’t play well with other pets! He just…”

“Annoys them?”

“How did you know?”

“Just a lucky guess,” you answer deadpan while trying extremely hard not to look at Satoru.

“And, well…even his previous owner, a very kind elderly woman, admitted that she spoiled him too much when she was forced to turn him over to the shelter. She was in poor health and her daughter wouldn’t let her keep him. He loves treats. He steals them from the other cats. The behavior is improving, though! He shares…only with his friend…but it’s progress.”

You reach out to take his little paw between your fingers. All the stray cats in the village taught you that a cat showing their belly is almost always a trap. “Where’s the other—”

There’s a chirp before another cat is rubbing up against your thigh. “Right…there?”

The employee is baffled that her supposedly human-averse cat is greeting you willingly. You are baffled because…okay, this is just ridiculous! If there’s a god out there, they decided to give you the most blatantly obvious signs to adopt a pet today. This cat is as fluffy as his counterpart, but with black fur instead of white except for one spot. It has a patch of gray fur that falls over his eye like a scar…or a bang.

Before you can stop yourself, you reach down to rub one of his ears that, worryingly, has a hole in it. His hackles briefly raise, but he quickly leans into the touch. “You think he was abused?”

“The shelter said it could’ve happened in a fight with another cat,” the employee says while eyeing the cat with the same skepticism you do. “Fights with other animals usually end up with split ears or bits taken off the edge. Nothing like this.” The holes are jagged, yes, but only as if someone tried cutting a circle in too flexible material. Way too precise to be the result of another animal.

“Poor thing,” you coo while scratching him under his chin. He purrs. His counterpart, Toru, meows in offense before leaping right on the black cat’s belly. You’re quick to pull your hand away when they start tussling. “Are they, uh, brothers?”

“No. It’s shocking, considering they’re the same rare breed,” the employee answers with a chuckle. “They’re both Norwegian Forests! Toru came from the elderly woman and had been at the shelter before Gato got there—”

“Gato?” Both you and Satoru repeat at the same time with the same incredulity.

“Oh! Yes, that’s the other cat.” She points to the black cat, not knowing that that’s not what you and Satoru are really questioning here. “Gato means cat in Spanish and the person that saved him was a Brazilian exchange student. It’s a bit unoriginal, but the shelter thought it would be nice to honor the person that saved him.”

“Portuguese,” you correct.

She tilts her head. “Eh?”

“Brazil’s official language is Portuguese.”

Behind you, Satoru asks, “How do you know that?”

“I had a language learning phase in middle school. There’s a large Brazilian community in Japan.”

The employee gasps. “Oh, no! Did we give him the wrong name?”

You try to recall the basic words you’d learned. Portuguese and Spanish have a big overlap with each other. “No, I think Gato is still right.” She sighs in relief. “Um, if you don’t mind me saying…he doesn’t seem very…uh…human averse,” you remark as Gato, having escaped Toru’s shenanigans, slowly approaches you again for pets.

“Maybe all the work we’ve done is paying off,” the employee muses as she slowly reaches down to join you in stroking Gato’s fur. Two people at once must be pushing it because he hisses and swats at her hand before throwing himself right in your lap. He even tries climbing up your shirt, claws digging into the fabric. “Or not,” she adds while cradling her hand to her chest.

“How old are they?” They look full-grown but Gato’s shirt clinging behavior strikes you as kitten-like.

“We know for sure that Toru is a year old. Gato is a little harder to pinpoint down, but the shelter suspects he’s around the same age.”

“Is that…fully grown?”

“Hmm, well, that’s a little more subjective with cats. With smaller breeds, yes. A bigger breed like the American Maine Coon isn’t fully grown until they’re two. They’ve sexually matured, though, but just barely.” She giggles. “If you wanted the human age equivalent, they’re about fifteen.”

This poor employee must be so confused when you can’t take it anymore and burst out into laughter.

Satoru, though, understands. “Sketch, no,” he growls.

But you’ve already made your decision.

Shoko hasn’t stopped laughing since you returned home with Satoru and cat supplies in hand. You’re only a little embarrassed, but Satoru was the one to pay for the adoption fees, so he clearly wasn’t that upset with how the first half of your date day turned out.

The café was kind enough to keep the cats housed for another few days while you readied your apartment for them. You also have to notify your landlord so the pet fee can be added to your rent, but the office is closed on the weekend, so you’ve got to wait until Monday. You think the café will wait as long as possible because they were really worried that Toru and Gato wouldn’t ever be adopted. It’s hard to have someone adopt two cats at once, let alone one as hostile as Gato.

Satoru and you are back in your bedroom, cleaning up the explosion of open bags and packages from the cat tower and toys that you’ve spread around to greet the cats when you bring them home.

You’re shoving blankets inside the carriers to make them more comfortable when Satoru quietly asks, “Did you mean it?” It’s been silent for a few minutes so you’re not sure what he means. You turn to look at him, but his head is ducked down, watching his fingers that fiddle with the hem of his pants. “What you said when we got off the train,” he clarifies.

In all the excitement with the cats, you totally forgot how you almost blew the date before it even started.

You debate on whether to lie or not. You don’t want to do that to Satoru, no matter how soul-crushingly embarrassing this might be. It’s fine. He likes you. He’s said as much. As long as you clearly state that you don’t expect him to feel that way for you right now or ever, for that matter. Relationships, especially young ones, don’t always work out. Satoru would never be cruel to you just because he doesn’t feel the same way.

“Do you want me to? I don’t want to pressure you.”

Satoru is silent before quietly admitting, “I want to know if you feel the same way I feel about you.”

Your eyes slowly widen. “You…” It feels like the breath has been punched out of your lungs. “You…me…” The power of your brain must’ve gone to kick your heart into overdrive because you can’t even form coherent sentences now.

You’re not the only nervous one. Satoru’s normally cold hands aren’t a balm for your scalding hot cheeks today. No, his hands are definitely sweaty when he cups your cheeks. His face is red, too, but he’s brave. So brave. Staring at you with those sparkling blue eyes, he bluntly confesses, “I’m in love with you.”

The breath catches in your throat. “Really?”

He laughs shakily, knocking his forehead against yours. “I’ve been in love with you since I was seventeen years old.”

“I’m in love with you, too.” And you hold both his cheeks in your sweaty hands. “I don’t know how long, but I do. I’m sorry it took me so long to figure it out.”

“It’s okay. I’m only in this for your banging body, anyway. It’s fine if you’re a space cadet.” You snort before breaking out in a fit of giggles. “There,” he breathes out. “That’s the ticket. You’re so pretty, Sketch. Can I kiss you now?”

“After you just called me stupid?” You’re the one to knock your forehead against his. “Yes. You can kiss me.”

Satoru does, even though the first part of it is just the both of you grinning against each other’s mouth. You’re in an awkward position, so you get up on your knees, turning your body toward him before you kiss him again. You didn’t know how much you missed this. His soft lips and sweet taste. He has no confidence in this and it’s endearing. It makes you feel special, that you get to learn with him.

“What was my date rating?” Satoru asks between kisses.

“You did pretty good,” you answer coyly.

“Good enough to be my girlfriend?”

“Okay, that was pretty smooth,” you concede with a laugh. “Yes, Satoru, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

“Girls, it’s time to go.”

Mimiko, with Toru cradled in her arms, appears in the kitchen doorway. “Just a little longer, Mister Geto? Please?”

After drying his hands off completely, Suguru settles them on his hips. It’s such a mother-like pose that you have to bite your lip to keep back the laughter bubbling up in your chest. “Everyone has school tomorrow, Mimiko. You’ve been with Miss Squid all weekend long. We should let her have some time alone.”

Nanako comes barreling into the kitchen, wildly throwing around her arm while insisting, “It’s not time! We always go home at six!” She points at her little pink plastic watch to emphasize the point, though she’s moving too fast for anyone to see.

Suguru sighs in irritation, throwing you a nasty look that has you smiling beatifically in response. You’re not apologizing for adopting two cats desperately in need of a home. Suguru and Satoru are simply biased because they think the cats are out to get them. Never mind that Satoru was there when the employee explained that Gato was abused so that’s why he has a hard time warming up to people.

It’s been a month now. There was a little delay where Gato had to warm up to the girls, but now that he has, it’s only a matter of time before the novelty of them will wear off.

“We’re leaving earlier because we’re walking Tsumiki and Megumi home,” Suguru explains patiently.

“But—”

“Girls,” you interrupt while mirroring Suguru’s hands on the hips. “Do you remember how you needed lots of alone time when you started living with Suguru?” Their little faces grow solemn, but you feel like this is an important enough lesson to instill in them. You’ve been noticing Gato hiding away more frequently as the weekend has stretched on. “Gato needs that alone time, too, okay?”

“Yes, Miss Squid,” they both answer. Thankfully, they have a determination in their eyes rather than lingering sadness. “Will you tell Gato we’re sorry if we made him made him scared?” Mimiko goes on to ask.

You smile. “Yes, I will.”

As the twins are collecting all their things, Tsumiki slips into the kitchen with you, shyly asking if she can help you as you make everyone a bento for tomorrow. It might take a little longer, but you happily accept the help. You’ve learned that she really loves to cook, and you want to foster that. You even bought some cookie cutters to cut vegetables into cute shapes. It’s cute to watch her little brows furrow in concentration and hear her grunt as she tries to force the cutter through vegetables and fruits.

“What happened to Nanako and Mimiko?”

“Hmm?”

“You said they needed lots of alone time. Was it because they were sad?”

“Ah. Well, it’s not really my place to say,” you explain gently. “You’d have to ask them.”

She pauses, shifts uncomfortably, before she quietly confesses, “I’m afraid to.”

“Why?”

“I know they don’t like me.”

You step away from the table enough to crouch down to Tsumiki’s level. She turns her body toward you, but keeps her head ducked down, as if she’s in trouble. “Have they said or done something to make you feel like they don’t like you?” It’s important that you know what they did so you can talk to their therapist about it. Their therapist used to be a sorcerer, so she’s been able to help them with their distrust of non-sorcerers more effectively than a regular therapist, but they’re not perfect.

“No!” Her head flies up, eyes wide, and she waves her hands nervously. “I mean…yes? No? I…” She struggles to explain herself. You wait patiently. “They…um…they’re better friends with Megumi. They don’t have things to talk about with me like him.” She wrings her hands in her dress. “It’s okay! It’s always like that. I know I’m really boring and plain. Everyone’s always liked him better. I know he’s really special. I’m…I’m really happy he has people now who are like him!”

Happy, you mentally repeat while watching her with a forced smile on her face and tears in her eyes. “Do you feel lonely, Tsumiki?” She shakes her head furiously. You reach out to take her hand in yours, squeezing as a show of comfort. “It’s okay to feel that way.”

“I have Megumi,” she argues with a trembling voice.

“I know you do. You can have all the people in the world around you and still feel lonely. You feeling lonely doesn’t mean you don’t love him any less.” You drop to the floor completely, crossing your legs. You take her other hand. “Do you want to know a secret?” You don’t wait for her to answer. “I’ve felt the same way as you do, all through my life. I still do, sometimes.”

“But you’re not like me at all!” Tsumiki protests. “You’re pretty and cool and so, so nice!”

“I am.” It’s taking a lot for you to not start crying yourself. Jeez, is this what it’s like for Suguru and Satoru being on the other side of your self-loathing? “Jiheishō—have you heard of it?” She shakes her head. You didn’t think so. “My brain works a lot different than everyone else. I was the only person in my village that had it. I had Suguru, but there were days when I still felt lonely. Satoru is like me, but he doesn’t…um…we feel it different ways. And he and Suguru are so strong.” You smile softly. “See? I know you’re not a sorcerer, but we’re still a lot alike, right?”

She nods while rubbing at her eyes. “I don’t want to make anyone feel bad.”

“I don’t, either. That’s why I didn’t talk about it for a long time. But it hurt Suguru and Satoru more that I felt so bad for so long without telling them about it.” She’s still conflicted. You empathize with her to the point of pain. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell anyone else right now if you’re not ready. I know about it now, so if you ever feel sad or left behind, you can talk to me.”

“It…it’s really okay for me to bother you?” Tsumiki asks hesitantly.

“It’s not a bother. You’re not a bother, Tsumiki.” For so long, you felt like a bother. On your bad days, you still do. A child should never have to feel that way, especially not one with as beautiful a soul as Tsumiki. “I really enjoy our time together. It’s fun to cook with you and I want to do it a lot more.”

She gives a wobbly smile through her sniffles. “I love to do arts and crafts with you and Mimiko and Nanako. I want to be as good at drawing as you are.”

“I’m excited to see how far you go,” you tell her honestly. “Would you like a hug before you go?”

“Yes, please.”

“Come smoke with me before I leave, Squid.”

Ugh. You know that he and Satoru definitely overheard the conversation with Tsumiki because they’re super nosy. There’s no way out of it. You’ll have to deal with them both. Might as well get over it. “Megumi,” you call out politely, “Can you help your sister finish up?”

“Sure,” Megumi answers from where he’s on the couch with a book.

Suguru goes ahead to the balcony, waiting until you’re outside and slid the door shut behind you to light a cigarette. “I’ll try to be better around her for you,” is the first thing he says.

Your eyes narrow. “Have you done something to make her feel unwelcome?”

“No…but I haven’t gone out of my way to make her feel included, either.”

You sigh. “If it’s too hard for you to be around her so much, I won’t bring them over to your place anymore.”

“No. I…I genuinely do want to try.” He breathes out a cloud of smoke. “I didn’t realize until listening to you with her that I had made so much of my identity sorcery. Part of the reason why I want to be a teacher is to make sure that students aren’t faceless cogs in a machine, but I’ve done that very thing to myself.”

 “I get it.” You step beside him where he’s leaned against the railing. “I’ve done it, too. We worked so hard to make Satoru stop seeing himself as a weapon, but then we went and made ourselves feel like one.” He nods in agreement. “I didn’t realize that I was doing that with drawing. It became an extension of my technique, became a chore instead of a thing I love. It wasn’t until I saw the girls do it and love it themselves that I remembered why I’d even started doing it in the first place.”

“I want to buy a record player.” He laughs. “Remember the times we’d lay around and listen to the radio?”

You sigh nostalgically. “I miss that thing. It was one of the few times you actually doodled with me.”

“I’m not gifted with art like you are and I’m too much of a perfectionist. I hated that I wasn’t immediately good at it like you were.” He pauses, glancing off into the distance, pensive. “I like cooking. I love to provide for everyone.” It’s an olive branch, of sorts. Something for him to use to better connect with Tsumiki.

“The problem with jujutsu society,” you start slowly, “is that we’ve cut ourselves off from non-sorcerers. It’s easy to stay away from them. It’s hard to be close with people who can never know about this massive part of your life. We save them. They have no idea that we do which breeds resentment while, at the same time, causing us to feel superior to them. You and Satoru are perfect examples of the end result. Two side of the same coin—resentment and superiority.”

Suguru studies you for a few minutes, taking drags of his cigarette. Finally, he asks, “How do you do it?” You tilt your head to the side, confused. “How come you’ve never resented them?”

“I wouldn’t…exactly say that. Hmm, it’s not resentment, I guess. I definitely feel unappreciated, but I also understand why they can’t know.” You rock back and forth on your feet. “The truth is, I’ve walked hand-in-hand with resentment for my whole life. I’ve resented my mind. I envy people who can walk in their world without trouble, both sorcerer and not. But…I always had you. We connected as sorcerers, in a way that no one else in our village could understand. During our first year of high school, I met Satoru and connected with him in a way that you could never understand. That’s what it’s all about, I guess.”

“What? Connection?”

“Yeah. Sorcerers can pretend they’re not all they want, but we are all connected by the human experience. That’s the very least. I know that there’s going to always be something that connects me to another person, something that we can bond over. I’ve craved to be understood all my life, so why wouldn’t I try to understand another person—sorcerer or not?” You nod to yourself, satisfied with your conclusion. “Yeah. That’s it.”

“That’s it, she says, while giving some groundbreaking wisdom,” Suguru says with a huff of disbelief.

“You’re just being dramatic now.”

He sighs, snuffing his cigarette out in the tray that you bought specifically for him and Shoko. “No, you just never give yourself enough credit.” He smiles softly. “I promise to keep working at it.”

It’s a Sunday, almost three months into your relationship, when you wake before Satoru does.

Thank goodness, you groggily think. You’ve been worried about him. It’s the dead of summer now which means a rise in cursed spirit activity. It’s not until now that you realized how easy the higher-ups were taking it on you all in high school, even with both Satoru and Suguru at the Special Grade label. Headquarters no longer cares about Satoru’s status as a student. And now that it’s July and summer break for him, the higher-ups go even harder.

Over in the corner of the room, Gato and Toru are still curled up, asleep. They’ve become your little alarm clocks, but even they seem to want to sleep in today. It’s the right kind of idea. With a soft, happy sigh, you wiggle back to bury yourself further in Satoru’s arms. It’s only then that you suddenly become aware of something poking against your ass.

Satoru moans softly in his sleep before he starts unconsciously grinding against you.

You’re not totally clueless. You know that, usually, if someone has a dick, it gets hard in the morning. Actually, you’ve seen and felt it before with Suguru. Before your parents totally banned him from sleepovers, he’d roll over when you both woke up and you’d sometimes catch a peek of the tent in his shorts. When he started sneaking into your dorm room in high school, you’d feel it, too. You were always polite to just never bring attention to it.

But in all the years that you’ve slept in the same bed as Satoru, he has never gotten hard around you. That, paired with the fact that he was never hard when you two made out, and you’d assumed that he simply doesn’t feel sexually attracted to you. It was any easy thing to accept because you’d gone so many years without feeling it yourself. It wasn’t until you were in high school for the switch to your libido to turn on. Before these past three months when you think a little too hard about Satoru, you think the last time that you’d felt a hint of lust was that July afternoon when you and Suguru took each other’s virginities.

Bodies do what bodies do, though. Unless you’re thinking about Satoru, getting off feels like cleaning out the pipes. You figure that’s what’s probably going on here, but you don’t want to…you’re not actually sure what. For some reason, it feels wrong to let it happen without his knowledge. Natural bodily reaction or not. You think you should wake him up.

Satoru has already beaten you to the punch. Hips still moving, he sighs as happily as you did, softly murmuring your name. You wait for him to process the situation. You’ll follow his lead—not mention it unless he brings it up. “Mm, feels good,” he whispers as he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

And that does it for you. It sends a shiver down your spine and has the place between your legs throbbing. “Good morning,” you greet hoarsely. At the sound of your voice, Satoru freezes. You crane your head to the side, trying to glance at him over your shoulder. He is, predictably, turning so red that you’re worried there’s going to be steam coming off him. “Don’t freak out,” you say ahead of time, trying to calm him down.

“I’m not!” Satoru shouts defensively, voice pitched high in distress. You’re not focused on that, though. Because suddenly, you stop feeling his dick against your ass. Which wouldn’t be a big deal if he had pulled away, but he hasn’t. While his hips are still pressed against the curve of you, you just…stop feeling the hardness of him.

“What the—” Satoru is faster than you, scrambling away while you’re rolling over on your other side. With narrowed eyes, you watch him as he’s now propped up against the headboard, covers carefully placed over his lap along with his hands. “What did you just do?”

“I’m going to go feed those little heathens.”

Oh, okay, you see how it is. He really wants to play this game, huh? Fine. “Okay. Go ahead.”

He hesitates before weakly suggesting, “You can go back to sleep now.”

“No. I’m awake now,” you reply coolly as you lean up on an elbow, holding your cheek in your hand.

He’s definitely starting to sweat now. “If you’re awake then you go do it.”

“They can wait.”

Satoru loses his patience at your insistence on not looking away. “Sketch.”

“Satoru.”

“Please.”

“Please what?”

He covers his face with his hands, groaning like he’s in agony. “Don’t make me talk about this.”

Hmm. What can you do to make him more comfortable? This is definitely a talk that you two need to have. You’ve been making assumptions when you should’ve just asked him up front if sex was going to be on the table or not. “If I roll over, will it be easier to talk to me?”

“Ugh, I don’t want to talk about it at all!” His cheeks puff out and he crosses his arms over his chest, clearly pouting, but he eventually relents. “Yeah, fine. Let’s just get it over with.”

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” you remark as you move back to your original position. “It’s what your body does.” You pause, thinking of how to further reassure him. “If I’m not allowed to be embarrassed about my brain, you shouldn’t have to hide that from me. How are you hiding it, by the way?” Satoru mumbles something. You think you catch it, but you dryly request, “A little louder, please.”

“Infinity,” he answers, loud and bitchy.

It takes a lot to not turn back over, but you swore you’d stay. “You…were using your technique…to keep me from feeling it when you get hard,” you summarize. Just to confirm. You’re not going to laugh. You’re not going to laugh.

“Yes,” he mumbles.

Hmm, that seemed a little too easy for him to do. As if he had practice with doing it before. “How long have you been doing this?”

He’s reluctant to answer. “I worked on figuring it out after that day in our second year. The…the one on the field…when you were underneath me.”

“Wait one second!” You remember that day! It was where you two ended up in a compromising position and he’d accidentally pressed his knee against your pussy. You get tangled in the sheets temporarily in your rush to turn over and sit up, facing him directly. “Is that the reason you stole my sweatshirt?”

Satoru’s shoulders are slowly hunching up to his ears. “I couldn’t help it! You were so pretty, moving around almost like a dance! Then, I know it was because you got hurt from the fall, but my dick couldn’t tell the difference between a good moan or a bad moan! I panicked!”

You burst out into laughter despite your burning cheeks. He whines your name. You don’t want him to think you’re making fun of him, so you try to explain through your laughing, “I’m relieved that my plan worked. I hoped you thought it was because I hurt myself, but it was just because you turned me on when your knee bumped against my…y’know.” You motion toward your crotch.

“Seriously?!”

“Seriously,” you confirm as your laughter settles down. “Jeez, Satoru, this whole time…I thought you just weren’t into me that way.”

“Sketch, why would I ask you out if I wasn’t into you that way?”

You shrug. “You can still love someone without needing to have sex with them. I know everyone else assumes you have to do that when you’re a couple, but…I never really got turned on that much until that day, honestly. So, yeah, I think they’re two separate things.”

In an instant, Satoru has straightened up and watches you seriously. “Do you ever want to fuck?” He cringes, maybe at how crude that sounded. “In the future, I mean. We don’t have to. I liked you way before then, since we were first years. If you never wanna have sex, I still want to be with you.”

“Didn’t you hear me just say you turned me on?” You scoot toward him, reaching out to push his bangs away from his forehead, making him lift his eyes. “If you’re okay with it then, yes, I want to do that with you.” You pull your hand away, suddenly remembering that there’s something crucial you haven’t told him about. “Um…so…just full honesty here…uh, I’m…I’m not a virgin.”

Satoru snatches your wrist, eyes wild and desperate. “What?! Who—”

“Suguru,” you admit quietly while pulling your arm away from his grasp.

“Oh.” He exhales loudly as if he’s relieved and holds a hand above his heart. “Jeez, Sketch, you really scared me for a second there. Don’t ever do that again. I thought there was someone else.”

You tilt your head to the side, confused. “But…there…was someone else?”

“Someone that’s not Suguru,” he replies with a roll of the eyes. As if you’re silly for pointing that out. “If I trust anyone to take care of you, it’s him. Duh.” Oh. Well. That…went better than expected? Actually, you’re not sure how you thought he was going to respond. “But when’d that happen? How?”

“Oh. Uh…third year. The July before…everything.” You chew the inside of your cheek, debating on how much to tell him, but it’s not like Satoru doesn’t already know everything about you and Suguru, anyway. “I mean, originally, I came up with stupid idea that if we were virgins by the end of high school, we’d fix that for each other, and he agreed. I…honestly, I’d forgotten all about it until he brought it back up. And…” You sigh. “I wanted to make him happy.”

Satoru looks concerned. “You only did it for him?”

Yeah, you should’ve worded that better. You know how it must sound from his end. That you were appeasing Suguru, that it was all about him. “It wasn’t only him getting something out of it! He definitely took care of me. It felt really, really good! We—” you squirm uncomfortably. You have to be honest about how you were feeling at the time and that’s hard to do. “I can’t speak for him, but…I think he probably felt the same. I felt so out of control with everything that was happening. I felt like everyone and everything was slipping away, especially him. It made him happy, and it made me happy, too.”

His features soften, less worried now. “Have you…uh…talked about it since then?”

“No. You know what happened after. And it took us so long to start talking again. And by the time we were close to what we were before, you asked me out.” You fidget with the sheets. “Do…do you think I should talk to him? I don’t know what I’d even say.”

“You could ask him to join us?”

As always, Satoru brings levity to the situation. Snorting, you shove at him. “Be serious!”

“Who says I wasn’t, huh?” But he’s grinning, strained as it may be. “I don’t know. I guess you’re right. Suguru was the one who actively encouraged me to ask you out, so…I guess he’s not hung up on it.” That…stings, for some reason. Maybe it’s the timing of it all that makes it hurt. If things had gotten better…then what? What would you have done? That question makes your chest tight. “So, you wanna pop my cherry?”

He yanks you from the emotions welling up inside your chest. “Satoru!”

“That’s what I’m hearing, isn’t it?”

“You could be less crass about it!”

His smile comes a little easier. He lashes out, snatching your wrists, dragging you forward toward him. Giggling, you pretend to put up a fight. “You want me to be more poetic about it?” He gets you in his lap, hands braced on his shoulders. “Please, my dear Sketch, be my guide through the erotic arts.”

“That’s somehow worse,” you mutter. Then, you shake your head and sigh fondly. “We should probably take it slow since you won’t even let me feel your dick.”

“I’ll let you feel it right now!”

Toru and Gato decide, at that exact moment, that they’ve waited long enough for breakfast. Toru does his favorite thing when Satoru is around which is throw himself on top of Satoru’s head, white fluff on more white fluff. Gato likes Satoru more than Toru does and lovingly tries to slip under Satoru’s shirt, but he’s still yowling like he’s dying of starvation.

“Menaces to society,” Satoru complains.

“The cutest menaces to society,” you coo while reaching up to take Toru into your loving arms.

You should’ve expected that Satoru would plan to take things faster in regard to the whole sex thing. Suggesting taking it slow probably came off as you trying to take it easy on him which, of course, would not stand in his eyes and would have him seeing it as a challenge.

For the past two weeks since that morning, he’s been restless when you do have the chance to see him. Since the end of the college semester, you could count with your fingers how many times he’s actually been in his apartment. Even if it’s to crash in your bed while you’re at work, hoping to spend even a little time with you before he’s called away.

You’ve been seriously debating on spiking the coffee of one or two higher-ups in order to influence them to take it easier on him, but Satoru would be upset. That’s playing with fire. And he’s right, you suppose. You need to test the limits of your technique, refine it, see if it’s possible to make it untraceable. So, no use of your technique unless under dire circumstances.

Satoru texted you with a heads up that he’s napping in your bed and said he left some cash on your table to use to stock up your pantry with sweets since he’s been burning through them. You don’t feel like arguing with him over who pays, so you do as he asks this time. With Toru and Gato weaving through your legs and almost tripping you—their daily routine—you make your way to the kitchen, but the only thing there is his wallet.

“I knew I should’ve reminded him to get the cash out before he went to sleep,” you whisper to yourself and the stillness of your apartment. It still feels weird going through his wallet. “Should I wake him up?” It’s pondering out loud, but Toru answers with a chirrup. If he could talk, it’d probably be a resounding yes.

You decide against it. He needs actual sleep. Not Reverse Cursed Technique. That doesn’t remove emotional fatigue. Toru yowls in offense when you don’t leave the kitchen and instead pick up Satoru’s wallet. You flip it open, peeling it apart, and your brows raise to your hairline when you see what’s tucked away in there alongside his cash.

Shaking your head in disbelief, you take the bills, close his wallet, place it back where it was on the table, and you’re headed back out the door.

You don’t bring it up until after you’ve both had dinner together, you’ve showered, and you’re settling in for bed. His nap was enough to recharge his brain, so he’ll be playing the PlayStation 2 that appears to have taken up permanent residence in your bedroom. He’s cross-legged at the end of the bed, tongue poking out, and his eyes briefly dart over to you.

Then, he does a double-take and stares at you with wide eyes while you hear the telltale sound of the game’s death screen.

Oh, that’s definitely boosting your ego. Goes to show what simply taking off your sports bra can do. When it comes to Satoru, anyway. This only further cements how sheltered he truly was. But…your only point of reference is Suguru and you two literally grew up together. You were never totally naked around each other, but he never outright ogled when your nipples were showing through your shirt.

“You’re blushing,” you tease.

“I’m not!”

“How are we going to use that condom in your wallet if you can’t even look at me?” You laugh at the look of pure horror on his face. Like a deer caught in headlights. “Are you trying to speedrun sex?”

“No,” he lies. “But even if I was, it’s fine. I’m ready. You don’t have to treat me like I’m made of glass.”

Humming, you slowly approach him. He’s sitting on the edge of the mattress now, so you can stand between his open legs. “Do you ever stop to think about how much you keep Infinity up?” He’s even doing it right now. He doesn’t lower it quick enough, so your fingers meet resistance when going to card them through his hair. “Everything felt turned up to an eleven when I was doing it with Suguru. I can’t imagine what it’s going to feel like for you.”

“I can handle it,” he grumbles with a pout.

“Fine. Do you feel like fooling around right now?”

“Right now?” Satoru squeaks.

“Only if you’re up for it,” you say sweetly.

“Yes,” he breathes out. “Holy shit, yes. I am so ready,” he declares as he rubs his sweaty palms across his shorts.

It feels like you should feel more nervous than you do right now. Then again, you’ve slowly been learning that the littlest things about you turn him on. Letting him see you fully naked doesn’t seem so daunting when you know how attracted he already is to you.

You’re still standing between his legs when you slowly pull your shirt up and over your head, so your breasts are right there in his face when you toss the garment over in the corner of the room. He’s transfixed. There might even be a little drool at the corner of his mouth. But, despite what people may think, Gojo Satoru is a gentleman with his girlfriend and doesn’t touch. His fingers twitch, but he doesn’t move his hands.

“You’re really good when you wanna be, y’know,” you remark amusedly. Interestingly enough, his cheeks turn redder when you tell him that. “You can touch me.” You hear the click of his throat when he swallows. “Is it okay for me to touch you?” He nods silently. “Can I take off your shirt?”

Satoru, while yanking his shirt over his head, says, “How would it even work if I told you no?”

“Maybe you want me to keep my hands to myself while you explore my body!”

His metaphorical ears perk up. “Is that on the table?”

The truth is that you’ve been thinking about this since you found that condom in his wallet and decided to confront him. You wanted something to happen. Not that you’d try to pressure him if he wasn’t ready! But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t hoping this is how things would play out.

“As long as you let me touch you after.” He nods eagerly. You chuckle softly before turning around and flopping back on your mattress. “Okay, then. My body is all yours.”

There’s that panicked expression again. Also, he moves his arm to cover his crotch. “Um…maybe don’t say that again…”

“You know the whole point of this is us being turned on, right? You don’t have to hide it anymore.”

He sighs in defeat before admitting, “I don’t want to come fast and embarrass myself, okay?”

“If you come just from me talking to you then I feel like that’s a sign from the heavens to marry you.”

Your attempts at trying to ease his mind seem to be working because he grins at you when you say that. He closes the distance, putting his hands on either side of your head. “Wait. Keep going. I’m almost there.”

“You’re not really beating those allegations of being whipped that Shoko throws your way.”

“Sorry that I love my Sketch.” You instinctively turn your head away, overwhelmed by the emotions that build inside you when he says that. It was the wrong thing to do because he immediately pounces. “Eh?” He drops down on his elbows, lowering himself so his body presses against yours, and shifts to put his face right in front of yours. “You know the whole point of this is us being turned on, right?”

Figures that he’d throw your words back at you.

“It’s not me getting turned on,” you protest. “I…I’m not used to it yet! I’d react the same way if you said it in a non-sexual setting!”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” he sings. “I think it could totally be both. We should test it out!” And that smirk on his face spells nothing but trouble for your future. “Should I tell my Sketch how much I love her while I’m exploring her body?”

“I’ll give as good as I get,” you hiss. “I swear I’ll make you come so fast, Gojo Satoru!”

“But my Sketch wouldn’t make fun of me for that. She said so.” He’s still smirking smugly, putting his hand on your cheek to guide your head back toward the ceiling. “Because she’s so kind to me.” His face is above yours. “She’s as beautiful inside as she outside.” You squeeze your eyes shut. “All my dreams are coming true because of her.”

“Stop talking about me in the third person,” you stutter., betraying just how flustered you’re getting. “Just stop talking about me period!”

“Why?” One of his hands moves to your thigh, tentatively squeezing. “You like this, right? That’s why you’ve been squeezing your legs together.” You have been. You don’t want to admit it to yourself, but you’ve been trying to ease the pressure inside you, but his stupid waist is in the way.

This is infuriating—how your brain lights up like a firecracker at the praise yet somehow can’t handle it.

“Yeah, that’s why I’m doing it,” you explain slowly as a plan starts forming. You’ll just have to distract him. “Do you want to feel what you’ve been doing to me?”

He audibly gulps.

Satoru learns his lesson about rushing things. Your hunch about his sensitivity had been right. While he has his hand stuck down your shorts, having found a good rhythm after exploring that part of you, you’re on the cusp of orgasm and instinctively try to quiet your noises. Because of your height differences, your face is at his collarbones, so you give your mouth something to do by licking one of his nipples.

He tears you away from orgasm when he tears his hand away to grip at the covers. You pull your face away long enough to see him squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth, but his hips buck and he loses control. His groan is loud, almost sounding pained, but it felt like that for you, too, the first time you came from someone else’s touch.

“I forgot about the tongue piercing,” he wheezes when he’s come down from it.

You don’t remind him that he feels it every single time he kisses you with tongue. Mainly because he’s shoving said tongue back in your mouth as he kisses you roughly. You stop thinking when he shoves his hand back down your shorts and quickly sends you careening over the edge of orgasm soon after.

It happens on a random day in early November.

You’re meticulously going over all the details of a plan you’re going to propose to the higher-ups in a week. You’ve been buried in files, been forced to make potential recruitment calls, and test your math skills with someone from budgeting. You didn’t even know headquarters had a budgeting department. It’s been a test of your patience. No wonder nothing ever gets done. The higher-ups make it as painful as possible to even suggest a plan.

Shoko had dinner with you and Satoru. Though, it was more of a working one for you. Shoko demanded you leave the paperwork behind, but you primly reminded her that this is your apartment, and you’ll do what you want. And after you scarfed down your food, you were right back at the chabudai.

Shoko taps the chabudai, her fist in your field of vision. You glance up at her, blinking. She has her coat on and a cigarette hanging from her lips, ready to be lit and smoked as soon as she leaves. “I’m leaving,” she announces. “Please stop working for the night and entertain your idiotic boyfriend. He’s been watching you like a creep for the last ten minutes.”

Oh. You thought he’d sat down to play his Nintendo DS while you worked. It’s there, on the chabudai, but it’s off. Satoru has an elbow leaned on the table and, as Shoko said, is watching you with a grin. “He does that sometimes. He likes to watch my cursed energy.”

“And you actually believe that?” Shoko shoots back dryly.

“What else would it be?”

“Yeah, Shoko, what else would it be?” Satoru repeats in a mocking tone. “You don’t know me.”

“I do know you. You’re just openly doing the thing you’ve been doing since we were first years—looking at Duck like a lovesick puppy.”

You squint at Satoru who is having a stare down with Shoko. The flush high on his cheeks is a dead giveaway, though. “Well, it is his right,” you defend. “Be thankful we’re not in public.”

Shoko makes a noise of disgust. “He does it there, too.”

“I can’t control where or how he looks.”

“Ugh, I didn’t think it was possible for you to spoil him more.”  Then, she throws her hands up in defeat and heads toward the door. “I’m leaving now before I’m sent into a sugar-induced coma by watching you two swoon over each other.”

“Bye!” Satoru and you both shout after her simultaneously.

“See you!” Shoko calls back before the door shuts, so she clearly isn’t that upset about the behavior if she’s not storming out without another word.

It’s too bad Shoko didn’t stick around because her complaint did do something good which is pull you away from work. You lean up to your full height, back popping from being hunched over for so long. Satoru sees this as the perfect opportunity to tackle you to the floor and start peppering your face with kisses.

“Maybe she’s right,” you say between kisses and laughter. “Maybe I am spoiling you.”

“No, you’ve been depriving me of love, actually,” he whines. “And you haven’t even told me what you’re working on.”

“Because I know you’d threaten the higher-ups to accept it.”

“I would not!” He flattens himself against you, digging his chin between the valley of your breasts, pouting up at you. “I’d give them just a little nudge in the right direction.”

You tilt your head back against the tatami. How many times do you have to explain this to him? “I need to earn their trust. Does it make me feel sleazy? Yes. But it has to be done. We need someone on the inside. The whole reason you wanted to teach was to make stronger allies, to get people on your side rather than throw your weight around and scare everyone.” You run your fingers through his hair, scratching lightly as his scalp. “Let me handle the bureaucratic bullshit, alright?”

“Fine,” he agrees with a huff. Clearly, he’s not very upset because he bats his lashes at you, bottom lip stuck out, trying to look as cute as possible. “I still think you should do something to make up for depriving me of girlfriend time.”

Girlfriend time—as if you actually go out that much. Most of the time, you both exist in the same room, doing things that you both love while occasionally bringing the other into it. “Yeah? What do you want for your so-called compensation?”

Then, cheery as anything, he chirps, “I think you should fuck me!”

The weight of the request compared to the silliness as he asks it has your brain stuttering. “Um…like…you want to get off together?”

“I mean—” he scratches the bridge of his nose, “—hopefully that happens in the process. I don’t really know how long I’ll last when I’m inside you, though. I’ll definitely go down on you if I come before you. Or before.” He waggles his brows. “I’d like something savory for dessert.”

Heat rushes across your body. You’re not sure if it’s from arousal or being flustered. “Ugh, don’t…don’t describe me like I’m food—”

“I can be more descriptive if you want?”

“More?”

He nods eagerly. “Oh, yeah. I could wax poetry about your pussy.”

The absurdity of this situation has you dropping your head back and bursting out into laughter. This is such a filthy conversation to have, absolutely ridiculous, but you’re simply overwhelmed with love for him. It’s just so…Satoru. And you don’t know how you got so lucky to have this perverted dork love you the way he does. So brash and blunt yet so considerate and caring, thinking of every detail ahead of time to make sure you’re taken care of and happy.

“Just…just don’t,” you beg through your laughter. “No waxing poetry is needed.”

“Eh? But I made a haiku and everything!”

The fact that you don’t know if he’s serious or not has you laughing harder. “You’re so stupid,” you breathe out while tugging him up so you can get your mouth on his. “I love you so much.” He grins against your mouth. “Let’s go to bed and finally put that condom in your wallet to use.”

By the time you’re back in your bedroom, your shirt and bra are already off. Satoru made a brief detour to the kitchen for his wallet, but he’s nothing if not efficient, so his shirt is also already off when he sprints back to the bedroom with you. Condom wrapper between his teeth, he’s already unbuttoning his pants, too. Chuckling, you close the distance between you two, fingers hooking in his waistband, taking over tugging down his pants for him.

You’re both naked when you fall back on your mattress together. You’re sprawled out, but Satoru is on his knees, bracketing your legs. He claps his hands together and bows his head a little, looking so goofy while doing all this with a hard dick. “Please be gentle with me, Senpai.”

You snort. “You’re literally the oldest here.”

He drops the pose, hunching over so his face is hovering over yours. “But you’re the senpai in sex!”

“I’ve only had sex once.”

“One more time than me.”

In the corner of your eye, you catch the movement of him rubbing his hands against your sheets. Not suspicious at all. You see this for what it is. “Hey,” you whisper as you reach out to touch his cheek. “Are you nervous?”

“Me?” He scoffs dismissively. “No.”

So…yes. You place your hands on his bare shoulders, sliding them around to thread your fingers through the soft, white hair at the base of his neck. “Hypothetically, if you were nervous, then why?”

“Hypothetically,” he stresses as the bravado slips away for something less confident, “I want this to be special for you, and I’m worried I’m not doing that.” He pauses. “Again, purely hypothetical.”

“Purely hypothetical,” you repeat wryly before sighing. “It’s already special because it’s you. There’s nothing more for you to do but be the person I love.”

“Smooth,” he compliments.

Trying to keep the playfulness going to ease his nerves, you shoot him a sly grin. “Don’t worry. Senpai will take care of you.”

“Ooh, we should get your uniform skirt out and get some knee-high socks for you. That’d be so sexy.”

You lean forward to shut him up with a kiss.

It goes like that for a while, the two of you trading sensual kisses as you roll around. At one point, you’re on top, straddling him, grinding to chase after the flickers of pleasure when his cock bumps against your clit. He doesn’t let that last long, rolling over to pin you back underneath him, and he starts sucking bruises into your skin while pinching a nipple between his fingers. You give a ragged breath and cradle the side of his face in a hand.

Slowly, he kisses his way down your body—neck, valley of your breasts, and pausing at your belly. “Now or after?”

You’d really love to come on his cock. Fooling around with Satoru has made you learn you like being full when you come, but you’ve only done this once two years ago. “It’s easier when I’m wet,” you mumble. “And you’re…big.”

Satoru doesn’t even preen at the compliment, too eager to get down to your pussy. You’re not sure what you expected Satoru to be like in bed, but he loves going down on you. The very first time, it turned him on so much that he came in his shorts only after a few thrusts against the bed. And…you love it, too. A lot. Sometimes, it’s been hard for you to get off because you’re so distracted by the callousness of his fingers against your clit, but you don’t feel that with his tongue. But you feel guilty because it takes longer for you to come than him.

It's his first time, though, you think blearily as he yanks you further down the bed so he can drop to his knees on the edge of the mattress. If this is what he wants, then this is what he gets. You gasp softly at the first swipe of his tongue, heart racing with a blend of nervousness and excitement. You instinctively move to bite at your fist to silence yourself—a leftover from the few times you tried getting off when living with your parents. Satoru grabs your wrists before you can, guiding them to clench at the sheets, greedily wanting to hear you.

“Fingers,” you demand breathlessly when your legs start trembling. “Get me ready for your cock.” He moans against your pussy, the vibration making you yelp and unthinkingly clutch at his hair. He moans again and your toes curl. “Fingers,” you insist. All the thoughts just leave his head when he’s got his mouth on you.

Satoru manages to slip three in you before you barrel over the edge. You knew you were excited and turned on, but jeez. Usually, when he licks inside you along with his fingers, that’s never quite enough to finish the job, but not tonight. You end up boxing his head in with your thighs, trembling and arching up from the mattress. You’re blinking stars out of your eyes when he grabs you by the hips and manhandles you back up the mattress so he’s kneeling over you again.

“Should I wait?” Satoru hesitantly asks.

Dazedly, you answer, “Go for it. Just don’t make me try to come.” You hear the crinkle of the condom and lean up on an elbow, watching him rip it open. “Want me to help?”

“I say this with nothing but love in my heart for you,” he starts with a strained smile, “but do not go anywhere near my dick right now. Don’t even look at me. I swear I’m about to bust at just the sight of you looking like that, I’m so serious. All fucked out and like…like an ethereal goddess…”

You flop back on the mattress, staring up at the ceiling with a laugh. “Fucked out, maybe. Ethereal goddess? Now, you’re the one that’s spoiling me.” You spread your legs wider when he touches the inside of your knees, shivering when you hear that little hitch in his breath at the sight of you. “Someone has to be humble in this relationship.”

Satoru says nothing, so you tilt your head up, watching him. Kneeled between your legs, he has one hand still on your knee, absentmindedly running his thumb over the skin. In his other hand, he’s got the condom on and is holding his dick. He’s staring at your pussy with a weird mix of…determination and anxiety?

As your mouth is opening to check on him, he lifts his eyes to meet yours before nervously blurting, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

There’s another reason that he’s more focused on your pleasure than his own. Like in your first year, he had issues with control over Infinity—only around you and Suguru. “Come here,” you beckon while reaching out your arms for him. He flattens himself against your body, putting his face in the crook of your neck. “You won’t hurt me. Your body doesn’t recognize me as a threat, remember?” Satoru has only ever trusted you and Suguru, so deeply that his body acknowledged this truth before Satoru himself figured it out. “But we don’t have to keep going.”

“I want to.” His lips drag across your skin. Intimate like this, your nerves are livewires, sparking at even the lightest touch. “I want to be with you,” he confesses while lacing his fingers through yours. “I want to give this to you.”

Haven’t you already given me everything? Love and trust, above all else. He’s told you that he’s stared at the shape of your soul, but you don’t need his eyes to be able to see his just as well. When you’re with each other, there are no masks. They’re dropped at the door. You are yourselves, true and unabashed. Sketch and Satoru. This is to be known. This is love.

Satoru doesn’t stretch you as much at the first time you did this, but he reaches so much deeper. You keep control of his pace with your nails dug into the skin of his hips, pushing when you need a second to breathe. Just when you think there can’t be much more left, there is. And when he’s buried to the hilt, trembling under your hands, you swear you can feel him in your throat. You gasp, tangling your legs with his.

“Not lasting long,” he warns through gritted teeth.

“Wanna stay there?” You reach down between your bodies, giving an experimental glide of your fingers over your clit. Sensitive, but doable. “I can go again, I think,” you admit breathlessly.

“Yeah?”

Oh, the sound of his voice, husky and seductive, makes you throb. You clutch at him tighter. “Yeah,” you confirm. “You feel so good.”

“Fuck, not as good as you.” He gives an experimental roll of his hips, and you feel the shudder roll through him. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. It feels so good, you have no idea. I never wanna leave your pussy. I wanna die here. This is heaven. Actual heaven.” Your fingers trail across his collarbone, the skin flushed and glistening with sweat. “Please,” he begs. You hum in question. “Please, don’t go near my nipples. Please. I need some of my pride left.”

“Don’t worry. You’re doing so well right now.”

“No, no, no, let’s not do that right now. That is not helping the way you think it is.”

So, the reassurance did not reassure. “Sorry,” you apologize without really feeling sorry. You’re going to tuck that little tidbit away for later. He’s already struggling enough as it is. “You know you can come, though, right? That’s sort of the point. I got mine already.”

“I refuse to be a one pump chump,” he says with a huff.

“I could be really mean right now,” you tease as your fingers glide dangerously close to a nipple. “Is this what it feels like to be the strongest? I think I’m experiencing a power trip right now.”

Satoru snorts. You giggle. Then, the both of you are laughing. “And here I was trying to be serious about all this,” he says through his giggling.

“I don’t want serious. I want Satoru.”

He sighs softly, arching his back to get his mouth on yours. “You’re so romantic,” he whispers against your mouth. “I love you so much, y’know?”

You touch his cheek, smiling shyly. “I love you, too.”

The silliness melts away, tenderness and love remaining. Your earlier plan goes out the window because you don’t want to stop holding his hands when he laces his fingers through yours again, keeping them up by your head. It takes three thrusts before he’s gripping your hands so tight, entire body going tense, and moaning in your ear as he comes. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard and that is when you pull your hand away to rub at your clit. There’s no more burn of oversensitivity. You’re burning hot for him, and you come almost as fast as he does.

It's a quiet process afterward. He ties the condom off, easily tossing it in the little trashcan by your nightstand. You’re starting to doze when he shifts down on the mattress enough to place his head in the valley of your breasts. You card your fingers through his hair, eyes fluttering shut as you listen to his steady breaths.

“No Reverse Curse Technique tonight,” you mumble, halfway asleep. “Rest your brain.”

“Okay,” Satoru agrees as sleepily as you. “Phone off, too.”

“Good,” are the last words you remember being spoken before you’re drifting off.

[phantom-of-the-501st]

Why I think Sam has a right to be annoyed

Okay, waffle time! 🧇

I've been thinking about this since I watched Thunderbolts, but I've been thinking about it even more when it comes to the way some people have been placing the majority of the blame of the Sambucky Divorce™ on Sam (keyword there being some).

Honestly, if I was Sam, I'd be mad too. Sam has had to do a lot of work to be seen as being worthy of taking on the mantle of Captain America. It wasn't as simple as just taking the shield and the title, he had to show people that he was capable. And then he was tasked with rebuilding the Avengers, with, as far as I can tell, little outside help. I'm sure there are people who will give him a hand (like Joaquin), but for the most part, this is Sam's job to do. He somehow has to try and reconstruct a group that honours the legacy of not just the people who many see as heroes, but the legacy of many of Sam's own friends. That's not an easy task to do.

So, I don't imagine he's too thrilled that while he's working on trying to piece together this team, Valentina comes swanning in, in the middle of people trying to impeach her for experimenting on people, and simply goes "I have the New Avengers" and for the government to just... accept that? Sure, the public reaction wasn't great, but I imagine there would have been some pushback on whatever team Sam brought together too because they're never going to be what the original Avengers were. But for Sam, who is putting in all this work to take on the mantel of Captain America, to build a team who can help protect anyone, and to honour the legacy of his friends, this is a kick in the teeth.

And on top of all of that, the New Avengers are in the hands of the government, which is exactly what Steve didn't want. Steve fought against the Sokovia accords so that this wouldn't happen and Sam stood by him through all of that. The New Avengers being government-operated is a dishonour to Steve's legacy, and to the legacy of the rest of Sam's friends, so of course he's going to be upset with it all.

And obviously he's going to have issues with Bucky being involved! Bucky knew what Steve was fighting for with the Sokovia accords and yet he's going against all of that with this new group. Not to mention he now works for the person he was trying to help to impeach!

Sure, Bucky is going to have his reasonings for why he's doing all of this, but to say that Sam is wrong for having an issue with this is missing a huge part of Sam's character. Additionally, I don't think Sam suing for copyright infringement is a bad idea either. As far as we're aware, his team of Avengers doesn't exist yet, so he can't just ask the government to scrap the New Avengers because he'd have to justify the removal of a group of people who are currently in place to protect the people of Earth when he, at this point in time, doesn't have anything to offer up in its place. Suing for copyright isn't asking to dismantle the team, it's just asking to not dishonour the legacy of the Avengers by using their name for a government-owned group led by someone who was being pushed towards federal prison.

I've seen people getting annoyed at Sam for having an issue with the New Avengers being composed of ex-assassins/criminals (and how that's also disrespectful to Bucky considering Sam knows what Bucky has been through) but there's nothing in the end-credit scene to suggest that that is the problem he has with it. Admittedly, there's no concrete evidence that his issue is anything that I have stated above either, but I'd argue that it makes more sense, and is more in character for those to be his reasonings behind it than to assume he's suing just because he doesn't want criminals in the Avengers. The original Avengers were also composed of ex-assassins/criminals! Sam knows this and it would be downright hypocritical of him to use that argument against the current group.

We don't know how the conversation between Sam and Bucky panned out, just that it went poorly. Honestly, I think Sam has reasonable grounds to be annoyed, just like I think Bucky likely has some reasonings as to why he's staying with the New Avengers. I don't think it's as simple as one side being right and one side being wrong here, but I do think Sam's frustration is justified.

Do I think this is the end of Sam and Bucky's relationship as we know it? No. They've been through worse together, so I'm sure they'll sort things out. They're just going through a rocky patch for reasons that, to me, make a lot of sense.

[Side note: I also disagree with the whole "Bucky now has a family" mentality that people have been pushing following Thunderbolts* because what about the time he spent with Sam, Sarah, and the boys in their community? I'm not saying that the Thunderbolts don't count, because obviously they play a huge part in his life now, but they certainly aren't the first family he's been a part of in recent years.]

[sexisbetteronthemoon]

i NEED more older lance x younger keith from u plzzzzz u write it so well

thanks, man. i don't have anything to share at the moment, so pls just imagine college dropout Keith (who lives with his brother and Adam) getting a new neighbor and it turns out to be Lance who needed a more accessible home for his adopted kid who uses a wheelchair. (3.8k)

Keith sees Lance and his milf radar goes off with a vengeance.

Shiro and Adam force Keith to come with them to greet their new neighbor. Keith doesn't want to go and he refuses to change out of his old sweats. then Lance opens the door and Keith regrets every decision he has ever made in his life.

Shiro: if you ever need anything, please don't hesitate!

Adam: and if you need your yard cut, you can go ahead and borrow Keith. it's not like he has anything else to do.

Keith, under his breath: don't just volunteer me without even consulting me —

Lance: oh that would be great, actually!

Keith: i will do whatever you want forever.

Lance: do you know how to put up a swing set? or an IKEA bookshelf?

Keith: absolutely.

Keith: it comes with instructions, right?

Keith turns out to be very good at putting together impossible contraptions. he also catches Lance's eye as he mows the lawn shirtless. (by the end of it, he's covered in grass clippings and dirt, but this is actually a plus bc he's able to wash off under the hose with Lance none-too-subtly watching from the window.)

soon enough, Lance is asking him to emergency babysit and Keith finds himself absolutely enthralled with Lance's sweet child.

and Keith's brain switches from “I need to fuck that milf” to “I need to marry that milf and be a dad to this kid”.

things are going well, Keith thinks.

Lance trusts him and smiles when Keith flirts with him. he even almost flirts back. Keith's got this. he's thinking of making a real move. something to push their relationship forward. some way to make Lance see him as a man worthy of his attention.

then Lance asks him to babysit bc he has a date.

Keith is heartbroken, but he accepts bc Lance asked him right in front of his kid and the kid is so excited to hang out with Keith. and it's not the kid's fault that Lance is throwing all their progress to the garbage.

so he stays. and after the kid is asleep, Keith paces the living room in front of the windows, waiting for Lance to come home.

as soon as the car pulls up, Keith waits until he's sure Lance is on the doorstep, and then he opens the door, pretending very badly that he's surprised to see him there.

“i thought i heard something,” Keith lies. badly. and he stays at the door, waiting for Lance to come in.

Lance says a cordial goodnight to his date and nudges Keith inside the house. once the door is closed, Lance crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow.

“what?” Keith says, not quite meeting his eye. “i didn't mean to interrupt your date.”

he's full of it.

“i saw you pacing through the windows,” Lance says.

Keith sheepishly rubs the back of his head.

“i was just worried,” Keith says.  “what if he was an ax murderer waiting to kill you at the end of the date?”

“my hero,” Lance sardonically replies.

“you never know!” Keith says, defensive.

Lance rolls his eyes.

“right, well, it's late,” he says. “you can head on home.”

Keith frowns and turns to the door. but then he stops and turns back.

“are you going to see him again?” he asks.

“that's really not your concern, but yes,” Lance replies. “getting to know someone takes time, and i think i'd like to.”

Keith is quiet.

then he says, “why him?”

Lance doesn't say anything for a minute, too surprised to properly process the question. then he says, “why not? that's what dating is for. it helps you figure out who's right for you, and i would like to find that person for me.”

“you never even mentioned you were looking,” Keith says.  “you just showed up with plans all made — you didn't even warn me.”

“i didn't realize i needed your permission,” Lance says, eyes narrowed and shoulders tight, and Keith backtracks immediately.

“no that's not what i meant —”

“then what did you mean, Keith?” Lance asks testily.

and Keith bites his tongue for all of three seconds before he realizes that if he doesn't do something, he may very well lose whatever chance he had with Lance.

and Keith isn't good at words. so he doesn't attempt them. he merely takes one long stride forward, slips the fingers of one hand into Lance's hair, the other hand around Lance's waist, and tugs Lance into a firm kiss.

at first, Lance is stunned. then he's swooning, kissing back and holding on for dear life. but then it hits him that his much younger neighbor is kissing him.

and he abruptly pulls away, eyes wide, hand covering his buzzing lips.

“what are you doing!” Lance cries.

“kissing you?” Keith answers with a little confusion. “i thought that was obvious.”

“no,” Lance says. “no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. this isn't happening.” and his panic turns into denial.  “look, i know we play that little game where you flirt and i giggle about it, but that's not real!” he laughs nervously. “you're just indulging an old man. it's just for fun! you don't actually like me, you're just a little confused!”

Keith is incredibly annoyed and more than a little hurt.

“confused?” he bites out. “i've been flirting with you because i mean it! i've wanted you since i first saw you! i thought — well, i thought you got it. i've seen you checking me out, and i figured that maybe you were just too shy to be open about it. or that you weren't sure about your feelings and needed time. i figured i'd take it slow and wait until you were ready to catch up.”

Keith laughs suddenly.

“but i was never even in the running, right?” he says caustically. “you were just enjoying having me follow you around like a puppy dog. you never took me seriously. it was just a game  to you, and i was just too stupid and pathetically in love with you to see that.”

Lance is reeling, knees weak and heart racing. Keith is in love with him.

how did he miss it?

or had he known and simply been ignoring it all along?

because there are moments when Keith looks at him a certain way, heartbreakingly soft, where Lance takes pause and thinks, surely not.

is Keith right? has he been ignoring it all along? has he been enjoying the attention and keeping Keith at arm's length on purpose?

is he really that cruel?

“Keith,” Lance says, and then falters. he doesn't know what to say.

“kid's asleep,” Keith says, gruff. his expression has shut down, his feelings bottled up. he's almost scowling. “everything was fine tonight. i'm off.”

Keith grabs his hoodie off the coat rack and stuffs it under an arm.

“do me a favor,” Keith says into the silence. he opens the door. “find someone else to babysit for your next date.”

“wait,” Lance says, but Keith steps out and closes the door behind himself. he doesn't even look back.

frowning, Lance opens the door and steps out after him.

“this isn't how you handle an adult conversation!” Lance calls after him as Keith cuts across the lawn and jumps the fence to his own residence. “Keith! if you want me to see you as a man, then act like one!”

but it's Keith's first heartbreak, and he wants to be as far from the fault line as he can get.

Lance is very aware that he's hurt Keith. it's eating him alive, writhing in his stomach like maggots. Keith has become his best friend in the time that they've known each other. he's the one who Lance confides in. he is always attentive, always kind, and he's so good with Lance's kid.

Lance cares about him so much.

he hates the thought of having ruined their friendship. he doesn't want to lose it.

“this is why i —” Lance starts to complain aloud. he means to say it's why he's always held back when Keith flirts with him.

and it hits him.

oh. he has been actively avoiding the elephant in the room. oh no.

and now that the elephant refuses to be ignored, it's happening. he's losing Keith.

his stomach is clenching uncomfortable hard. he feels nauseated and his heart is squeezing unforgivably in his chest.

he goes to check on his kid, and finding them still asleep, he takes up his phone and paces the living room as he fires off a text.

Lance: come back here. we need to talk.

his text goes ignored. and he tries again.

Lance: i can't leave my kid alone. come back.

again, his text goes ignored.

Lance: please. this is a conversation we need to have face to face.

and when he goes ignored for a third time, Lance knows he's going to have to give Keith a reason to come to him. so he takes a deep breath and trembles as he opens up.

Lance: i'm sorry. i freaked out. but not for the reason you think. Keith, you're my best friend and i don't want to lose that. and if we get involved, i'm not the only one who stands to get hurt. i have to think of my kid too. you know well we're a package deal. please come back. i don't want to leave things like this.

he sends it before he regrets it, and then types up another text.

Lance: i don't want to lose you.

he stares at it, hands shaking, and he sends it too.

collapsing onto the couch, Lance breathes out and closes his eyes. he presses the phone to his forehead, waiting for the telltale buzz of an incoming message. but the seconds tick by and a hole opens up in Lance's chest.

maybe he left the screen on.

he opens his eyes and hesitates before he peeks at the screen.

it's off.

he unlocks it just to be sure.

there's no message from Keith.

his lips quiver and he purses them shut.

turning off the screen, he puts his phone down on the coffee table.

what was the use of baring his heart if it was only going to get stomped on?

“stupid,” Lance scolds himself. “you should've just let him go.”

hugging himself, he sinks back into the cushions and sighs, disappointed and hurt.

he's starting to work up into sniffles, eyesight blurring with tears, when there's a crash from his bedroom and a familiar voice cursing.

startled, Lance's heart starts to race even before he's up and running.

he swings into his room, heart in his throat, and there Keith is, collapsed on the ground in front of his window. Lance's decorative vase is in pieces on the floor.

“why are you climbing in through the window?” Lance demands, baffled and so relieved to see him that a note of hysteria enters his voice.

Keith struggles up onto his feet, brushing himself off and gives him a peeved look.

“Shiro's up and saw me coming in,” Keith grumbles, ruffling his hair and shaking off his clothes. “i couldn't leave through the front door, or he'd ask where i was going so late. i had to climb out the window. then Adam started harassing me about dinner. and once i was out, i realized i couldn't come in through the front because Shiro or Adam could see me from the windows.”

he finishes brushing himself off and shoves his hands deeply into his pockets, a little hunched and avoiding Lance's gaze.

“i didn't think you'd want them knowing i was coming over here, so i made an executive decision,” Keith said. he huffed a little. “anyway, i'm here. what did you want to talk about?”

Lance stares at him.

“didn't you read my texts?” he asks, shifting a little on his feet. his cheeks are warm and his heart is palpitating in his chest. he crosses his arms to hide the way his hands are shaking.

“texts, plural?” Keith answers with a little frown. “i only got the first one. it took a while to shake Adam off. and going out the window from the second story isn't exactly easy in the dark.” he pats down his pockets and comes up with nothing.

“i left my phone,” he mutters, and then he cringes. “shit, did you change your mind and not want me to come over after all?”

Lance breathes out, and he stares at Keith helplessly, hopelessly endeared. but at the same time, he wants to groan. of course he has to say all of that face to face.

“i'm surprised you even came over,” Lance admits, and Keith's shoulders hunch.

“i shouldn't have just run off,” he says. “you were right. it was childish.”

Lance takes a breath and sighs it out. he walks over, taking Keith's hand and leading him out of the mess on the floor.

“are you hurt anywhere?” he asks.

Keith tugs his hand away.

“i'm fine,” he answers shortly. he's still defensive and avoiding Lance's gaze. “what did you want to talk about? i thought things were pretty clear. you're not interested. i get it.”

Lance sits on the bed and pats the space beside him. he waits, and though Keith eyes the spot, he doesn't come closer. he stands away from Lance, the hand Lance held clenched at his side, the other still buried in his pocket.

Lance licks his lips and says, “i freaked out, and i'm sorry.”

Keith doesn't bat an eyelash. he just waits for whatever else is coming. his shoulders are tense, and his lips a thin line.

“Keith,” Lance says, voice soft, “you're my best friend.”

Keith blinks, a little surprised.

“i thought Hunk was your best friend,” he says.

Lance shrugs a little.

“he is, but he's also halfway across the country, living his own life,” Lance says. “it's not as easy to get a hold of him, and because of that, you're the one i've turned to. and along the way, you became my best friend.”

Keith nods like he understands. he looks to the side, thinking hard. he sighs and rubs at his face with his free hand.

“okay,” he says, and he sounds so tired. “i can do that. i can be your best friend.” abruptly, he closes his mouth with a click and his jaw clenches hard. his next words are nearly through his teeth. “just — can you hold off on talking to me about your relationships?”

Lance is extraordinarily confused.

“what?”

“you heard me earlier,” Keith said. “how i feel, and — just for a while. give me a chance to get over it. and we can be best friends.”

Lance stares at him.

“you're an idiot,” he says, and Keith bristles. before he can speak, Lance continues. “i'm not asking you to be my best friend. let me finish first before you jump to conclusions!”

“then be clear!” Keith snaps.

“i'm trying, this isn't easy for me!” Lance says.

“and you think it's easy for me?” Keith retorts. “standing here when all i want to do is kiss you, knowing i can't and hating it? wishing i could just claw out these useless feelings so i can look you in the eye without wanting to cry?”

Lance takes a breath and watches Keith tremble.

“i'm sorry,” Lance says. “i don't mean to hurt you.”

“i know,” Keith says, soft and sure.

Lance isn't sure how to reply to that unwavering confidence. he bites his lip.

“the thing is,” Lance says, “i don't want to lose you.” he looks up at Keith, noting the frown furrowing his brow. he's confused. Lance sighs and tries again. “i have a child, you know this.”

Keith nods.

“i don't want you to get your hopes up when i say this,” Lance says, “but i like you.”

Keith is blinking fast. he's swallowing hard.

“okay,” he says, and his voice is unsteady. he shifts his weight, his hand coming out of his pocket to hang by his side. “but?”

“but my kid and i, we're a package deal,” Lance says, and Keith nods again. “that means that if we become involved, i'm not the only one who stands to get hurt. if we have a relationship, and it doesn't work out, my kid reaps the heartbreak too.”

Keith frowns.

“it's not just me losing my best friend,” Lance says, “it's my kid losing a father figure and a friend.”

“how?” Keith says then.

Lance stares at him.

“what do you mean how?” Lance says, baffled.

“i mean how?” Keith repeats himself. “aren't you the mature one here? what, we break up, and suddenly i can't talk to the kid? parents get divorced all the time and they manage.”

“we're not married!” Lance yelps, cheeks burning.

“well, not yet,” Keith says with a shrug. “but even then, i won't sue you for custody or anything. i can still be a figure in the kid's life unless it's you who doesn't want me around. i grew up without parents, Lance. i'm aware of how much it sucks. i won't do that to the kid. so even if we break up, i'll still be around. we can manage it. the kid's more important than any hurt that comes between us.”

Lance inhales sharply, and his breath catches in his chest as his eyes sting.

“you say that now,” Lance says, “but what if it's a bad breakup? what if we hate each other?”

Keith gets an odd look on his face. he smiles wryly.

“i don't think it's possible to hate you,” he says. “you're not a cruel person, Lance. and neither am i. we're always going to put aside our own hurts for the sake of the kid.” he laughs a little, self-deprecating. “i'm here now, aren't i? for you. even though that really fucking hurt, what you said.”

the words are like fingers plucking his heartstrings, and Lance trembles all the way to his core.

“can you —” Keith cuts off. “trust me to be kind if we end up with irreconcilable differences. and i'll do the same for you.”

Lance bites his lips. his heart feels too large for his chest.

“i'm scared,” he admits quietly. “what if we do this, and i get hurt?”

“do you think i'll hurt you?” Keith says, just as quiet.

“i think you're young,” Lance says, “and that you could have anyone you wanted.”

“i just want you,” Keith says.

“for how long?” Lance says, looking away.

“how long you got?” Keith retorts. “Lance, i'm serious about you.” he gulps and adds, “i want to be with you for the rest of my life. i want anything you're willing to give me. and you're wrong. it's you who could have anyone.” he sighs. “for me, it's just you.”

“you say that now,” Lance says.

“and i'll say it tomorrow, too,” Keith says, exasperated. “i'll say it next week, next month, next year, next fucking decade. i'll say it forever, but it doesn't matter because you're the one who needs to believe me. can you just trust that i know what i want?”

and Lance doesn't have a comeback to that. because Keith is right. Lance is the one holding back here. he's scared of getting hurt, but he needs to trust Keith. he does trust Keith.

“okay,” Lance says, and Keith clenches his hands, body stiff.

“okay?” he says warily.

Lance nods.

“what does that mean?” Keith asks. he shifts on his feet. his hands release and clench again.

“it means i really like you,” Lance says, “and i want you to kiss me again —”

Keith is on him before he can even finish his sentence. hands cradling Lance's cheeks, he joins theirs lips and eagerly devours his gasp.

they don't separate until morning, when the kid is calling for Lance and Keith is kissing Lance goodbye for now and climbing out the window.

“can't you use the front door?” Lance hisses after him, mortified. “you're making me feel like a common hussy!”

“you want the first thing Shiro and Adam hear this morning is me coming in after spending the night at your place when i was supposed to have been in my room?” Keith says with a grin. “the only one getting called a common hussy around here is me.”

“they're going to find out regardless,” Lance objects.

“sure,” Keith says, “but Shiro likes to pretend that i'm an upstanding citizen and his innocent little brother, and i don't want to burst his bubble just yet. Adam knows i'm a scoundrel, but he hasn't convinced Shiro of that yet.”

“you're coming in through the front door from now on,” Lance says. “i'm not your dirty little secret, Keith.”

and Keith comes back to the window to kiss him one more time.

“trust me, i'll be yelling my love from the rooftops,” Keith says, and Lance blushes, pleased. “it's not like i can hide how happy you make me. but i want to get some sleep before work, and if Shiro catches me, he'll be yelling until it's time for me to go.”

“good point,” Lance says begrudgingly.

“don't worry,” Keith whispers, kissing him again. the kid calls for Lance once more, and Keith hurries to speak. “i'll tell Shiro about us after work, and then i'll come see you, alright? now go, kid's calling.” he pecks Lance on the lips and then he rushes to the fence, jumping it with ease.

climbing the side of the house in the light of dawn is much easier, and Keith makes it into his room in one piece.

he freezes when he finds Adam waiting for him, seated primly on his bed in his pajamas and robe.

he takes one, unaffected glance at Keith and says, “and where were you prowling all night, little tomcat?”

“i was just taking a walk,” Keith says, though he can't quite hide his smile.

“hmm,” Adam says indifferently. he stands and makes his way to the door. he pauses there and says, “Shiro is unaware of your absence. for now. you can explain after work. and if you don't want to worry Shiro before then, i suggest you hide those hickeys when you leave later this morning.”

he exits the room without another word, and Keith breathes out in relief that Adam's actually letting him get some shuteye.

he has no regrets, however, and he walks over to his bed, collapsing onto it with a tired sigh.

he falls asleep with a wide grin on his face.

*

i might edit this later on and turn it into a proper fic with capitalization and everything, but for now, just have this. sorry for any spelling/grammar/plot mistakes, i didn't edit this.

[beifong-brainrot]

Hey, it appears you've interpreted my post as some sort of critique on Republic City. And look, while I may have hurt your feelings in some weird way, I was simply talking about how Republic City missed a lot of world building opportunities. I actually disagree with a lot said in the linked article.

My problem with tlok isn't the development of technology, obviously. Its the fact that technology in tlok somehow developed the same way it would in our world. Like i am in no way saying that they can't have steam technology or electricity. I was simply positing a question whether it would be as needed and treated the same as in our world, where a lot of western technologies became widespread because white people were also... widespread.

Hell, since you're so hellbent on protecting canon, we see spirit based technology being developed in the show, so it's not an impossible concept to grasp that there are other sources of energy/ways technology can be applied in the atla verse.

And clearly, you didn't pay attention to the references i Linked, because you would take notice to the fact that silkpunk (I also explicitly said silkpunk media should be just a jumping off point) is less about a specific era in technology, and more about aesthetics and philosphy. The two silkpunk creators i linked have a lot of differences, as I aimed to show how diverse the genre could be. Especially with how diverse and vast the Avatar world is, I thought both sides of the spectrum could be applied.

And hey, look, a lot of the references I provided even account for the Fire Nations steam technology, which you keep pulling out like it's some sort of gotcha.

Like I just don't mesh well with the idea that for there to be "modernisation" in a world without the traditional "west", people still need to dress, develop the same politics and social structures as 1920s Amercans. And look, we can all go and call each other racist back and fourth (though I personally didn't use the word because i don't think its my place to be the arbiter of what is racist and what is not) but I never said that poc wouldn't use modern forms of tech, you're putting some very questionable words in my mouth, and I don't appreciate it.

I'd say that the equation if modernity and the western world is Weird on your part though. Like why are the nationalities who were previously all about long hair suddenly giving all their men short hair. Random new fashion trend? Maybe. But super convenient that its so widespread and it correlates so strongly with 1920s trans atlantic aesthetic. But short hair and suits that just Happen to look american just naturally come along with "modernity" and progress, right? It's only natural that whiteness will crop up as a society progresses, even if whiteness supposedly doesn't exist in this world, right?

Nothing to do with westernisation, I'm sure. Don't worry about ir

You're also forgetting that Republic City isn't just one city. It's just the capital if the United Republic of Nations, which was primarily made of the Fire nation colonies and the lands connecting them. You're making a frankenstein out of wealthy colonies where Fire Nationals hold most of the power and areas that probably spent like 100 years fighting off colonies. What do you think is going to happen here.

Do you really, honestly want to tell me that a republic created by essentially squishing colonies together Wouldn't have any biases towards the previous colonists. Is that such an unrealistic position to hold?

Oh yeah, Lao, a ridiculously wealthy man living off ludicrous amounts of generational wealth was in a partnership with a fire national who was his equal (you know except for the part where he had a shitton of Lao's employees disobeying him and working in a dangerous mine without his consent and also hired mercenaries with direct affilation to fire lord ozai but hwy that was just a coincidence). Racism is solved because the 1% aren't oppressed actually.

Like I'm sure the extreme disparity that exists in Yu Dao (which may i remind you, still a part of the Republic, still incredibly wealthy-ergo infulential, and the whole reason the Republic Exists) doesn't exist everywhere in the United Republic, but to say there wouldn't be traces of it in the country is an incredibly rose tinted way to look at it.

Tldr, tlok's Republic City is incredibly sanitised and simplified for what it is supposed to be.

And hey, that seems to appeal to you, so good for you, it's the canon you got. I think it could've been more complex and intricate, and I didn't get that. Like what do you want from me. I still love tlok, I don't mind Republic city as much as you seem to think I do.

Considering what most tlok fans vs tlok haters feel about the setting of tlok, what are your personal opinions regarding the setting of Korra? Because at first I thought it felt jarring with the way it felt more “Americanized” mainly because of how Republic City appeared, but then some said it does resemble (maybe?) east asian cities like Hong Kong for instance. But then I’ve also heard about the reason why it felt jarring to begin with was more so the idea it poses in terms of the Industrial Revolution and it’s relations to imperialism (post below):

https://medium.com/@nettlefish/the-inescapable-whiteness-of-avatar-the-legend-of-korra-and-its-uncomfortable-implications-debc76bbf7f

Honestly, this is a subject I've tried to not speak of directly, being neither American, nor a member of the nationalities primarily depicted in Avatar. So take my response with a heaping portion of salt, ok?

I personally have a love/hate relationship with Republic City. I like the idea of an are where the four nations intermingle, prompting progress and growth. I also have talked at length about how much I hate the fact that the plot seems to revolve around this shitty poorly utilised oriental reskin of New York.

As for the question of whether RC is 'orientalised Western cities' or if it was actually based on actual East Asian cities, I think it's a bit of both. Mind you, I only have access to old photos and drawings, so my comparisons won't be ideal, but it seems the general buildings of the 'bulk' of Republic City do resemble cities like Hong Kong, Shanghai and Tokyo at the time.

It does however seem that the named buildings and areas, eg. places with actual importance seem to be be mainly inspired by actual western buildings.

Of course, there is also the issue that a lot of the buildings of major Eastern cities at the time looked the way they did due to western interference, and so we are posed with the question if Republic City, a city in a world where there are close to no European influences would even look like said cities.

But relying on these aspects of history leads us to irreversably tying westernisation to progress, which I cannot even begin to describe as a problematic and untrue idea. This further muddles the concept of tlok's industrial revolution, as it follows a very western pattern, eg. the devlopment of for example electrical power, telephones and telegraphs, and train lines which is what enabled another wave of colonialism. Trying to consider what would happen in a world where that never happened would be fascinating, and probably liberating for many cultures.

For example, would the world of Avatar even have a need for electricity in a world where Spirits and people who can control the elements with their minds exist?

I admit, it would probably be difficult to envision a modernised world without western/european influences off the cuff, but it is possible. It would take a lot of research and imagination, but it is possible. It would require isolating western influences and trying to establish new patterns in how the world could evolve without white ppl sticking their noses into everything. (I actually have personally been trying to 'reengineer' Republic City fashion bacause I want to redesign the Krew so I'm kinda in the depths of research hell on this lol. The things I do cause I miss sewing apprenticeship...)

The author of the article says that tlok is steampunk, which is an easy mistake to make, one I have made in the past. That still isn't the best choice for a post atla world, in my opinion. I believe tlok is actually more diesepunk. However, I'd say that if tlok wanted to cling to Avatar's clear wuxia inspirations, it should've opted for something like silkpunk, which, in simple terms, melds East Asian aesthetics, history and philosphies with fantastical technology. I say insimple terms because there is a lot more to silkpunk than just that, and not every "Asian scifi" is silkpunk, but if a creator were to attempt to do something of the sort, silkpunk would be a good jumping off point.

Here are some sources I personally used when researching the genre.

Ken Liu, the Author who coined the term Silkpunk explains the term

Interview with Ken Liu

Interview with silkpunk artist, James Ng

Now, when it comes to the sociopolitical narratives around imperialism and colonisation in tlok, I can only comment so much. But I agree with the author of the article that the Fire Nation imperialism and its results should've been explored more. And it would be SO easy. For example, in the comics we see a wealth disparity in between Fire Nation citizens and Earth Kingdom citizens of the area that would later become the Republic.

How would this develop over time? If we look at irl examples, we could see this gap become even wider due to lack of affirmative action. And, lo and behold, don't we already have an incredibly wealthy family canonically descended from Fire Nation settlers. Hiroshi may have described himself as just a humble shoe shiner, but it would be so easy to rework his backstory into being a nepo baby feeding off colonialism. Driving that point further, how would Mako and Bolin be treated as children of q mixed union? Would they be treated differently based on their bending abilities, or their appearance?

This could be easily incorporated into the characters' storylines and characterisation and would probably lead to some interesting dynamics, especially from the perspective of Korra, an outsider.

But the silence on the potential issues of discrimination in an america based city created off colonialism and imperialism is a symptom of another point. That Republic City is not only 'oriental America', it's also idealised 'oriental America.'

A lot of tlok feels like a very odd American centric fanfiction of history, with the America stand in always shoehorned in as important. Despite president Raiko being presented as an all around dickwad, Republic City itself is posed as a bastion of impartial fairness and as having a say in solving international conflicts. We're shown and told that extreme poverty exists in Republic City but we're never told why, we simply have to accept it as a fact of life, why don't we all go look at the cool rich ppl, look at Asami and her big airship, don't think too hard about Mako and Bolin's past.

The characters in charge of most of Republic City's important militias are nepo babies to soem extent, and skate by on their likeablity. Iroh II was cool for the ending of B2 and then got relegated to Raiko's spineless lackey. Lin is, in my probably very controversial opinion, a really bad chief of police in the most stereotypically American way possible.

I've talked ay length at how frustrating it is that we keep coming back to Republic City even when the actual plot is going on somewhere else. B2 and B4 have this problem in particular.

Instead of showing us primarily the perspectives of actually dealing with Kuvira or Unalaq's agression, throughout most of the seasons, the Krew are sorta chilling in Republic City talking how much it sucks that war crimes are happening somewhere else. It's giving American self centeredness to the max. But I think I've already screamed into the void about this a lot.

I will, however, say that the author of the article you sent me makes some crucial mistakes relating to the actual plot and scenes of tlok, which I wouldn't hold against her if it weren't the fact that she uses them to back her points. Points which are, mind you, mostly valid. But the author seems to misremember or falsely represent facts in the show to bolster these points, which is never a good look, even if you are making good points. For example, claiming benders being the only ones with political power in RC, as well as saying that the Council was made of benders, which is false. As is accentuating Korra's role as a Southern Water Tribe princess, whose father is somehow chief, despite also being the shamefully exiled brother of the Northern Water Tribe chief to bolster her opinion on tlok's theme on focusing on those in power. Korra is already the Avatar, a divine vessel. And her father being chief happened later in the show, after Unlaq was revealed to be a little shit. It is ultimately inconsequential to Korra's character, and makes her no more a princess than Katara was.

I can see what the author is trying to do and I think she makes good points, but it feels like she either didn't watch tlok very carefully, or is either intentionally or subconsciously skewing facts to fit her arguments. Making mistakes and oversights like this sours the whole text and is probably the reason I feel like agenda came first in this article. Be it a good agenda, it still leads to certain parts of the article feeling disingenuous to a cerain degree.

However, I do still see a lot of merit in the articke and agree with a lot of its points. I wish Republic City and tlok as a whole had delivered on the amazing concepts it offered, but due to a probable myriad of reasons, tlok will always feel slightly lacklustre to me.

[glacialswordsman-a]

https://www.tumblr.com/zeichannnnn/755317359918645248/they-arent-as-culturally-revolutionary-as-genshin?source=share

who even are you lol get out of my inbox

[teaboot]

On of the less intuitive things about love, I've found, of any kind, is the importance of needing things.

I didn't realize it until recently, but I've always seen love as something requiring sacrifice, selflessness, patience, and generosity- to ask for nothing is to be the best person I can be, small and quiet and never in the way, always happy and helpful, self-sufficient and present when desired.

It's only as an adult, now, that I'm beginning to see the selfishness of wanting nothing.

I cut my friend's hair in my kitchen the other day. They wanted a trim and I had the skills, so I offered, and was genuinely excited when they stopped hesitating over "bothering me" and took me up on it. It was a peaceful afternoon, and we had tea and chatted for an hour or more.

My brother and I shared popcorn at the movies a while ago. When I came time to pay, I pulled my card out like a wild western sheriff and slapped it on the machine before he could fight me for it first. The satisfaction was delightful.

Someone called me crying on the phone the other day. Kept apologizing for disturbing me at work, talking about how they were bothering me on my lunch break. I was telling the truth when I told them that really, I was flattered and honored and relieved, knowing that if they were hurting I would know, that I didn't have to worry in silence. It felt good to hear them slowly come down, and to know that they knew it would be better soon, and to hear them laugh wetly on the other end. We're getting together for a visit next week.

It's hard to need things, if you've trained yourself not to. It's hard to want things, when you don't know how to want anymore. Trusting people is difficult, and so is relying on them, but I don't know where I'd be without the people who rely on me.

I've heard a lot of people say, "Nobody will love you unless you love yourself". I've had a lot of thoughts about it. It's not right, but it's not wrong, either, I think.

"Nobody will love you unless you love yourself"... I've always taken that to mean, "You will not be lovable until you develop a positive view of yourself as a person".

Now, I think it's sort of inside-out.

"Nobody will love you unless you love yourself"... because nobody can show their love to you in a way that you can accept until you treat yourself kindly, and learn what you need, and what you want, and how to ask for it, and then give that vulnerability away.

Love, for me, is someone I ask for a ride to the airport. Whether they end up doing this or not is irrelevant.

It's not needy, or selfish, or taking up energy. It's giving the gift of being wanted, and needed, and thought of. It's giving someone the security of being part of someone's life.

[mako-island-moon-pool]

Why am I flipping tf out over my roommate going into my room when I wasn't home and leaving a package on my bed it's literally not a big deal and they were trying to be helpful but I am shaking right now I should be happy I got my new favorite shirt but I'm so angry

[sheeezu]

Yes, this is a new account, I just made this. I don't care if people question the authenticity of my post, my experience as a shifter, or whatever I'm about to say.

I don't know how to use Tumblr, nor do I know how to make my post reach people who need it, nor would I be a narcissist and say "you're lucky if you found my post!" I don't mind if this reaches an audience or not, I'm glad to get everything off my chest.

Yes. I've shifted.

I have shifted realities, more times than I can count on my fingers, and that is for a very specific reason, which I'll explain later.

I'm writing this because I'm about to permashift, and no, I won't hear out any antishifters or people who don't like permashifting in general, I don't care about your opinion so don't waste my time.

Before I start, I'd like to say one thing:

I was irrational minded, I lacked belief in myself and shifting. Shifting often times felt like a chore more than a fun activity, and i have to admit, it became an unhealthy habit.

So? Why did I mention this?

Because I had been lurking around shifting communities and I realised everyone feels like this, a very (mentally) painful feeling where the lack of shifts starts acting as your biggest enemy, and the phrase:

"Shifting needs practice!"

Sounds like poison when it comes from an experienced shifter.

Though, is the phrase actually true?

No, not at all.

Shifting does not need practice!!

Here's why:

(BTW, I will explain my "method", no matter if I have time or not. Also, I don't call this reality "Current Reality", instead I call it Void reality, so don't get confused.)

The "practice" you're doing is only affecting your void reality (taking time out of your day, making you constantly think you're in your learning phase, so it doesn't exactly lead to your desired reality, does it?)

Of course, if you view it as a skill, it will in some way act like that, it'll become a skill for you, and you can never succeed on your first, second, third, hundredth try, because in your brain you have registered the fact that shifting is this grand, universal task, and that it is very difficult (because its common sense that you practice difficult things to get good at them)

Practice is a very humane and earthly act, if people have succeeded doing just practice, then good for then, they're right in their own way, but it didn't work for me, and in my opinion it's the worst way to view shifting, and often times it is demotivating, and you'll mess up you're entire journey.

Shifting is not a skill, shifting is a universal law.

I'll become more clear as I explain my journey:

My journey:

I found shifting from a random YouTube video 3 years ago. I might have only said cool and moved along.

A year later something traumatic happened in my life, which shook me so badly I needed an escape.

First of all, I chose astral projecting, but I realised I was too much of a coward to do so.

Then I came towards shifting, first DR was very typical, it was Hogwarts.

Having no knowledge whatsoever in the topics of spirituality, meditation, I went straight to methods, because they were like guides for me, I was very inexperienced, of course, and looked at other people and what they were doing for guidance.

Alice in wonderland method didn't do much, raven method was too uncomfortable (side note, all this raven method does is make you too focused on your void reality, cmon, in your DR are you laying down like a starfish?) And I was having terrible trouble with my intrusive thoughts (which made the floor disappear from under my feet, made the stairs for the stairs method too short to climb or straight up made them dissappear as well)

I didn't have any luck that year, no mini shifts, no lucid dreams, or sleep paralysis. And my DRs never remained constant. They always changed on a daily basis.

I was big on methods, I couldn't realize they never worked for me.

Although, this year of failure led me to finally figure out where I belonged.

A DR made out of scratch, which I spend much effort in putting the pieces of it together.

The DR, which was called "Home reality" really made me feel settled in my journey.

LOA, and the consciousness theory were the leading factors which made me shift.

And don't worry, it isn't what you're tired of being told, I didn't just apply any orthodox definition of LOA and succeeded.

Background to my first shift:

It was a particularly stressful day, I really missed my home.

I was studying at my college (I still am, but...) and I was dreading giving a chemistry test, I did not prepare. In my mind, one thing was constantly looping in my head.

The scenario of the chemistry teacher coming in, and taking the test, and the next day I get it handed back with a big fat zero.

But then I stopped and wondered, having already known about the consciousness theory, so according to it:

"I am constantly letting this thought run in my mind, and constantly letting this reality dictate what happens next."

Basically, I realized what was about to happen next was indirectly in my control, but with my line of thinking, I was letting this reality control it directly.

I stopped, like actually stopped thinking.

And with a blank mind I thought.

"I won't have to take any test today."

And went around telling my classmates this with a confident tone.

The teacher came in, said we'll instead do some practicals in lab.

So the test got cancelled.

Going home, I got excited, i felt powerful.

I decided to apply this to shifting.

Before shifting, I took a nap during the day, (if you're tired your body insists on sleeping, so your mind will get hazy and you will start acting lazy towards your goal)

And after living how I normally would, before bedtime, I listened to some songs, and look at a Pinterest board which reminded me of my home reality.

My method and what happened next:

First phase of shifting:

When I laid down on the bed to start shifting, I first got comfy (for me, if I feel sleepy for some reason, I laid on my back, I can't fall asleep in that position, but if I think ill stay awake until I reach a "detached state" then I sleep on my side, it's comfortable)

I obviously wasn't checking the time, but I spent about 10 minutes getting relaxed, all I do to relax is:

a) look at the blackness (closed eyes, looks like starry skies) and try to believe I'm looking at the milky way.

b) think about my home reality, just faces of my loved ones, and nostalgia inducing images.

c) Affirm, but don't focus entirely on affirming, usually in the back of my mind I'm repeating "I have shifted to my home reality" "I have shifted my senses to my home reality" "I have stopped sensing the void reality" "I am smelling, tasting, feeling, hearing and seeing my home reality" no other fancy affirmations required. (Now that I think about it, you need to affirm NOW because this method has two phases, one where you are shifting, and one where you have shifted, and you are in the 3D, where you are occupying your DR self, their thoughts, and memories, and popular method usually only have one phase, either you are shifting, or have shifted. So my point is if you affirm later and you'll be affirming when you're supposed to be in your DR, and obviously, your DR self won't be spouting out affirmations about shifting to a random reality for no reason.)

During this time, you'll feel tingly all over. It's a good sign.

And you'll feel a certain detachment, like you aren't exactly here, you have no idea what position you're lying in, and where your feet are. (Please, for the love of God do not start counting your feet or get freaked out that you can't feel your leg, you'll come back to the void reality.)

So you can start the next phase.

Middle phase (optional):

To prepare for the next and last phase, you can do this to get ready, or don't (First read the third phase)

This is all about connection to your DR.

Think about memories from your DR, focus on the faces of your loved ones, the way you act, talk, your mannerisms in your DR, or you can simply say affirmations like these one:

My name is ___.

I work as a ___.

My age is ___.

Don't try to imagine vividly or anything, lightly touch upon the basic details of your DR, the construction and foundation of any reality and the person, who has existed there for their entire life.

(That's you!)

Phase three:

Take a sudden, abrupt stop from your stream of thoughts. (Yes intrusive thoughts will still pop up but don't give any importance to them) when you're in a blank state of mind, not longer than 30 seconds, you need to build up to the last step of your shifting method, and journey.

a) start imagining hearing the voices of your loved ones or just any voice, calling your DR name, your nicknames, with different tones. (For example, i heard my name in an angry tone from my father when he was scolding me, I heard my name followed by a laughter when my S/O teased me.)

OK, for me, I started feeling intense, groundshaking symptoms at this moment. Sudden flashing of lights, extreme feeling of floating, and ofcourse, feeling tingliness so much that it felt like pins and needle on my entire body. (I did ignore the symptoms)

b) plan the rest of your day in your DR, which you will be spending.

AGAIN, PLEASE DON'T SAY IT LIKE THIS.

❌️When I reach my DR ❌️ I will have to go to that eye specialist for that appointment.

Instead: (and the more you personalize it, the better)

Ughhh, I have to go to that appointment- this day will suck.

(Don't mind my example, that was the only thing I could think of at the moment)

c) in this reality, you are constantly thinking of something, your thoughts are definitely what constructs this reality, and your current thoughts are affecting your subconscious. (By this point, your subconscious is grounded in your DR, so don't worry about that bastard.)

Now, you're going to start thinking, thoughts which are going on in your DR self's mind, start with one sentence, with which you'll be able to start consciously thinking like your DR self.

And think in the style, tone, and mood of your DR self, and keep the thoughts strictly related to your DR.

Thats it, but what happens afterwards? And what happened to me?

So for me, I started feeling weird while I was thinking.

And I remember I thought this:

"Ugh, I don't want eggs for breakfast."

(I'm not saying this is the key to shifting, at this point, I had covered various topics, including, weather, my upcoming work assignment, and praised my S/O for a good 5 minutes.)

And I started panting, like suddenly I was trying to catch my breath, the room felt bright, so I opened my eyes, and well, I was in my home reality :)

I was delirious for a few second, my S/O was looking at me worriedly, but surprisingly, it didn't even take me a minute to adjust, it felt all so natural and I wasn't scared.

I didn't even feel emotional, at all, and didn't hug my S/O with tears in my eyes, I straight up asked to be served breakfast, incase anyone was wondering.

So that's it.

Although i have much to say, I'm tired of writing, but I'm more than willing to answer each and every one of your questions, although I only have 7 hours left till I permashift, I'll remain mostly active till then.

And no, I'm not rereading this to fix my grammar, so just ask if anything confused you.

Ask away.

I'm still not sure if this'll reach anyone or not.

[asahicore]

stupid in love - psh (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact

pairing. best friend!sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis. One night early on in your summer vacation, your best friend Sunghoon admits that his biggest anxiety about starting college is going there as a virgin - one thing leads to another, and you end up learning a few things from each other. The more time passes, the more obvious it becomes that your feelings for each other surpass friendship, but with the end of summer looming over your heads, it's hard to tell where these newfound emotions will lead you.

genre. best friends/childhood friends 2 lovers, summer au, lots of fluff and smut but also some angst to spice things up, when i say smut i mean LOTS of smut. like mostly smut lol (mutual first time, ice play, crazy stuff)

word count. 22.1k

a/n. bringing this one back from the pits of my google docs guys.. its been so long since i've posted anything and im not sure when the new hoon fic will be ready so i thought i'd repost an og asahicore fic!!! the title was originally 'hot like ice' but i changed it bc this is my blog and i do what i want <3 i'd also like to say that in terms of plot this is probably not something i would write nowadays, it's very smut-heavy and thats not what im about now idk i was crazy back then... but i rmb being happy w this fic and its reception when i first posted it so i'm happy to have it back on my blog and hope u guys will like it too <3 as always lmk what u think!!

It all started with a lollipop. Well, two, to be exact. One strawberry-flavored, one apple-flavored. 

You stand in front of your friend, lollipops in hand. “Which one do you want, Hoon?” 

“I don’t mind, just pick whichever one you like best,” he replies absent-mindedly, eyes on the TV as he tries to find a suitable movie for this late summer afternoon.

You plop down on the couch next to him and look at the two lollipops in your hands, unable to decide which flavor you like better. “I don’t know what I feel like right now,” you announce to an uninterested Sunghoon. “I’ll just try both.”

That seems to catch your best friend’s attention. He watches as you unwrap both candies, tasting each once, twice, then as you decide you want the apple-flavored lollipop and hand him the strawberry-flavored one. He doesn’t take his eyes off of your lips as you wrap them and swirl your tongue around the candy, letting its sweetness wash over your taste buds. You raise your eyebrows when you notice his staring and he blinks a couple times, trying to snap himself out of it. “Did you want the other one?” you ask, confused by his behavior.

“N-no, I like strawberry,” he stammers, turning his gaze back to the screen in front of you and settling for ‘When Harry Met Sally,’ a movie you’ve both seen a thousand times but never get bored of.

You’re used to Sunghoon getting lost in his thoughts, so you don’t question it much. You sit back on the couch, your knee touching his. You two are no strangers to a little skinship - after being friends for almost eight years, physical contact comes naturally. You have to admit that recently, it’s started to feel different; but the idea of your friendship changing tugs at your heartstrings so much that you ignore the prickles on your skin when he hugs you or the way your stomach flips when he smiles at you, dimples and sharp canines on display. You tell yourself it’s all stupid and that you can handle so much as your knees touching.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, can't. The lollipop in his mouth right now was in yours mere moments ago and you’d given it to him like sharing saliva was no big deal. He feels like a thirteen year-old for thinking like this, but this was pretty much an indirect kiss.

He stares at the TV screen, but all he can see are your perfect lips sucking that lollipop, and his mind is desperately not trying to go there, but he just cannot help himself. Blood rushes to his dick as he pictures your mouth around him, sucking him off with as much enthusiasm as you are the lollipop. Would you like his taste? Would you look up at him with those pretty eyes of yours, smiling even with his dick stuffed in your mouth?

His own thoughts catch him off guard, and before they can get any wilder, he runs off to the bathroom, knowing he’d never live it down if you caught a glimpse of his erection. Thankfully, you don’t, and you call after him, asking if he wants you to pause the movie, to which he shouts back a strangled ‘no.’

He comes back ten minutes later, face flushed and breath heavy. “Goddamn, Hoon, I know we’re best friends, but if you’re going to dump a massive load, I wished you did it in your own bathroom and not mine,” you tease him, laughing as his face gets even redder and he opens his mouth to protest.

“I was just on my phone!” he replies, mildly offended.

“Whatever,” you say, still laughing, and turn your attention back to the movie.

Well. Sunghoon would rather have you think he just took a huge shit than have you know he came to the idea of you sucking him off and swallowing every last drop of his cum. 

--

A few days later, you and Sunghoon are lying on his bed, the both of you on your backs, talking about this and that as you often do. It’s almost 3 a.m., and it feels almost rebellious, being up this late after months of waking up at 6, but your high school graduation was a week ago and you feel like you can do anything. The dim fairy lights you forced him to put up and the bright moon outside are the only sources of light in the room, and when you turn to look at him, you can just make out the outline of his face, the curve of his nose, the sharpness of his jaw. You've looked at him a thousand times before, so your memory makes up for what the light takes away from your eyes. You shift to lying on your stomach, propping yourself up on your elbows so you can take a better look at your friend. Something about the moonlight makes him look ethereal, and his beauty makes your heart skip a beat, but you’d never admit that to him. Out of habit, you reach out to touch his moles, gently placing your middle finger on his nose and your pointer finger on his cheek. Sunghoon closes his eyes at your touch, used to the warm feeling that settles in his stomach whenever you do that.

“Y/N?” he calls out, just as you pull your fingers away from his moles.

“Yeah?”

He opens his eyes again, meeting yours. “Is there anything you’re scared of for next year? You know, heading off to college and all that?” You shift again and lie on your back, the sides of your two bodies touching. You stare at the ceiling for a while, thinking about his question, and Sunghoon patiently waits for your answer.

“I’m scared about not making friends. I’m not the least outgoing person ever, but it’s so intimidating, not knowing anyone. And it’ll be weird not having you around. Shut up,” you warn before he can make an egotistical remark, so he just chuckles. “I’m also worried about the amount of work I’ll have. I’ve heard so many times that it’s a huge step-up from high school, the workload and the type of work and all that. What if I don’t even like the degree that I chose? I know I can change it, but it still stresses me out. Turning 18 doesn’t feel like a huge deal, but going to college does. It’s when all the responsibility hits. My mom told me to make my own doctor’s appointment the other day, and I almost cried when I had to call them. I’m not gonna have anyone to do my groceries for me. I’m scared I might get an awful roommate. I hate the idea of communal showers. I don’t even know what I want to do after college, and I know I have four years to make up my mind, but I’m scared those four years are gonna flash by and I’ll be indebted and unemployed by the end of it.” You pause to take a breath, and you can feel Sunghoon’s eyes on the sides of your face, but he doesn’t say anything. “Also, I heard that you put on a lot of weight during your freshman year.”

You turn to look at him to find him smiling at you. “Wow. That’s a lot.”

The two of you giggle, eyes not leaving the other’s. After a moment, you turn your gaze back to the ceiling and sigh. “Yeah, I know. But I’m more excited than I am scared. What about you?”

Sunghoon follows your gaze and looks up above him. He doesn’t say anything for a while, and when he finally speaks up, he says it so quietly, you almost don’t hear it. “I’m scared of going to college a virgin.”

You try to stay serious for a few seconds, but you can’t keep your laughter in and snort loudly at your friend’s words, laughing so hard your stomach starts to hurt.

“Don’t make fun of me!” he whines, hands coming up to cover his face.

It takes you a while to calm down; not only was Sunghoon’s statement ridiculous, it was so unexpected that you couldn’t stop laughing. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you apologize, catching your breath. “I just can’t believe that that’s what you’re scared of, of all things.”

“What? It’s a perfectly reasonable concern,” he defends himself.

“Nobody’s gonna care if you’re a virgin, Hoon,” you try to reason with him, but if there is one thing your best friend is, it’s stubborn.

“I’m gonna care! What if I like a girl but I can’t bring myself to make a move on her ‘cause I have no experience?”

“But Hoon, chances are she doesn’t have a lot more experience than you do! She’ll be the same age we are, dummy. We’re not sixteen year-olds jumping into a world of twenty year-olds. Sure, some people have their first time in high school, but a lot do it at university. You’ll be fine,” you reassure. His furrowed eyebrows and pout tell you he’s not fully convinced, though.

“Oh, c’mon! If you really want to lose your virginity before leaving, we can get you laid during the summer. I’m sure we can find a girl nice enough,” you tease, jokingly patting his bicep, trying not to make a note of how firm the skin feels under your hand.

Sunghoon sighs, and you can tell he’s actually taking this seriously. “I’m not that desperate that I’d have sex with the first girl that agrees, you know. I’d still rather do it with someone…” He glances at you for just a second. “Someone I trust.”

You feel your face heat up at the possible meaning behind his words, so you look away, not wanting him to see the effect they had on you. He changes his position on the bed, and now it’s his turn to prop himself up on his elbows and look down at you.

“What about you, Y/N? Don’t you think it’d be good to get a bit of experience before going off to college? It’ll be one less thing to stress about,” he says, a small smirk playing on his lips, and his shy demeanor from moments prior is completely gone. Out of fear that his ego would get even bigger, you'd never tell him, but you love it when he gets like that - when he thinks he’s the shit and teases you mercilessly. You know he does it lightheartedly, and it never fails to bring a smile to your face.

Except right now it does. You’re not smiling, far from it; you’re looking up at your best friend, mouth slightly agape and wide eyes searching for a sign that he may be just joking. He raises an eyebrow expectantly, and your reaction is to scoff at him. 

“Do I need to remind you that you’re the reason I have no experience to begin with, Park Sunghoon?” you ask, sitting up on the bed to peer down at him. He shifts again and lays on his back, his hands coming up behind his head as he beams at you.

“Am I really?”

You wish you could slap that shit-eating grin off of his face. This is not the first time you're having this conversation. “Yes, Hoon. Every time a guy was even remotely interested in me, you chased them away. I’m still not over you telling Kang Taehyun I have smelly feet! I had a huge crush on that guy!”

Sunghoon loudly laughs at the memory, and you curse yourself for cracking a smile when you see his face scrunched in laughter. “That was in Year 5, Y/N! It’s been years!”

You grab a pillow and throw it at his head, unable to not laugh along with him. “What about Bang Yedam, then? That was only last year, and you totally ruined my chances with him!”

“Listen, if you having a creepy doll collection is enough to make him not ask you out, then he must not have liked you that much.”

“But I don’t have a creepy doll collection! That’s the whole point!” you say, on the brink of desperation. You sigh at your friend who’s still catching his breath from laughing so much. “You’re just lucky they didn’t repeat your bullshit to anyone. I would’ve had such a weird reputation otherwise.”

“Of course they didn’t. I told them I’d kill them if they did,” he stated matter-of-factly, as if that was a normal and appropriate thing to do.

“Couldn’t you have threatened them that way so they wouldn’t ask me out instead of lying to them about me?”

Sunghoon stares at you for a few seconds, eyes seemingly empty of thought. “Huh. Yeah, I guess I could’ve done that.”

“Ugh,” you groan, and plop down on the bed next to him. Neither of you says anything for some time, until you break the silence again. “You know you even stole my first kiss, Hoon,” you speak softly.

“I know,” he says, voice just as quiet as yours. “You never shut up about it.”

“Why would I? I was about to kiss Lee Heeseung, of all people, the boy everybody, including me, had a crush on, but no, someone had to get between us and kiss me in his stead,” you grumble, giving your friend a harsh side-eye.

Sunghoon sighs and shakes his head as if you’re being irrational. “I don’t get why you’re so hung-up on that. Why would you want your first kiss to be because of a middle-school party dare rather than have it with your best friend, whom you know and trust?”

“It was Lee Heeseung, for God’s sake!”

“And I’m Park Sunghoon!”

Still both laying on your backs, you turn your heads to look at each other. There’s something in his eyes you’ve never seen before that you can’t quite put your finger on. The person in front of you is one you’ve known for years now and yet the look in his eyes is of such unfamiliar intensity that it makes your stomach flip. You inhale sharply when his eyes drift down to your lips, and you can’t help but mirror his actions. The atmosphere has flipped like a light switch; it was playful just mere seconds ago, the sound of your usual banter filling up the room. All of a sudden, there’s something heavy dancing in the air around you, and it makes your heart skip a bit faster and your breath a bit shallower.

Your voice is barely above a whisper when you say his name.

“Yeah?” His eyes snap back up to yours, but you're still stuck on his lips. Have they always looked so kissable?

“Why did you do that? Why did you push those boys away from me?” you ask, even though you’ve asked this question a thousand times before. You want to hear his answer again.

“I’ve already told you. You deserved better than them.” Whenever you ask him about it, Sunghoon always stops here, and you never push. But there are unspoken words left hanging that you’re dying to hear.

“Who, then? Who’d be better than them?”

He's quiet for a second. “It’s a secret,” he whispers finally, a small smirk teasing his lips, and you roll your eyes at him. But then your eyes meet again and your breath hitches. You shift to your side so you can face him more fully, and he mirrors your actions. 

It’s his turn to say your name. “Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you kissed anyone since?” he asks, coming off shyer than he’d intended to.

You giggle and smack his shoulder lightly. “Why do you wanna know?”

He snickers too and, to your surprise, stops your fist from hitting him a second time, enveloping his larger hand around yours and laying it between the two of you on the bed. “Cause I should know that sorta thing. Also, if you did kiss someone since then, and I didn’t know about it, I'd be upset.”

“Why would you be mad?” you say, still giggling, trying to ignore the way your heartbeat quickens when he threads your fingers with his.

“Because you wouldn’t have told me!”

“Well…”

“No way, Y/N,” he practically shouts, already feeling betrayed, his free hand coming up to grip his heart in fake shock.

“Let me at least finish first,” you protest. He obliges, although he doesn't look very happy about it. “You know that summer 2 years ago I went away to camp?”

“Yeah, worst summer ever.”

“Well, I did sort of… get with someone, that summer,” you say, avoiding Sunghoon’s wide eyes as he gasps loudly.

“What? Who with? How come you didn't tell me?” he exclaims, letting go of your hand. He sits up on the bed and crosses his arms over his chest like an annoyed child. 

“Because of this exactly.”

“What’s this?”

“Your reaction right now!” you say, sitting up as well, both of your knees grazing his. The simple touch sends a shiver down your spine that you can only hope he takes no notice of.

“Wouldn’t you be a bit upset if I told you I ‘got with’,” he air-quotes, “a random girl two years ago?”

“No? Especially not if it was two years ago?”

You both look just as confused as the other, obviously not on the same wavelength. He furrows his eyebrows and glares at you. “Well, I am.”

You throw your head back in laughter and place your hands on his knees, but when you come forward again, you overestimate the distance between the both of you and find yourself mere inches from his face. The laughter immediately dies in your throat, and you feel it go dry when your stunned reaction elicits a smirk from him. You don’t know how long you stare into his eyes, all you know is you snap out of it when his gaze drifts down to your lips once more. You’re closer now than you were before, and having him so close makes your mind spin with all the possible outcomes of such proximity. You lean back on the bed, pulling away your hands from his knees to hold yourself up on them.

“There’s no reason to,” you say, hoping that breaking the silence will dissipate some of the tension in the air. You keep going back and forth between familiar and dangerous and you don’t know how long you’ll be able to handle that atmosphere. “It’s not like anything grand happened. We made out a bit and held hands. We never spoke after that summer, otherwise you’d have known about it.” 

Sunghoon lets out a low hum. His eyes are still trained on yours, and you wished he’d look away because you can’t seem to do it yourself. He still doesn’t say anything, so you speak up again. “You say that like you’ve never had girlfriends, by the way. Surely you’ve done more than just kissing.” Silence again, and you can’t decipher the look he’s giving you. “So, I don’t know what you’re so scared about, because it’s not like you have zero experience. I’m sure the girls at uni will love you, Hoon.”

He sighs and finally tears his eyes away from yours, and you’re not sure if you’re seeing things because of how dark and late it is or if there’s an actual blush creeping on his cheeks. “Sure, I’ve had a couple girlfriends, but you know they’ve never lasted long,” he says, looking down at his lap. “We made out… I guess I-” he gives you a quick glance, “I’ve touched their boobs and they’ve touched my… you know…”

You can’t help but giggle at how shy your friend is suddenly being. “Can’t even say the word ‘penis’, Hoon?,” you tease, and his eyes snap back up at yours.

“Of course I can. Penis! There.” You look at each other for a few seconds before bursting into laughter, Sunghoon hushing you so you don’t wake up his parents, but his hushes are louder than your laugh. After a couple minutes, you calm down and wipe your tears away, grateful for the break in the tension between you and Sunghoon.

“Anyway, yeah, I guess I don’t have that much experience. Which is why I brought it up in the first place.” And just as quickly as it’d left, the tension is back again.

You look around the room because the weight of Sunghoon’s gaze on your face is unbearable. You release a shaky breath when you feel his gentle hand on your knee, and your eyes drift to it, but you can’t get yourself to look him straight in the eyes. 

“Don’t you think it’d be good to get experience before leaving for college, Y/N?” he asks, and you can tell he’s trying to sound confident, but his voice comes out breathier and shakier than he must intend it to.

“I don’t know… I don’t think it’s necessary,” you say, eyes still trained on his hand resting on your knee. He squeezes it a bit, making you finally look up at him. Is it just you, or did the room get hotter all of a sudden?

“Not everything you do has to be out of necessity, you know.”

The both of you stare at each other for a few moments. This shift in your relationship was bound to happen; you’d been feeling it more and more recently. You didn’t use to think twice about Sunghoon taking your hand in his, nor did you feel those stupid butterflies eating away at your stomach every time his gaze lingered for a second too long. You’d tried to reason with yourself that it was just teenage hormones doing their stupid job, and that you were doomed to feel some kind of attraction for your extremely handsome best friend at some point in your life, but that if you ignored it hard and long enough it would go away.

Well, now that Sunghoon’s lips are barely inches away from yours and your skin is on fire under his hand, it definitely isn’t going away.

“What would you do if I kissed you?” Sunghoon asks, eyes fluttering down to your lips. You think he’s looked at your lips more than the rest of your face in the past hour.

“I’d slap you,” you lie, gaze mirroring his.

“Would you really?” he says, and your hesitation makes him smirk slightly.

“No,” you breathe out, and it’s the answer he’s been waiting for, the answer he needs to finally press his soft lips against yours. 

You don’t even have the time to savor the moment, though, because the warmth of his lips is gone as quickly as it came. He pulls back, a surprised look in his eyes, as if he can’t believe what he just did. The tension above you breaks and rains down on you like small pieces of confetti that settle comfortably on your head and shoulders. There’s a knot in your stomach but instead of twisting your insides in nervousness, it feels warm and makes you giddy for what’s to come next. Sunghoon’s surprised expression transforms into a grin at the sound of your laughter, and he can’t help but chuckle along with you.

You scooch closer to him, and his other hand comes to rest on your second knee. You can tell he’s not going to do much more, so you lean in bit by bit, and peck him softly on the lips. You both giggle again and you blame the fact that you want to feel his lips on yours again on the late hour of the night. You peck his lips once, twice more, giggling inbetween, but when you peck them a third time, he doesn’t let you pull away and keeps his lips on yours. The sudden added strength takes you aback, but it doesn’t take you long to yield to his touch and kiss him back. 

Sunghoon moves his lips slowly against yours and it’s surprisingly easy to fall into his rhythm. You don’t have the most experience with kissing, but something about doing it with your best friend reassures you and your whole body relaxes as you focus on the feeling of his lips moving in cadence with yours. The knot in your stomach stays there and tightens when his hands ride up your thighs and settle on your hips, holding you snugly there. You’re only wearing shorts and his palms against your bare skin make you release a shaky breath in Sunghoon’s mouth. You pull back for a bit, surprised at your own reaction, but nothing has prepared you for the way your best friend looks at you.

His pupils are dilated, dark; his glossed-over eyes bore right into yours. Your breath was already shallow from the kiss, but it’s his gaze that renders you completely breathless. Sunghoon tightens his grip on your hips and leans in for more, but you put a hand on his chest to stop him, making his eyes snap back into focus.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, Y/N. I don’t know what took over me. Are you okay?” he asks, as short of breath as you are, but worry laced in his voice.

“No- Yes- I mean, yes, I’m fine, everything’s fine, I just-” you shake your head, trying to gather your thoughts. “I’m just…”

“Tell me. You can tell me,” he says, rubbing gentle circles into your hips with his thumb, and the unfamiliar yet intimate gesture makes it even harder to concentrate. 

“We- we’re best friends, right?” you ask, voice trembling, You ask, even though you know the answer, just because you’re afraid the line the two of you have just crossed is already miles behind you, and you won’t be able to retrace your steps.

“Yeah, of course we are,” Sunghoon reassures, head tilting to the side in confusion. 

“And best friends… Do they… Well, it’s normal for best friends to kiss, right?” you say, trying to calm the overpowering urge to kiss him again.

Sunghoon chuckles and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I don’t know about that, Y/N.”

“Oh,” you breathe.

Sunghoon quickly catches on to your hesitation. “But who cares about what best friends usually do and don’t do?” he says, holding your face between his hands to make you look up at him. “I liked kissing you, just now. I really, really liked it,” he admits, red dusting his cheeks. “Did you?”

You nod, too shy to put just how much you enjoyed kissing Sunghoon into words. “Do you want to do it again?” he asks and chuckles when you nod again, eyes already on his lips. This time, you don’t stop him when he leans in and let him press his lips to yours again. His words have reassured you and you sigh into his mouth, making him smile into the kiss. 

His hands ride up a bit and settle on your waist, bringing you a bit closer to him, and you circle your arms around his neck. The shyness of the first kiss is completely gone, and you’re both gaining more and more confidence, letting everything go and focusing solely on where your bodies meet. He tilts his head, deepening the kiss, and you push your body onto his, a sudden need to feel him against you, to feel his strong arms encaging you. 

You pull away at the same time to catch your breaths, smiling at each other when you see how lustful the other’s expression is. Sunghoon’s eyes have glossed over once more, and you’re sure yours have too. “C’mere,” he whispers, beckoning you to him. You climb onto his lap, one knee on each side of his hips. “Is this okay?” he asks, but you don’t answer, you just lean in and kiss him again, holding his face in your hand as his hands roam your back over the thin fabric of your t-shirt. Your kisses are curious, the both of you trying to figure out what feels best as you tilt your heads from one side to the other and let your inquisitive hands travel each other’s bodies. Yours find purchase in his hair, and you revel in the sighs that escape his lips whenever you pull and tug at the strands. 

As the kiss gets hungrier and needier, his hands fall down to your lower back, and then to your ass. He just cups it for a while, but after a few moments, grabs it harder and brings you close to him, making your core rub against  the hardness that had been building in his sweatpants for a while now. The friction is unexpected and you can’t help the loud moan leaving your lips at the feeling. It’s a feeling you know from your own hand in the privacy of your dark room, but Sunghoon making you feel that way is so foreign that it snaps you out of the daze you’re in. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, was that too much?” Sunghoon scrambles for words, but you’re already pulling away, and he doesn’t know what to do to keep you close.

You sit back on the bed, holding your knees close to your chest. You look at your best friend in front of you who’s looking at you with a worried expression. Something in you craves to reach a hand out to him, to feel his cheeks and jawline under your palms again, to find out if he’d shiver at your touch and if goosebumps would form on his skin. He’s been your best friend for eight years, and you’ve always thought you knew everything about him, the same way he’s supposed to know everything about you. But you realize in this moment that there are things you don’t yet know, melodies to be discovered, treasures to be unearthed. Your fingertips are burning to find them all. 

The sound of your name resonates inside your mind and it takes you everything not to fall back on him again. You furrow your eyebrows, confused by all those things you’re feeling. What was it that just took over you, that lit your insides up so?

You straighten your back suddenly and take in your surroundings. Sunghoon’s room is still the same old room you’ve always known, the same blue walls, the same posters he only ever changes when he finds a new interest and lets go of an old one. The same pictures from when you were 10, 12, 15, recent ones now that you’re 18; the same figure skating trophies and medals on his shelves. You turn to look at your best friend. The same soft, round cheeks contrasted by a sharp jaw; the same almond eyes, round with worry at your sudden movement away from him; the same two moles you’ve always found so comforting, for some reason. You almost reach out to touch them, to give you some sense of balance, to reassure you that things aren’t changing as much as it feels like they are. But you’re scared electricity might fry your fingers if you touch him right now. You’re scared you won’t be able to take your fingers off of him, no matter how much it stings. His face is the same as always before, but there’s something else to it, something you could probably figure out if you spent more than three seconds thinking about it, but you’re not sure you want to figure it out.

“Is everything okay? Did- Did I do something wrong?” he asks, voice laced with concern. 

Before he can put a reassuring hand on your knee, you get off of the bed, and hurriedly say, “No. I just- I think I should go home.” You look everywhere but at him.

He sits up at your words, concern turned into confusion. “It’s 3 a.m., Y/N, why do you want to go home all of a sudden? You’ve stayed over plenty of times before.”

“I know, I just…” you trail off, trying to come up with an excuse. “I’ve got cramps. I think my period’s coming,” you lie. It’s better than whatever truth is threatening to bubble up.

“Oh. Right.” He scooches a bit, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Is there anything- like- can I do anything?” He sighs, steadies himself. “You don’t have to go, is what I’m trying to say.”

A few months ago, when you had finally wrapped your head around the fact that your best friend was an attractive man and that he made you feel things friends weren’t supposed to make you feel, you’d told yourself it was all just a phase that would pass soon. But feelings this strong surely cannot go away that easily.

You take a deep breath in and tear your eyes away from him. “I think I should go home,” you repeat. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Hoon.”

You turn around and start walking away, but Sunghoon is quick on his feet and stops you from going out the door. “Do you actually have cramps? Or are you just scared that our friendship might change?” He sounds out of breath, like asking this question is taking him all of his energy.

You avert his gaze and try to push past him, but he’s much stronger than you. Puberty sure played its trick on him. You sigh and look down at your feet. “I’m tired, Hoon, let’s talk about it tomorrow.”

But if there is one thing your best friend is, it’s stubborn. “I don’t wanna talk about it tomorrow. I wanna talk about it now. Did it feel nice?” he asks, and his resolute tone of voice makes you look up at him.

“I- I mean-”

“Y/N,” he starts, wrapping his arms around you and leaning in a bit, his familiar scent filling your nostrils. You have to close your eyes. “Answer me. Did it feel good?”

“Yes,” you answer without thinking. 

“Is that why you’re scared?”

“Yes.” Your eyes flutter open when you feel his fingers graze your cheek. He leans in again and traps your kiss in a much softer and intimate kiss that makes your head spin and your thoughts cloud. Before you can get carried away, you pull away again, and ignore how beautiful he looks when his eyes stay closed for a couple of seconds longer. He only opens them once you tell him once again you should go home, that you need some time to think.

“Let me at least walk you there. It’s dark,” he pleads, his grip on your waist still tight.

“Hoon, I live right next door, I’ll be fine.” You let him kiss you once more and he makes you promise to call or text him tomorrow.

When you leave, Sunghoon plops back down on his bed, arm resting on his forehead as he plays back the events of the night. Had he done something wrong? Something that made you want to get as far away from him as quickly as possible? He’d tried to be gentle and to make sure you were okay with everything, but he couldn’t help but get carried away when he heard those sweet sighs of yours. He thought he was going to combust when he heard you moan, and he wanted to hear it over and over again, but you’d jumped from him like he’d told you he had killed someone.

He hopes you were telling the truth when you said you were just scared about your friendship changing. He hadn’t wanted to push and get you to stay; he knew it was weird, seeing each other in a different light all at once. He wasn’t completely oblivious; he’d felt that same shift in your relationship those past few months, just like you had, although you’d never spoken about it to each other. He knew he could never go back to seeing you as just a friend when he’d jerked off one day and you were all he could think of. He kept imagining the sounds you’d make and the way your hands would feel on him, and he’d gotten so close to getting that today, but he must’ve fucked something up and now his chances were ruined. He curses himself for letting you slip through his fingers just when he thought he finally had you.

You don’t get a wink of sleep that night. Your mind is reeling with everything that happened in Sunghoon’s room. Your fingers unconsciously keep coming up to touch your lips and feel the ghost of his touch there. Your skin turns hot at the simple thought of how perfect his lips had felt against yours, and you toss and turn in your bed as you consider what might’ve been, had you stayed with Sunghoon. 

But it’s all happening too quickly, and even though you’ve been curious in more ways than one about your best friend for the past few months, you hadn’t expected to kiss him and to enjoy it so much on a random summer night. Your thoughts only seem to calm down and your eyes finally close just as the sun starts to rise.

--

The next day, Sunghoon wakes up in the early hours of the afternoon and checks his phone right away. A couple of notifications, but nothing from you. A text from Jake in their group chat with Jay asking to hang out at Sunghoon’s pool, to which he replies that they can come whenever. He taps a quick one out in the shower, memories of your scent and your lips on his getting him to finish quicker than he’d like to admit. He’s in the middle of a late breakfast when Jake and Jay spawn at his door, swimming trunks already on. Still nothing from you.

It doesn’t take Jay and Jake long to figure out that something is up with their best friend. It’s not like he does much usually, but today especially, he makes no effort to entertain them. He laughs at their jokes, but it feels like he laughs because he hears other people laughing rather than because he genuinely finds them funny. He barely even reacts when the inflatable pool ball hits him right in the face.

His friends don’t say anything until they’re all seated at a table by the pool, sipping on some ice-cold Coke. The air is still warm but the sun is low in the sky, hidden behind the house. Sunghoon is still lost in his thoughts, unblinking eyes fixed on a random point in the distance. Jay and Jake exchange a look before the former breaks the silence.

“Is everything alright, Hoon? You look out of it today.”

Jay’s voice brings him back to the here and now, and his eyes jump back and forth between his two friends who are looking at him expectantly. “Huh? Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just tired. I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night,” he says, leaving some of the truth out, but his friends know him better than he gives them credit for.

“Are you sure? I feel like there’s something you’re not telling us. You usually act like a little bitch when you’re tired, you don’t get all…,” Jake shakes his hand in front of his face, “distant like that.”

Sunghoon bites his lip, debating whether he should tell his friends about you or not. No matter how stupid they may be, they also know both of you quite well, so they might prove not completely useless, he thinks.

“Y/N and I kissed last night.”

It’s almost comical, how Jay and Jake bring their head forward in astonishment, how wide their mouth gets, how their eyes look like they might pop out of their sockets, and how they say “You what?!” at the same time. On a normal day, Sunghoon would've laughed.

“We kissed,” Sunghoon repeats, eyes drifting down to the ground in front of him as he rubs his neck in embarrassment.

“Fucking finally!” Jay exclaims.

“Told you it was gonna happen. No way you two were going to stay just besties forever,” Jake teases, punching Sunghoon in the arm. “How was it?”

Sunghoon sighs and leans back in his chair, letting his head hang back. “Really fucking amazing,” he chuckles. His friends holler for him, snickering like 12-year old boys who just saw a hot girl walk past. 

“God, I saw this coming from miles away. I don’t know why you kept on insisting nothing was gonna happen between you two,” Jake says, beaming.

“I really didn’t think anything would… I just… Started seeing her differently recently, I guess.” Sunghoon shrugs, sheepishly smiling to himself.

“So, what happened? Did you guys just kiss or…?” Jay asks, raising his eyebrows suggestively. Jake giggles at the insinuation of sex but has a curious glint in his eyes when he waits for Sunghoon’s answer.

“Yeah, um, we just kissed cause she- she sort of ran away?” Sunghoon admits, wincing at the recollection.

“You what?!” Chaeyong’s voice rings out in the food court of the mall where you’re currently sitting, halfway through your strawberry milkshake.

“Keep it down, would you?!” you scold her, smiling apologetically to the people staring at you and your friend.

“If it was so good, why the hell did you run away, Y/N?”

“I just- I don’t know… Freaked out, I guess…” you mumble, cowering under the harsh look she gives you.

“Well, have you talked since?” You don’t reply, just guiltily avoid her gaze. “Y/N!”

“I know, I know! I just… don’t know what to do. ‘Hey, nice making out with you last night, bit weird since we’ve been best friends since we were 11, but that’s fine, right?’ Ugh! That’s so stupid,” you complain, flopping back in your chair.

“That’s exactly what you should say. Going MIA on him will just make things weirder. Plus you’ve never gone more than 24 hours without speaking so one of you will eventually cave in. It should be you,” she says, looking at you with a raised eyebrow as she takes a sip from her milkshake. 

You scoff when she gives you a ‘you know I’m right’ look. “I’ll think about it on the way home and text him. There.”

And you do think about it on the way home; but you don’t get the opportunity to send the text, because as soon as you get off the bus at the stop right across from your house, you see Sunghoon sitting on the bench of your porch, looking around nervously and rubbing his hands on his denim shorts. You chuckle to yourself; who knew he got so distressed from not speaking to you for a day?

He stands up when he sees you approaching and raises his hand in a quick wave. “Hi, Hoon,” you greet, and you can feel his whole body relax when you hug him. So, you don’t hate him, he thinks. You sit down on the bench together. “Sorry I didn’t text you. I didn’t know what to say after… last night,” you admit, hugging your knees to your chest as you sit facing him.

“Yeah, I figured,” he chuckles, smiling shyly at you. “I was scared you’d never want to see me again.”

You look at him with wide eyes, mildly offended, and punch his arm. “How could you think that?!”

“Well, you did sort of run away from me last night,” he says, lightly punching your arm in return.

You tut in defeat. “I did, didn’t I?” 

“Yeah. I’m just glad you didn’t walk past me straight into your house just now.”

You chuckle and rest your head on top of your knees. “That would’ve been a bit much, even for me.”

Sunghoon lets out a puff of air through his nose in response, and then the two of you sit in silence. You’re contemplating what to do next when your friend pulls you from your thoughts. “Should we, um…” He shuts his eyes tightly in reflection for a second before opening them again and looking straight at you. “Should we just pretend like last night didn’t happen? Would that make you feel more comfortable?”

His words take you aback and your eyes widen a bit; you hadn’t even thought pretending nothing happened last night was an option, because you didn’t think you’d ever be able to actually get it out of your head. Even now, if you stare at Sunghoon for too long, your gaze will naturally drift downwards or you’ll get a flashback of his large hands around your waist. But apparently, if he can offer to pretend like the previous night wasn’t a thing, then it must not have been such a huge deal to him. You quickly try to hide your disappointment and nod at your friend. “Right. Yeah. Sure.”

Silence makes its way between you two again. It makes the late afternoon breeze a bit chillier and the physical distance between you and Sunghoon feel much bigger than it actually is. Wanting it to go away quickly, you ask, “Do you wanna watch a movie, then?”

Sunghoon’s never looked so relieved about watching a movie, and he immediately accepts your offer. You get some popcorn ready while he searches for a movie to watch. He clicks on a horror movie that looks like it’s got a cliché storyline and awful acting, but you’re happy for any sort of distraction when Sunghoon is sitting so close to you.

You and Sunghoon always sit close-by when you watch something together, knees and shoulders brushing against each other. Tonight isn’t any different, except that your skin burns everywhere it touches his. You can smell the faint scent of chlorine in his hair, and it’s so intoxicating you want to bury your face there and breathe it in.

You’re thirty minutes into the movie and still nothing’s happened when Sunghoon puts his arm around you, letting his hand hang over your shoulder. The sudden warm contact makes you take a sharp intake of breath as memories of the previous night come flooding once again. You don’t know what you were expecting, but Sunghoon simply rests his hand there and doesn’t do anything more for another thirty minutes, except for squeezing your shoulder when there’s a small jumpscare, making you chuckle at him. This isn’t much more than what you’re used to with him, but knowing your friend, he must be thinking the ball is in your court. So you scooch a bit closer into his side and rest your head on his shoulder, the scent of his skin even stronger now that your nose is so close to his neck. You feel his chest raise and relax as he sighs deeply and tightens his hold around your shoulders. His small reactions to you spur you on and you decide to wrap an arm around his waist and you feel him flinch oh-so-slightly at your touch in such a sensitive spot. He starts to rub circles into your shoulder and rests his head on top of yours, and your whole body relaxes into his. This is so much more than what you’re used to with him; and yet, you so readily melt under his touch.

You can barely focus on the movie because of how close Sunghoon is. When a particularly scary ghost jumps on the screen, you flinch and hide your face in his neck, and he giggles at your reaction, hand coming up to stroke your hair comfortingly. It only takes you a few seconds to realize what position you’re in, and you release a shaky breath as you slowly lift your head towards Sunghoon, only to find him already looking at you, seemingly having had that same realization. When his eyes drift down to your lips, you know you’re done for.

You call out his name, and he’s already answered ‘Yes?’ before you’ve had time to finish uttering the second syllable. “I don’t think I want to pretend last night never happened,” you admit, holding his waist a bit tighter.

“Good. Me neither,” he breathes out before leaning down and trapping your lips in his, the kiss releasing all your pent-up frustration of the day. The world seems to melt away with his lips on yours, the movie already long forgotten. Sunghoon pulls you into his lap and you slide your palms up from his waist, against his chest and to his shoulders before wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing your body closer to his. His hands are sitting on your hips, fingers lightly pressing into them and your lower back. Now that you both seem to know what you want, it’s so easy, just falling into this kiss.

His tongue darts out to lick your bottom lip and you gladly open your mouth for him, letting his tongue explore it. You haven’t kissed someone like this in ages, maybe ever, but Sunghoon takes the lead and effortlessly gets you to follow his rhythm. When a flick of his tongue against yours feels particularly nice, you arch your back and press your chest into his, making him smirk into the kiss. This time, when he brings your hips down onto his, letting you feel his erection against your clothed core, the feeling doesn’t make you want to run away; instead, you want to feel it again and again.

You fall into a nice pace of rubbing yourself against him, eliciting hushed moans and loud breaths from the both of you. You can’t concentrate on kissing him and grinding down on him at the same time, so you drop your head down to bury your face in his neck, leaving a few pecks there but mostly moaning against his skin, enjoying how your hot breaths make him shiver.

You can’t keep a whine from escaping your lips when he bucks his hip into yours and his tip brushes directly against your covered clit, instantly bringing a hand up to your mouth. “Fuck, Y/N,” he breathes. “I know we gotta keep quiet ‘cause of your parents but the sounds you’re making are so fucking pretty. I wanna hear them over and over again.” His words make you whimper against his neck and you feel your slick starting to pool in your panties.

“H-hoon. This feels so good,” you moan, breathing warmly against the shell of his ear.

“I know, right? Feels so good,” he chuckles, hands grabbing at your ass to bring you harder down onto him. His actions are about to elicit another moan from you when, all of a sudden, a loud jumpscare in the movie makes you jump away from the boy underneath you and yelp in fear, which in turn makes him scream in surprise. You look at each other, panting and eyes open wide, hands clutching at your hearts, until you burst into laughter. The fun moment is short-lived, however, as your mom rushes down the stairs not ten seconds later, frantically asking if everything is alright. 

You sit up straight at the sight of your mother and clear your throat. You’re thankful for the dark of the room which hides your and Sunghoon’s swollen lips and flushed faces from her view. “Sorry, mom, we were just watching a scary movie. We’re fine.” She sleepily nods and walks back up the stairs, and when she’s back in her room, Sunghoon and you exchange a look and erupt into another fit of smaller, quieter giggles. 

That night, after Sunghoon’s gone home, the both of you get yourselves off in your own beds, the strong memory of each other’s lips and hands bringing you both to your releases. Without even realizing it, you moan out Sunghoon’s name as your orgasm hits. The window from your room doesn’t face his; but still, your heart is beating so loudly that you’re afraid the sound might carry from your open window to his. You get up and close it.

--

Now that you and Sunghoon both know you want to kiss each other, you do it everywhere: in his pool, his back pressed against the wall; on the sunchairs when you were supposed to be drying off; on your beds in the middle of the night, none of your parents or siblings suspicious of anything; in front of your house, because even though he was supposed to just walk you home, he couldn’t keep himself from tasting you one last time; in the backseat of his car after an evening with your friends and he drove you two home.

You spend a good two weeks of just kissing before your body starts to crave something more. At some point, Sunghoon’s hands resting nicely on your waist or sometimes, if he’s feeling bold, grabbing at your ass, start to not be enough anymore. You knew you wouldn’t be satisfied with just kisses and sweet touches when one day, his hands slowly but surely slid up your naked belly before grabbing onto your bikini-clad breast, lighting your whole body up on fire. He’d slipped his hand underneath your swimming top and rolled your nipple between two fingers and you had felt his dick twitch under your core when you let out a loud moan at the new yet so pleasurable feeling.

You know what it is that you want, but it makes you feel dirty. Your fingers have made you finish a hundred times before, but wanting Sunghoon to make you feel that way is a whole other story. Is that even what he wants? Would he be weirded out if you asked him about it? Is there even the sliver of a chance that maybe, just maybe, he has those same thoughts about you, and wants you to make him feel good as much as he wants to make you feel good?

If his grunts and the way he ruts into you when your make-out sessions get particularly steamy are any indication, then the answer to those questions would respectively be yes, no, and yes. 

You’re lying on a sunbed one afternoon, letting the sun dry off your wet skin from the pool, when you finally muster the courage to tell Sunghoon about your wishes. After all, he is your best friend, and you know you can talk to him about anything. Even when that ‘anything’ involves his fingers inside of you and his dick in your mouth.

“Sunghoon?” you call out, turning your head to look at your best friend. He’s bathing in the sunlight without a care in the world. His skin has tanned a bit since summer started three weeks ago and his muscles are even more defined after all that swimming and working out he’s been doing. You want to reach out a hand, to feel the taut skin of his abs and chest under your palms, and to maybe then slide your hand down until you feel his hard-on underneath his swimming trunks. Your chairs aren’t far apart and you could do it from where you are, but you’d rather ask him first.

“Yeah?” he answers without turning towards you.

You take a deep breath in before you start talking again. “You know how you said it could be good for us to get… experience before going to college… And how we’ve been kissing these past couple weeks…”

“Yeah, I know,” he chuckles.

“Well… people do more than just kissing, right?” you ask, voice slightly shaky. This seems to pique his interest as he turns to look at you.

“Yeah?” 

You hope you’re not just imagining the enthusiastic tone in his voice. “I think… I think we should try that too, don’t you think?” you ask, eyes not leaving his as he sits up on his chair and turns his knees towards you, fully facing you now.

“Yeah, I agree. I completely agree.” He stares at you for a few moments as if in disbelief. “Do you want to- Should we- Let’s go up to my room, yeah?” he offers, standing up and reaching his hand out to you. You gladly take it.

You and Sunghoon are a giggling mess as you practically run up the stairs, unable to get to his room quick enough. As soon as the door is closed behind you, you wrap your arms around each other, your lips finding his immediately as he walks you back to his bed. When you feel the back of your knees hit it, you detach yourself from him and lay on it, elbows holding you up as you look up at him expectantly.

“Fuck,” he whispers, leaning in to hover over you. He traps your lips in a short but sweet kiss before pulling back and murmuring against your lips, “Have I ever told you how pretty you are, Y/N?”

You beam at his words but decide to tease anyway. “You always go on and on about how pretty you are, but never about me.”

He giggles and pecks your lips again. “Well, I’m telling you now. You’re gorgeous.” You kiss him to hide your flustered face, pulling him so close to you he’s practically laying on top of you. Your hands are a bit more curious than usual, your kisses hungrier, the both of you anticipating what’s to come. 

You grind against each other, the feeling of his erection against your barely covered core enough to send your mind into a frenzy. You forget everything around you when you feel Sunghoon pull back in the slightest, far enough so that he can look at your face and gauge your reactions but not too much that you still feel his hot breath on your lips. One of his hands is holding the back of your head as the other travels downwards, stopping for a second on your breast to massage it lightly before continuing its journey. It ever-so-slightly brushes against your core, making you buck your hips up into his touch, but his hand is already gone leaving you whining and pouting and him chuckling at your cute reaction. “You want it that bad, huh?” he teases.

You scoff, not wanting to let your friend know the effect he has on you. You press your palm against his clothed erection and he hisses at the unexpected contact. “So do you, Hoon.”

When he presses his lips to yours again, you both smile into the kiss. You cup his jaw and tangle your fingers through his hair, and his hand slips from under your head and joins his other hand on your thigh, grabbing at both of them, fingers slightly digging in your skin. He’s so, so close to where you want him most, and he seems to have noticed your growing impatience by the way you squirm underneath him. Seeing you so needy for him only makes him needier for you; he has more experience than you, so you probably expect him to take the lead, but the truth is, he has no idea what the fuck he’s doing.

“Y/N?” he murmurs, face buried in your neck as he leaves a trail of wet kisses there.

“Yeah?”

“What do you want me to do?”

The question takes you a bit by surprise. You pull away to look at your friend. His eyes are completely glossed-over, and yours are probably the same. “Oh. I don’t know. I just… want you to touch me, I guess,” you say, voice a bit quiet.

“I don’t know how to do that,” he admits sheepishly. He kisses your neck and cheeks before pecking your lips. “Could you- could you show me? How you do it? And I can show you how I do it?”

You take a second to take his words in. Was he suggesting that you touch yourself in front of him, and that he do the same?

This was like a dream come true.

“Yeah, sure.”

Sunghoon giggles in response, and you can’t help but crack a smile too, even though the idea of getting yourself off in front of your friend, no matter how appealing, is still a bit nerve-wracking. “You first,” he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and you roll your eyes at him.

You sit back against the headboard of the bed and slip a hand underneath your swim bottom, the other hand coming up to cover your eyes in an attempt to escape Sunghoon’s heavy, lustful gaze. “None of that. I wanna see you,” he says, pulling your hand away from your eyes and resting it on a pillow next to you. “And if you keep these on, I won’t be able to see anything,” he says, looking down at your bikini top.

Before you can protest, he comes to sit on his knees in front of you, kissing your neck and letting his hands roam your back. “I wanna see all of you.” It’s so easy, untying your string bikini, he almost thinks you wore it on purpose for him to take it off. You avoid his gaze as he takes your top off of you, leaving you half-naked in front of him. “So pretty,” he whispers, and you can’t help but look at him, slick pooling between your legs from the fascination he’s looking at your breasts with. He trails kisses down your neck until he reaches them, taking a nipple in his mouth and swirling his tongue around it, then looks up to see your reaction. You never knew your nipples were this sensitive, and you can’t help but arch your back at his touch and moan loudly, hand flying up to tug at his soft hair. He releases your nipple with a pop and moves sideways to pay the same attention to the other one, but Sunghoon is impatient and doesn’t waste too much time on it; he knows he can come back to your boobs later anyway. Right now, you’ve got a hand between your legs, and that’s what he’s dying to see.

“Can I take this off, too?” he asks, looking up at you as his fingers hook on the sides of your swimming bottoms, waiting for you to nod. His eyes don’t leave your glistening core as he pulls the thin fabric down your legs, discarding it somewhere on the floor of his room. He lays on his belly and kisses the inside of your knee as he holds your thighs in his large hands, still transfixed by your pussy when he says, “Show me how you do it, please.”

You both take a sharp breath in when you start moving two fingers in gentle circles over your clit, already wet from making out with Sunghoon. Your fingers are nimble and know exactly what to do after years of doing this, but the pulse in your core is even stronger now that your best friend is watching your movements this intently. He looks like he’s scared to blink in case he might miss something. You can’t take your eyes off of his face; you’ve never seen him so fascinated by something, so eager to learn. It makes you want to put on a show for him.

A surge of confidence hits you out of nowhere as you slide your digits down your folds, gathering some slick before sliding them back up to your clit and rubbing it a bit faster, a bit harder, your moans growing louder and higher in pitch. With your free hand, you tug at the base of Sunghoon’s hair and make him look up at you. You release his hair and bring your pointer finger up to your mouth, sucking on it and swirling your tongue around it, and Sunghoon’s mind is taken back to that day a couple weeks ago when you had sucked on those lollipops. Oh, how things have changed since then. Not that he’s complaining. “Fuck, that’s hot,” he breathes out, eyes zeroed in on your lips and mouth slightly agape.

You smirk at his reaction, stomach on fire with the feeling of having this kind of power on him. When you’ve wet your finger enough, you bring it down to your slit, circling around your hole before entering it, releasing a loud moan for good measure. Sunghoon is mesmerized by the quickening with which your finger slips in and out of you, the fingers on your clit never relenting. He doesn’t even realize he’s released one of your thighs to palm himself over his shorts until you notice it yourself and tut in disapproval.

“Come and help me, Hoon,” you say, and the boy snaps out of his daze at the sound of his nickname. He nods slowly, changing his position so that he’s laying between your legs, head dangerously close to your core. You slip your other finger out of your hole and he takes that as a sign to replace it with his own. One hand still gripping your thigh, he imitates your previous actions as he gets his pointer finger wet with his saliva before pressing it between your folds, right underneath your clit where your fingers are still rubbing circles, sliding it down towards your slit, and finally pushing it in. 

“So warm… So wet, too,” he whispers in wonder, making you cover your eyes with your forearm out of shyness.

“Oh my God,” you moan, arching your back and letting your head drop to the side on the pillow. Sunghoon’s finger is much thicker and longer than your own, and it stretches you out and hits a deep spot inside you you never could, no matter how much you tried.

“Like this?” he asks, eyes curious as they bounce back and forth between your face and your entrance sucking his finger in.

“Yes, yes, just like that, you can also- oh- you can also curve it upwards a bit- fuck, yeah, just like that, Hoon, you’re doing so well,” you say, the praises just flying out of your mouth. 

This seems to instill some confidence in him, as he cocks an eyebrow at you and speeds up his actions. “Yeah? My finger making you feel good, Y/N?”

“Oh, shut up,” you bite back, but immediately let out a long whine when he easily inserts a second finger in your soaking pussy. He curves them inside you just like you told him to, and the feeling of his fingers filling you up and your own quick ones on your clit are creating a familiar knot in your stomach that is so close to breaking. That is, until Sunghoon pulls your wrist away from your clit.

“Y/N… Can I?” he asks, and you’re not sure what he’s planning, but nod anyway. He wastes no time before pressing his tongue flat down on the sensitive bud, and you actually feel like your soul might leave your body. Fingers knuckle-deep inside you, he licks and sucks at your clit, and the warmth of his tongue against your folds is what makes you tumble over the edge, tightly gripping his hair and bucking your hips into his mouth.

“Oh my God… Oh my God, Hoon, please, don’t stop, please,” you beg, voice getting higher and whinier as you cum all over his tongue. He continues eating you out until it gets too much and you have to tell him to stop. He hikes his body up yours, pecking you sweetly on the lips when he reaches them.

“Your turn,” you announce and hook your legs over his hips to straddle him. You’re about to lean in for a kiss when you notice how lovingly he’s looking at you: his eyes are soft and a small smile is playing on his lips. It takes you aback, but you’d be lying if you said butterflies didn’t spread in your stomach. “W-why are you looking at me like that?”

His grin gets a bit wider. “Did I make you feel good?”

“Y-yeah…,” you admit, averting your gaze from him.

“I’m glad. You taste good, by the way. Sweet.” You want to kiss the devilish smirk off of his face.

You scoff at your friend, glaring a bit. “Whatever. Sit up,” you order, but it just makes him smirk more.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You look up at him to check for confirmation, and when he nods, you hook your fingers under his swimming trunks, taking them off of him along with his boxers underneath. His already fully-hard cock springs free and slaps against his stomach, and you curse yourself for your reaction that will surely just inflate his ego, as if it wasn’t already massive. Your mouth hangs open, eyes zeroing in on his length, flushed red from lack of attention and what you can only guess is precum leaking at the tip. It's straight from a porno.

“Like what you see?” Sunghoon teases, making you look up at him, and you can only stupidly nod. You take the position he was in earlier, laying your head on his thigh and caressing the other, letting it ride up to rub his inner thigh and the tiniest bit over his cock, making his smirk vanish as he takes a shaky breath in.

“Show me how you do it,” you say, echoing his words from earlier. He gulps, finally realizing that he was going to have to masturbate in front of your curious eyes just as you had. He spits on his open palm and spreads the precum over his length with his thumb, lubing himself up before gripping the base and starting to move his hand up and down. You watch as his head falls back against the pillow when his palm grazes over his tip and his movements pick up some speed.

You rub his palms over his thighs, itching to get closer to his cock and make him feel as good as he had done to you earlier. Tentatively, you reach out to grab his balls in your hands, massaging them softly, feeling satisfied when a loud moan leaves his throat. “Oh, f-fuck, that feels good, Y/N,” he breathes out, voice much higher than you’re used to. If he thought that felt good, then nothing could’ve prepared him for the feeling of your soft and warm tongue kitty-licking his balls, then taking turns sucking each one into your mouth and releasing them with a pop. “Where the fuck did you learn how to do that?” he asks, involuntarily bucking his hips into your face.

You can’t help but giggle, and Sunghoon thinks he might come from the sweet sound contrasted with your lewd actions alone. “I read a lot of fanfiction,” you explain, and he doesn’t question it. If Wattpad taught you how to suck dick, then so be it.

You wrap your hand around his and tell him to keep going so you can get an idea of what pace and movements he likes, and you graze your fingernails over his abs and chest with your other hand, chuckling at how sensitive he is when you lightly pinch his nipples. Sunghoon takes his hand off of himself, laying both of his hands palms up next to him on the bed, so you decide to literally take things into your own hands. Trying to recreate what he did before, you spit into your palm and wrap your fingers around his tip, bringing your hand down in a swirly motion to the base of his shaft. You do that a few times, asking, “Like that?” to get confirmation from Sunghoon.

“Just like that, baby,” he says, not even taking notice of the pet name; but you do, and your face immediately flushes, surprised at how much you like it.

“Baby?” you repeat, but he’s too lost in his pleasure and just hums in response. His reaction eggs you on, and you lick a long stripe from his base to his tip, swirling your tongue around it and humming at the bitter but not unpleasant taste of precum there. When another moan escapes his throat, you take his tip in your mouth, at first just shallowly thrusting your head, but then trying to take more and more of him. 

You’re so focused on what you’re doing that you don’t even realize how quickly he’s panting and how his grunts start to get whinier until he’s moaning out your name. “A-ah, Y/N, feels so good, ‘m gonna cum, fuck-”

He goes silent as he shoots his release down your throat, eyebrows deeply furrowed and mouth open wide in pleasure. There’s so much of it and you can’t swallow it all, so you pull your head back, catching your breath, and a hot string of cum hits your chin and your throat. Sunghoon takes a look at you and the sight of you with some of his cum makes his dick twitch before he plops back down on the bed. You giggle as you take tissues from the bedside table (cause of course he’s got tissues next to his bed) and wipe away his seed, then lie down next to him, brushing away the hair that’s sticking to his forehead with sweat and peppering his face with soft kisses.

He opens his eyes and smiles, turning his head to look at you before engulfing you in a bear hug, sweaty bodies sticking together but neither of you minding it. “That was so good, Y/N. What the fuck,” he sighs, pecking your forehead.

You hum, nuzzling your nose into his neck. “I know, right? Who knew you could use your mouth for other things than saying stupid shit,” you tease.

He pulls back and gives you a look that tries to be stern, but you know he’s joking. “Do I need to remind you again, young lady?”

You giggle and peck his lips, forcing him out of character as his dimples appear on his cheeks. “Later, definitely.”

And after that day, he makes sure to remind you time and time again of how good his mouth feels on you. You should’ve seen it coming with how amazing of a kisser he was; but truly, there was nothing like cumming on your friend’s tongue.

--

You’re relieved to find that not much has changed, after all; you and Sunghoon still play around in the pool, watch stupid movies and hang out with your friends like always. Sure, there are stray hands here and there, or looks that last a little too long and mean a little too much, but if anything, it just makes your friendship more playful and exciting. 

You’re both open with what you like and don’t like, so it doesn’t take either of you to figure out exactly how to make the other come undone embarrassingly quickly. (The shortest amount of time it took him was 2:38 seconds - yes, he timed it - and he hasn’t let you live it down since.) You like it when he presses his large hand down onto your lower tummy while he eats you out, or when he sits you between his legs and whispers all sorts of things as his fingers work their magic inside you and on your clit. He likes it when you get down on your knees in front of him and look up at him as you suck him dry, or when you sit in his lap and kiss his neck and play with his hair while he plays video games. And don’t even get him started on when you palmed him over his sweatpants while you watched a movie with Chaeyong, Jay and Jake, making sure that the movements under the blanket went unnoticed by them. He wanted to punish you after they left, he really did, but you took him in your mouth right there in the living room and gave him an orgasm that had his thighs shaking for five minutes afterwards. You were pretty proud of yourself for that one. 

You also find out that he hates it when you tease and edge him, which only makes you do it more; the only problem is that, if you do that, he’ll make you ride his thigh and won’t help you at all. His proud smirk and snide praises combined with the feeling of his thick thigh underneath your core were more than enough to get you to your end, though.

And truly, nothing has changed, especially not Sunghoon’s special talent in pushing boys away from you.

“What do you mean, Lee Heeseung is coming back?” he heatedly asks, slamming his glass of lemonade down on the outdoor table so hard you’re scared it might break.

“It’s the summer, of course he’s coming back. He just stayed behind for a bit to enjoy a few weeks of the city without college, and now he’s coming back here,” Jake explains, shrugging.

“Do you know when he’ll be here?” you ask, far too much excitement in your voice to Sunghoon’s taste.

“Just in a couple days.”

Sunghoon has smoke coming out of his ears when he sees how much you perk up at the news of your old crush being back in town for summer. He likes the boy, but he hates that you like him. And since Heeseung is friends with Jay, Jake, and by association Sunghoon, begrudgingly so, he’ll definitely see lots of him in the upcoming months. And if Sunghoon sees Heeseung, then you’ll see Heeseung, too. And that, Sunghoon doesn’t like.

You notice something is off with him that afternoon because of how uncharacteristically quiet he is. Sunghoon, ever the loud introvert, is always arguing for no reason and laughing louder than everybody around him. So when he merely chuckles at his friends’ numerous displays of stupidity in the pool and doesn’t even say anything in protest to you getting on Jake’s shoulders to play against Chaeyoung and Jay, you know something is definitely up. You also have a good idea of what that something might be, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find it endearing.

You stay behind when your friends leave in the early evening. Without a word, you and Sunghoon pack away the inflatable toys in the pool cabin and clean up the table, putting the dirty glasses in the sink. You do the dishes while he prepares sandwiches for the two of you, which he insisted on doing after he heard your stomach grumbling. You watch the latest Kurtis Conner video as you eat and can’t help but notice that he doesn’t even chuckle at any of the jokes or skits when he’d usually be clutching his stomach in laughter. 

When you’re done eating, you take a resolute breath and pause the video, but Sunghoon doesn’t even notice, only snapping out of his daze when you call out his name.

“Huh?” When his eyes find you, he almost looks surprised to see you, as if he’d forgotten you were there.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” you ask, slightly frowning. “You look so out of it today.”

“Huh? I’m fine, nothing’s wrong,” he says dismissively and presses play, but you quickly pause the video again.

“I’m your best friend, Sunghoon, I know when something’s the matter and I know when you’re lying. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but don’t pretend everything’s fine when we both know that’s not true.”

He peers at you for a moment, cursing you for knowing him so well. He crosses his arm and averts his gaze, pouting like an angry child. “I hate it when you’re right.”

You giggle and make your way around the counter to him, standing inbetween his legs and wrapping your arms around his neck to make him look up at you. His hands come naturally up to your waist. “I just…” he starts, then immediately stops himself with a sigh., “You’ve always had a crush on Heeseung. But these are our last couple months together, and I don’t want somebody else taking up your attention…”

He buries his face between your breasts to hide his blush, and you can’t help but giggle again. “Stop laughing at me!” he protests, but the muffled sound of his voice just makes you laugh more. You stroke his hair and press a gentle kiss at the top of his head.

“Sure, I’m happy Heeseung’s coming back. But there’s no one I’d rather spend my summer with than you, Sunghoon, you should know that.” He leans back to look up at you with puppy eyes and a small pout. You cup his face, admiring how cute he looks like this, and smile softly down at him.

“Really?”

“Really,” you answer, and he leans in for a kiss.

It’s a soft one. It’s a patient kiss, neither of you urging to get somewhere else, to do something more. It reminds you of that kiss in his room a few weeks ago, when you were still curious and discovering each other. From then on, your kisses had become more feverish, more eager, more playful. But now, you’re taking your time. For now at least, neither of you is going anywhere. So your lips melt together slowly, and when you take breaks to breathe, you look each other in the eyes and smile before leaning back in.

It’s when you sigh against his lips, eyes still closed as you pull away, that it hits him. I could do this forever, he thinks.

I could sit here with my arms around her waist and her lips against mine and the smell of chlorine and the sound of her laugh forever and I’d never get tired of it, he thinks, but immediately afterwards, he realizes he won’t get to do this forever. Summer will end, you’ll both head off to college, and you’ll only get to see each other every few months until another summer comes. And who knows what might happen until then?

You might meet someone and realize Sunghoon isn’t all that; hell, he might meet someone, but he highly doubts anyone could even come close to the way you make him feel.

“Hello? Earth to Sunghoon?” you quietly joke, looking down at him with an affectionate look in your eyes. You press the pads of your fingers to his two moles before replacing your fingers with your lips, giving each one a quick peck. “You were up on the moon for a minute there.”

Sunghoon hums softly, smiling as he lets himself melt under your touch. “Sorry. It’s just really hot, isn’t it?” he says, a stupid excuse he uses as a blanket to cover his feelings. There is some sweat beading at his hairline, which helps make his lie more believable, but you don’t need to know it’s not just because of the summer heat.

Slowly, your smile turns mischievous, and Sunghoon can tell you have an idea in mind. “It is pretty hot… Wait here.”

He watches as you fill a tall glass with ice from the dispenser in the fridge and pop an ice cube in your mouth, a devilish smile on your face, and laughs when that smile is replaced with a frown as the coldness hits you and you spit it back into the glass, laughing along with him. “What the hell are you doing?” he asks between giggles.

“I got the idea a few days ago when we were having popsicles…,” you say looking down at the glass between your hands, slightly embarrassed. “You kissed me and your mouth was really cold but it felt nice.” Sunghoon hums, egging you to go on. You lift the glass up to his cheeks, applying just a bit of pressure to the soft skin. “I thought this could be refreshing.” 

You take the ice cube back in your mouth, sucking on it but not letting it melt completely before pressing your lips against Sunghoon’s and opening your mouth just a bit so he could feel the cold of the ice cube. You feel his smile into the kiss as the ice cube swirls between your tongues, sending shivers down your spine. 

“Very refreshing indeed,” he murmurs when the ice has completely melted. He gets up and takes the glass in one of his hands, leaning down to your level and says “C’mon” with the same mischievous smile as you on his face.

You two hurry up the stairs, and when you get to his room, he hands you the glass before throwing himself on his back, laying on his back with his hands behind his head. “Show me what you had in mind.”

You straddle his hips and take an ice cube from the glass, rubbing it over his lips before pushing it inside his mouth, the cold making him hiss. You quickly counteract that by pressing your lips to his, the contrast of your warm tongue and the freezing ice turning him on more than he would’ve thought.

When the ice has melted, you take another piece and brush it along his jaw, down his Adam’s apple and around his nipples. The cold temperature makes him squirm but he doesn’t shy away from it, even closing his eyes to focus solely on the feeling. While you play with the ice cube, you also leave warm kisses all over his skin, reveling in its slightly salty taste from the thin layer of sweat. You let the ice cube melt between his abs and watch him wriggle as he sucks in a sharp breath, then grab another one, starting off where the previous one stopped. You circle his navel while your fingers play with the hem of his swimming trunks. He pulls them down himself and you chuckle at his eagerness. “I should’ve known you liked the cold, with all those years of ice skating you did,” you tease.  

He’s almost fully hard, and it only takes a few kisses and trailing the ice cube down his inner thighs to have his dick fully erect. He’d only been letting out small sighs and hisses until now, but when you grab another ice cube and circle it around his sensitive tip, he throws his head back into the pillows and moans loudly. You push your luck and drag the ice cube down his shaft, his thighs snapping together when it reaches his balls. You put it in your mouth and let it melt so that your tongue is still cold when you swirl it around his tip, already tasting precum there. But before you can take him further in your mouth, he calls out your name.

“Wait. I don’t wanna cum just yet. My turn.”

He shakes his shoulders in excitement as you switch positions, you taking your t-shirt and bikini top off and laying on your back and him sitting down with one knee on each side of your thighs, an ice cube in his hand and a giddy smile on his face.

He brushes it over your lips before pushing it just a bit into your mouth, holding onto it with two fingers while you suck on it, gazes locked in each other. Just as you did earlier, he trails it down your throat and your chest until they reach your nipples, marveling at the thin wet trail it leaves in its wake. He licks this trail as he circles one of your nipples with the ice cube, and you don’t know if you should focus on his warm tongue or on the cold ice cube. Once it’s melted, he takes another one and circles your other nipple with it, his mouth coming to wrap around the now cold one. Your hands fly up to grab at his hair, your back arching into his touch as you moan and pant loudly.

He sucks and licks at your nipples until you’re calling out his name, begging for more. As nice as his mouth or an ice cube around your nipples feel, your pussy is throbbing and desperate for attention. “Sunghoon… Please,” you whine.

“Please what?” he teases, looking up from your breasts with a smirk.

You whine again, knowing he knows full well what you want. “Please…”

He trails the ice cube down your stomach, circling your navel a few times where it melts before slipping two cold fingers underneath your bikini bottoms. “Is this what you want, baby?,” he asks as he rubs his fingers between his folds, and you whine at the feeling of having him so close to your hole and to your clit but not quite there either. He smirks when you nod frantically but whine at the loss of his fingers against you as he takes your bottoms off and reaches for another ice cube.

You release a loud moan and arch your back off the bed when the ice cube touches your clit. “Fuck, Hoon!”

He rubs the ice cube up and down your folds, your heat melting it much faster than your skin. He takes another one and brings it to your entrance this time, circling around it before pushing the ice cube in and staring with wonder as it melts quickly. He holds your hips down so you stop bucking them up, whimpering at the amazing feeling of the ice against you. He replaces the ice cube with his fingers inside of you and his tongue on your clit, sucking expertly at the sensitive bud and lapping at your juices. And while it feels good - God, does it feel good - and you let Sunghoon know just how nice it feels with your moans, whispers of his names and the way you hold onto his hair, you’re craving something more.

It’s something you’ve been wanting for the past few days, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. No matter how nice Sunghoon’s fingers and mouth felt, they didn’t make you feel close to him enough. You wanted to be so close to him you didn’t know where you ended and where he started; you wanted to feel him. 

You pull him up by the face, asking him to come here and getting lost in his lips as soon as they reach your level. God, Sunghoon’s kisses. You could drown in them. But still, that craving, that need for more. And now that his body is pressed up against yours and you can feel his erection against your thigh, so close to your core, you think you know what it is that you want. “Hmm, please…”

“You keep asking me for something, but you don’t tell me what it is.”

“You. I want you, Hoon, please,” you beg, murmuring against his lips as you wrap your legs around his hips and bring him even closer, his cock now pressing against your cunt.

“M-me?,” he asks, leaning back just a bit, but you pull him back in right away, resting his forehead against yours.

“Yes, please. I need to feel you inside me.”

Your words are enough to get a moan out of Sunghoon. “Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he pants, planting kisses all over your face and neck. Usually, you’d giggle at the ticklish sensation, but right now, you’re so drunk on pleasure, it just makes your breath even shallower and your core wetter.

“How long?”

“God. Since the second time we kissed probably,” he replies, reaching for a condom in the drawer of his bedside table. You think back to that moment six weeks ago (how has it been six weeks already?, you think), after you and Sunghoon had made up and made out on his couch in front of a horror movie. He’d wanted you for that long? And he’d waited for you to say something since then?

“Today’s your lucky day, then,” you tease in an attempt to alleviate the need for him that takes over your bones, but his gaze when he looks back at you ruins any effort. If anything, it just makes you need him even more. You feel like you might explode if you don’t have him right now.

You watch as he clumsily wraps the condom around his member, clearly never having done this before, but you wouldn’t be of any help, so you let him figure it out on his own. You let your head fall back as he rubs his tip up and down your folds, gathering your slick on his dick before aligning himself at your entrance and giving you a long, deep kiss.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks, forehead on yours.

“Yeah. Are you?”

“Yeah, I am. But I’m also scared.”

“Scared of what, Hoon?” you ask, opening your eyes to look at him. You caress his cheek and cup his face in your hands, watching softly as he lets his head rest on your palm.

“I’m scared of hurting you. I heard it hurts the first time. And I’m scared…” he closes his eyes and frowns a bit. “I’m scared it’ll feel too good. That I’ll always want it. You.”

You take a small moment to think, your thumb brushing over his cheek in what you hope is a comforting manner. “You won’t hurt me, Hoon. It only hurts if you’re not ready… And I’m plenty ready. I know you’ll take it slow.” You smile softly when he nods, turning his head to kiss your palm. But if sex is as good as you’ve heard it is, you’re also scared that it might be the best thing you’ve ever experienced and that you’ll never get enough. You and Sunghoon have been meeting up almost everyday this summer and it has more often than not ended up with one of you between the other’s legs; you could never get bored of the things he made you feel or of knowing you were making him feel those exact same things. If you couldn’t live without his fingers, how could you live without his dick?

How could you live without him?

You tried to snap out of those thoughts, reassuring yourself that even before all of this you couldn’t imagine yourself living without Sunghoon, and that there was no reason this should change anything. “And don’t be scared of that, silly,” you say, making him smile. “I’ll always be here, Sunghoon. I’ll always want you, too.” 

“Fuck, okay,” he whispers, kissing your lips once before pulling himself up on his palms, hovering over you. “Tell me if you need me to stop, yeah?” he asks and waits for you to nod before finally pushing in.

You instantly moan when you feel his tip inside you, and Sunghoon stops, frantically asking if you’re okay. It takes some convincing to get him to push himself further in. “It feels so good, Hoon. Please keep going.”

You tell him to not stop until he’s fully inside you, and he obeys, even though he wants to stop when he sees your frown and your sharp intakes of breath. When he’s buried to a hilt, he can’t help but collapse on top of you, burying his face in your neck and wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. “Y/N,” he drawls out. “Feels so fucking good. So tight,” he murmurs against your neck.

“Mmh. Give me a minute, baby.” Your hands caress up and down the expanse of his back and you feel him relax on top of you. As you adjust around his length, the stretch starts to feel more and more pleasurable, until pleasure is the only thing you feel. “Hoon?”

“Yeah?” he says, kissing and nibbling softly at your neck and earlobe.

“You can move, now.”

Sunghoon doesn’t need to be told twice and ever-so-slowly slides out of you, leaving only the tip in before he slides back in. His thrusts are slow but deep, and it’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more. He’s barely started but you’re both already whimpering messes, holding onto each other tightly as pleasure like neither of you has felt before takes over your entire bodies.

As you both get more comfortable, his pace picks up just a tiny bit and you tentatively raise your legs higher so that they’re hooked around the back of his knees instead of laying on the bed. The new angle only adds to the intense pleasure, but you don’t even realize you’re crying until Sunghoon stops mid-thrust, wiping your tears with his thumb and worryingly asking if you’re okay and if it hurts and if he should stop. You open your eyes and smile, instantly calming his nerves. You bring his head closer to yours and kiss him like you’d stop breathing if you didn’t. “It feels so fucking good, Hoon. So, so good.”

He sighs out of relief and resumes his actions, heart swelling with pride that he’s making you feel so good, you’re crying. He’s always hated seeing you cry or hurt in general; but knowing what kind of tears these are, he thinks you look so pretty with tears streaming down your face. His hands grip your thighs a bit tighter as he quickens his pace, already addicted to the feeling of your warm walls taking him in so well.

He slips out a few times but you’re always quick to guide him back inside you. He lifts his body up a bit to get a deeper angle, hoping it’ll get him to stop slipping out, and he’s blown away by the sight underneath him. He thinks you’ve never looked so gorgeous as you do now, legs spread wide for him, cheeks flushed, brows furrowed and mouth agape for him. He kisses your tears, the salty taste bringing a smile to his lips. “So perfect,” he whispers against your mouth. “You look so beautiful.”

Sunghoon takes your legs and wraps them higher around his hips, the new angle hitting a spot inside you that’s making you see stars and has you moaning his name like it’s the only thing you know how to say. You feel that familiar tension build up inside your stomach much faster and much stronger than it usually does.

“Fuck, Sunghoon, I’m gonna cum,” you warn, and a harsher thrust inside you is what pushes you over the edge, the sensation crashing into you and making your thighs shake. An orgasm has never hit you this hard before.

You’re clenching around him like crazy and Sunghoon gasps as you milk him dry, his own orgasm hitting him all at once. He shoots his release inside the condom and stills inside you, breath completely taken away by the sudden, overwhelming sensation.

He lays on top of you for a moment as you both catch your breaths, trying to make sense of how something can feel this good without killing you instantly. He apologizes when his pulling out makes you wince and kisses the top of your head. He rolls onto his back, pulling you with him so that you’re now almost lying on top of him, head against his chest as his arms wrap themselves around you. You leave kisses all over his chest and neck and his hands caress your back.

“That was amazing.”

“I know, right?” he responds immediately, his enthusiasm making you laugh.

“Thanks, Hoon,” you say timidly, voice muffled against his skin.

“For what?”

“For making me feel this good.”

He chuckles. “No need to thank me, pretty. If anything, I should thank you for letting me make you feel good, and on top of that making me feel good.”

You hum at his words and you both stay there for a bit longer, enjoying each other’s warmth. Something blooms inside your chest, and you don’t know whether to let it grow or to squash it down. It feels nice, almost too nice, and you’re scared it might get ripped away from you and it won’t feel so nice then.

Friendship, sex, love. In those weeks spent with Sunghoon, those previously clear lines have blurred to a point they were all one big messy ball of feelings and not three distinct things you could tell apart. Has sex turned your friendship with Sunghoon into something romantic? Or is that just an illusion, and being so intimate with your best friend has messed up your once platonic vision of him? But was your vision of him ever platonic?

Haven't the two of you always been teased about liking each other for a reason? After all, you and Sunghoon didn't grow up together, and he’s never felt like a brother to you. He has always been your male friend; you’ve always been aware that he was your friend who was also a boy. When you'd moved in the house next to his, you hadn’t instantly clicked; it took a while for the ice skating prodigy to warm up to you, but his parents had warmly welcomed yours into the neighborhood and quickly became friends, so it was only a matter of time before he’d open up to the idea of you being around. Constantly.

You’d walk to and from school together, do homework together, go on family trips together, cheer each other on at your respective competitions. After his ice skating lessons, when his coach let him have the whole place to himself for a bit more practice, he’d tie your ice skates for you and drag you onto the ice rink, holding you by the waist or shoulders as he skated backwards in front of you, but also laughing at you when you inevitably fell. He’d tease you for getting second place at the science fair or for getting your arguments torn apart during Model United Nations, but the way he’d be a little nicer to you or share his food more often that week wouldn’t escape you.

Being a handsome young ice skater, Sunghoon had developed quite the loyal following of boys and girls alike who would come to see him at his competitions. He thrived off of the attention, but no matter how much he enjoyed his fans’ admiration, you were always the one he’d skate to after having won first place, hugging you tightly over the barrier separating the ice from the bleachers. Especially during your younger teen years, Sunghoon wasn’t one for skinship or PDA, so it always meant that much more to you that even after his most important wins, you were the first thing on his mind. It never failed to make your stomach flip, and all the death stares from his fans in the world couldn’t have changed a thing.

You were already close, but you became practically inseparable after Sunghoon’s injury. During the competition that would have gotten him a place at the Youth Winter Olympics had he won, his nerves got the best of him and he didn’t land his triple axel, hurting his ankle in the process. Ten years of dedication and hard work, ruined in mere seconds. To say that it destroyed him would be an understatement.

You were the one to bring him back up. You listened to him when he needed to vent, held him when he needed a shoulder to cry on, cheered him up when he needed to smile. He didn’t even need to tell you what he needed, you seemed to just know. You reminded him that he had a lot more value than his medals and trophies and that he didn’t need them to be complete. His family and friends tried their best to make him feel better, but their words never reached him quite like yours did.

Slowly but surely, his confidence came back. He’d lost his fans, but he’d gained a friend he knew would always be there for him. His dimples would appear more often, his laugh would resonate louder. His injury had made the two of you grow closer, creating a bond that would only strengthen over time.

And yet there were moments when being friends wasn’t enough. When calling him your best friend didn’t feel right. You had other friends, friends you were close to; sure, maybe not as close as to Sunghoon, but close nonetheless. And you didn’t feel that way around them.

Their laugh didn’t make your heart skip a beat. You didn’t want to bury your face in their necks and breathe in their scent when they hugged you. You didn’t want to know every single detail of their day. And you surely didn’t feel a pang of jealousy in your chest when they danced with another girl at your school ball.

You also didn’t crave their lips on yours every single day since it had happened for the first time and didn’t want to see what they sounded or looked like while getting the life sucked out of them through their dick.

Everybody told you it was obvious you were ‘more than friends.’ Why did romantic love have to be ‘more’ than platonic love? Why were there levels to it? You didn’t like the idea of taking your relationship with Sunghoon ‘one step further’; that wasn’t the way it felt to you. Rather, it felt like having to change everything you knew and create something new. Something where you could see him laugh and tell him about your day, but where you could also kiss him and graze his skin with your fingertips. Something that only you could share with him and only he could share with you. But you were afraid the friendship would fall apart if things didn't work out. So, instead of taking the risk of changing everything, you made sure things would stay the same. You’d tell the butterflies raging in your stomach to settle down and you wouldn’t let yourself fall into his touch in case it’d be like falling from the highest mountain.

That is, until he kissed you. Until this moment, right now, lying in his arms, ear right over his heart so you can hear it beat for you. You look up at him. His eyes are closed and a soft smile rests on his lips. He looks so peaceful. He always looks pleased when you’ve just been together, but right now, he seems to be in such a serene state, it almost makes you laugh.

Now that you’ve given in to your feelings, you’ve realized just how strong they were this whole time. Nothing has ever felt better than being in Sunghoon’s arms, than being able to see him at his most vulnerable state and to give all of you to him. All those things you didn’t know about him just six weeks ago, you know them by heart now. You’re sure there’s other things to find out, and you’ll make sure you will.

But summer won’t last forever.

A wave of sadness slaps you right in the face, bringing you back to reality. There’ll come a time where you and Sunghoon won’t be able to lounge around all day or lazily make-out at your will. You’ll go your own ways and not see each other for months at a time. The thought of that is unbearable, and you feel like looking at Sunghoon for a second longer might rip your heart into a million pieces.

When you sit up, tearing yourself away from his grip, he immediately opens his eyes, asking what’s wrong.

“Just need to go to the bathroom. I heard you can get STIs from not peeing after sex,” you half-lie. He nods and falls back into the bed. 

You rush to the toilet, needing to get far away from Sunghoon as quickly as possible. Even your pee smells different - guess that’s what having a dick inside you will do to you. You wash your hands and look in the mirror: your skin is darker in some spots, surely Sunghoon’s work. So not only did he mess with your thoughts, he also had to make your body all weird, too?

You splash your face with cold water, hoping it will bring you back to your senses. You and Sunghoon have been best friends for years. There’s no point in changing all of that now, is there? You’ll be leaving soon enough, anyway. Why ruin a perfectly fine friendship for a summer fling?

Those are your thoughts as you head back to Sunghoon’s bedroom, ready to tell him that this whole thing was a mistake and you should just pretend it never happened. But your resolve crumbles at your feet as soon as you step inside the room.

Sunghoon’s got a couple of snacks ready as he browses through Netflix in search of an appropriate movie. “How about Twilight?” he says when he feels the bed dip under your weight next to him. He kisses your forehead and pulls you down on the bed with him so that you’re lying back against his chest.

Screw it, you think. Whatever this is, it’s much more than a summer fling.

--

The rest of the summer goes by in a flash. No, you don’t try to make Sunghoon jealous by flirting with Heeseung; if the mention of the latter’s name was enough to get your friend mad, then purposefully twirling your hair or batting your eyelashes at the older boy just might make Sunghoon white-boy-punch a hole into a wall. And it’s not like Heeseung would try coming onto you, either, with how clingy Sunghoon gets when he’s around, always an arm around your waist and a glare that could kill Heeseung.

Sunghoon gradually opens up to Heeseung being around, even though it takes you reminding him almost daily that he’s the one whose arms you wanna end up in over anybody’s. After a couple weeks, Sunghoon stops looking like he's on the brink of starting a fight every time Heeseung so much as talks to you or hands you a glass of lemonade, and finally relaxes around him.

You spend countless sleepless nights with Sunghoon. You’ve probably memorized every single one of his moles by now, and you’ve made sure to kiss all of them. He holds you against him like he might lose you at any given moment. The only nights you don’t fall asleep in each other’s embrace are when either one of you is sleeping over at your friend’s house. On those nights, sleep always takes hours before washing over you, the lack of warmth keeping you awake.

Your friends and you spend entire days at the lake or by Sunghoon’s pool, not a care in the world. You rest your head on Sunghoon’s shoulder as you watch the fireworks Jake and Jay bought go off. Sunghoon grills your marshmallows for you, blowing on them so they cool down before handing you the stick. You try to ignore how the night air gets slightly chillier and how the sun sets slightly earlier, but by the last days of August, it becomes too noticeable. When September rolls around, you’re sure there’s a small crack in your heart.

You know Sunghoon feels the end of summer too. His kisses are deeper and his lips linger over yours a second longer. He frowns when he kisses you and hugs you, like he’s trying to remember what it feels like. His usual playful demeanor when you’re in bed together is gone, instead seemingly hellbent on making you feel good and almost begging you to say his name. As if you could say any other name. As if you could say anything else.

Neither of you mention your departure until the night before you leave. After spending the evening with your friends, you lie together in bed, the side of your face resting against his chest so you can feel his heart against your ear. He’s tracing patterns with his fingertips on your back, and it takes you a while to figure out he’s spelling his name over and over again, as if to etch it in your skin. When, once in a while, he takes his hand off of you to reach for his phone, you can still feel his fingers caressing you, ghostlike against your skin.

The air around you feels heavy, pressing the both of you down into the mattress. You wish the bed would eat you alive so you could stay there, warm against each other, as long as you like. You know you can’t leave without talking first, but the words won’t come to you. Instead, they float around the bed, weighing your heart down into your stomach.

“So,” you start. You're unsure what to say, but you know this conversation has to happen, one way or another. In the end, you settle on, “Excited to leave?”

Sunghoon scoffs lightly, his motions on your back coming to a stop. “Not really, no. It’s not like I’m leaving that far, and half of our school is going to our uni.”

“Maybe, but there’ll be tons of other people. Tons of other girls, too,” you add after a short pause.

“Don’t do this, Y/N, please.”

You sit up at his words. He covers his eyes with his forearm and takes a deep breath in, sensing an incoming argument. “Do what?”

“This. Getting mad at me when I haven’t done anything.”

“I’m not mad at you,” you protest, frowning down at him.

“No? Then what’s this?” he says, smoothing down the lines between your eyebrows and on your forehead with the pad of a finger.

“Whatever.” You nudge your head away from his touch. It burns. “It’s not like I’m wrong, anyway. You’re gonna have a bunch of girls at your feet, and you’ll know what to do with them, right? Now that you’re not a virgin?” you question, avoiding his gaze.

“Y/N…” he sighs, shutting his eyes tighter as if in pain.

“What? This was the whole reason why, right? Get experience with me so you could fuck girls better, no?”

“Y/N!” he says, raising his voice enough to let you know he’s upset but not enough to scare you. He sits up, looking at you with hurt and disbelief in his eyes. “What’s this all of a sudden? It’s not like I forced you into this! We agreed on it together!”

“So you agree? That this summer was just about getting experience and now you’ll use it on other girls and pretend like we,” you gesture between the two of you, “never happened?”

“What do you mean ‘agree’? I never said any of this! Don’t put words into my mouth!”

He watches as you get up from the bed, arms crossed and pacing his room. He calls out to you a few times, but you don’t stop to look at him until he speaks your name with a sternness you’ve never heard before from him. “What?” you snap.

“I don’t get why you’re acting like this out of nowhere! We both knew summer was gonna end at some point, and why we were doing this! Why are you blaming me now?”

“Because… because…” you sigh, scrambling for an excuse. Why were you doing this? The thought of Sunghoon doing what he did to you to another girl, making her feel as good as he had made you feel, kissing her like he had kissed you, made you sick. It made you see red, it made you want to make him wear a shirt with your face on it so everybody knew he was yours.

Sunghoon gets up and stands close in front of you, too close. You close your eyes. If you see his moles, you might reach out to touch them and let yourself fall even more. If you fall, you’ll need to get up, but his scent makes your knees weak.

His hands find your face, holding a little too gently, you think. Your small ones wrap around his wrists and grip them, a little too harshly, he thinks. 

You take a step back and finally look into his eyes. There’s hope in them; hope you’ll say what he wants, what he needs to hear. That you want him like he wants you. That you wish summer wasn’t over. That you’ll keep him in your heart until you can see him again. So, when what you say next is none of the above, he feels his heart sink down to his feet, leaving a murky puddle there.

“I can’t do this.”

You rush out of the room, practically running home. You fight your tears back until you slam your bedroom behind you, pathetically sinking to the ground as you let out a loud sob. You don't have the energy to get up, and cry into your hoodie's sleeve right there on the floor.

When you’ve calmed down a bit, you get up and lay in your bed, hiding your whole body underneath the covers. Maybe this is for the best, you think. If you end it like this, you won’t have the knowledge of whether he’ll wait to have you back or he’ll move on like nothing happened. That way, you can do whatever you want, not caring about what he’s up to. 

But even now, your hands subconsciously reach out towards a person that’s not there and your feet hang over the edge of your bed as though to get up and run to him anytime. You curl in on yourself to stop your body from aching for him. It doesn’t work very well.

Sunghoon stays where you left him for a few minutes, too stunned to move. Should he run after you? Should he let you cool off for a bit and talk to you in the morning? Would you be mad at him if he didn’t try to see you now or would the mere sight of him just make you angrier? He plops down on his bed as these questions run through his mind, butting into each other and making everything more confusing. 

He thinks back on everything that led to this, and his mind settles on that day a few days after graduation where his thoughts had dropped to the lowest pits of hell. If only you hadn’t brought those two damned lollipops.

--

The next morning, Sunghoon wakes up as if somebody had slapped him awake. He doesn’t bother to brush his teeth or eat anything before running over to your house, almost forgetting to put shoes on. He finds you in your room, packing the last of your things into an already full suitcase. He stands at your door, panting as his hands rest on his knees.

“You haven’t left yet. Thank God.”

“God, Hoon. It’s not that far between your house and mine. How are you so out of breath,” you say, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.

He walks to you and kneels in front of you, taking you in his arms before you can say anything. “Talk to me, please. Don’t leave like this. I’d never forgive myself if you left and you were mad at me, Y/N.”

You thought you’d cried so much last night that there was not a single drop of water left in your body, but you thought wrong. Your eyes immediately well up at his words, and he leans back when he hears a soft sniffle escaping you. Only then does he notice how puffy your eyes from all your crying.

“No, no… Have you been crying? I’m so sorry, pretty, please don’t cry,” he pouts, pulling you back into his embrace. It hasn’t even been half a day, but you missed his warmth so much, it only makes you cry harder.

After sobbing against his chest, possibly staining his shirt in the process, you pull away and in your light-headed, dehydrated state, spill your heart out. “It’s so stupid,” you sob. “We’re not gonna see each other for months and I’m gonna miss you so much and I don’t want you to be with other girls. I want you all to myself and I don’t want to be your friend that you fucked for a summer just so you could get experience, it was a stupid idea in the first place, if you wanted to kiss me, you should’ve just kissed me. But you didn’t just kiss me and now I’m scared that this all meant nothing to you but everything to me and that I don’t want to be friends anymore but you do and I’m mad that it took me all summer to say this even though I’ve known it for years but I didn’t want to admit it to myself but also you didn’t say anything and I’m mad about that too. Because there’s no way you don’t feel like I do but maybe you actually don’t and-”

Whatever you were about to say dies out against Sunghoon’s lips as he presses his lips to yours, interrupting your rambling. He pulls away, looking at you with a huge, stupid grin. He’s so stupid, you think. I love him so much.

“Fucking hell, Y/N. I’ve been waiting for you to say this so bad, you have no idea.”

You punch his chest, frowning at him. Those stupid tears won’t stop. Everything is so stupid. “Then why didn’t you say it first?”

“Because I didn’t know how to. You know I’m bad with words. And I was scared it’d make things weird.”

“I don’t want things to be weird,” you pout.

“I don’t want things to be weird, either. I want things to be nice and happy.”

You giggle. “That’s so stupid.”

“Right? It’s so stupid,” he repeats, kissing you again.

“Your breath smells,” you complain when he pulls away.

“And you have tears on your lips. Tastes salty,” he teases.

“Yeah, thanks to who?”

“Sorry.” He smiles and kisses you again. He holds you against him for a while, enjoying this last moment together. As long as he can see a smile on your face before you leave, he’ll be fine.

“I’m gonna miss you so much too, Y/N. And forget about those non-existent girls. There’s no one I’d rather be with than you.”

“How do you know? You haven’t met any of them yet,” you say, voice muffled against his t-shirt.

“I’ve met other girls before. None of them compare to you,” he says, and you immediately gag at how cliché it sounds. “What?! It’s true,” he giggles.

“You’re not gonna go and date a random guy, are you?”

“Of course not. None of them compare to you,” you say, lowering your voice to imitate his.

He helps you finish packing, and when you’re done, you lay together on your bed, not saying much because not much needs to be said. Your parents struggle to tear you away from each other and from your bed when it’s time to leave. He helps your dad put your baggage in the trunk of his car, telling you to not lift a finger so you watch him go to and from the car, leaving a kiss on your forehead every time he walks past you. You notice with a smile that he doesn’t carry much at once, making him have to go back-and-forth quite often.

After saying goodbye to your family, your dad waits in the car as you and Sunghoon hang back awkwardly, kicking small pebbles on the pavement. He takes your hand in his, making you look up at him, then takes the other hand, then hugs you close to him.

“I’m gonna miss you,” you say, as if that wasn’t obvious. You’re trying hard to fight tears from falling again, but it’s like there’s an ocean behind your eyes, water somehow never running out. 

“I already miss you,” he says, and that’s enough to get you to sob again, which makes him start crying too. You’re crying, he’s crying, your mom is crying from the porch as she watches the two of you, it’s a mess.

You force yourself away from him, cupping his face in your hands. “We’ll see each other soon, okay? And college will be fun. You won’t even have time to miss me. But make time to think about me, yeah? And text me.”

“I will. I’ll think about you all the time, I already do,” he says.

“Okay,” you whisper and hug him one last time, very briefly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. You’re about to walk away but he doesn’t let go of your hand and pulls on your arm to bring you back to him.

Pressing his forehead against yours, he whispers, “I love you,” and you sob.

“I love you, too.”

This time, when you walk away, he lets you go. He watches as you get into the passenger’s seat and as the car drives away, as it takes you away from him. You watch him stand there in the rearview mirror, until his silhouette becomes smaller, and smaller, and smaller, until you can’t see him at all anymore.

--

Summer went and fall came as they do every year. Dead leaves are falling but it’s a new start for you. It’s a new town and you don’t know anybody, but you click instantly with your roommate and make new friends throughout your first week there. You realize everybody’s in the same boat, and they’re all eager to meet people and are curious about college life. You love your classes but complain about them nonetheless. You eat more ramen than you’d like to admit and turn up hungover at a 9 am class on a Thursday. You pull all-nighters at the library and develop a caffeine dependency. You’re a college student.

You and Sunghoon were very dramatic when you left, you soon realize. You call almost everyday. He’s not there with you and you miss him but at least you don’t have to pretend you’re not stupidly in love with him anymore. Because it’s stupid, being in love, it really is. You wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Your first semester passes by almost too quickly, and before you know it, you’re on the drive home, already one eighth of the way through university. You’re excited to go home, but Sunghoon’s finals last a week longer so you wait around for him. When you complain about it, Chaeyoung tells you to get a grip. “You haven’t seen him in three months, I’m sure you can handle another week.”

And you can, but barely. You were about to explode but then he’s back and you’re in his arms and his hair is still so soft, his scent is still so comforting and his moles are still there. You kiss them both before you finally press your lips to his, and it makes you feel so alive, you could die right then and there.

You lie on his bed and talk for hours as if you didn’t keep in touch the whole time and it’s like you never left. It’s like summer never ended and you’ve just been lying in his bed the whole time, college just one big fever dream. 

But his skin doesn’t smell like chlorine anymore, and he’s not in his swimming trunks. It’s fall, almost winter, and you’re kissing Park Sunghoon. You realize you can kiss him whatever the season and you find comfort in that. It was a big day (you cried a lot when you saw him) and you’re tired so you think you’ll kiss for a bit and that’ll be all but then he whispers “I missed you so much” against your neck and a fire lights inside your stomach. Oh, how it burns. You think it might consume you whole, but you don’t dislike that idea.

In a flash, you’re on top of him, his shirt is off, your shirt is off, but it’s not enough so you take your pants off too and Sunghoon is confused as to why you’re going so fast, but follows you anyway. “What’s going on?” he asks when you’re done with the taking off of your clothes and have moved on to kissing and biting at his neck like it’s your first meal in ages, because it is.

“I missed you too,” you simply answer, and he smirks as he nods slowly, now understanding your eagerness.

“Missed me that much, huh?” he teases, letting his head fall back against the pillow so you have better access to his neck.

“Shut up. Kiss me,” you order, and he doesn’t need to be told twice. Your kisses are ravenous and desperate, very fitting for two horny people in love who haven’t seen each other in months. But the pulse in your core makes you too impatient to stay anywhere for too long, and really, it’s not your fault if you’re grinding down onto Sunghoon’s clothed erection, it’s just that he smells too good and you missed him too much.

Sunghoon laughs at you for being so impatient to hide just how impatient he is. His giggles keep him from moaning loudly enough to wake the whole house, and you laugh as you tell him to stop laughing.

“I’m serious. I missed you so much. Need you so bad,” you say as you get rid of your underwear and quickly do the same for his. He gasps when he feels you take his dick in your hand and brush its tip between your folds, both out of pleasure and out of surprise.

“Shouldn’t I get you ready? Stretch you out a bit?” he asks, his hands roaming up and down your back as he sits up on the bed so that you’re straddling his lap, and you shake your head no. You’re probably already embarrassingly wet from your short makeout session, anyway.

“I don’t care if it hurts,” you say, lining his tip with your entrance. “Need to feel you.”

You sink down on his cock, the both of you releasing loud moans at the long-awaited feeling. He lets you adjust to his size for a minute, but as soon as you move your hips just a bit, signaling to him that you’re ready for more, it’s over for you. He wanted to be patient and take his time, he really did, but you feel so warm around him and your small whimpers are so pretty that his resolve of letting you take the lead is thrown out the window. He pounds into you at a rapid pace that has you biting his shoulder to keep yourself from screaming.

You had imagined your first time back with Sunghoon so many times before. It usually involved a nice playlist in the background, fairy lights and candles lighting the room, hours of foreplay and sensual lovemaking, with a nice bath afterwards. Sometimes, when you were particularly needy for him, you imagined something closer to what was actually happening, where you’d rip each other’s clothes as soon as you got to the bedroom and fucked like animals (a bit much, admittedly, but you really missed him).

What you definitely hadn’t expected, however, was that you’d both cum in less than five minutes. What could you do, though, when he was hitting your g-spot over and over again, his length stretching you perfectly as he whispered in your ear how much he’d missed you and how good you felt? And what could he do when you took him in so well, clinging onto him as you told him how much you’d missed him and how good he felt?

You finish at the same time, hole clenching around him and milking him dry. He doesn’t pull out for a while, letting you collapse onto him as you both catch your breaths, just like you had that first time. “That was a bit quick,” he pants, and you can’t help but laugh. 

You pull back to look at his face. It’s so pretty and stupid. What a stupid face that you love so much. Do you love it because it’s stupid or is it stupid because you love it? You think that that’s a stupid question, and you kiss the mole on his nose, then the mole on his cheek, right next to his nose.

“We have all night to go slower.”

“We have all Christmas break,” he corrects.

We have the rest of our lives, you think, and you think that might be a bit much, but you say it anyway. Sunghoon hums and says, “yes, we do,” and you think maybe it’s not all that stupid.

Maybe it’s the greatest thing that’s ever been.

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[flowersforbucky]

lacy

bucky barnes x reader

i don't usually write short drabbles for bucky but i miss him and thought i'd put this little thought into words to get out of a bit of a writing slump that i've been in ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ happy valentine's day, babies

summary: bucky doesn't remember undergarments having so much fucking lace in the forties. but he thinks he can get used to it.

warnings/tags: 18+ mdni, adult themes, sensuality and implied smut, language, reader is afab, sweet teasing and banter, tfatws era

word count: 770+

bucky barnes masterlist

“What? Was lingerie not a thing back in the forties?”

Bucky watches from his position on the bed as you unzip your cocktail dress, the fabric falling from your shoulders and to the floor around your feet. He lays back against the headboard, his hands crossed behind his head. His eyes roam from the strappy heels that you have yet to shed and up your legs until his eyes settle on the black lace thigh holster that connects to a garter belt and matching panties.

You remove the small pistol from the holster, placing it on the dresser beside you before stepping away from the pool of burgundy colored satin at your feet. You crawl onto the bed, the peaks of your breasts threatening to spill out of your bra. You look up at him with a raised brow, still awaiting an answer to your question.

“It was,” he hums. “Can’t say I ever saw anything quite like this, though.”

He’s never seen anything quite like you is what he’s really thinking, but he bites his tongue. His feelings for you are far from being a secret, but he sometimes worries that if he truly spoke his mind every time he thought about how attractive he finds you, he’d never shut up.

His words are still true, though. He’d seen plenty of silk nightgowns and camisoles, but this – the intricate floral embroidery, the lace-lined edges of the cups of your bra, and the way the tight material accentuates every one of your curves just right – this is new territory for him.

“Never?” you quip. You crawl over him, positioning yourself across his lap. His hands come to rest on either side of your hips, the contrasting warmth of flesh and iciness of vibranium eliciting goosebumps across your exposed skin. “Not even online?”

He digs the tips of his fingers into the meat of your hips with the faintest amount of pressure. He doesn’t miss the way it makes you squirm, your clothed center nudging against the growing bulge concealed by his jeans.

“Online?” He huffs a laugh. “I think you’re forgetting that I have a flip phone.”

“Would it convince you to finally get a smartphone if I said I’d send you pictures of me wearing shit like this?”

He laughs, confident that you’d do just that. Considering the fact that you had been teasing him during a mission just a few hours prior, he doesn’t doubt for a second that you’d be more than happy to utilize technology to make him flustered.

“Tempting,” he admits. He dips a metal finger under the waistband of your panties, toying with it before lightly popping it against your skin. “But I have a hard time believing that pictures could do the real thing justice.”

You roll your eyes, playfully poking him in a spot between his ribs that you know to be ticklish. “You’re no fun.”

As swiftly as he can, he flips you so that you’re now pinned between him and the mattress. You look up at him with wide eyes, taken off guard by the sudden change in positions. Still, you automatically spread your legs enough for him to lay between them. He hovers above you, his gaze trailing from the mounds of your breast that peak out from the confines of the lacy bra and up to your lips.

He sits back on his knees, pulling your thigh back so he can grab one of your feet in his hands. He slowly slips the high heel off, not taking his eyes off of you as he tosses it behind him on the bed. He repeats the motion with your other foot, and presses a chaste kiss to the inside of your ankle.

“I'm no fun, huh? Does that mean you don’t want to sit on my face?”

Teasing you a little won’t hurt, he supposes. You’re normally the one dishing it out, and he’s normally the one blushing like a school girl – but he’s got to admit, he likes the way you’re looking at him right now. His heightened senses pick up on the familiar scent of your arousal and your quickened heart rate. He doesn’t need you to vocalize how you’re feeling or what you want; your body gives you away.

“Are you gonna take all of this off of me, or am I gonna have to?”

Your voice is teasing, but Bucky doesn’t miss the edge of impatience that slips through. He chuckles, taking one last, long look at the frilly undergarments. He likes them a lot, he can’t deny it – but he likes you without them even more.

recent bucky fics

all's well that ends well to end up with you - bucky isn't going to let an extended mission, a severe thunderstorm, and a delayed flight ruin your first valentine's day together

starry eyed - reader gets a gift from her secret santa

[ozzgin]

It is the 19th century and you are returning home by ship. Before you embark, you happen to find a glowing shell abandoned by the docks. It seems that the sea creatures are searching for it. Or maybe it's something else they're interested in. content: gender neutral reader, violence, dubious consent, based on Return of the Obra Dinn

January 1802 What's the matter with me, I wonder? As if my luggage wasn't heavy enough already, I had to drag around a big shell of sorts. Found it by the docks while I waited for my ship to arrive. It has a strange glow to it, this shell. Can't quite place it.

January 1802 Cheeky bastards! The seamen are such a flirt. From the moment I stepped onto the main deck, a handful of them haven't dropped the whistles and stares. One of the topmen - I recall he's Scottish? - he's been pestering me about the ship. "I'll show ye around, can't find a better guide," he says. His mates laugh and clap to his petty attempts.

February 1802 Some of the sailors are dying from lung illness. I was on the orlop deck, playing cards with the three Russians, when the surgeon rushed to one of the cabins ahead. "If it was contagious, we'd all have it by now. Damned if I know what it is, or where it comes from," I could hear him groan. I wondered out loud if I might catch it myself, but then I noticed one of 'em rascals trying to cheat the cards. February 1802 I saw it again tonight. Ever since we launched from Falmouth, as soon as the sun sets, there's an eerie glimmer in the distance. It reminds me of this damned shell. Are my eyes playing tricks on me? Oh, the sea is so terrifying in the dark. There's nothing but black stretching all around. My window is low; whenever the waves break against it, the wooden walls let out a groan that awakens me from the deepest slumber. Surgeon gave me pills to sleep. The creaks of the ship sound like a weeping maiden. February 1802 I think the cursed glow is getting closer. I couldn't sleep anymore, so I snuck onto the main deck. Scotsman found me wandering towards the bow, so he quietly hoisted me up by the waist. I thought he'd tell the Captain, but he sat me on the lower rigging, next to him, and we listened to the waves. I was afraid I'd fall off, but he kept a steady hand on me. I wish I could tell him about the light stalking our ship. Would he think I'm mad?

February 1802 Second Mate returned today on a small boat. We heard shouts coming from upstairs, so we rushed to see what was happening. Bosun had his pistol readied next to the Captain, and the sailors lifted the cargo from below. I thought I was dreaming at first. Some creatures, unholy beings, were caught in the net. They had the body of a human, but thick, fish tails covered in spikes. One of the Formosan passengers muttered something in Chinese, and some of the tail spikes suddenly pierced him dead. The old Miss next to me fainted on the spot, and the stewards urged us to leave. Right before I turned, I noticed one of the beasts pointing at me. It had a monstrous grin on its face. Oh, what a sight! The Scotsman guided me away, but I can't forget those eyes. Was it malice? Such an intense stare, burning straight into my soul. Now that I'm writing all this, a memory has come to mind: the creature had the same shell as mine, dangling from its neck.

February 1802 The pills no longer work. I can't rest anymore. Every time I close my eyes, I hear its wretched voice, calling me from the lazarette. That's where they locked those sea monsters. It sings nonsense, blasphemous lies. We're not fated soulmates. I've nothing to do with those devils. I should've never picked up the shell. I can only pray we reach land soon.

March 1802 God, oh God, what disaster has befallen us? I don't have much time. The gun deck is in shambles, more than half the crew dead. Underwater beasts have crawled their way up our ship; strange humans with spears, saddled on top of crabs larger than I've ever seen. The poor midshipman, oh, a young boy! He set himself on fire to stop the nightmarish fiend. Threw the lamp across the floor, and the flames swallowed both of them up. I scrambled up on the main deck, but there was no peace to be found; colossal tentacles sprawled around the ship, pulling the rigging apart, tearing humans like insects. The Captain's wife was struck by a falling pillar, I saw her crumble right before me. Scotsman is still alive, but his arm is missing a good chunk of it. I don't know where to find the surgeon.

March 1803 They left. They took the last boat, I only found out this morning. I tried to join them, but one of the sailors stopped me. "Witch," he shouted at me, "the beast down by the cargo hold screams your name. You must've called it here, brought this curse upon us." I don't know what he's talking about. Tonight I'm going to the lazarette, I can no longer bear the calling. This blasted fiend, oh, he's ruined me. I'll rot on this wreck. Mother, I don't think I'll ever reach the shore.

Your steps are hesitant as you tiptoe your way around the dried blood and debris, until you reach the locked chambers. The door is bent and folded away, as if hit by a great force. You do indeed notice the round prints against the rusty surface: giant suckers from a blasphemous being.

There he is, the wicked varmint who plagues your sleep! A pale creature is propped up, halfway out of the water, welcoming you with a toothy grin. The shell around his neck glows mockingly.

You throw your own shell at him. The small, ivory object rolls with a hollow thud.

"Is this what you wanted, damned monster?"

"Why, what am I to do with two?"

His voice is harsh and deep, rapping against your eardrums, scratching the inside of your head.

"I've been waiting for you. Can't leave this place without my beloved, can I?"

"There you go again with this nonsense. Villain! Drown me if you must, but spare me your deceit."

His smile falters, eyes narrowing in a frown.

"Is that how you find my love? Some petty lie told by a charlatan? Ungrateful brat, who do you think freed you from their shackles? Who do you suspect has summoned the leviathan, from the deepest trenches of the sea, to save your mortal soul?"

"The kraken left with the storm," you counter as the blood drains from your face. Could it be that you were to blame, after all?

"No, it left after the bargain."

He pulls himself up and sits on the edge of his former cage. You observe his features in mild awe: the texture of his skin, the dark locks of hair reaching all the way to the tail, the spikes breaking out of the thick, hard scales.

"What bargain," you ask fearfully.

"The last ones are free to escape, if they leave you to me."

Why, your horrified expression is not quite something he expected. Surely one must feel relief once their freedom has been guaranteed. And not just any kind of freedom - you've been returned to your soulmate.

He's spent weeks chasing the currents, trailing the faint glow in the distance. He hasn't stopped once, tail pushing forward to the promise of a reunion.

Yet, you seem unsure. Perhaps his approach has been too hurried, too nonchalant. You need a little bit of convincing, and he happens to be a master of courting.

His thorax suddenly expands, and you can almost hear the twisting sound of his ribs cracking and breaking under the pressure. A sweet voice rolls out of his mouth, a song you've never heard before. Your heart pounds tremendously, threatening to burst out of your chest, and a foreign panic floods your senses.

Despite your desire to flee, your lids are heavy, eyes slowly closing. Through your lashes, you can discern the beast crawling towards you, the same defiant grin plastered on his face.

It's time for you to come home.

[errruvande]

WHAT WE DO IN THE TOILET

Pairing: Thanos (Choi Su-Bong) x Fem!Reader

Summery: what if you stumbled upon your fucking ex boyfriend in a squid game toilet?

Triggers: SMUT, oral (both receiving), fingering, a bit of a dirty talk

A/N: first squid game smut, second smut fic in almost 10 years from me 🫡 English is not my native, so please, bear with it if you find a mistake, cause I'd die from embarrassment

A/N #2: dialogue formatted like this said by Thanos in English

Word count: 4k

Once you gave yourself a word that you will never meet him again in your life. You'd been trying to support him through his, not to say the list, pretty feeble rapping career, keeping him hyped up when his new tracks didn't hit the numbers he hoped for yet again. It was before he started investing his money into the crypt. You were the first one to say that this cryptocurrency shit was definitely a scum, but Su-Bong couldn't care less to listen, he had too much fun getting the first money back, doubled in number.

"This is all scum, Su!.." you once rattled at him, seeing Su-Bong changing yet another thousands of won to that crypto shit.

"We're gonna be fucking rich can't you see, señorita???" He grabbed the multicolored cash in his hands, throwing the money up in the air like a confetti. "I'm gonna win this life, baby!"

You only rolled your eyes at him, grabbing one 5000 won bill and making your way out of the room. "I'll look at your dumb ass when you invest all of your stupid money in this and they'll fuck you up, señor."

Now, you wandered how low did he fall to appear in this fucking shit hole. How many layers of buttom did his smoked, stoned ass broke to land on that pile of cow shit. How much debts did he have now? Definitely more than you, but how much more? Though after hearing some players' debts, you thought of your own to be a mild inconvenience.

You saw his head popping out from the crowd, the tallest guy in the group, as he always has been, with his head glowing purple in the dull green room. Thanos. You only prayed for him to not notice you, cause above all else, you would not stress his pathetically comical attempts into being not only a rapper, that you've already learned to stomach, but a comedian.

You were led out of the room, up and up and up by the pink strais that looked as if it have been snatched straight out of the psych test picture. Once you were high enough, you were instructed to go though the huge, massive doors leading to the open playground.

You saw him clinging to the pretty girl immediately after all of the players entered the playground, it didn't really sting, but it tugged on something buried deep down beneath the layers of indifference you've grown throughout the last year and the half.

"Hey, señorita."

You turned your head instinctively on the word. It was your word. You didn't know why, but when Su-Bong called that random girl señorita, you felt that string snapping inside you, that definitely did sting. It stinged even more, when you saw Su-Bong getting all turned on when the girl sent him off, rolling her eyes in a sheer annoyance.

Fuck him. Fuck him. FUCK HIM

You shouldn't have felt anything. Not for him, not after all of this hardships of getting him off of your mind after you two broke up.

Somehow, the thoughts of your past relationships overstaffed your head, you were running and ceasing on autopilot while you brain suffered the memories of you and Su-Bong having the time of your lives.

You didn't register how you crossed the finish line, slithering further away from the doll through the panicking players right until you felt two big heavy palm on your shoulders. The heaviness that was too familiar, and the fingers that clawed your bones with such familiarity you haven't felt for far too long.

"Babe!" The loud shriek Su-Bong forced to come out sent shivers down your body. When you looked up at him, his face was gleaming as he was laughing and studying you head to toes. "My fucking Nebula baby is here, like damn bro we're gonna be unstoppable!"

"Don't fucking call me that..." You shook his hands off you, turning on the tips of your boots, trying to get closer to the pink soldiers standing next to the doors.

"Babe, don't you want to ask me how I've been?" Purplehead grabbed you by the wrist, motioning you to swirl back to face him once more. He bent untill he somewhat leveled to your height, his face perfectly positioned in front of yours, eyes on the same level. You hated to admit that he still was as handsome as you remembered, face so fuckable the only look at it made your stomach swirling.

"What point in asking if you're here?" You tried to maintain the annoyance, but felt your voice cracking just fairly a bit, which was enough to catch a sardonic smile on Su-Bong's face, right before the words settled in his head and his face tensed with thinking.

The metal dome covered the sunlight and the pink soldiers opened the doors, making all of the remaining players to walk back to the main room, dumbfounded. Some rat looking guy snatched Thanos from your side and walked him to their beds once you entered the room. Thank you, you thought, sighting out in relief.

From your bed you saw Su-Bong and this guy from across the room. The rat guy pointed in your direction vaguely, and Su-Bong almost punched him, you could read his expression saying "shut the fuck up, man". You spent a few more minutes staring mindlessly into Thanos' direction, not exactly registering what was going on in the room, but at once you thought that the effect of the pill he swallowed during the game wore off, the comic bravado wanished from Su-Bong's face as he stared equally mindlessly into the emptiness in front of him.

After the voting you all had a little meal prepared, it felt all too close to your heart with the school like lunch, as if they tried to put you all at ease. You saw Su-Bong starting a fight with that damn Coin man, the one you knew from Su-Bong's crypto problems, but it didn't take much time before the player 001 beat the shit out of him for interrupting the meal time.

You didn't quite recognize your own feelings seeing Su-Bong lying on the floor half dead as the man was having him in a chokehold, Thanos whimpering and squirming under him. You felt the corners of your mouth lifting in some manic rushing tide, but when the man finally stood up and you saw Su-Bong's face, corrupted with both fear and anger you suddenly felt pity for him. How miserable of you.

The night crippled in, but the slumber decided not to show you any signs of life. To be fair, you could find at least twenty more people who couldn't sleep that night, and well, you had more questions for those who could.

You jumped down from your bed and slowly walked towards the bathroom. It was when you have done all of your things and was splashing your face with the spring cold water you heard some muted grumbling over the wall.

"Fuck man, c'mon!"

You creeped out of the female toilet room, tiptoing to the male one, hearing the grumbles more clearly, as well as the slapping sounds. You opened the door only for a few inches, when you saw Thanos standing in front of the mirror with his pants lowered to his knees, trying to jerk off.

"Stupid fucking shit, just fucking work!" His low voice was on the verge of growling, he never looked as pathetic and lost as now, standing half naked, trying to bone his dick up. Having sex, or at the very least jerking off, was his second to favorite activity to relieve the stress. The first one was getting high as fuck.

"Stressful day, huh?" He jerked his head into your direction seeing you leaning on the doorframe, smile completely roasting him.

He gulped, looking at you, detecting your gaze that was focused on his slumber dick in his hand.

"My señorita, do you want to help?" The desperation and anger in his voice washed away as soon as he saw your mocking face. He he let go of his dick and took a step forward to you, shaking his legs in the air to free them from the pants. "You always knew how to get it going, my fucking love."

He wrapped his fingers around your wrists, tugging you closer untill your body was pressed fully to his, then he unclasped his palm and put one of his hands on the crook of your back, lowering it untill he was able to grab your ass cheek and squeeze it.

"Why should I?" You didn't move away, nor did you shake his hand off your ass, but you also moved your face to the side when he tried to kiss you. "There's a nice, pretty guy in that room, I'd rather fuck him."

You knew that stupid cunt had a rejection kink. The seconds you said those words you felt his dick starting hardening, pressing against your inner thigh.

Su-Bong chuckled lowly, his voice vibrating through your skin as his lips were in mere inches from your ear. "Cause you still fucking love me." He squeezed your ass harder, pressing you flat into his groin. "You know none of these suckers can outdone me in fucking, right? I'm a fucking hump legend."

Too miserably for you, he fucking was. You never met someone who fucked your better than Thanos did, especially when he was under the influence of his stupid pills. You hated it, the pills, but loved the ferocity with which he thrusted into you or eated you out untill he could feel your soul on his tounge when he was on the pills.

"C'mon, my señorita, I want you so bad, just suck my fucking dick, please."

You didn't even know why, but you gave in. Maybe because you didn't know if any of you would live to see another day, or cause you knew he had his pill again and the mere thought of what he could do to you made you shiver. Or maybe because his dick was already hard enough it could leave a bruise on your thigh if you had kept staying still like this for another minute.

You slithered your hand down between your bodies, finding his dick pressed to your leg, and carefully wrapped your fingers around it. Making just a few tugs, your ear felt arousingly hot from Su-Bong's slow breathing. When he got too comfortable with you jerking him off, you relocated your hand further down his shaft, barely touching his balls, as you lifted up on your tiptoes, brushing his ear with your lips.

"If I hear you calling other bitches señoritas, I'm gonna kill you myself." You heard him mewl pathetically into your shoulder as you squeezed your fingers around his balls, practically digging into them with your nails till Thanos hissed and digged his fingers into your ass cheek in return, surely leaving some nicely framed bruises on your skin.

"You gave this name to me," you pulled your hand with his balls in it to the side slightly, stretching the tender skin almost painfuy, winning the muffled whimper from Su-Bong, as he sucked hectically on your neck. "it's fucking mine to bear."

"Done, baby, you won't hear it." He wheezed into your shoulder bucking up his dick against your thigh. You laughed, the sound was barely a whisper tickling Su-Bong's ear, but boy did it make him shiver, biting the skin on your shoulder?

"Atta boy." You bit his earlobe and let go off his balls, hearing him growling into you as his balls got back to their rightful place.

Finally for him, your tore your body off his, feeling the stinging warmth where his fingers were nailed into your ass even after you tore his hand off it, and kneeled down, finding the eye contact with Thanos before even getting close to his dick. His eyes were reminding you of boba balls, just a huge black circles amidst the white eyeballs, he was so high on his pills it drew you crazy and made you feel wet between your legs.

"Make me cum, my señorita." Once you sat down on your knees, Thanos placed his hand on your head, sliding it down to your cheek and finally your chin, leaving the trail of goosebumps on your skin as he went.

You touched his dick with your finger, pressing it up to his belly and got closer to the shaft. Su-Bong saw your tounge swirling inside your mouth, and when you stuck it out completely soaked in saliva, he squeezed your chin with his fingers, tugging your face closer untill he felt the watery tip of your tongue touching the base of his dick and shivered, snickering lowly.

You pressed your tongue flat to his very base starting to slide your way up to the very tip of it, slowly and tormenting, hearing Thanos grunting though his teeth, his hand moving back to your nape, controlling your every move.

You were sliding up and down, rolling to the tip of your tongue and touching Thanos's dick just so lightly it sent waves of shivers down his body, and then rolling it back flat, polishing his shaft with your tongue.

"I missed that so much." Through the muffled whimpering Su-Bong almost moaned, tugging on your nape to make you lick him higher. "No one's sucking the way you do, babe, my fucking slut queen."

You couldn't still the smile forcing on your face. That one thing keeping the bond between you two - you both were each other's best fuckers. And that was such a huge problem. That wasn't something that's easy to get off your mind. Every man you had after Su-Bong was intrusively compared to him while being in you, and let's be honest, none of them had the high ground. Every time you were fucking someone, at some point your head started getting clouded. Su-Bong would have already made me cum twice.

And without wandering, you knew this sucker had the same problem having every single girl compared to you.

"You'll make me cum yes?" Thanos placed his free hand on your finger that was pressing his dick to his stomach and pulled it off, making his dick fall, bouncing up and down right next to your lips. "I'll pay you back, you won't be disappointed."

You knew you wouldn't. You were sitting on your knees, thighs squeezed together in an attempt to stop your lube running down as you looked up at Su-Bong, his wide stoned pupils studying every inch of your body, lips framed in a manic smile and purple hair catching the light of the lightbulbs sent another wave of swirling down your stomach. The things he would do to you...

You wrapped your palm around his shaft, directioning the tip of his dick into your mouth and started circling it with the tip of your tongue, barely touching it. You made a few circles clockwise, a few counterclockwise, you licked it up and down and left and right, hearing Thanos' breath became loose and rapid. While you were circling his head slowly, your hands were working up and down his shaft.

"I've dreamt about thi- fuck-..." He muttered, his hand jerked automatically, sticking you on his dick deeper. Thanos didn't give you the time to adjust, starting shoving his dick down your mouth, deep into the warm tender mouth of yours, feeling your tongue sliding flat on his shaft until he felt the tip of his dick pressing into the back of your throat, you gagging, spasming over his shaft, only making Thanos moan gutturally, watching your head bob a little with a rythm he controlled. "My fucking sweet paradise. Fu-uuck!"

You felt his precum sliding down your throat, almost tickling making your insides jolt, as you started loosing your breath. The bolt of panic shattered though your chest as you started gagging without any air in your lungs, but, at this point, your desire to finish Thanos dry made you collect yourself. You started breathing though your nose, letting him guide your head in a timing that was perfect for him. You would make him cum and he would eat you out afterwards.

You felt his finish was close enough, so you grabbed his balls again, squeezing them gently, tickling and caressing them with your fingers, feeling them hardening under your touch and his dick trembling in your mouth as Thanos let the guttural moan into the air, his dick spurting semen into your mouth, nearly choking you.

"My señorita." He took his dick out of your mouth, tilting your chin up to look up at him, wiping with his finger the mix of his own cum and your drool that was soaking through the corners of your lips. "That was so fucking hot"

The way you swallowed Thanos' seed maintaining the eye contact visibly brought shivers on him, it awakened something animalistic in him as he pulled you up by the chin untill you stood up firmly and kissed you, ravaging your mouth completely. His tongue wasn't waiting for invitation, he slide it between your lips and you opened your mouth instinctively, feeling how his tongue slid deeper into your mouth over your own. At this point, you could only whimper into his mouth, thighs pressed to each other in order to find at least a bit of satisfaction.

"Fuck!"

Your kiss was interrupted by the two voices down the hall, two male voices that were creeping closer to the toilet.

"Fuck babe!" Thanos rattled, grabbing you by your pants and tugging into the closest stall, closing the doors behind you shut. The adrenaline got into him, his pupils, thought you thought it's impossible, got even bigger, as he untied the laces on your pants and tugged I'd down, along with the panties. He bent just a bit, to be able to press his lips to the side of your face and whisper gravely, "you thought it's gonna stop me?" His hand slid down your body, forcing you to open your legs. "Fuck no."

And you felt two of his digits sliding into you roughly. He didn't give you a chance to gather your scattered thoughts together, or adjust to his fingers, when he curled them, one at a time, shoving then up your cunt.

Thanos growled softly into your ear, you didn't even grasp what was the reason of your airy moan - his fingers or his voice, vibrating though your skin, but with two people outside your stall you did your best to still your vocals, only letting the little weep escape your lips and then shutting them together in panic.

"Good fuck, good day, huh?" His voice sent goosebumps running down all over your body, making you squeeze your thighs around his hand, your hips volunteerly moving down on his fingers.

"Okay, children's games, done" Thanos said, suddenly making your cunt uncomfortably empty, greening down on you, his body, towering high over yours squeezed the little whimper out of you which you bit down, almost bloodying your lip. "Want it?" He snickered jittery before bringing his soaked fingers to your lips, sliding them lightly on your bottom. You lips fell open as on a command, but as soon as you craned your neck forward to embrace his digits with the warm hug of your lips, Thanos yanked his hand back, his fingers in his mouth now and sucked them viciously, testing you before sliding down to his knees.

For a second, you forgot about all the people in the toilet and slammed the wall of the stall with your flat palm, trying to redirect your frustration and agony out of your mouth to your hand, while Thanos was sliding his hands up your inner thighs, spreading them without any effort. He pressed his face to your pubic area and breathed you in vigorously before sighing out.

The proximity of his face to your cunt sent a tugging pulsation through your body, making you squirm on your toes, hips bucking up. You want to face fuck him untill his mad soaked in your cum, just as in old good times.

In a second, you put your free hand on his head, fingers threading through his purple hair. You tugged on his nape, angling his head up untill his chin was on your puffed, soaking wet folds, and you moaned though the bitten down lips.

"That's so fucking beautiful." He said as he lowered his head, sliding down your folds with his chin and slurped you for the all the miserable desires you had. He eated you vigorously, the sound of him sucking your lube messy, letting his drool drip down your thighs mixed with your wetness turned you dazzlingly dizzy. Thanos was rubbing his tongue flat up and down your clit, pulling it in and out of your tight hole, your walls clenching hectically desiring something more. Something bigger that just a tongue. It wrecked your insides. It warmed up your cunt and made you even wetter, and you tugged on Thanos' hair to tear him off you just to see how wet his face was, covered in your slime.

"Fuck..." Was the only thing you could moaned out, looking at his absolutely deranged smile and his tounge framing his glossy lips. Thanos' eyes were nothing but pupils, two black buttomless holes staring back at you with manic desire, the previously dried blood on his cheek got soggy again and was smeared all over his jaw. Damn, that stupid señorita girl from before died in from of him and now you fucked your man with her blood on his face and for fuck's sake that almost turned your insides upside down.

Thanos wrapped his palms around your wrist and freed his hair from your grasp, pressing your hands to the wall on the both sides of you. "Let me finish my meal, babe."

He fell back into your cunt, licking you dry and biting you clit just enough for it to teeter on a slightly painful side, making you wriggle, your ass catching on a wooden wall of the stall.

"Su-.." You caught your breath as a heat wave slammed down at your nether regions, curling your toes and fingers as Thanos kept slurping the juices your body rewarded him with for his work. "-Bong..." His name finally left your lips as you collapsed on his face, your feet too weak to hold your body up.

You barely registered how he snickered, one sound on his lips - lust. He pressed his lips back to your folds and slurped all of your cum at once, his tongue circling around your cunt gathering the juice.

"My señorita..." Thanos put his hands under your quivering thighs as his head appeared in front of yours. He kissed you roughly, letting you taste yourself from his tongue, salty and sweet. "I told you I'll pay you back."

He sat you down on a toilet, opening the door slightly enough to check if anyone was still there. No one.

"We live another day, babe, and I shove it up your cunt." Thanos looked at you, cupping his dick in his hand and smiling like a demented junkie he was. "Let's go, you first."

You tugged on your panties and pants, action was rather challenging with your whole body still trembling from your climax, and popped your head out of the stall. The path was clear. Walking out of the stall you threw the pants Su-Bong left laying on the floor under the sinks to him and was about to left the room, when he wrapped his hand around your waist, slamming your body into his. "Please, babe, don't die, cause I'll need it again." Su-Bong murmured into your ear before leaving a wet kiss on your neck.

You trotted back to your bed, people were still mostly sleeping. Barely making your way up, climbing the ladder to your bed, you sat, knees pressed to your chest, and watched Thanos walking jauntily across the dormitory. His fucking cheeky ass would absolutely run his mouth to his new friend when he wakes up, no chances Thanos would keep his tongue behind his teeth about having the blowjob of his life.

You clenched your jaw on the thought of it, but, ugh. That would be a problem for the future you. Now, you had to fall asleep with the warm pleasure between your thighs, praying for Su-Bong's name not to slip out of your lips in a dream.

Tags: @verdantsecretgardens @wintaemoonjen

[mariasont]

A Puddle in Running Shoes A.H.

summary: your boyfriend finds out you have a praise kink and is having way too much fun with that information

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

warnings: some suggestive content, hotch being a menace, reader having a praise kink, end suggests something may happen but nothing explicit in this one folks im getting my libido under control swear, also count how many times r refers to hotch's face as stupid im crying

wc: 1.9k

You hated running. No, correction, loathed it. Detested it. Despised it with every fiber of your being. If there was a stronger word, one that captured the burning, irrational rage you felt whenever someone suggested going for a jog, Spencer might have known it, but you couldn't bring yourself to care enough to ask. Simply put, running was not your thing.

But when Aaron, your boyfriend and somehow the most persistent man alive, asked you to join you on a run, you couldn't exactly say no. He didn't beg, Aaron Hotchner did not beg, but his version of asking, that soft it'd mean a lot to me paired with an encouraging smile, was close enough to begging in your book. Besides, you figured there'd be some sort of reward when you got back home. Aaron was good at those.

So here you were, contributing absolutely nothing to your marathon-obsessed, fitness-loving FBI boyfriend's training. Sweat coated every inch of your body, your legs felt like lead, and your lungs burned with every ragged breath you managed to suck in. The sun blazed overhead, making you feel more like a roasting chicken than a willing participant in this so-called fun activity.

Aaron, on the other hand, looked like he'd stepped out of a fitness ad, shirt clinging to him in ways that felt outright scandalous. Even the sweat on his face somehow made him look even more attractive.

He was at least ten paces ahead of you and every few steps, he'd glance over his shoulder, probably checking to make sure you hadn't spontaneously combusted or snuck off to find an air-conditioned cafe. Honestly, both were real possibilities.

Aaron's pace slowed until he was running beside you, throwing you a smile so unfairly handsome it made your legs feel weaker than they already did.

"How are you feeling?" The question felt retorical, anyone, profiler or not, was sure to be able to read you like an open book right now. "Still alive, or do I need to start figuring out the best way to carry you home without breaking any traffic laws?"

"I think I'm alive," you managed between gasps, wiping sweat from your brow. "But if carrying me is on the table, I'm not above playing dead to make that happen."

"Not necessary, I'd carry you anyway, if only to reward you for keeping up this long. You're doing great."

You foot caught a crack in the pavement, nearly hurling yourself into it, but Aaron's hand was there quicker keeping you upright as you tried to ignore the terrifying way your body had reacted to his compliment.

"Okay you can't just say stuff like that while I'm trying to run," you blurted out, avoiding his gaze. "You're trying to kill me, I swear."

You planted your hands on your hips, still trying to catch your breath, secretly relieved to have a break, even if it almost involved a face-first meeting with the sidewalk.

"Stuff like what?" He tugged at your ponytail and you swatted his hand.

"Nothing," you said way too quickly, shaking your head like you could physically toss what you said aside. "Forget I said anything. Let's just... keep running."

You quickly realized your mistake as soon as you started jogging again. You would never willingly suggest to keep running. Unfortunately, Aaron was actively aware of this, moving to come up beside you. You didn't need to look at him to know he had the stupidest smirk on his face.

He didn't say anything at first, to your immediate relief, just kept jogging beside you. The silence stretched on, his calm breathing only seeming to make your wheezing sound worse.

"You're breathing too shallow," he said after a moment, his tone completely casual like he wasn't even winded. "Try to take deeper breaths, match them to your strides. It'll make it easier."

You glanced towards him out of the corner of your eye before attempting his suggestion. You had no intention of letting him know that it worked. His ego was far too substantial for that.

"See? You're a natural," he said, shooting you a sidelong glance. "Atta girl."

Your brain flatlined and you almost tripped over your feet again, every rational thought replaced by static. What was wrong with you? You vaguely remembered reading somewhere that people with unresolved daddy issues were prone to developing praise kinks. Was that what this was? Whatever the reason, hearing Aaron talk like that shouldn't make you feel all gooey inside, but here you were, a puddle in running shoes.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, yup, fine!"

You stared at the ground so intensely, it was a miracle you didn't bore a hole into the pavement. Your voice had betrayed you, far too shaky and way too rushed, and you knew Aaron was probably filing away every bit of your reaction.

"Hey," he said softly, his hand brushing against the back of your neck as he spoke. "Stop staring at the ground. You'll run better if you keep your head up, it'll open your chest so you can breathe easier."

His hand lingered for a second too long than what your body could handle, leaving you completely flustered and fighting every urge to do exactly the opposite of what he said.

"There you go," he murmured, a small, approving smile tugging at his lips. "That's good, honey. Just like that."

His voice, his god forsaken voice, was like lightning to your system, and not in a good way. Or maybe it��was a good way, which was the problem. It was bad enough to hearing it out here, on the jogging trail, but your brain decided to replay it in an entirely different inappropriate context: one that involved you, him, and a bed.

Your face burned, and you couldn't tell if it was from the exertion, or the very real possibility that your body was too receptive to those words. And now, not only were you fighting for every breath, but you were trying to figure out if the dampness between your legs was entirely from sweat. Surely it was sweat. Right? Gods, you hoped it was sweat.

You stopped so suddenly that Aaron jogged a few steps ahead before he realized you were not longer beside him.

"Okay, I'm calling it. I'm done. Can we please go home now?"

He jogged back to you, an easy smile on his face, and placed his hands on your shoulders as he reached you.

"Alright, we can be done," he teased, thumbs brushing lightly over your collarbones. "You survived, and you did great. I'm proud of you."

He leaned down then, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips that made the ache in your body a little easier to ignore.

When he pulled away, you barely managed to keep standing.

Aaron let out a low laugh, his hands squeezing your shoulders. "Alright. What's going on? What's wrong with you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," you said over your shoulder, practically power walking towards the car.

Aaron's laugh deepened and you ignored the funny feeling curling in your chest.

"Sweetheart," he said, gently tugging your elbow to slow you down. "Come on, talk to me."

"There's nothing to talk about, I'm fine!" You avoided his eyes as you tugged your elbow free. "I'm just tired, and, uh, need a shower."

A cold shower, your brain screamed, but you shoved the thought down.

"I know, I know you're tired," he said, lips curving into a smile, "but that's because you actually pushed yourself. I'm proud of you for sticking with it."

You were pretty convinced you were you were about to go up in flames. Your obituary would read death by too many unnecessary compliments. When your heart inevitably gave out, Aaron would have to explain to Rossi and the others how his dumb smile and sweet words had resulted in second degree manslaughter.

But then you saw it, the smirk. The one that said he absolutely knew what he was doing.

"Oh my gosh, you know!" You groaned and threw your hands in the air. "You know, and you're enjoying this!"

Spinning away from him, you stormed to the car, and slammed the door like it might shield you from his stupidly smug face.

You barely had time to exhale before the passenger door swung open, revealing Aaron, casually leaning against the car.

"You know," he said lightly, his tone far too casual for your liking, "slamming car doors isn't a great habit. You could hurt yourself."

"And you know," you snapped back, pointing at him, "torturing your girlfriend isn't a great habit either!"

He leaned in slowly, his fingers brushing against your shoulder as he grabbed your seatbelt. As he clicked it into place, his face lingered close to yours.

"I wasn't trying to torture you, baby. Just wanted to give you the chance to admit it, that you liked it."

Before you could muster a reply, Aaron's hand slid up to cradle your face, his thumb moving along your cheek. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was so deep, leaving you no choice but to sink into it, even as the faint remnants of your annoyance tried to surface.

By the time he pulled back, you felt like you were under his spell. Then, without another word, he shut your door and headed to the driver's side.

"That's not fair," you muttered, crossing your arms and pouting as you stared out the window.

Aaron's hand found the back of your neck as he backed out of the parking spot, rubbing gently into smooth circles.

"I don't mean to be unfair," he said with a small smile. "I just needed to hear it, because sometimes people don't even realize what they need until they say it out loud. And I wanted to make sure I didn't misread anything, though I'm rarely wrong, as you know."

"Trust me, you remind me every chance you get." Your tone was dry, but you were well aware that the twitch in your lip was giving you away.

"Alright, smartass," he said, chuckling as his fingers pressed a little firmer into your neck. "Now tell me, how does it make you feel when I say those things to you?"

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "I don't know, okay? I just... like it! Do I have to explain it?"

"You don't have to explain it if you don't want to," he said, "but I'd like to know what it is you like so much."

Aaron's hand moved from your neck to your hand, his fingers sliding between each of yours while his eyes stayed glued to the road, a thing that only came from months of familiar motions.

You let out a long breath. "I don't know. I just like hearing it. It makes me feel good. Special, I guess."

"You are special, sweetheart." His eyes flicked to you before returning to the road. "You're my best girl."

Your stomach flipped violently. You shifted again, trying to disguise the way your thighs pressed together tightly as your face burned hotter than ever. The debate earlier in your head was officially over, absolutely not just sweat, you thought miserably.

Aaron let out a soft chuckle, fingers brushing over your knuckles. "Something I said?"

You swatted his shoulder, your glare losing all its bite thanks to the flush all over your body. "You're enjoying this way too much."

"I can't help it," he murmured, voice dipping just enough to get you on edge. "But don't worry, I'll take care of my best girl once we're home."

You slumped in your seat, muttering something unintelligible that made Aaron chuckle again. And even though you wouldn't admit it, you found yourself smiling, already dreading and anticipating whatever he had planned when you got home.

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[envy-of-the-apple]

Fun Sized

Dark!Fairy!Gojo Satoru x reader

Word Count: 2k

Synopsis: You save a tiny fairy. Gojo Satoru decides that you and him belong together, regardless of how little he is and how little you think of him. 

(Warnings: Yandere, not many warnings in this one ngl)

The fae are a dangerous bunch. You've heard more than enough stories to be spooked. Sirens will sing beautiful songs before dragging you into the depths. Dragons will burn you to a crisp before a second's thought. Nagas would make sure you were alive until the very end as they feast on your organs. Centaurs would use their powerful legs to stomp yours to mere twigs. Driders would suck your blood until there's nothing left but a husk of your body. 

You've never heard anything about fairies. They didn't live in your region. Their lands were high in the mountains, where humans rarely traveled. Also, they were so tiny, according to the books. The biggest seemed to be barely the size of your hand. They were harmless, you concluded. Harmless to humans. Harmless to you. 

He had been harmless. At first, you thought it was a cluster of leaves in the stream, but as the current drew it closer, you noticed tiny arms and a tiny face. He was unconscious; you didn't even know if the poor thing was alive. 

The Fae are a dangerous bunch, but saving one tiny fairy couldn't hurt, right? 

Your guest quickly proved to be a bigger hassle than you initially thought. 

When you brought him to your cottage, he laid in a basket of warm linen, asleep for hours near the warm fireplace. The blueberry pie was still hot when you turned around and caught him staring at you. 

It was silent for a while, and then you said: 

"Do you like sweets?" 

That's how your tentative friendship with the other kind started. Gojo Satoru (you later learned his name) was a boisterous thing. He did in fact like sweets, which helped bribe his friendship. You're surprised that he ate so much despite his stature. Did all faires have black holes for stomachs? 

He healed up rather quickly. At first, you were afraid that his wings had crumbled due to the prolonged exposure to water. But after stuffing himself full of the blueberry syrup, he smiled widely before flitting out your window. 

You thought that would be the end of it, but then he just came coming back. 

Apparently, your baking skills left an impact on the small creature. He didn't visit often, but when he did, you would always make sure you had something. Whether it be cookies, brownies, or that blueberry pie he was so fond of. Anything was good enough for Gojo's taste palette. 

"In the fae lands," Gojo said when you prodded, "sweets are too sweet. Yours is just enough."  You weren't too sure what he meant by that, but you took it as a compliment. You were sure the fae wasn't something who'd give praises so easily. 

It's not like you were upset at providing food for your tiny friend. Quite the contrary. You loved it when Gojo visited. You found him fascinating, the way he could fly miles and miles above your head. How tiny he was. The amount of times you had to hold yourself back from squishing him between your fingers because of how cute he was scared you. 

And you hoped you were fascinating enough to entertain Gojo. You had to be; you don't know why else he'd keep coming back. Even after gobbling down your cooking, he'd lounge around your home, entertaining you with his stories. You learned of the other magical creatures he was in contact with, the students he taught, and how fond he was of them. You don't know why he was so open about sharing his personal life with you, in the stories fae hated humanity, but you would never complain. 

It doesn't click as to why Gojo's so invested in you until he comes out and says it himself. 

"Instead of me coming back and forth like this, why don't you just come live with me?" He says, "I would cut down my flying time by a lot." 

You stare at him in amusement, sure he's joking. "I'm not sure how I'd fit in your house." You tease. "I'd probably crush all your furniture." 

"I can make my house bigger." He announces. "Don't worry 'bout it, just say yes." 

You stare at him, slowly realizing that he isn't as amused. He's still smiling, but there's no joke. 

"No," you finally say, "I'm not doing that." 

He cocks his head surprised as though he's never had someone reject him before. 

"What?" He asks, "Why not?"

"Well." You clear your throat. "For one, I'm human, and you're a fairie. I don't think Fae would appreciate a human wandering around in their lands." 

"Who cares about all that?" Gojo waves his hands around. "You'll be with me, anyways. It'd be fine." 

"I don't get why you're so fixated on the human realm." His mouth turns into a sneer. "It's all so boring. Nothing ever happens. And our magic is much more advanced than yours." It's true. You can't disagree with that. Satoru didn't wear clothes made out of leaves or vines, unlike the common fairy stereotype. His clothing looked much more advanced compared to your loose cotton dresses. A black shirt with intricate buttons and long sleeves. Along with black trousers. You wonder what material could make his suit so shiny. 

You laugh at his disgust. At that time, you saw Gojo as a tiny child clutching their mother's skirts, a cute puppy. You hadn't yet taken Gojo Satoru as the threat he was. 

"It's because I am human." You say, not offended by his remarks. "So I like being near other humans." 

He groans as though your logic makes no sense. "Yuji and the others ask about you all the time, though. They've been dying to meet you." 

"You talk to your students about the giant that cooks for you? I'm flattered." 

"You're dodging," he warns. You roll your eyes. 

"Satoru, I'm not coming to live with you. It'd be too much of a hassle." You finally say. "Besides, you're not my type." 

"I'm everyone's type." He argues. 

"Not mine." You smile, and then you make your first blunder. 

"I like my men a little taller." 

He stiffens, and you know you said the wrong thing. Your smile fades as does the cheery energy in your cottage. He says nothing, but he's zipping out your window before you can apologize. 

He doesn't return for the longest time. You count the weeks. Guilt weighs on your shoulders, heavy and burdensome. Every day you bake something even tastier than the day before. Not even that is enough to coax him back. 

You think you've lost him forever, when he returns on one sweltering summer evening. 

"Hi." You blink. He's watching you, sitting idly on the window, kicking his tiny feet. 

"Hi." He smiles. 

You're happy enough to grab him with one fist and hugging him to your chest, but as always, you stop yourself. Instead, a shy smile rests on your face. 

"I'm sorry," you say, "I really am...will you accept an apology pie?" 

He grins wider, and you relax. 

He eats, and you're grateful. Something you once cherished in your life has finally come back to you. You might not return Gojo's feelings, but you still care for him. You'd rather die than ever hurt him again. 

"No, you're right." Gojo surprisingly concedes when you apologize for the third time. "We're too different. It'd never work out. Not as the way you are, right now." 

You nod, grateful he's so understanding. "Exactly." 

He's finishing up when he announces he brought you a gift. 

"I've been working on it for the past few weeks," he cheerily says. "It took a while, but it's finally safe for human consumption." 

He takes out a tiny glass bottle filled with something swirling and blue. When he asks you to bring a glass of water, you acquiesce. To your astonishment, when the elixer is poured, the entire water becomes a swirling mass of a color comparable to none other than galaxies. You're so mesmerized by the color, it's enough to stump your voice. 

"For you!" He declares. "You've always been cooking for me; thought I might return the favor, just this once." 

"What is it?" You ask, amazed by the color. You admire the glance, unaware of the glint in Gojo's eye. 

"It's kinda like the wine you have in the mortal realms, but a little less poignant." He gives when you glance at him. "Go on, tell me what you think?" 

You're too trusting, and so you make your second blunder. 

Once you start, you can't seem to stop. The taste is otherworldly, addicting. You drink and drink, not wasting a single drop. You're breathing heavily once the cup detaches from your lips. 

"Amazing." You say before looking at him. His eyes are too wide, but you're too distracted by the taste still on your tongue. "Seriously, what was that? Can I make it here?" 

He scratches the back of his head. "Not really, the ingredients are pretty hard to find." He shrugs. "Besides, it's supposed to be a one-time use." 

Your eyebrows twist, and then the world sinks. 

You're falling. You think you are. You don't really know. Everything feels like it's stretching. The walls of your tiny little cottage get higher and higher and higher. The floor gets more and more warped. You're sinking, sinking through the air. When you scream, nothing comes out. You feel like you're choking because you can't breathe, and then your vision grows black. 

The next time you open your eyes. It's still dark, and to your horror, you realize you're buried underneath something. 

You panic, clawing and tearing your way out. The material gives away easily. It's fabric. Cotton. But there was so much, an undying ocean of fabric. You lift yourself up from the pile and that's when you realize you're completely naked. 

The mountain of cotton you just climbed to the top of was your old dress. 

Everything was gigantic—the table, the chairs. The windows seemed endless. The ceiling looked miles above you, and you know what happened, but your brain can't formulate it because it can't be—it just can't be.

There's a flutter of wings. You always thought he was so quiet before. Now, he's all you can hear. Immediately, you wrap your body with the cloth. It's hard to keep still; your body is buzzing with nerves and you still can't understand. You have to force yourself to look at him.

You don't know why you expected shock, guilt, something other than the pure manic glee on his face. Satoru towers above you, head tilted. He bends down, cupping your trembling face in his hand because he's big enough to do that now. 

"Just when I thought you couldn't get any more adorable." He coos. 

You can see him now. His skin isn't pale, it's borderline translucent. His canines are sharp and pointy. And his eyes. Oh God you've never seen eyes so terrifying before—an endless mass of blue, threatening to swallow you whole. 

He wasn't a cute little fairy. He was anything but that. 

"Gojo..." You start, heart squeezing. "What did you do.." 

You know. He knows. That's why he ignores your question entirely. 

"I'm surprised it worked." He says, mainly talking to himself. "Shoko said it might be a dud, and she was so sure of it, that I mostly believed her." 

"But now look at you!" He roughly pinches your cheek. "You're the perfect size now." 

"Stop." You blubber, pushing his hand off of you. "Don't touch me. Change me back. Change me back." 

He frowns. "Why would I do that? You being human-sized was always such a hassle. Lumbering around. Way too loud. Don't get me wrong, I adore you either way." He proclaims like it's something benevolent. "But this has its charm."

He leans forward, and you scuddle backward in fear. His grin widens. 

"So, am I tall enough for you, now?" 

[kkusuka]

john price is a good man.

you can see it in the way he smiles as he orders his tea- everyday at 6:12am, herbal with two sugars- and as he stifles a laugh at the pun you leave on the side of his steaming cup- something about goldfish in a tank because you know he was military at some point- and he always, always, pours his change into the tip jar after you refuse to pocket the $50 he tries to hand you- he doesn't push because your manager is right there and he can't get his favorite barista in trouble.

and he is usually the only person in the shop that early- he knows that it picks up around seven so he makes sure he's there before that- and he's always up to talk about whatever you want to babble about as his drink steeps.

the new minecraft update and how you cried over it like you aren't a grown adult. ( 'it's embarrassing, crying over a mob in a video game that i've been plating since middle school. i am a grown adult, i should be crying over rent or taxes or something. 'i'd rather you not cry about anything, sweetheart').

how your roommate keeps leaving dishes in the sink and how it annoys you so much but you refuse to say anything about it. ('and i feel bad because we really get along and it's just this one thing that gets me but-' 'but nothin' sweetheart.' the you deserve to be taken care of, no chores, no worries goes unsaid)

how your manager makes you open and close the shop all alone even when he makes more than you. (that dick, john can make sure that you don't have to worry about mornings at least, he'll be there. you don’t have to worry about nights either, he'll get simon and johnny on it)

how your hourly wage just isn't cutting it anymore and you might have to find a second job to stay afloat. ('it's just a lot you know? i feel like i'm always fighting to keep my head above water.' 'you ever need help with anything you come to me, yeah sweetheart?' and you have no idea how much he means it.)

and eventually you have to seek him out. you got fired, your dick of a manager citing unprofessionalism and the company moving in another direction (it has nothing to do with the visit he got from that motherfucker in the cap with the union jack plastered on the front and some scot. but it really is his fault, john wouldn't have to do any of this if that snake would just treat you right). he doesn't even let you work your last day, just tells you to pack your locker and your check will be deposited next week.

john price is a good man and you know that because he gets you that second job. "bein' a barista is just like bein' a bartender. you'll be great sweetheart."

it's his bar you learn, just something small he and his colleagues bought after retiring from the SAS. you start working about four years, on the dot, after opening day- the man, kyle, says as he showed you around the building. he was your co-bartender, and johnny was some kind of chef for the minimal amount of food they served, and simon was security- whenever he was there anyway.

john mostly stayed in his office, save for the slower afternoon hours when he would join the four of you in your everlasting game of cards. (you've lost and you know it but they feel bad setting it into stone, so the game continues. kyle'll find a way to make johnny lose so you don't feel bad)

working at the bar was probably the best thing that happened to you in a long time. (best thing to happen to john too, but fucking your employee weeks after hiring them is bad business)

and to their credit, they keep you away from whatever side gig they have going on but you never feel out of place. (you don't question them when they randomly disappear in the middle of the week then come back at closing, brushing right past you into the back offices. you look past the blood, if there was an issue they would let you know).

that is until you get followed home by one of the regulars- it really was a one time thing, your car was in the shop and the walk isn't all that far in the daylight- and the only person you could think to call was your boss. john didn't leave the bar until the sun came out so you knew he wouldn't be asleep, and he told you to call him if you were ever in trouble and this was the closest you could get.

it took him less than five minutes to get to you and even less time to convince you that living so far was dangerous and that you could come stay with him until you found a nicer place. (you never question how he already had clothes in your size, or the exact hygiene products you had back in your old apartment.) but you let him guide you into his room, into his bed as he promises he'll make up the guest room another day. and you just let him hold you.

you don’t question how you never see the man again. you don't look twice as his name flashes across the tv screen and you don't think too far into his disappearance.

john price is not a good man, but you don't need to know that.