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babsworlds · 2 days ago

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COMPLETELY WASTED.

pairing. Dave Lizewski x bsf! fem! reader

synopsis. Dave gets very very drunk and say some things that really catch you off guard.

warnings. drunk Dave (like whoa), alcohol, mention of throwing up, pre relationship.

babs’ notes. this is similar to Midnight Confessions but this is standalone, i just had to write wasted Dave lol.

BRINGING DAVE TO THE PARTY WAS THE STUPIDEST IDEA EVER. You didn’t know what you were thinking when you told yourself it would be a great idea and so much fun. In hindsight, you realized that taking someone who never drank to a party with free-flowing alcohol was a recipe for disaster. You had envisioned a night of dancing, laughter, and good times, but it quickly became clear that the evening would take a very different turn.

Dave never drank; he just wasn’t used to that. And the fact that he didn’t know his limits made it even worse. When he agreed to have "just one drink," you had no idea that it would lead to several more. Before you knew it, he was well past his tolerance level, and the effects of the alcohol were evident. His usually composed and responsible demeanor had disappeared, replaced by a goofy, unsteady version of himself.

You stumbled through the house, trying to keep Dave at least a bit stable, as he was completely wasted. You had never seen him like that before—logically, because he was always the one who took care of you when you were drunk. But you found it funny anyway; seeing him like this was just something hilarious.

As you tried to support his weight, you couldn’t help but laugh at his unsteady steps and the slurred, playful comments he made. He was trying so hard to keep it together, but the alcohol had clearly gotten the best of him.

You sat him on the stairs, taking a moment to look at your drunk best friend. His head was leaning against the wall, his usually composed expression replaced with a goofy grin. You thought about what to do next and honestly, you had no idea.

Dave looked at you, grinning from ear to ear. “You are so done, mate,” you laughed at his expression. His eyes were half-closed, and his smile was lopsided, making him look even more comical.

He completely ignored how you practically laughed at him. “I need you,” he slurred, looking at you with his drunken blue eyes, but still, they were full of desire and longing. His normally clear and sharp gaze was clouded by the effects of the alcohol, but there was something earnest in his expression that tugged at your heartstrings.

It was as if, in his inebriated state, he was more honest and vulnerable than he had ever been before. The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, you wondered if there was more to his drunken confession than just the influence of the drinks he had consumed.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “To call your dad to get you? Definitely,” you finished his sentence, trying to play it off as if it didn’t mean anything. You hoped that injecting a bit of humor would diffuse the intensity of the moment, but deep down, you knew there was more to his statement than he was letting on.

“Oh no, please,” he panicked, a look of horror crossing his face. Of course, you wouldn’t do that to his dad, and he knew it deep down. Still, the idea of involving his father seemed to sober him up just a bit, and he looked at you with a pleading expression. “Don’t call him. I can handle it,” he insisted, his voice trembling slightly.

“So you better start sobering up, Lizewski,” you said with a smile, but your tone was firm. You knew that getting him home safely was your priority, and seeing him in this state was a reminder of just how vulnerable he could be. The balance between teasing and concern was a delicate one, and you wanted to ensure he knew you were there for him, no matter what.

Dave nodded, his expression a mix of regret and determination. He tried to sit up straighter, but his head lolled back against the wall. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, the words barely audible over the noise of the party. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”

“You’re not causing trouble,” you reassured him, gently patting his shoulder. “But we need to get you home. Can you walk, or do you need me to call a ride?” Your voice was soft yet firm.

Dave took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “I think I can walk,” he said, though his wobbling stance suggested otherwise. He took a tentative step, his legs unsteady and his balance precarious.

You managed to get Dave out into the fresh air. Luckily, the party was just a few blocks from your house, so it wasn’t a long walk. Dave had obviously lied about being able to walk—he could hardly stand. He collapsed onto the grass, and you rolled your eyes in exasperation.

You knew you couldn’t do it yourself, so you decided to call Todd, who was also at the party, hoping he wasn’t in a similar state as Dave.

“Todd?” you said into the phone, trying to keep your voice steady. “Can you come out in front of the house and help me get Lizewski home?” you asked, glancing over at the wasted Dave lying on the ground.

“I’m coming,” Todd replied, his voice determined. He clearly didn’t know what was waiting for him.

You kept an eye on Dave, who was now mumbling incoherently to himself. His usually sharp and witty demeanor was nowhere to be found, replaced by the drunken ramblings of someone who had definitely had too much to drink.

A few moments later, Todd appeared, looking relatively sober and ready to help. “Oh man, he’s really out of it,” Todd remarked, taking in the sight of Dave sprawled on the grass.

“Yeah, he is,” you replied with a wry smile. “Let’s get him home before he decides to start singing or something.”

Todd chuckled and nodded, bending down to help you lift Dave to his feet. With a bit of effort and coordination, the two of you managed to steady him and start the slow journey back to your house. Dave leaned heavily on both of you, his steps unsteady but grateful for the support.

“I want to kiss both of you,” Dave slurred, looking at you, then dramatically tilting his head towards Todd.

You and Todd shared a look, and you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but smile. “Being drunk isn’t an excuse for acting gay, man,” Todd said, narrowing his eyes at Dave. Todd definitely wasn’t completely sober either.

Dave giggled, clearly amused by his own bold statement. “I mean it,” he insisted, though his words were heavily slurred. “You guys are the best.”

“You can start reciting love sonnets next,” you pointed out as you tried to steady Dave’s walk.

“Alright!” Dave exclaimed with a slurred laugh, his enthusiasm unrestrained by his inebriation. He was clearly up for the challenge, even if his words were stumbling over each other.

“Please no!” Todd yelled, his voice filled with mock horror. The idea of a drunken Dave reciting love sonnets was terrifying for your ears. Todd’s exaggerated reaction only added to the absurdity of the situation, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the playful exchange.

You finally saw your front door, your eyes flickering with hope. You gave Todd a nod. “Okay, Romeo, say goodbye to your Juliet,” you said, as Todd let go of him.

Dave wobbled a bit but managed to stay upright, giving Todd a lopsided grin. “Goodbye, Juliet,” he said dramatically, attempting a bow but nearly losing his balance. You and Todd both chuckled at his theatrics.

“Thanks for the help,” you said, looking at Todd as you held Dave by his waist, his arm around your neck. “Can you make it home?” you assured yourself as you asked Todd.

“Yep,” Todd said confidently, waving to you with a grin.

You opened the door to your house, relieved that nobody was home. If your parents saw Dave like this, they would probably forbid you from hanging out with him. The thought of explaining the situation to them was something you were glad to avoid.

You led Dave to your room, where he promptly collapsed onto your bed. You took off his shoes, shaking your head at the state he was in. “Sit,” you commanded, trying to maintain some semblance of order.

Dave sat up, his movements sluggish and uncoordinated. You reached for the hem of his shirt, wanting to change it since it was smelly and stained with throw-up. “I love you, Y/n,” he confessed, his voice a mix of sincerity and intoxication.

“Shut up,” you said, rolling your eyes and trying to ignore the flutter in your chest. His confession made you feel something, but you pushed it aside for the moment. “Hands up,” you commanded again. Dave obediently raised his hands, allowing you to take off his shirt.

As you removed his shirt, you couldn’t help but glance at his bare chest, especially his abs. He had mentioned that he had been working out lately, but damn, seeing the results in person was quite the revelation. You felt a mixture of surprise and admiration, but you quickly refocused on the task at hand.

You grabbed a clean shirt you had once decided to keep and helped him put it on. “Much better,” you said, trying to maintain a sense of normalcy despite the fluttering emotions inside you.

“Now pants,” you said, you couldn’t believe you were really doing this. You forced him to open the button and zip of his jeans.

As you took hold of his pants, rolling them down to his ankles, Dave looked at you with a mischievous grin. “Y/n, you are an animal,” he teased, clearly enjoying the situation despite his intoxicated state.

“You wish,” you replied, rolling your eyes as you threw his sweatpants from your drawer at him. The absurdity of the situation was not lost on you, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at how the night had turned out. Dave struggled a bit to pull on the sweatpants, his coordination not quite up to par, but he eventually managed.

You gave him a blanket as he comforted himself in your bed, still leaving enough space for you to fit. “I love you, you are the best,” he mumbled, his eyes half-closed as he watched you changing. You didn’t really mind his gaze; in fact, it felt oddly reassuring to have him there, even in his drunken state.

“You better,” you said with a smile, the words laced with affection as you turned away to change into your own sleepwear. The room was quiet except for the soft rustling of the sheets and Dave’s gentle breathing. The events of the night played back in your mind, and despite the chaos, you felt a deep sense of contentment.

Once you were changed, you climbed into bed next to Dave, careful not to disturb him. He shifted slightly, making room for you and reaching out to pull you closer. The warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his breathing brought you a sense of comfort.

As you lay there, the weight of the night’s events slowly lifted, replaced by the simple joy of being close to someone you cared about deeply. Dave’s earlier confession echoed in your mind, and while you had brushed it off at the time, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter of emotion at his words.

The morning after was a bit hectic. Dave had the biggest and his first hangover ever. You gave him some meds as he sat at the kitchen island, his head in his hands, regretting everything as you made breakfast.

“What everything did I say?” he asked carefully, his voice filled with a mix of curiosity and dread.

Your smile turned mischievous, but you didn’t look at him, keeping your attention on breakfast. “You sure you want to hear it?”

Dave groaned, even though he wanted to know, he was scared, fearing the worst. You turned around and handed him a plate of scrambled eggs.

You leaned against the kitchen counter, looking at him with a mix of amusement and concern. “You wanted to kiss Todd, almost threw up, and wanted to recite love sonnets,” you started, watching as Dave’s eyes widened in horror. “And you said multiple times that you love me and need me,” you added, your voice becoming quieter as you spoke.

Dave’s head shot up, and he yelled, “I did what?!” The loudness of his own voice seemed to make his headache even worse, and he winced in pain. “I said I love you?”

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. “Yeah, you did. Several times, actually.” You watched as Dave’s expression shifted from shock to embarrassment.

“Oh my god,” Dave breathed out. “I’m never letting Todd mix drinks again,” he tried to make it Todd’s fault.

“You mixed them yourself,” you corrected him, shrugging. Dave’s face turned a shade redder as he remembered the events of the previous night. He looked like he wanted to disappear from the world after all the disaster he caused.

“Y/n?” He broke the silence, his voice tentative. You turned to him, giving him a nod to show you were listening. “And do you love me?” Your heart dropped, and for a moment, you thought he was still drunk. But as you looked into his eyes, you realized he was completely serious and sober. The vulnerability and sincerity in his gaze were unmistakable.

You took a deep breath, your mind racing with thoughts and emotions. This wasn’t how you had imagined having this conversation, but here it was, staring you right in the face.

"Yeah," you said, smiling softly. "I do." You had just admitted you had feelings for your best friend after denying it for years.

In the end, drunk Dave was actually pretty useful in uncovering long-buried feelings.

#fem reader #ynstories #reader insert #aaron taylor johnson #atj #atj x reader #x yn #aaron taylor johnson x reader #dave lizewski x y/n #dave lizewski x you #dave lizewski x reader #dave lizewski #kick ass x reader #kick ass

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ikiyou · 2 days ago

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Epithets - the biggest fandomism, and a clear way to see who's a beginner, and/or who hasn't learned from many published adult-level works. Especially when they make things up like, "the silver-haired one." I've only seen this done well in fantasy, where it is an established social convention and term of respect to refer to a particular being like this.

Second for me is the tag spam. You don't need to tag any characters beyond your two or three or four main characters. Seriously. Please don't do it.

Fic metaphors is the next fandomism, clear mark of a fanfic. Can be fun for humor tho. Some of these can be harder to get away from.

The rest, for me, just fall into experience and learning good grammar and writing practices.

Best recommendation for improving is to read adult-level books. You like fantasy? Read DragonLance. You like first person or supernatural or detective? Read Harry Dresden. Absolutely also keep reading young adult if that's your thing, but young adult is deliberately dumbed down in most cases and you cannot improve by reading it. You need to read adult-level if you personally want to improve.

I'll give an example: Iron Widow vs Babel (or The Poppy War, same author) since i bought and read them at the same time to see what the hype was about. Both Hugo nominated authors. There is a clear and distinct difference visible on page 1 in terms of tone, word usage, and maturity level. As someone used to reading adult-level books, my brain naturally seeks refuge in Babel. When I read Iron Widow, my brain constantly makes checks on how I would have written a section better. This is not to disparage the author - this is to highlight the total difference in style, intent, and word usage between most YA today and most adult fiction. If you want to improve, read adult fiction. Read YA for wish fulfillment.

I believe that YA is a relatively new field, when talking about its popularity. Even Harry Potter is written at a relatively higher level than Iron Widow, for example, and I read HP as it was originally coming out. I have an unproven feeling that older YA books tend to be more mature and treat their readers more maturely than recent works. Add to that the relative ease with which one may publish and write in today's climate, and it's no wonder the overall quality may have declined. Also, social media campaigns go a long way toward inflating popularity of recent books.

Anyway, TDLR: if you want to improve, read adult! Otherwise, have fun reading and writing whatever!

#for the record i was reading adult novels by 4th or 5th grade #it is never too early #polls #fandom

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enhanextdoor · 2 days ago

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𓂃۶ৎ 𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐈𝐓 ━━━ 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗍.

西村力 (n.rk). ─────⠀ㅤ 3,002 (in total) ―୨୧⋆ ˚ 𝗳!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𓈒 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬. ⠀

부인 성명 (disclaimer) : read at your own risk. there is going to be fluff and angst themes. NOT PROOFREAD

taglist: @choisanswife. @leehsngs. @myjjongie

moving away from home was one of the hardest things for you to do. it was what you had known your entire life, but college was an exciting new time. you thought it would be a fresh start, you would be able to make new friends and not be held back by some of the rumors and different issues that living in a small town held. you wanted to experience the world and maybe you were a little naive, but you thought the world would be good for you. welcome weekend was what really fucked you over. everyone was asked to go around and share a fact about themselves on the auditorium stage and as you were walking up your shirt caught on the stairway and ripped. you were so embarrassed you cried, people recorded and this quickly spread around campus. you were labeled the “cry baby” of campus. so much for getting a fresh start right? nope!

it had been three weeks since the semester started and honestly you tried to avoid the stares and laughs, you figured that the other students would eventually move on from your little mishap but in the age of smartphones no way. you even became a bit of a campus meme, the worst group of them all had to be the dance team. the first person to post the video to social media? none other than jake. he didn’t think it would get as big as it did and well it even got him a little more credibility on campus. you just wanted to keep your head down and the library was one of the best places to do that, you had been practically living in your dorm and in the library. you were enjoying the silence. enter nishimura riki, the it-boy of the freshman clas, he casually made his way over to you and pulled a book from the shelf next to where you were standing.

he was the newest member of the dance crew and all everyone had been talking about. ‘jungwon made such a good choice as captain letting him on the team.’ ‘we are so qualifying this year’ ‘he’s just so dreamy’ those are just some of the things you’ve heard. your gaze shifted to him only for a second before you grabbed the book you needed and started to head back towards the table you had claimed. “y/n.. that’s your name right?” ni-ki spoke up. you stopped to look at him and arched an eyebrow slightly, nodding your head. “yeah, that would be me.” you prepared yourself to get the cry baby comment or some kind of joke, but he walked over and examined your book. “oh this is actually the one i need too. think we could sit together and look it over?” he set the book in his hand on empty carts at the side of the column.

you were a bit shocked that he would be wanting to do an optional reading for class, the professor made sure to emphasize that this reading wasn’t required but could help students get a better grasp on the concepts. “sure?” you sounded a little hesitant because you were. maybe ni-ki wasn’t a bad guy and truthfully needed the book for class just like you. the pair of you walked over to the table and you opened it up to the page that you needed. “you need this for intro to society too right?” you questioned to see if he was taking the same basic sociology class you were. “yup and look at that you’ve got the page right and everything.” he flashed a smile.

the pair of you read the book only speaking to indicate when it was okay to turn the page. it was nice, having an interaction with someone that wasn’t just trying to make fun of you. after two hours of powering through the book you both reached the end and you closed the book. “well that was nice.” he stated as he leaned back in his chair a little. “yeah, it was nice.” you admitted before tapping your fingers on the table a little bit of anxiety building in your stomach. “you know you are pretty cool y/n. we should go out sometime.”

his words sent a little bit of panic through you mainly because you knew that talking with him could impact his social status on campus or bring on more taunting. then you were fighting with the implication, is he asking you in a friendly way or in a date kind of way? you sat there for a second. “did i break you y/n? shit that was so not what i was trying to do.” he was sat forward now examining your face. “no, no, i heard you and am not broken.” you replied and glanced back to him. “just don’t think it would be a good idea for us to go out.” you stood up to go return the book from where you found it. he stood and followed you right over to the shelf. “oh come on y/n, afraid that people will tease me too? i really don’t care about any of that. you are cool and we shared a book doesn’t that mean anything to you?” he was talking in a bit more of a teasing tone at the end. you couldn’t help but roll your eyes playfully because that was cheesy. “okay then we can go out.” you shouldn’t cave so easily but honestly you are just a girl. “great it’s a date then.” he winked.

you two had exchanged numbers before you left the library and set a plan of when you were going out. everything about this made you nervous but excited. was this really happening? the coolest guy in the freshman class wanted to take you out on a date? it seemed too good to be true. you spent hours getting ready for this date and the pair of you went out. the date was a simple move theater then dinner date. you two had a great time, the conversation at dinner flowed so naturally. he had you laughing, you made him laugh in return. it was nice being out with someone that didn’t just see you as a joke. he walked you back to your dorm and before he left you two kissed. you felt the butterflies in your stomach and the whole nine yards.

two months passed and several more dates occurred within those months. you never saw this coming, but there you were on the quad with ni-ki laid out under you and your head rested on his stomach as you laid down as well reading your book. the two of you were all the campus could talk about. “we are throwing this party tonight to celebrate winning our latest comp.” he said which pulled you from your book, “oh yeah? well i would love to come with you if that is what you are asking.” you looked up to him with a warm smile. a smile that ni-ki had grown so accustomed to. he had fallen for you and if only you knew everything he knew that you probably wouldn’t feel the same anymore. he sat up which had you sitting up as well and he admired you with a smile of his own, “you make me so happy y/n. you know that right?” you weren’t sure where this was coming from but you leaned in to give his lips a little peck. “yeah, yeah nishimura. i have a class to get to.” you stood and then leaned down to give him another peck on the lips. “see you later?” you asked but didn’t wait for an answer before walking backwards to start heading away from you. “yeah.” he waved you off and went back to laying down to look at the sky.

he wasn’t sure how he was going to tell you the truth, all of this started with a bet. he was hanging out with all the guys and jake showed everyone the video. they all laughed about it, ni-ki included. “you want to prove yourself to be one of us?” jay said while leaning his arms on his knees and the rest of the guys started to pick up what was about to go down. “get cry baby to go out with you.” he continued and everyone else was laughing. “oh my god that would be so funny actually. you should so do it.” sunghoon chimed in. ni-ki wanting to be accepted by these older much cooler guys agreed. “i could totally get her to go out with me, easy. i’ll do you one better i’ll get her to actually fall in love with me too.” god how he regretted that day now, he felt like he was walking on eggshells. it was only a matter of time before someone slipped and told you and he didn’t want to lose you. while he was trying to get you to fall in love with him he did something that would ruin everything, he fell for you.

later that night after all your classes and getting ready for what felt like forever you headed to the frat where the party was being hosted. you went inside and started looking around for ni-ki but instead found jay and jake by the drinks table. jake was a little loaded and that made him a little louder than normal. “Y/N! YOU’RE HERE!” he was basically shouting and leaning on jay for the support. “hey jake.. you doing okay there buddy?” you gave a pointed look and jay made a little face while shaking his head to indicate that this boy was long gone. you had gotten to know the rest of the guys and much to their surprise they liked you. the guilt of the bet weighed on all of them too, but they tried to ignore the elephant in the room. heeseung came walking over to see the drunk jake and jay supporting him. “need some help with that one?” he pointed to jake literally just hanging off jay. “you know it we should get him some water.” jay replied and you spoke up. “let me go get him some. you two just make sure he stays upright.”

you pushed through to the kitchen and came back with bottled water. they had gotten jake seated on a couch. “oh have you guys seen ni-ki?” you questioned. they all shook their heads and jake decided to speak up. “naurr but i am so glad you two are dating. i mean to think this all started because jay thought you were some looooser and bet ni-ki that he couldn’t get you to date him. oh! and im sorry for posting that video of you.” he was pouting and batting his eyes. “don’t hate me.” jay and heeseung’s faces both looked so shocked and heeseung literally put his hand over jake’s mouth. your mouth fell open a little as you tried to process everything that was just said. ‘some loser’ ‘a bet’ those words burned and you felt like your heart was shattering right there. “i should go.” you forced a little smile and handed the water over to jay, backing away from them. “y/n wait..” jay spoke up but you had already turned and started to rush towards the exit.

you thought that things were different with ni-ki, that he was one of the only people that actually gave you a chance. he made you feel safe and loved, he was someone you could just talk to for hours. was all of this just some silly little game to him? was your heart just something he could toy with? as you were walking out of the party, ni-ki was on his way in. his eyes caught a glimpse of you and he went to take your hand, “y/n where are you going?” you stayed right there your back to him, hand in his and using every ounce of strength you had to keep your tears in. “was it worth it?” your voice sounded so broken and he was confused until his phone buzzed, he glazed over the text from heeseung explaining what just happened. he shoved his phone right back into his pocket and he moved to stand in front of you, his hand still holding yours. “y/n, baby, i can explain.”

him moving to be in front of you wasn’t helping because now glancing up at him the tears just started to cascade down your cheeks. “explain? explain what? that you made a bet that you could date me? guess what riki, you fucking did that didn’t you? i bet you are so proud of yourself. god just leave me alone. i never want to see you again.” you shoved his hand away from yours and walked off leaving behind the boy you fell in love with and any shred of hope that people were still good.

it had been three days since the party and your phone had been blowing up with messages from all of the guys. ni-ki had messaged the first day just a few times asking if the two of you could talk, but when you ignored him for the fifth time he got the hint. he was a mess too and you knew it only because the rest of the guys were messaging you over and over saying that this was their fault not ni-ki’s. that wasn’t helping any considering he could have said no. you had skipped your classes the last two days which is not like you in the slightest, but professors had to understand you just had your heart ripped out so that’s basically a medical emergency right? maybe this would have been easier if you had made some actual friends on campus, but the friends you made were the boys and obviously didn’t trust any of them right now either.

you did the one thing you could think to do, packed up a bag and took the first flight home. you needed to get away from campus and have a slight reset. home was going to give that to you, there was no ni-ki there, none of the guys to come knock on your door, just you and your family. after the third day home you were starting to feel a little better. the feelings of betrayal were still very much there and you played a card game and when you won your instinct was to text ni-ki to let him know, but you couldn’t exactly do that. a big part of you missed what you had with him. you just had to remind yourself that it was probably all just fake.

there was a knock on the door and your mom went to get it, you were on the couch reading to get caught up on some of your classwork. “y/n, honey it’s for you.” your mom called out which confused you because you weren’t expecting anyone. you got up and made your way over to the door pausing when you saw none other than ni-ki standing there. your mom had walked away when you made it to the door and you stared at him, “what are you doing here? how did you even find my house?” you questioned in a hushed tone. “well i remember you talking about it when we went on our first date. you said that you lived in the old house with the handprints in the sidewalk and named the street so.. i just walked down the street until i found the handprints.” you stepped outside and closed the door behind yourself, crossing your arms over your stomach. he remembered that? most people wouldn’t care to remember a detail like that. you needed to push that delusion from your head, he doesn’t care. or does he?

“i tried to give you your space, i really did and honestly sunoo told me flying here was a terrible idea, but it’s been almost a week and i am losing my mind y/n. none of it was fake.. nothing i said or did with you was fake. i know it started with not the best intentions and honestly i should have told you the minute i fell for you, but i didn’t want to lose you because i’m an idiot that took a bet.” he was rambling just a little and you were focused on the fact that he said he fell for you and it was real. everything he said and did with you was real. “you mean it?” you spoke finally which cut him off from going to say something else. “of course i mean it. i am so in love with you y/n that i literally hopped on a flight to go to some town i’ve never been to to walk up and down a street in hopes of finding the girl of my dreams.”

you were hesitating on forgiving him because you weren’t completely sure if he was telling the truth, but your heart was screaming to forgive him because to be honest you are in love with him too. every little moment you two shared, every kiss, all the late night talks, the times you shared books, it was all just so comforting. “if you ever break my heart again nishimura riki i swear i won’t let you back in.” you moved in a little and he did as well. “i swear on everything in this world i won’t break your heart again.” the two of you shared a soft and sweet kiss on the door step. his hands on your waist, yours finding the comfortable spot around his shoulders. when your lips parted he smiled at you and you felt that happiness creeping back in. “so uh.. when am i going to meet my future in-laws?” he smirked as you gave him a teasing glace.

a/n: thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed this fic. i would love if you commented thought/opinions, liked, or reblogged!

c. enhanextdoor ; do not copy, repost, or translate my works.

#୨୧― ⋆ ˚ 𝐤𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 #➴― 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔: 𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗌 #🎧ྀི ― 𝖾𝗇𝗁𝖺 #nishimura riki #ni ki #ni ki enhypen #ni ki x reader #riki x reader #enhypen x reader #enha #enhypen #enhypen imagines

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htaesan · 9 hours ago

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　ᅠ 📩　ᅠ EMAILS BETTER LEFT UNSENT part 2　　────　ᅠ ( park sunghoon )

𝓹recis ⠀ : ⠀your crush on your best friend of almost ten years is getting out of hand, and you feel like it’s time to give up𑁋especially after seeing how well your desk mate treats you.

　　　ᅠ 박성훈 & 심재윤 ⠀⠀◜◡◝ ⠀⠀𝒇 reader ⠀wc 32k ⠀ genre fluff a bit of angst childhood best friends to lovers non idol au high school au ⠀ contains mentions of food sickness crying skinship pet names ocs and random characters ⠀ tagging @a-dream-bookmark ,@/k-labels , @k-nets , @k-films , @sgz-net

　　　ᅠ note ᅠ from ᅠ 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈 ! ᅠ HELLO your fav fic is back and better!!! (i hope.) saurrrrr i know the word count is crazy and tumblr does not let me put that much words in one post.. so this is the second part ! >< (i am so sorry) enjoy reading my debut enhypen fic on my new blog ^_^

　　　ᅠ ＞︿　　please leave feedbacks 　　& 　　reblog

To: [email protected] From: sincerely/[email protected] Park Sunghoon, Thank you for taking care of me at the hospital. Part of me was weirded out as to why you’re so adamant in making sure you were there to witness me eat all my meals until I was discharged. Even Heeseung oppa was weirded out. He asked me if you had… feelings for me. I said no. I strongly believe in it, that you harbour no such feelings towards me. A very small part of me thinks you like me—exactly like the way I like you. That very tiny part of me is giving me hope that feels illegal to have… hope that maybe I’ll be able to call you mine, and that I’ll be able to spend the rest of my life loving you loudly. Though, I’ll use my rational mind here. There’s no way you like me the way I like you. It’s impossible. It’s impossible. Maybe it’s not, but… It’s impossible. Sent 23:45 PM, 11th November.

To: [email protected] From: sincerely/[email protected] Dear Sunghoon, Thank you for always sending me plenty of food every day, at each meal time. You’re very clever, aren’t you? You’re making me feel bad if I don’t eat the food, so that way I’ll finish everything. You know me best, Sunghoon, and I sometimes hate you for that. Do you know how dangerous this fact is for my heart? She keeps on falling for you. Again, again, and again. I’ll come over to your house after I finish this practice exam paper. Wait for me :) Sent 9:08 AM, 12th November.

You’re standing in front of the hotteok booth, bundled up in a warm puffer jacket. You had decided to buy some warm street food before going to Sunghoon’s house.

You shove your hands into your pockets, trying to keep warm. You impatiently tap your feet against the concrete floor, wishing that the old lady at the stall is cooking your hotteok a little faster.

“Aunty, I’ll pay for her hotteok,” you hear a familiar voice say.

“Jake?” you say upon seeing him beside you. He gives you a toothy smile.

“Hi, good morning.”

“Good morning,” you reply grumpily, “are you the richest person in the world, or what? You don’t need to pay for my food every single time you see me.”

Jake laughs, and you see wisps of his breath vaporising from his lips. “I’ve never seen someone get mad at me for paying for their food.”

“Have you done this kind of treatment to anyone else?” you ask sharply.

Though, your tone does not intimidate Jake at all. He simply chuckles, and raises an eyebrow in amusement. “Why? Are you jealous?”

“No,” you snort, elbowing him. “Why would I be?”

“Here you go,” the hotteok lady says, handing you a paper bag filled with the goodies you asked her for. The scent attacks your nose, and you smile happily at the thought of devouring them as soon as possible.

“It’s KRW 4500,” the lady reminds, and as swift as the autumn wind, Jake hands her the money. “Thank you,” she says.

“Aish, seriously,” you grumble. “I can pay for myself, you know.”

Before Jake could say anything in reply, the hotteok lady interrupts with a cheeky smile. “Jaeyun-ah, is she your girlfriend? She’s so pretty.”

Your jaw falls open as your eyes dart rapidly between Jake and the lady. “N-no, I’m not–”

Jake grabs your hand and gives the lady a very generous smile. “Thank you, aunty, I do think she’s very beautiful too.”

You feel heat smothering the entirety of your face and you give the lady a sheepish laugh. Jake then bids farewell to the lady and leads you towards the bus station.

“You’re crazy, aren’t you?” you hiss, pulling your hand away from his grip. “I’m not your girlfriend.”

Jake raises an amused eyebrow. “Oh? I thought you said yes the other day.”

“To what?”

“You agreed to dating me for a month, as a preview?”

“When…” you take a deep breath, containing your rage. Even though Jake was a very nice and polite person that you enjoy being around a lot, there’s this cocky side of him that often gets on your nerves. “...when did I agree to that?”

Jake looks confused—causing him to break out of his arrogant and confident manner, and it took him a minute to answer. “Oh. I-I took your silence as a yes.”

You laugh defeatedly. “Jake, I don’t think that’s how it works with me.”

Jake nods slowly, removing his gaze from you. While he’s recollecting his thoughts, and possibly coming up with a new tactic to convince you to date him; you’re thinking about it yourself, too.

Jake’s nice—he’s good looking, athletic, and he’s smart too. From the beginning of your friendship with him in sophomore year, Jake has never been anything but kind and caring to you. You lost count the amount of times he’s bought you food and drinks, helped you in subjects you particularly aren’t too good in—and he doesn’t make you feel less smart at all.

Honestly, you would classify Jake as one of the guys that girls are dying to get together with. He’s fun to be around—even if he can be overwhelming sometimes—he’s outgoing and adaptable, and he loves hard.

You’ve seen the loving side of him, exposed to you for almost the entirety of your high school years. It’s just that you chose to ignore it, unable to see Jake as something more than a good friend of yours.

You lay eyes on him, feeling bad—Jake deserves someone who reciprocates the immense amount of love he gives, not someone who purposefully chooses to friendzone him every single time, even though there’s absolutely nothing wrong with him.

A voice inside your head tells you to try. That voice tells you to choose yourself, instead of pining after Sunghoon who most likely isn’t going to love you the same way you love him. It tells you that, perhaps, by giving Jake a chance, you’d give yourself one too. A chance to finally love and prioritise yourself.

“Fine,” you say, your voice shaky at first. “Let’s do it.”

YOU’RE riding the bus with Jake sitting by your side—and from the corner of your eyes, you can see how greatly his mood improved. He’s swinging his head slightly at the hum of a song he’s murmuring.

“I’ll see you later,” Jake says when the bus approaches your stop. He gives you the brightest smile you’ve seen on him yet. “Take care, text me when you get there.”

You chortle, “relax, I’m only going to Sunghoon’s house. Nothing’s going to happen.”

“Sunghoon?” Jake’s smile slips, and for a split second, you almost catch his eyes darken.

You nod cautiously. “Yeah, I’m going to study there,” you say, adjusting the tote bag on your shoulder. “Most likely I’m just going there to hangout, probably.”

“Why don’t you hang out at my place?” Jake suggests.

You grin. “You’re too clingy for someone who isn’t my boyfriend yet.”

“But–”

“Shh,” you place a finger on Jake’s lips, sending tingles through. “See you later.”

Jake watches with round eyes as you hop off the bus, waving cheerfully at him. It takes him a minute to process what happened, and it had been a little too late for him to wave back at you.

To: [email protected] From: sincerely/[email protected] Dear Sunghoon, Thanks for letting me hang out at your house today. It’s been a while since I’ve eaten your mom’s cooking, I miss it. Hoon, I hope you’ve been doing well. I hope you’ve been eating well, not missing your meals like I do, and that you’re always taking good care of yourself like how you’ve been taking care of me. Honestly, I envy you. How do you not develop feelings for someone who you’ve spent years with—who you’ve shared a bed and a blanket with multiple times, who you’ve eaten from the same utensils together a lot of times, whom you have hugged and cried with countless times. How do you not love someone, more than the boundaries of a mere friendship, who’s been there for you through ups and downs; who’s seen you at your best and your worst; who’s always making sure you’re taking care of yourself? How do you not fall in love with someone as kind as you? Sent 23:10 PM, 12th November.

To: [email protected] From: sincerely/[email protected] Sunghoon! We did it! National entrance exams are finally over! I can finally sleep in for a whole day… I’m so proud of you. I’m so proud of us. We’ve been through so many things together, now—kindergarten, elementary, middle school and now we’re more than halfway through high school! I can’t believe I’ve gone through so much with you by my side. I still remember you cheering me through my first violin recital back in second grade; and since then, you’ve never really missed any of my recitals. I still remember you teaching me how to skate, back in fourth grade, holding my hand tightly through every glide I took. I still remember you pulling me into one of the tightest hugs I’ve ever received from you, back in sixth grade, when you won the gold medal for the figure skating competition—I had never felt so joyful for someone other than you. I hope with the last bit of the school year left for us to spend together, we’ll make a lot of memories. Sent 23:46 PM, 14th November.

Knock knock. Knock knock. Knock knock.

Your eyes immediately flutter open, alarmed by the noise at your window. Groggily, you force yourself to stand up and rush to the source of the sound—your blurry vision barely making up the figure of Sunghoon outside.

“Let me in,” he says, voice muffled. “It’s cold.”

“No,” you mumble sleepily. “Who are you…?”

“Princess, it’s me,” he exclaims a little bit louder so you can hear him properly. Nodding idly, you obey and open the window for him to jump in. Sunghoon, noticing your extremely sleepy condition, wraps an arm around your shoulder. He closes the window securely with his free hand before guiding you to your bed.

“Are you that sleepy?” he asks you as he guides you to sit down in front of him. “It’s only 2 AM.”

“Mhm,” you nod, “I’m so sleepy…”

Sunghoon softly pushes away a strand of hair from your face, tucking it gently behind your ear. You’re not meeting his gaze, your eyes droopy as they fight for their life to stay open. “Do you want to sleep right now?”

You nod, and Sunghoon can’t help but chuckle—you look so unbearably cute. Then, after a minute of debating whether he should leave to let you sleep or not, Sunghoon decides to do something he’s been doing ever since the two of you were nine years old.

Sunghoon pats his thigh, signalling for you to land your head on it. Sleepy and unaware of your surroundings, you obey and lay on his lap, shifting to make yourself comfortable. Within seconds, you’re already sailing back to dreamland.

Actually, Sunghoon came to talk about his problems to you. It��s always been like that—you are each other’s safe place. He could tell you about anything and you’d listen, so intently that the problem is already instantly solved.

In the dead of the night, Sunghoon smiles to himself as he admires a sleeping you. You look so comfortable, at home, in his presence. You look so ethereal, and the moon seems to agree. Its dainty glow highlights the best of your features, glistening upon contact with your beauty. You’re sleeping, breathing gently and possibly dreaming about food and fun memories—but Sunghoon’s cheeks are reddening. His breaths are shaky, and with each exhale, he’s admitting something that he’s been denying for almost a decade.

Sunghoon likes you.

More than what friends should.

Sunghoon loves you—more than what he’d like to admit; more than what childhood friends of almost 10 years are supposed to.

“I like you, Y/N,” he whispers, and with each word that escapes from his lips, his shoulders release its tension. “I’ve liked you for a long time now. I-I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I like you.”

Sunghoons laughs, shaking his head. “Maybe I’m insane. Maybe I am, ‘cause the way my heart beats for you doesn’t suit what we are. The way I pretend that we’re just friends when every single night, I’ll dream about you–” he bit his lip, in hopes to control his feelings from overflowing, “–that is insane.”

“I didn’t want to fall in love,” Sunghoon whispers, slowly lifting his hand. He begins to trace your facial features, so gentle like he’s going to shatter you into pieces if he’s too harsh. “But you—how can someone look at you and not fall in love, Y/N?”

His finger comes into a halt at your lips. Sunghoon stares intently, his heart urging him painfully to just kiss you. He leans and kisses your nose instead, so tenderly it seemed like barely a touch.

Sunghoon smiles to himself, content. “One day, I’ll find the courage to tell you everything. I’ll tell you myself, how much I love you, how much I want you to be by my side for the rest of my life.”

THE next morning, you can’t help but laugh at the way Sunghoon’s gawking at you as you rush here and there to get ready. At first, you found it a bit weird how he slept on your floor the entire night, but given that he has been doing that for the past few years, you don’t really mind.

“What?”

“What do you mean what?” Sunghoon grumbles. “Where are you going?”

You scrunch your nose, giggling. “Guess!” you exclaim, turning away to finish doing your hair.

Sunghoon rolls his eyes. “How would I know? I mean, we are not going anywhere, so why are you dolling up?”

“Well,” you chuckle, “I’m going to the aquarium with Jaeyun. he asked—”

“JAKE?” Sunghoon yelps, almost falling off the edge of your bed.

You pause at the sudden reaction, one that you did not expect from Sunghoon. “What? We’re just friends.”

“Yet it’s a date,” Sunghoon flatly addresses.

“No it’s not!” you shriek, despite the fact that Sunghoon was in fact, correct. “I mean, yes, it is,” you roll your eyes at Sunghoon’s ‘I knew it’ expression. “But I haven’t said anything to him. Like, we’re not in a relationship or anything.”

You show Sunghoon your messages with Jake, hoping to ease the frown on his face.

hi y/n

if you’re free today

let’s go to the aquarium? let’s go by train

“See?” you say, “it’s nothing.”

Sunghoon turns off your smartphone, placing it to the side. His eyes pierce straight through you. “You look ugly.”

You gasp, your eyes widening as your smile drops drastically. What could hurt more—getting told by your crush that you look ugly, or being rejected by him?

“Okay, well, I take it back,” Sunghoon hesitates, “you l-look pretty. But, what I’m tryna say is that you don’t have to put on so much makeup.”

You stare at him, heart pounding so loudly as you await his next words.

Sunghoon continues, eyes looking away from you, “you don’t have to doll up. He’ll like you just the way you are.”

He gives you an awkward smile—leaning forward to pat your head. “I’ll wait outside. I wanna greet Mrs. Lee and say thanks for letting me sleep here.”

You watch as Sunghoon hops off your bed and walks out of the room, closing the door gently behind him. Your eyes linger around at the door, as if you’re waiting for him to come back in and watch you get ready. You sigh, turn back to the mirror, and continue finishing your makeup—doubting if you really are overdoing things with every stroke of the makeup brush.

MOMENTS later, you’re sitting in the taxi next to Sunghoon, who insisted so much that he accompanied you to the train station to meet Jake. His excuse? It’s so that you won’t get lost due to the heavy crowd at the station, and so that you won’t be too nervous to go on your first date with Jake. Sunghoon even went as far as to call your brother about it—and Heeseung agrees, so you have no choice but to obey.

“Do you like Jake?” Sunghoon asks, five minutes into the ride.

His question is direct and forward, and it feels like a bomb dropped straight to your face. It challenges you to truly label your feelings, distinguishing it clearly.

You return his gaze, biting your lower lip as you think of an answer. The answer is blurry between the lines of yes and no. “No? I mean, he’s a nice person.”

“So you like… like him?”

You aggressively shake your head. “No! I like him as a friend.”

“Then, you’re going on dates with him?” Sunghoon questions.

Your mouth sets on a hard line. “Okay, listen. Jake likes me—not the other way around—and he offered to date me for one month.”

“And you agreed?” Sunghoon jabs, his arms crossing across his chest.

Your gaze sharpens. “Gosh, Hoon, stop being so difficult! As I said, Jake’s just a friend. You don’t have to worry about anything. I agreed to dating him for a month as a ‘preview’ because he’s nice, and he likes me. Plus, it doesn’t hurt to try, does it?”

Sunghoon sighs, his jaw clenching. “You think love is a joke?”

Your mouth falls open, and for a few seconds, you struggle to form words. “N-no, I don’t. Love… it’s something serious to me, Hoon, and I know you know that. I’m just giving Jake a chance to prove himself to me.”

“Then if you don’t like him, you’ll reject him?” Sunghoon asks sharply, an eyebrow perched upwards in mockery.

“Well… yeah,” you admit silently.

You don’t know what you expect as Sunghoon’s next response, but you’re surprised to find simply nodding and turning away, scrolling through social media on his smartphone. The rest of the taxi ride remains silent, and Sunghoon only opens his mouth when you’ve arrived at the train station.

“Go on, have fun,” Sunghoon says, urging you to go out before you can offer to pay the fare. “I’ll pay—plus, I have somewhere I need to go to.”

“Are you sure?” you ask as you step out of the vehicle. Sunghoon gives you a strained smile before nodding reassuringly.

“Yes,” he replies. “Go on, princess, have fun at the aquarium. Don’t annoy Jake too much.”

“Okay,” you say, and you stand there, frozen as you watch the cab drive away. It’s painful, for some reason, to watch him let you go and do nothing about it.

Though, the universe doesn’t seem to let you dwell onto that guilt for too long. The taxi Sunghoon is in barely goes out of your sight before someone taps your shoulder. You turn around and see Jake—he’s dressed casually in a white tee, a navy blue plaid shirt as a cardigan, and brown jeans. His hair is combed nicely, in a way that some of it falls perfectly on his forehead.

“Hi,” you say, “you look nice.”

Jake smiles shyly, coughing it away. “Yeah. I-I mean, thanks. You look beautiful.”

You snort, scanning your own outfit—a white babydoll top with plain blue jeans. “Beautiful? I wouldn’t say that.”

Jake pouts. “You give yourself too little credit.”

“Whatever,” you shake your head.

“So, um, let’s go?” Jake offers you his arm. “I know you might not want to… hold my hand, but if you hold my arm, you won’t get lost in the crowd.”

You give him a slight smile, accepting his offer by grabbing his arm. “Alright, let’s go.”

For the entire train ride to the aquarium, which took about 20 minutes, Jake had been nothing but kind and caring towards you, just how you expected him to be. He made sure to find a seat that was comfortable for you—he even offered his seat to an old lady. Though, he made sure to stand directly in front of you, acting as a shield or a protector. Jake kept a respectful distance from you, but at the same time, he made sure that no creeps or anything of that sort could make you uncomfortable. Of course, you got some comments from people around you that Jake is extremely lucky to have a girlfriend as pretty as you, and vice versa. You tried to deny them at first, clarifying that you and Jake are just friends, but you gave up halfway due to Jake’s speed—you wonder how he managed to reply to them faster than you do.

When the train arrives at your designated stop, Jake offers you a hand—and you take it, letting him guide you through the ocean of people. At the ticket counter, you didn’t even have a chance to offer to pay—Jake did it all.

It’s really awkward at first, having everyone look at you with heart eyes, whispering “aww, they’re so cute”, “oh my, they look so good together”, “look at him, so sweet, paying for his girlfriend” as you and Jake pass by. Though, all the awkwardness quickly dissolves away as soon as you set eyes on the aquariums on display.

The first display hall of the aquarium is decorated with colourful and mystical lights, making the aquatic creatures living inside so much prettier. You pull out your smartphone and take numerous pictures; Jake walking close behind you, observing you intently. He smiles gently as he watches you in awe of the corals and jellyfish, sneaking a few pictures of you.

Once the two of you reach the highlight of the aquarium, which is the aquarium tunnel, you can’t help but gasp in complete astonishment. Jake watches with amusement, laughing along with you as you spin around, taking in the view around you.

“Jaeyun!” you squeal, the edges of your eyes crinkling as you smile widely. “Look! It’s so pretty!”

To you, the view around you is breathtaking—with every turn, you see sharks swimming around, followed by unknown schools of fishes and aquatic life. But, to Jake, the breathtaking view is you. Features illuminated by hues of blue and purple light, Jake can’t help but smile merrily at the sight of you, happily admiring the scenery in the aquarium.

“Yeah,” Jake replies, breathless. “It’s pretty,” he says, but he’s looking at you.

To: [email protected] From: sincerely/[email protected] Hi Sunghoon, Today’s date with Jaeyun was really fun! I haven’t been to the aquarium in Busan for quite some time, so it’s nice to be there! He paid for everything, of course, so I had to enjoy it ten times more! Hehe. He also paid for lunch… I kinda feel bad. I tried to refuse and pay for myself, but Jaeyun wouldn’t let me. :( Hmm. I hope you aren’t upset with me spending time with Jaeyun. Okay, honestly, I don’t know why I’m saying this in the first place, but… I don’t know if I should continue loving you. Sure, I still do love you, but maybe, for the sake of my heart, I’ll keep my love strictly within the limits of friendship. I don’t know. I still like you. I want to be with you, grow old and create countless memories with you. But I have to take care of my heart, too, don’t I? It’s been five years, Sunghoon, and I don’t know if my love will ever be reciprocated. I don’t know if you’ll ever love me back the same way. Besides, with school ending in five months, it’s certain that we’ll diverge in our paths—not meeting each other again for years to come. I don’t want to be in pain, Sunghoon, but at the same time, I’m willing to go through even the harshest storms and pits of hell for you. Sent 19:15 PM, 15th November.

Closing your laptop shut, you hit yoursel lightly. How could you forget? It’s Jake’s birthday! You only realised after seeing Naeun’s text, reminding you if you’d come over to her house to help Fdaniset up for Jennie and Jake’s surprise birthday party . The two of you had gone out together for the day, and you didn’t even wish him a happy birthday. Trying not to trip, you grab your purse, smartphone and a puffer coat, and run out of the house. You rush to a nearby cafe—thankfully there has been a bakery in your neighbourhood—to buy two small lunch box cakes. You whip out your smartphone, dialling Jake’s number. The sun is setting, and you desperately hope he answers, despite only parting ways with you less than 30 minutes ago.

“Y/N?” his voice came through.

You let out a shaky laugh of relief. “Oh, thank you for answering the phone. Are you free?”

“Are you okay?” he asks. “I-I mean, I’m free. Just chilling at home right now. Why?”

“I… want to drop something off,” you say, carefully choosing your words. You certainly don’t want the cake in your hands to not be a surprise. “I-I mean! I want to give you… something.”

You hear Jake chuckle. “Okay, I’ll meet you—send me your location?”

“Can we just meet at your house?” you inquire, not wanting to give Jake an inconvenience.

“I don’t prefer having the lady go out of her way to meet me,” Jake replies after some silence, “I prefer going out of my way to meet her.”

Your nose crinkles as you try to hold in your shyness. “O-oh, okay… I’ll send you my location.”

You quickly end the call, and send him the location of the cafe you’re standing in front of. A few minutes later, you see Jake running up to you—his hair messily tousled by the wind, his chest heaving up and down drastically.

“Did you run here?” you ask.

Jake nods. “Yeah. I wanted to meet you.”

You laugh, soft like the wind. “We literally just met this afternoon, Jaeyun.”

“Anyway,” you say, stretching out your arms to show the lunchbox cake, the one that you had asked the shop employee to say ‘Happy Birthday, Jaeyun!’ on it, to Jake. “Happy birthday. I’m sorry I didn’t say it earlier today, I didn’t realise it was your birthday too… I mean, you acted like it was a normal day!”

“My birthday too?” Jake asks, amusement glinting in his eyes. “Did you forget that Jennie’s my twin sister?”

You pout, not knowing what to say. “I’m sorry…”

After grabbing the cake from your hands, Jake leans forward and pats your head. “Thank you, Y/N. Means a lot.”

Then, feeling the buzz of your smartphone in your pocket, you’re reminded of the birthday surprise you need to help Naeun with. You quickly say goodbye, and wish Jake a happy birthday again before running off to catch a taxi.

Jake watches you go, his eyes lingering a second longer, even after the taxi you’re in leaves his line of sight. He turns his attention to the lunchbox cake in his hands, a smile curving up his lips as he examines its design—a cute puppy, on a plain white cake, saying ‘Happy Birthday, Jaeyun!’.

Jake turns on his heel and merrily walks home. Deep in his heart, he knows that the girl he likes has her heart set on someone else, yet this little gesture feels like he’s won her over. It’s short and doesn’t last as long as he’d like it to be, but the butterflies it gives him is enough to last him awhile.

AS you’re desperately wishing for the traffic to die down quickly, due to you needing to be at Naeun’s house as quickly as possible, your thoughts lead your mind elsewhere. You’re back to thinking about your interaction with Jake—how his surprised yet grateful smile seemed to hide a thousand more emotions behind its perfection… it lingers in your mind. His gestures are sweet and really, really thoughtful—he’s willing to go out of his way for you, always managing to crack a smile from you.

Deep down, you know Jake cares about you. He’s everything you had looked for in a partner—he’s willing to learn more about you, he’s patient and kind, he’s good looking and he’s smart—if only your heart wasn’t tightly bound to someone else.

Halfway to Naeun’s place, your smartphone buzzes with a text message. This time, it’s from Naeun. You quickly open it, expecting a “hurry up, Y/N!” or some kind of instruction for the surprise—instead, you find a picture of Jake with the lunchbox cake you gave him. He’s smiling, posing in front of his house, holding it up to the camera with that goofy, happy grin that makes your heart do a little flip.

y/n, did you give this cake to him?

it’s on his instagram story

You reply,

yes. but it’s not the one we’re surprising them with

it’s with me rn

You watch Naeun’s reply pop out on the screen.

oh good

scared me

also, what’s up with the caption?

“I think I’m in love with her, Y/N. This cake... it’s everything to me. She’s everything.”

The message halts you in motion. Your fingers hover over the screen, unsure of what to reply. For a moment, you’re sitting there, staring at the screen while the traffic buzzes around the taxi you’re in.

The message is like a hard slap to the face, but instead of making you cry, it makes you second guess everything.

Is Jake really falling for you? Are his actions purely out of love, and not just some casual ‘I like you’ kind of thing? Is he really waiting for something, some kind of answer, from you?

You press your lips into a thin line, thinking hard.

Jake has been nothing but patient, kind and loving towards you. He’s everything that every girl, including you, would ask for. Though, that fact comes with a feeling that you can’t shake off—every time you think of Jake’s smile, his kindness and his warmth; it all drifts back to Sunghoon. How the world seems to revolve around him, his smile that makes you think of bread whenever you see it, the warmth of his hugs, and the comfort of his presence.

Your heart always seems to find its way back to Sunghoon.

You swallow thickly, trying to push the guilt down. It’s not fair to Jake. It’s not fair to anyone, especially you, because you’re the one stuck in the middle of two worlds.

Do you pick Jake, or do you stay with Sunghoon?

THE surprise birthday party is a blur. Everyone’s laughing, chatting, eating their hearts away, and there’s a sense of celebration in the air—but you can’t quite ignore the clenching feeling in your stomach. You’ve got two different people to think about now, and you don’t know how to navigate the space between them.

And all the while, Jake’s smile from earlier keeps dancing in your mind. The way he’d looked at you as you handed him the cake, the way he’d thanked you so earnestly. Why did a small, lunch box cake seem to mean so much to him? How do you even respond to that? How do you face him, knowing he’s waiting for something that you might not be able to give?

You glance across the room, catching Jake’s eye as he talks with Jennie. You quickly look away, feeling a small, warm burn in your cheeks. You can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking, and more importantly, if he knows that your heart is, somehow, still tethered to someone else.

You pull your eyes away, unaware that Jake had quickly excused himself to approach you.

You sit in silence at the dining table, the birthday party bustling around you. It’s a small party, yet you can feel the high excitement and energy in the atmosphere. You sit alone at your seat, sipping on your drink. Sunghoon had left for a while to get some refreshments for everyone, so you’re left sitting by yourself.

“Y/N,” Jake says, pulling you out of your haze. “May I sit?”

You give him a quick smile as you nod. “Of course.”

“Are you not enjoying yourself?” Jake asks, grabbing a slice of pizza. “You’re quiet.”

You glance at the ceiling, feeling awkward as you don’t know what to say. You laugh sheepishly. “No, of course not! I am enjoying myself! Just… you know… soaking in everything.”

Jake laughs, throwing his head back. “I can tell with one eye closed that you want to go home right now.”

“Yeah, I should probably study,” you reply with a laugh.

Your conversation with Jake dims down, and the ambiance of the party resurfaces. You’re sitting in front of Jake, stiffly avoiding his gaze as he’s observing you. It’s like he has a million things to say, but can’t seem to find the right words.

“Y/N,” Jake suddenly says, his voice unsteady. “Thanks for making this surprise party for me and Jennie.”

You smile at him, breaking eye contact as soon as he finishes speaking. Suddenly, Layla chasing around her tail in the corner becomes such an interesting thing to watch.

“Of course.”

You connect your gaze with Jake, and you instantly are reminded of the conversation you had earlier at the aquarium.

THE tension between you and Jake is physical as you take in the beauty of the aquarium, elatedly ignorant of Jake’s silent adoration of you. Sure, the aquarium is beautiful—the lights dancing off the walls of the tunnel, creating wavy shadows of mesmerising colours, illuminating the ocean creatures in a magical way—but, for Jake, you are the most captivating sight.

Jake watches you, his focus unwavering from you, with pure content as you spin with excitement, pointing out every creature you lay your eyes upon. There’s an assured warmth in his eyes, the way he lays his eyes on you with a quiet affection that’s very much impossible to ignore; and for a moment, you wonder if maybe you’ve misjudged his feelings. Maybe there’s something deeper there that you haven’t fully acknowledged yet. Maybe he does really really like you—not the casual high school fling you thought he felt.

“Y/N,” you turn around and your pupils immediately dilate at the sight of Jake, who’s taking a step closer to you.

Jake gives you a genuine smile. One that made you see that, indeed, there are raw and vulnerable emotions behind Decelis Academy’s basketball ace’s handsome face. His voice is wobbly. “Thank you, really, for doing this with me. I’m really glad because I’m… I’m having a lot of fun, actually. More than I thought I would.”

You glance at him as you stiffly nod, your lips forming a half-smile.

“Of course,” you reply, feeling a pang in your chest as you remember Sunghoon’s words earlier in the taxi. Was he right? Could it be that Jake is looking for something more from you, and you’re just breaking his heart by doing this—the one-month dating agreement, where you yourself are uncertain if you’d reciprocate his feelings? “Me too—it’s been nice.”

Jake takes a deep breath, and as he continues, you begin to wonder if he read your mind. “I know you don’t think that this isn’t a real ‘date’ or anything… but I’d like to think of it as a real one—more than just hanging out, more than just a preview.”

You don’t dare meet his eyes. Instead, you direct your focus to the tight schools of fish swimming gracefully in the water, scales shimmering as they catch light.

“Y/N…”

You look directly into his dark brown eyes, the raw emotions swirling dangerously inside.

“I think you’re really special, Y/N. I-I just wanted to let you know that.”

Your steps come to a halt, and Jake almost bumps into you. You turn completely to face Jake, immediately overwhelmed by how heavy the situation feels. You can feel Jake’s palpable sincerity, and as you try to process his words, the rest of the aquarium fades into the background. The tunnel seems to shrink, your surroundings blurring slightly as your focus zeroes in on Jake’s face—his solemn expression, his vulnerability out in the open for you to see.

“You’re a good person, Jaeyun, you really are,” you start, your throat shaking as you struggle to keep your voice steady. Each word feels heavy for your tongue to pronounce—Jake’s gaze is heavy on you, and a small part of you wants to be brutally honest with him, to say the truth that’s been swimming in your chest all day.

“I’m really grateful to have you as a friend, as a tablemate,” you continue, desperately hoping your emphasis on the word friend delivered the message to Jake. You give him a small, almost apologetic smile.

“But, you know…” you say, your fingers fidgeting with the edges of your top. You take a deep breath before finishing your sentence.

“Right now, I’m… not sure if I can give you what you’re looking for,” you say, and with each letter you utter, the tension from your shoulders releases one by one. “I thought about it, Jaeyun, I really did. But I cherish you—as a friend—so much that I don’t have the heart to make you go through something one sided.”

Jake slowly nods, and you could almost hear your heart splitting as his face softens—you swear you saw a flicker of disappointment in his eyes.

“O-of course, I figured,” he says, the crack in his voice evident. He sighs shakily, and for a second, he looks at his shoes to collect his thoughts. He looks back at you, his eyes sparkling with tears that are threatening to fall. “It’s foolish of me to expect anything from someone who’s heart belongs to another, b-but, I just wanted to… put it out there, you know?”

“I like you, Y/N,” Jake confesses, his hand placed above his heart as if he’s trying to stop it from jumping out of his chest. “I really do. I know I have no chance at all, but there’s no harm in trying, right? I just… hope that you might feel the same.”

Your heart skips a beat, and a wave of guilt washes over you. “Jaeyun… I’m sorry, I really am–”

Jake smiles, though it’s not a full smile. “It’s okay. I get it. It’s just… I don’t know. I guess I wanted to know what it would feel like to be with you like that. I thought maybe if we tried, you’d feel what I feel. But… I respect your feelings, Y/N. You don’t have to feel the same way.”

Silence falls between the two of you, and for a moment, neither of you says anything. You stand in your place, watching Jake wipe a hidden tear away from his cheek, taking a deep breath to compose himself. You feel a want to comfort him, to tell him that you’re very grateful to have him as a friend, to tell him that you’re not rejecting him as a person—it’s just that you aren’t ready to give him what he’s looking for in you.

Though, you stay silent—the moment is too raw, too delicate for you to say anything and ruin it.

So, instead of talking about it, you grab Jake’s arm, turning your focus back to the aquarium. “Should we go see the penguins next? They must look so cute.”

Jake lets out a heavy breath, and for a second, you think he’s going to pull away or make things awkward between you. But instead, he nods, and his smile returns, albeit a little smaller. “Yeah, that sounds great. Let’s go.”

The rest of your aquarium date goes smoothly without any hiccups, though it flows with a quiet and unspoken understanding. Jake’s demeanour is unchanged—he takes good pictures of you, he smiles and he laughs, though you could feel that his gaze is heavier with a touch of disappointment. You two enjoy the aquarium together, and even though things feel a little unsettled between you and Jake, there’s a comforting familiarity in the way you share small moments of laughter and quiet companionship.

By the time the sun begins to set, you and Jake are both sitting on a bench outside the aquarium, munching on churros, watching the last few visitors leave.

Jake turns to you again, his features soft and delicate. “Thanks… thanks for coming, Y/N. I’m glad you agreed to this, I’m glad you came. Even if it’s just as friends.”

You nod, suddenly conscious of the number of chews you made before swallowing a bite of churros. “Me too,” you quietly reply, turning away to look at the soft evening glow of the sky. “Thanks, Jaeyun, for being patient with me—for being my friend, for everything. I know it hasn’t been… easy.”

“Yeah, of course. I mean, it isn’t easy, but it’s worth it,” Jake shrugs, looking way too relaxed despite the tension he faced earlier. “Definitely. You are worth it, Y/N.”

The two of you exchange smiles, briefly, as you quickly turn your head away, feeling a little too shy and awkward to look Jake directly in the eye.

“I just want you to be happy, Y/N,” Jake continues, his voice silent as if he’s talking to himself, yet he wants his words to be heard by you. “Whether that’s with me, or… not with me. I’m okay either way. My happiness is yours.”

You finally turn to Jake, staring deep into his glistening brown eyes. His words are sincere, and in your heart, you feel a swell of gratitude for his maturity. You know that Jake is someone who will always care for you, no matter what the two of you are, no matter where your relationship goes. And as you sit there in comfortable silence, the only thing that’s certain is that, for now, being friends with Jake is the best you can offer him.

To: [email protected] From: sincerely/[email protected] Sunghoon, You know, I’ve been thinking about us. I mean, me—how did I even fall in love with my own best friend in the first place. After a few moments of thinking, I believe I finally got it. It was back in second grade. I remember our homeroom teacher asking us to draw a picture of us with our best friend as part of the art class—I remember drawing you and I. we had only just got to know each other for a few months, and I wasn’t even sure if you saw me as a friend too. I was nervous to present my piece to the class, afraid that my friendship was one-sided. The shock mixed with happiness that hit me when Naeun had shouted to the whole class, pointing to your piece, saying “teacher, look! He also drew Y/N!” I had never felt so belonged before. Though, I don’t know if I should continue loving you. I’ve always loved you, but I don’t think I can bear it any longer, waiting for something that’s never going to happen. Thank you, Sunghoon, for being my friend all this time. I owe you my life, and I’d do anything for you. I hope you know that. And even though I do resent you, just a little bit, for not reciprocating my love—I’ll always cherish you. If not as a lover, if not as someone who’ll stay with me till the end of time… as a friend. Sunghoon, I’m giving up on you now. I love you, but I can’t wait forever. Sent 23:32 PM, 22nd November.

JAKE is sitting in his room, completing homework as usual. However, nothing is going right—he’s suddenly getting all of the questions he usually gets right wrong. He pushes himself off of his chair, laying down flat on the heated floor.

Jake sighs.

His mind is swirling with many things—you. He vividly remembers the way you offer him a guilty smile, endlessly apologising as you friendzoned him. He’s not mad about it, he’s just sad that he can’t get a chance at loving the girl he likes just because she’s stuck up on a guy, for five years, who clearly wants nothing but to be just friends with her.

You had just left his house, 30 minutes ago, after completing a biology research paper together. You had been assigned as partners with him, and the two of you did your job well. It’s difficult to shrug off the evident awkwardness between you and Jake, but you admit that Jake’s really good at continuing off your friendship from where you left off.

“Jaeyun,” he remembers you beaming, as he walks you to the door.

“Yeah?” he breathed, still mesmerised by your smile.

“Thank you,” you said with a smile, sincere and heartwarming. “Thank you for still being my friend, and thank you for always treating me well, despite the heartbreak I may have caused you.”

Jake remembers grinning, patting your head as a way of saying that it’s all in the past, and he’s okay with it now. “It’s alright, Y/N, I’m thankful that I still get to be around you.”

You nodded, turning on your heel to begin walking home. However, before you could even step out of his driveway, Jake stopped you.

“Y/N,” he said, “I-I just wanted to say that if you ever decide that you’re… ready to give me what I’m hoping for, know that I’ll be here waiting.”

“Jaeyun… you might wait for quite some time,” you sighed.

Jake smiled—it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, yet you can see the hope seeping through. “It’s okay. If you can wait for Sunghoon for five years, I can wait for you for more.”

You chuckled, smiling widely at Jake. “Thank you, Jae.”

Jake pressed a swift kiss to your forehead, and you froze—unusually not flinching or retracting at it. He smiled, mirroring your sincerity. “Of course—and if Sunghoon ever decides to break your heart, tell me. I’ll fight him for you.”

You laughed heartily, your heart swelling with joy at the fact that someone is here for you despite the longing and the pain you’re going through.

Jake takes a deep breath, smiling as he recalls the moment. It hurts, that’s true, yet he’s determined to give you all that he has—one moment Sunghoon is caught slacking, he’ll be there for you, always.

“YO, Sunghoon,” Kangmin says, breaking the silence in the room. The two of them had been working on the biology group assignment together for the past few hours in Sunghoon’s room. Sunghoon turns towards his friend.

“What?”

Kangmin, who had been sprawled all over the bedroom floor, gets up and sits up straight. He ruffles his hair before saying, “do you have a spare email? Like, one that you don’t use anymore.”

Sunghoon pauses to think. “Yeah, I do. Why?”

Kangmin smiles sheepishly, scooting closer to Sunghoon, who’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, papers and books spread out around him.

“Hey,” he says, mustering up an innocent smile—which is met by a vicious side eye from Sunghoon. “Can I use it?”

“For what?”

“I think my girlfriend isn’t interested in me anymore,” Kangmin replies, pouting. “I’m not entirely sure yet, so I’m going to make a fake instagram profile, using your unused email address, to test my theory out.”

Sunghoon goes poker-faced, obviously unimpressed. “Are you crazy?”

Kangmin insists. “Aww, please, Sunghoon? I really need it.”

“Fine,” Sunghoon grumbles. He opens a new window on his computer to log into an old email account, [email protected], the one that he hasn’t used ever since middle school ended. He’s surprised to still have the password to it saved on his Google Chrome—and easily logs in.

Sunghoon’s eyebrows perk up in confusion at the red dot near the inbox icon, the numbers significantly high for an unused email address.

“I’m sure I didn’t subscribe to any newsletter or anything on here,” he mutters to himself.

Sunghoon clicks on the inbox tab, eyes widening upon what he’s seeing.

Countless emails, sent from an email address he’s all too familiar with.

Yours.

Sunghoon’s eyes scans the inbox, his disbelief growing with every second that passes by. His heart is racing, pumping so harshly he’s afraid it’d pop out of his chest.

He’s familiar with the name of the sender—Y/N—his best friend, his rock, the person he’s liked for so long.

There are so many emails—too many to ignore. The subject lines are all over the place: “What’s going on with my heart?”, “Thanks for letting me hang out at your house today…”, “I think I just fell in love with you again.”

Sunghoon’s heart pulses even faster, but he can’t seem to stop himself. He clicks on the most recent one, his heart pounding in his ears as the screen fills with words.

His heart stops for a split moment as he reads: “I’m giving up on you now. I love you, but I can’t wait forever.”

What did you mean by that?

Sunghoon stammers, not knowing how to react. His hand hovers above the mouse, hesitating to click anything. A lump forms in his throat, and tears threaten to form at the corner of his eyes. His thoughts start crashing down, and before he can even stop himself, he’s opening another email. And then another. And another.

Each one hits him with a sensation more painful than a ton of bricks hitting from above. The emails all have one thing in common: you have been writing to him for months. Writing to him, pouring out your heart, confessing feelings that you pictured as something obvious yet he never knew about, and… he hadn’t noticed. All the smiles, the eye contacts that lasted a second too long, the hugs that made each of you feel like you’re made for one another… he realises that it meant something to you too.

“I’ve always loved you..”

“But I don’t think I can bear it any longer, waiting for something that’s never going to happen.”

Sunghoon’s chest tightens. His eyes flickers over the sentence again and again, each word displayed hitting him hard. His fingers freeze, unsure if he should keep scrolling or not. It feels like he’s been hit by a storm of emotions that he isn’t sure how to process.

“Sunghoon?” Kangmin’s voice pulls him out of his haze.

Sunghoon looks up, startled, but then glances back at the screen, trying to collect his thoughts.

“What the hell?” Kangmin continues. “Park Sunghoon? Are you listening to me?”

Kangmin, who’s been watching Sunghoon for a while, curiously taps his shoulder. “Bro, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Y/N…” Sunghoon mutters, his voice barely audible. He’s still staring at the screen, mind dizzy. “She… she’s been writing to me.”

Kangmin raises an eyebrow, clearly confused. He breathily asks, “what do you mean? Like, she sends you emails?”

Sunghoon swallows hard, clicking on another email. This one was from a few months ago.

“I wish I was better. I don’t know if I’m good enough for you, but if you ever need a girlfriend, or a wife one day… I’m here. Always.”

The weight of the words crushes him.

Kangmin’s teasing grin fades as he notices Sunghoon’s expression shift from confusion to something more profound. “W-wait. What? Are these... from Y/N? Are you telling me she’s been in love with you? For real?”

Sunghoon nods slowly, still unable to look away from the screen. “I… I never knew.”

Kangmin blinks, looking between Sunghoon and the open inbox. “Dude, I thought you two were just friends.”

“We are. Definitely. We are,” Sunghoon’s voice is hoarse, like he’s trying to convince himself. “But these... These are real. She’s been telling me everything, and I—”

Sunghoon inhales sharply, stopping himself from continuing. His mind is flooded with thoughts—how could he have missed the signs? How could he not notice how you felt?

“What are you going to do now?” Kangmin asks after a moment. “Are you going to talk to her about it?”

Sunghoon doesn’t answer immediately. He meets Kangmin’s eyes, like he’s trying to find solutions. His thoughts are still sprawling, and one question lingers around the longest—is he losing you? Have you truly given up on him?

“I’ll talk to her—no, I need to talk to her,” Sunghoon finally says, each word slipping off his tongue quieter than the other. “I have to make things straight—I can’t lose her. I-I… She deserves the truth more than anything.”

Kangmin grows a tiny smug smirk. “The truth? Well, man, don’t leave me hanging like you did with Y/N—what’s the truth?”

Sunghoon stands up, determination filling his veins like never before. “I like her—I’ve liked her for a very long time. I’ve been such a coward all this time. An idiot, all this while.”

Kangmin grins, leaning back on the floor. He sighs with content. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.”

Sunghoon turns to him with a furrowed brow. “Hey, I’m serious, Kangmin. I don’t know if I have a chance to fix this. But I’m going to try. I can’t just—I can’t just…let her go.”

The thought of losing you completely—of never getting the chance to be honest about his feelings, to be honest and open to you about what he’s been hiding in his heart—hits him harder than anything else. He grabs his smartphone, fingers already dialling your number before he even realises it.

SUNGHOON stands on top of the hill, surrounded by yellow crimson trees and chilly air. He’s bundled up in a long trench coat, and the autumn wind is blowing through his hair. He called you to meet him here, telling you that he’s got something to discuss with you.

It hasn’t even been five minutes since he’s arrived, and he already sees you getting off the bus, running towards him. You reach him, crouching as you pant heavily to catch your breath.

“What the hell, Hoon,” you say between heaves of breaths. “Also, are you okay? You’ve been a little off lately, is it hockey practice?”

Sunghoon shrugs. “Yeah. I-I’ve been quite tired with school and practice.”

“Okay… so, what’s up? You said you wanted to tell me something,” you ask Sunghoon.

You look up to Sunghoon, realising how tall he is—you shake your head, wanting to stay resolute on the decision you made to move on. Waiting for Sunghoon to reply, you recall the email you sent him yesterday. It’s hard, and you know that—your heart still skips a beat whenever you see him smile, and your cheeks still turn pink whenever he calls you ‘princess’.

Though, it’s been five years.

You’ve thought of it long and hard, and ultimately, you decide to slowly let your feelings go. You know that accepting that Sunghoon is never going to reciprocate the love you bear for him will make you feel lighter, little by little, and it will help calm your nerves from all the swirling thoughts of him, Jake, and everything else going on. However, you also know that it’s a challenging process that will take a long time to go through.

“It took me ten years to find the right words to say this,” Sunghoon begins, out of the blue, startling you.

He pauses, his mouth slightly open, as if he’s hesitating to continue. As if he’s unsure of what to say first.

“What?” you breathe, uncertain if you should be relieved or scared.

Sunghoon looks at you for a moment, and then his gaze softens. You’ve never seen him look so… vulnerable. There’s something different in the way he’s standing there, next to you against the cold autumn winds, like he's on the edge of a cliff. He closes his mouth, and opens it again, but nothing comes out.

A minute passes in silence, heavy and full of unspoken things. Finally, Sunghoon exhales shakily, his shoulders relaxing just a little as he begins to speak again.

“I read the emails.”

His voice is barely above a whisper, but the words still land like a punch to the gut, its impact so big it knocks the breath out of you. “I had no idea. You’ve been... carrying this all alone, haven’t you?”

You’re caught off guard. You can’t look at him directly, your eyes flicker here and there, panic filling your nerves. The words tumble out before you can stop them. “Sunghoon, I—”

“No,” he interrupts, his voice gentle and his gaze is locked on yours, honest and raw. “I should’ve known. I should’ve seen it. I never noticed how much you’ve been giving. How much you’ve been waiting for me.”

You feel the tension tighten between you both, and something vulnerable stirs in your chest.

He saw the emails?

Your heart begins to race. For a second, your mind is overwhelmed, but the sincerity in his eyes keeps you in place.

“I didn’t want to burden you with this, Hoon,” you finally manage to say, your voice shaky. “I thought it was better if I just… kept it inside. I thought we’re better off as friends. I didn't want to mess up what we had. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. But… I can't help how I feel.”

Sunghoon’s gaze softens, his voice slow but determined. “Y/N, I should’ve told you a long time ago. I’ve been so stupid. I was afraid it’d ruin everything. I–oh my gosh,” he ruffles his hair aggressively, pacing here and there before finally stopping in front of you, his stance determined.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demands, his voice cracking.

A warm tear falls down your cheeks, sending goosebumps throughout your body. You didn’t even realise you had been crying. “Because I was scared,” you quietly answered, your voice hoarse.

Silence.

The wind flutters between the two of you, stinging against your skin.

“I… I feel the same way.”

His words are almost fragile, like he's unsure whether to say them or not. “I’ve always felt the same. I just… never brought it up… until now. But I’m here now. And I’m finally being honest with you. I’m not going anywhere.”

Your tongue goes numb. Everything’s hitting you at the same time, crushing you under its pressure.

Sunghoon watches you intently, waiting for a response. Getting no answer from you, he takes a step forward.

“Y/N,” he calls softly. “Princess, answer me.”

Tears begin to rapidly fall down your cheeks, your vision blurring, a response to the culmination of years of suppressed emotions. Your shoulders begin to heave up and down as you sob silently. Sunghoon’s frown falters, and he pulls you into a hug. It’s comforting, warm, and feels like home—perfectly where you always wanted to be.

“I’m sorry, princess, it took me so long to realise,” he mutters, placing his chin on top of your head.

“I’ve waited for five years, Hoon,” you sob against his chest. Sunghoon smiles softly, rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here now,” he replies, “I’ll be here for you till the end of time.”

“I’ve always wanted to be the one for you, Y/N,” Sunghoon says, and your heart begins to race in disbelief.

“N-no,” you reply with a suppressed laugh, “I thought I was alone in this.”

“No,” Sunghoon shakes his head, “no, Y/N, you were never alone in this.”

“We don’t have to figure everything out right now.” Sunghoon says quietly, “I just want you to know I’m here. We’ll take it slow, okay?”

You nod, still in his embrace.

Like autumn, the wind rustling through the trees and golden leaves falling around them—the atmosphere around you and Sunghoon is changing. The world is moving on, yet the moment is special, as if it’s frozen in time.

THE scent of roasted chestnuts and warm bungeo-ppang fills the crisp winter air. Around you, the night market is bustling, filled with clouds of steamy breaths and people bundled under thick coats and scarves, lined up just to buy their favourite winter treats.

You stare at the bungeo-ppang in your hands, then at Sunghoon, who’s standing in front of you.

“You brought me here, away from the comfort of my warm blanket, just to buy me this?”

Sunghoon shrugs, biting into his own fish-shaped pastry. “You always wanted the most fresh, warm, and crispiest one, so I made sure to get the best for you.”

You narrow your eyes. “You’re bribing me to like you back, aren’t you?”

He smirks. “Maybe. Is it working?”

You roll your eyes, scoffing. You bite a piece out of your bungeo-ppang, looking up at Sunghoon. Your heart stutters, catching the way Sunghoon is looking at you—soft, patient, like you’re someone worth waiting even a thousand years for.

You slowly chew the contents of your mouth, cheeks warm, but you still keep your eye contact.

Then, almost too casually, Sunghoon says, “I want to be your first and last love.”

Your eyes bulge, and you cough as you try not to choke. Your breath catches in your throat, your fingers freezing mid-motion. The words, sudden yet sincere, hang around you and Sunghoon, light but unbelievably heavy.

You begin to smile. You stuff a piece of bungeo-ppang into Sunghoon’s mouth. “That was so cheesy.”

Sunghoon laughs, his eyes crinkling into crescent moons. He barely manages to chew before he replies, “but you liked it.”

You don’t answer.

Instead, you tug him down by his scarf and kiss him.

The bungeo-ppang in your hand, your favourite winter snack, is forgotten the moment the distance between you and Sunghoon, your favourite person, closes, and his warmth melts into your own.

― © htaesan, 2025.

⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ check out PART ONE

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀want more like this? check out the 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

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fanfics-i-find-here · 1 day ago

Text

Do I Know You? Part 15

Synopsis: You’re angry at Red Hood, not Jason.

Notes: so, this got really angsty at the end. I don’t know what happened. I knew ya’ll where so excited to have our boy back, and everything with Jason is fine, but Red hood… it's rough. Anyway, I guess, enjoy?

Masterlist

When you woke from your nap, you did a mild pick-up of your apartment (not really, just moved things around so it looked more organized), then you sat on your couch to watch TV. You hated it. Your mind would lose focus and wander to other things, things you didn’t want to think about. It led to you staring at your hands far too many times, picturing blood that was no longer there.

You noticed that your knuckles were dried out, cracking a little. It was odd. In the three years you’d lived in Gotham, you never had an issue with dry skin, considering it was an island on water. You rub at the chapped skin and realize you’ve been overwashing your hands without thinking about it. Neither the girls nor Jason had mentioned it, although with how you keep your apartment, you imagine they didn’t think anything of it. You were having a serious Macbeth moment that worried you, but what else could you do?

At the usual designated time slot, you unlocked your window and waited. And waited. And waited. Nearly three o'clock in the morning, you startle awake on your couch. You practically jump over to the window, having heard a noise on the fire escape, but you find nothing more than one of the neighbor's cat on the fire escape. It blinks at you before scampering up the stairs on the escape. You sigh and accept that he isn’t coming tonight.

The upset that had simmered over the past few days returns. You collect his jacket from where it hangs by your door and march to your window. You shove it open, shivering from the cold air, and toss the jacket onto the escape. There was no reason for you to hold onto it. If he wanted it, he could come and get it because obviously, he didn’t want to talk to you, so you didn’t want to talk to him.

You went to bed upset and tossed and turned for the rest of the early morning. By seven o'clock, you gave up on the idea of sleeping. You paced around your apartment before you came to an understanding with yourself. Cass and Steph were right, you couldn’t stay at home forever. That, and you really needed a distraction, even if it was only for four hours.

****

Jason had been worried on patrol all night. Steph and Cass had reported to him that overall, you seemed okay, if not a little overwhelmed in crowded places. He was shocked when they said they had taken you shopping, surprised you willingly left your apartment. He was mostly happy to know that you were on the up-and-up of your traumatic experience much faster than he would’ve thought. Or at least a little bit. They had told him that while you hadn’t rushed them out the door, there was a certain relief on your features as they were leaving, no doubt about finally having an evening for yourself after constantly having people around.

It’s the reason he didn’t show up that evening, at least that you saw. He had stopped by in his old way, across the street on the roof, around one in the morning. He could see your TV running and spotted the lump that was you asleep on the couch. White noise, he assumed. The TV would be better than silence. He didn’t even check the window, just threw a longing glance at your apartment before moving on his patrol, you constantly in the back of his mind. You clearly needed the time alone, which is why he was surprised when he received a text from you about mid-morning.

You: I’m going to work today walk me home?

He didn’t even respond; just picked up the phone and called you. You answered immediately.

“I only tease you about technology, I know you know how to respond to a text.” Is the first thing you say. Jason can feel the tension leave his shoulders just at the sound of your voice. He shakes his head and refocuses.

“Sweetheart,” had he paused, he would have heard the audible pleased sigh that escaped your lips at the name, “are you sure you're ready to go back to work?”

“I don’t really have a choice. I already called Jackie and told her I would come to work half a shift.” You're clearly making up a reason not to back out, dependable.

“I’ll call back and tell them you changed your mind.” He states, not wanting you to force yourself into it.

“Worry not, I haven’t changed my mind.” You tease. The lilt of your voice when you get like this was something Jason hadn’t realized he missed. You were doing better if your attitude was anything to show for it. After a moment of silence, Jason caught up in the sound of you getting ready for work, you repeat the question you had texted.

“Will you come walk me home?” He answers quickly, easily, despite how tired he was from his night of patrol and bad sleep (worrying about you).

“Course. What time do you get off?” There’s a clatter on the other end of the line (a surprised drop from how quickly he answered), and he’s about to ask if everything is okay, but you respond, rushed, about when you get off.

“And what time do you go in? I can walk you to work, too.” He offers. He hears you suck in a stuttered breath all movement stopping.

“It’s okay, Jay. Daylight hours, I’ll be fine.” You reassure him. Jason wouldn’t admit it aloud, but his stomach fluttered at the way you said Jay. You had never called him that before and even though it was just a shortened version of his name, you said it so sickly sweet that it got to him.

“Alright,” He concedes only because he knows you might berate him if he asked if you were sure about it. He manages to keep you on the phone until you're nearly to work, idle silence mostly filling the space between you two. He enjoyed learning that you talk to yourself sometimes as you get ready, and you will share whatever you see with him as you walk, a dog, some trash on the street, or a motorcycle that made you think of him. You had rushed a goodbye to him just as you opened the door to Jackie’s. He eyed the time. Four hours to waste.

Jason only lasted three hours before he showed up at Jackie’s. He parked his bike in its usual spot in front of your building and tried to take his time walking. It didn’t work. You were walking by with a plated muffin as he opened the door. Your eyes lit up when you saw him, and you greeted him happily.

“Jason!” You held the plate away from your body as you leaned towards him, and without thinking, he pressed a kiss to your temple, hand on your shoulder to steady you. When he pulls back to really look at you, he finds your under-eyes puffy and your eyes red, like you’d been crying. He’s about to ask you about it, but you were off to drop the muffin. He hesitates at the door, wondering if he should sit or wait for you to come back. You stop at the table and start talking to the customers. He takes that as his cue to sit down.

He brought his book like always, considering he was early anyway. He reads, periodically glancing up like you'll materialize right in front of him. He becomes focused on his book when you appear. You set his designated drink on the table and sit down in the booth next to him, sliding until your touching, thighs and shoulders pressed. You sag against the seat, and he nearly does the same. He turns his head to look at you, an odd angle, but he doesn’t want to pull away. Your hand wiggles where your thighs meet, and without a second thought, his fingers curl around yours.

“Hi.” Your voice is drained, but you look happy as you settle your chin on his shoulder to meet his eye.

“Hi,” he replies, and before he can ask you his question, you answer.

“I’m okay,” you say with a grin.

“Then why do you look like you’ve been crying?” He brings his free hand to press at your cheek, thumb rubbing at the delicate skin under your eye. Your eyes flutter, and you pull your face off his shoulder and out of his hand.

“Darla brought her granddaughter in.” Your eyes start to water again. “She was so cute and just so small,” your hand leaves his to show him, “Her little head fit in my hands.”

Jason nearly laughs at you for crying about a baby, but the way you pout at him makes him stop. He pats your thigh as a means to comfort you.

“Okay, but you seemed high-spirited when I came in,” he says. You roll your eyes and bring your hand up to swipe at a tear.

“Because Darla brought her granddaughter in,” you say it like it’s obvious, like he’s just being silly for asking the question. He gives you a look, and you shake your head.

“Between Darla and baby Claire, the girls, and you, it was a good reminder that life is long and not just the now. Not everything is bad, there’s still good in the world.” You add, picking at your cuticles. Jason understands now, maybe a little too much. He had spent a year trying to take over Gotham and get back at Bruce. A year with nothing good shining through the darkness. Focusing just on the bad will do that. You seem more even-balanced than he ever was. A silence settles between you two, it's not awkward, though. You stop picking at your hands and settle your head on his shoulder.

“I think I'm tired, too,” you murmur. “It’s making me a little sensitive, I think.” The silence returns, your hands threaded with Jason’s again, and he almost thinks you’ve fallen asleep until the door dings, and you’re up and out of the booth and in record time.

The next hour is spent easily. You’d return and sit for a little while and then leave to attend customers before coming back again. At the end of the work hours, you slide next to him, now apronless. You settle against his shoulder again, reading the book with him. At the end of the chapter, he closes the book and looks at you.

“Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” you answer, sliding out of the booth and working to zip up your jacket. It's a new one, Jason thinks, having never seen it on you before.

“New Jacket?” Your hands stutter your movement at the question.

“I lost my other one, had to drag this one out of storage.” You mumble. Jason thinks for a moment, trying to figure out where you would have lost your jacket. He had seen you wearing it about a week ago before he remembers. When Red Hood pulled you out of the warehouse, he had given you his leather jacket because you didn’t have one. If you had been walking home, you would have been wearing one, which means it's either still in that warehouse or in a police evidence locker. Jason felt guilty for a moment, like he should have gotten you a new one so you didn’t have to drag one out for storage. One that had clearly seen better days based on the melted hole on the sleeve near your wrist.

You don’t give him time to question or offer because you're already headed for the door. He’s quick to rush ahead of you to open the door. You give him a smile with a scrunched nose like you might tease, but you keep your mouth shut. Once out the door and walking down the street, your gloved hand slips into his pocket where his hand was. Fingers curl together in the warmth of the pocket, and Jason has never been happier.

If he was completely honest, the almost two days away from you were ridiculously hard. You were like a drug to him, and his withdrawal made him antsy, waiting to see you again. Enough so that Damian had pointed it out while they were taking down an arms deal. Damian, who is so much like his father when it comes down to the mission. Jason had denied anything, but Damian had just given him a deadpan look that reminded Jason of when Damian was a baby in the league. He pulled himself together for the rest of the patrol.

Walking with you is much like walking with you on the phone, idle silence, and pointing at things of interest. The walk was slow, even though you looked tired and no doubt ready to be home. Once you reached your apartment building, Jason realized why.

“Thank you for walking me home, Jason.” Your touch slips from his, and you sway on your feet, unsure. You were really tired, exhausted even. It irked you that you only worked four hours and felt like you did a double shift. It probably didn’t help that you had practically bawled your eyes out when Darla brought in her granddaughter, a reminder of where life had started, how far you’ve come, and how far you have yet to go. She had shaken her head at you and let you hold the little girl longer than necessary.

Being so tired, you just wanted to sleep, but you didn’t want Jason to leave. During the time the girls were with you, beyond curiosity, you hadn’t really thought about him, but the moment they were gone was a whole other story. Without distraction, you had become conscious of a Jason-shaped gap in your chest.

You knew you liked Jason, that wasn’t news to you, but this was different. It was a tender, nearly guilty feeling. You felt like, perhaps, he was just indulging you and your affections in the last week because you had been through something traumatic. It's why you were not inviting him up to your apartment (and subsequently into your bed). You wanted to, desperately, having already come to terms with the fact that you sleep better next to him. But you can’t do it, not if he’s just gentle and sweet on you because that’s what you need right now.

He stares at you, and you shift on your feet. You feel like your old way of things are filtering back in. He turns without a word to his bike, same spot as always, and you think he’s going to leave without saying anything until he turns back to you. He holds a rectangular box, only a little bigger than your hand. He holds it out to you expectantly, a slight pink on his cheeks. He speaks as you take it and open it.

“I’m always more than willing to walk you to and from work, but if you're insistent about guilt-tripping yourself out of asking me, at least you’ll be able to protect yourself.” You glance up to glare at him for the guilt trip comment, but it falters when you see his knowing look. Inside the box is an unassuming smaller black box with grip grooves on the side. It kind of reminds you of an old Nokia phone. You pick it up and turn it over in your hand, confused.

“It’s a taser,” Jason says, your whole hand hold changes to two fingers holding it away from you. Jason laughs.

“It’s not a gun, sweetheart,” he takes it from you and edges into your space to show you how to use it. A button on the side to start the electricity startling you and he explains where to aim if someone grabs you and then he’s handing it back to you.

“And it’ll fit in your bag.” He adds like he’s trying to sell it to you. You glance at the said bag, then at the taser, then at him. He seems a little flustered, and it makes you grin; the tender, less guilty version of your feelings works its way across your body.

“Thank you, Jay,” his flush deepens slightly in a way that makes you want to tease him just to see how dark the red would get (or perhaps to see how low it would go), but you reel yourself in. You do stand on your tiptoes and press a kiss to his cheek that he seems pleased about. He nods and pulls back to get his helmet.

“See you later?”

“yea”

He climbs onto his bike, and you take an appreciative glance, having forgotten how good he looked on his bike. He waves at you, and you return the gesture before he’s gone. You sigh as you climb the stairs into your building. You were in deep with this boy, and you had no idea what to do with it.

****

You did manage to take a nap, longer than you expected. Long enough to keep you awake in the middle of the night, which you had not planned. You’re sat at your island, sipping a warm lemon water trying to lull yourself to sleep when you hear the creak of the fire escape. Your whole body freezes. You know it’s Red Hood this time, the noise more obvious. You don’t know why you thought the cat yesterday was him. You hear a knock on the window.

You don’t move from your spot, instead taking another sip of your water, back still facing the window. You wait for him to leave. You had left his jacket out there the night before. There was nothing else he needed here.

He knocks, and you feel your upset and anger flare again. Why can't he just leave you alone? Can't he tell you don’t want to talk to him? You hear the squeak of your locked window opening, a cold breeze drifting in, and then the window closing. You finally turn to glare at him.

“What the hell are you doing?”

The jacket you had left outside is already draped on the back of a chair at the dining table. His helmet is off but still in his hands. You wish he had kept the helmet. His normal, hard-set features are that of a kicked puppy. Thank god his eyes were covered because if they weren’t, you would probably have folded at the sight of them. He suddenly seems hesitant, frozen mid-motion, to set his helmet down.

“What?” his voice is quieter than you think you have ever heard. Your chest aches. You missed him in the past four days, but you wouldn’t let that deter you. You were angry and rightfully so; he got you kidnapped.

“I said, ‘What the hell are you doing?’ I left your jacket outside and locked the window so you wouldn’t come in.” You regret the way you're speaking to him. This isn’t like you, but your outrage oversteps your regret.

“I just wanted to check on you,” he says, slowly setting his helmet on the dining table. You glare at the harsh red metal.

“I’m fine. Get out.” You say flatly. This was hurting you more than you’d like to admit. Red Hood was a friend, a good friend, but his presence led to the disaster that was that night in the warehouse. You got kidnapped because of him, and he didn’t even save you; you saved yourself, and you weren’t proud of it.

“It’s okay if you’re not. You killed someone. That’s not something you just get over.” He says. It wasn’t lost on Jason the fact that you hadn’t told anyone what happened with Ted Jackson. He had talked to Cass and Steph about it and had a long conversation with Bruce in Cave about it that Barbara had inserted herself into regarding what she knew from her father, unofficially, of course.

He takes a step forward, and you take a stunned half-step back. You press yourself against the island, despite him being nowhere near you. Your hands curl around the counter edge, and Jason can see your nails digging underneath. This had been what he’d been worried about. Every time he had badged you about how you were doing as Jason was him, trying to goad you into talking about this. He had worried that you had locked it away in your mind as something to deal with later, but he had already seen spurts of it leak into the way you reacted to things. Despite being hopeful that you would talk to Red Hood about it because he already knew, Jason is sorely disappointed when you just repeat your words.

“Get. Out.” Your words are hard, but your voice shakes as you speak them: “I want you to leave and never come back.” Your eyes are watery, but the rest of your features are set harshly. He’s surprised by it. He didn’t think you could look so…cold.

“Sweetheart,” he offers the name softly, trying to coax you into talking, but you cut him off, voice louder than before.

“You don’t get to call me that.” You point an accusatory finger at him, “You don’t get it. I want you out of my apartment, and I want you out of my life.” There’s a light streak of tears slowly moving down your cheek. Jason doesn’t like the way this conversation feels; his heart hurts in the way you speak to him, especially after knowing the blissful touch of your affection. He has to remind himself that you're talking to Red Hood, not to Jason.

“Listen-” He tries again, but now you’re wound up.

“No, you listen! A man is dead, and it’s all your fault his blood is on my hands.” You present your palms like the blood was still there. “I don’t want you here.” Your words are harsh as you yell, despite the tears streaming down your cheeks. Jason feels suddenly inept that he can't comfort you, can’t press into your space, and wipe away your tears. All he can do is stand there and watch you.

You were right, He thought to himself. If he had been quicker, gotten to you faster, saved you like the alleged hero he was, you wouldn’t have to be dealing with this. Regardless of his years of training, he hadn’t saved you. Sure, you were alive, but you had taken a life. Something you never should have had to do. And while he was proud of you at the time (part of him was still proud of you for it, but that was his secret), he’s upset with himself for even letting it happen.

“Okay,” he resigns as he digs a hand into his pocket, “but before I leave, I have something for you.”

“I don’t want anything from you.” Your voice is weak and choked, and he hates it. He pulls out the locket necklace he had Barbara make for you, and he presents it, holding it by the chain.

“Jewelry won't fix any of this.” You sniffle. He sighs at your comment. He wants to step closer to you, to hand it directly to you, but he won't. He pops open the locket to show you the button inside.

“It's an emergency alert,” he meets your reddened eyes, “you were taken, and I couldn’t find you fast enough. If something happens, press this button and someone,” he doesn’t offer himself, “will come find you and help you, one of the bats. We’ll all get an alert that you're in trouble.”

He places it on the table and picks up his helmet, sliding it on, pulling on his jacket. You haven’t said anything else, only staring at the gold locket.

“Wear it, please. If not for my peace of mind, then for yours. I’m sorry… for everything.” You still don’t say anything. He takes that as his cue to leave. Out the window and down the street, he doesn’t even wait on the roof to watch you lock the window.

He was genuinely hurt, if not a little surprised by how the evening went. He had planned to talk to you about what happened, to help you deal with it all, to give you someone to talk to. He hadn’t expected you to blow up at him like that, hadn’t realized how good you were at hiding your inner turmoil from the people around you. He understands, he thinks, why you are upset.

However, it just made his plans that much harder. He wanted to tell you about being Red Hood. Not yet, but eventually. But if you hate Red Hood, carrying a disdain for him, what would happen if he did tell you the truth? He had told himself before that if you hated him for Red Hood or his feelings, then that would be fine, but now, seeing the blank glare you had given him the entire time. He doesn’t think he could do it. It might actually kill him if you looked at Red Hood and Jason like that. Maybe it just won’t ever come out. Maybe he could hide it forever, right? That will work out just fine, he decides

****

The moment you see his figure disappear from the fire escape, you break down sobbing. You collapse on the floor and curl in on yourself. You hate this, you hate this. This ugly, complicated feeling, you hate it so much. Why? Why did you have to feel like this? You thought everything was fine, that you were over it, that you were dealing. It’s okay if you’re not. Both Jason and Red Hood had said something along those lines. Your stupid Jar rattles, and you wish it was real so you could chuck it at a wall.

As much as you hated the way you were feeling, you hated yourself more for how you spoke to him, hated the way you just let the words slip out. Words spoken in anger were the ones most regretted. You didn’t want him to leave your life forever. You wanted him to come back, to be there for you. Even if it was just to judge your cooking skills and tease you about your pickiness.

He was your friend, and you didn’t have a lot of those. Of course, you chased him off, letting your fear of loss hide under a shield of anger. You can't let a good thing last. Better to make it bad before it’s gone.

You sat on the floor, having your own personal pity party for longer than you're proud of. By the time you stood up, your hips ached from sitting on the hardwood floor. You throw a longing glance at the locket but don’t pick it up or go near it. You drag yourself into your bed and curl into a ball. You feel cold, sad, and ashamed. Ashamed for yelling and letting your emotions get out of hand. You cry yourself to sleep, wishing you could take everything back.

Additional Notes: I am so sorry about that ending. That was so rough. Anyways, next week is a filler chapter with Jason. Yay for complicated feelings. Thank you for reading. Let me know what you guys thought! <3 <3

Tag List: @little-miss-naill, @nikilolo787, @joonunivrs, @uzxotic, @qardasngan, @stormz369, @g4bbi3xx, @iwatobiswimbros, @the-lonely-flute, @elz-xo, @gone-batty-fics, @princessesgarden, @notfckincreative, @love-theangel, @feyres-fireheart, @penguimlover23, @herodedicatedblog, @dearghostling, @automaticplant

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #do i know you?#kandywrites #fanfics-i-find-here

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astraljedi · 3 days ago

Text

With you, I serve

With you, I fall down - Joaquin Torres

This wasn't requested and I haven't written in a while for Tumblr, but I suddenly had the itch to write this after watching Captain America yesterday. I've loved this man since forever and its a shame that I started so late to write for him! Warnings: Contains spoilers from Captain America: Brave New World, angst, mention of war & combat trauma, severe injuries (burns, surgery)

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x Female OC

Word Count: 2,931

Song: epiphany by Taylor Swift

A/N: For every Joaquin fic I write, I’ll be using my OC. It makes writing easier for me when I can create a character with a backstory. I don't include any detailed descriptions of the OC, other than that she's female.

Unknown Location, Military Base – 08:45

“I want to make this clear: everyone in this room is considered the top of your class as pilots. Your classmates are not your enemy—ego is your enemy,” I begin, scanning the faces of the pilots seated before me. “We are all here for one reason: to protect those who need protecting. We might butt heads during flight practice, but get this through your skulls. We defend the helpless, and we all make it back alive.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the class chants, posture rigidly straight. I stand at the front of the room, just beside the podium I refuse to use. With a nod, I dismiss them to retrieve their flight gear and prepare their planes for their first flight evaluation.

As I gather my belongings to do the same, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I glance at the screen—unknown caller ID.

“Captain, a word.”

I turn to see Colonel Matthews stepping into the classroom. I’ve been under his wing since I started my career and he was still a lieutenant. I enlisted after my mother passed during deployment, and he gave me the support and time to grieve. But he also made sure I knew I was more than my mother’s legendary career. I built my own, becoming a pilot and now a flight instructor.

“Colonel, of course.” I set my phone atop my files and face him.

“What do you think of the class? I need your honest opinion.” His brows are nearly stuck together, and he shifts on his feet, the stress written all over his face.

“Well, on paper, they look good, but I haven’t started their evaluations yet,” I admit. This assignment was suddenly dropped on me, so I only had a few hours to go over their files last night. I barely slept, and during my morning FaceTime with my boyfriend, he didn’t hesitate to scold me for it. As if he has any room to talk when he can knock out the second his head hits the pillow, while I need a full ritual just to get a decent six hours. “I’ll have a solid opinion after their flight practice.”

“Good. With what happened at the White House, Celestial Island, and whatever the hell decides to show up next, we need the best.”

When half the world disappeared, we adjusted and survived. But when suddenly everyone came back, it was chaos. And things just keep happening. Now we live in a new fear—what if the Blip wasn’t the worst? What if something bigger is out there?

“We do.” I nod. “And I know I can push these pilots to their full potential.”

“Oh, I know. That’s why you’re here.” He smiles, patting my shoulder. “Your mother would be proud of you.”

I force a smile, ignoring the faint ache in my chest. “Thank you.”

He glances at my still-vibrating phone and raises a brow. “Looks like someone really wants to talk to you.”

I hesitate, then pick it up. “Excuse me, Colonel. This might be an emergency.”

With a small nod from him, I step into the hallway and answer. “Hello?”

“How’s my gorgeous girl?”

My body melts against the wall as my shoulders loosen, the stress of the morning fading instantly.

“Better now that I’m talking to you.” My cheeks burn. It’s just a phone call, and yet he flusters me so easily. “Why are you calling from an unknown number? Is everything okay?”

“Not really—but we’re okay,” Joaquin sighs. “Listen, I’m going off the grid with Sam. I don’t know when I’ll be able to call or when I’ll be back. That’s all I can say for now.”

I sigh. I really miss him. It’s been weeks since I last saw him. We didn’t even get a proper date night. Instead, we ended up tearing down a wall in the house and pulling out carpet so filthy I don’t even want to guess when it was last cleaned.

“Don’t worry, yo entiendo.” That’s the thing about this job—you never know when you’ll be pulled into a mission or how long you’ll be gone.

“Please try not to worry too much,” he says gently, as if he can already sense my anxiety kicking in. “I’ll call when things clear up.”

I’m proud of him. I really am. But that damn Falcon suit still terrifies me. Some nights, I have to drag him away from working on it and into bed with me. Usually, that’s not an issue, but he’s too damn excited about having his own suit.

“Yo siempre me voy a preocupar por ti, Torres.” I push away the image of him falling from the sky, replacing it with something softer—his smile. The one I catch in the rare quiet of the morning when our schedules align. The one that greeted me at the airport after my deployment. The one he wore when he finally asked me out.

“I have to go,” he says, voice quieter now. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” My throat tightens. “Try to be careful. Please.”

“I’ll try.”

The Following Day, 22:00

“Today wasn’t terrible,” the exhausted group of pilots sighs. Some throw themselves onto the sofa, while others collapse onto the floor.

I could’ve gone easy on them—it’s only their second day with me. But that’s not my style. They’re decent pilots, and with a few tweaks, they’ll graduate as the best.

“Captain Estrada.”

I turn as Captain Sofia Ramos, my best friend, rushes into the common room, her face tight with urgency. “You need to see this.”

My gut clenches. I already know. Even before she grabs the remote and turns on the small TV mounted on the wall, I know.

Joaquin.

The broadcast cuts to footage from Celestial Island, the contested territory between America and Japan. My eyes lock onto the screen, and suddenly, no one else in the room exists. Just me and that damn TV light.

No. No, no, no.

I silently beg any god who will listen as I watch the Falcon in the background, disarming missiles—missiles fired from American fighter pilots.

“Everyone, clear out,” Ramos orders.

The pilots groan but comply, irritated that they’re being kicked out when Captain America is on-screen. They don’t get it. They don’t see what I see.

While everyone else watches Sam, my eyes are locked on the blurry figure in the background, engaging with the other pilots.

“What are they doing?” My voice is barely above a whisper, desperate. Every time Joaquin moves, nausea churns in my stomach.

“All I know is that our guys fired first,” Ramos says, her tone clipped. “It looks like Cap and Falcon are trying to stop them.”

I hear her, but I don’t respond. I can’t. My entire focus is glued to the screen. Paperwork be damned—I have to be here.

Sofia kneels beside me, wrapping a steadying arm around my shoulders. I always worry when Joaquin’s on a mission, not knowing where he is or who he’s fighting. But this—this is my worst nightmare. A front-row seat to him in combat, in the Falcon suit he spent countless hours perfecting. And I can’t do a damn thing.

“What are you doing?” My breath catches as the camera pans to Sam, with Joaquin in the background, flying straight toward two missiles.

“Shoot them down,” I beg the screen, as if he can hear me.

One missile explodes harmlessly in the distance.

The second—

Joaquin flies straight into it as it detonates.

The camera jerks away, refocusing on Sam.

“No—get him back! Move the camera!” I cry, scrambling to my feet, legs unsteady beneath me. “Did you see him fall? Please, tell me you saw him.”

I turn to Sofia, cheeks wet with tears, pleading for an answer neither of us has.

“If he fell, rescue will get to him,” she says firmly, pulling me into her, holding me tight as my body shakes from sobbing. “You and I know how it feels to be on that side. They have only the best there. He will make it home.”

I cling to her words, but fear sinks its claws deep into my chest.

“If I have to pull rank, I will get you on the next flight when he gets back,” she promises.

I nod weakly against her shoulder, unable to say anything past the lump in my throat.

Washington, DC - 14:34

In the end, Sofia didn’t have to pull rank. Colonel Matthews himself got me on a plane and straight to the hospital.

But now, standing outside, I can’t get in.

“Ma’am, I can’t let you in there. Only authorized personnel are allowed.”

I’ve been arguing with this officer for more than ten minutes, but he won’t budge. He won’t even listen.

“I’m his wife! I need to see him,” I shout, my voice cracking. Desperation claws at my throat, but the words don’t seem to reach him.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. You haven’t been cleared to enter the building.”

My hands shake as I pull out my military credentials and shove them toward him. “I work for the Air Force. Isn’t that clearance enough for you?”

His expression doesn’t waver. “I’m sorry, but no.”

I exhale sharply. Behind me, the press stirs, their voices rising, cameras flashing like lightning in a storm. But I can’t be bothered to care.

“You don’t understand—no one will tell me anything. I need to know if he’s okay.” My voice breaks, the hours of agony finally taking their toll. The waiting, the silence, the unanswered calls—it’s been unbearable. Joaquin could be—

No. I can’t let my mind go there.

“Vanessa?”

The familiar voice makes my head snap up.

Sam.

I could’ve kissed his feet right then and there.

“Sam! I need to see him, please.”

He looks like hell. His face is bruised, exhaustion etched deep into his features. His eyes, heavy with worry, probably mirror my own.

Sam doesn’t hesitate. “Officer, thank you for doing your job, but she’s with me.” He reaches for my hand, pulling me gently to his side.

The officer stiffens. “Of course, Captain. I apologize.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Sam shakes his hand before leading me inside.

I pick at my nail beds as a nurse guides us toward a gallery room.

“Are you sure you want to see him like this?” Sam asks, his voice low.

I nod. If I try to speak, I’ll break.

He hesitates. “He’s on the table now. He has burns, and it’s not pretty, sweetheart.”

“I’ve been at war too, Sam,” I say carefully.

Sam exhales, then pushes the door open. I step inside first, my pulse thundering in my ears.

I’ve spent years in the force. I’ve seen injuries—horrific, fatal ones. I’ve suffered them myself.

But nothing—nothing—could have prepared me for this.

Joaquin lies on the operating table, his body covered in burns, his skin raw and blistered. Doctors and nurses move around him in a blur, their voices overlapping as they work tirelessly.

My knees buckle.

Sam catches me before I hit the floor.

“It’s one thing being kept in the dark when he’s away,” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the hum of machines. “But watching it happen on TV was a living nightmare.” My throat tightens. “I can’t take my eyes off him now. I’m scared that if I blink, he’ll be gone.”

Sam is quiet for a long moment. Then, barely above a whisper, he says, “I’m sorry.” His hands are deep in his pockets, his shoulders tense. “I tried. But I failed the kid.”

I shake my head immediately. “Don’t you dare, Sam Wilson.” My voice steadies, sharp with conviction. “This isn’t your fault. I don’t blame you, and neither will he.”

His jaw clenches. “I could’ve done more.”

“You carry the weight of the world, Sam. We do the best we can out there—we try to save everyone. But sometimes, we can’t.” I reach for his arm, squeezing gently. “You saved the day. You both did. And I’m grateful you made it back home.”

He exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “You would’ve beaten my ass if I didn’t bring him back in one piece.”

A small, watery smile tugs at my lips. “If the both of you had died out there, I would’ve brought you back just to kill you myself.”

He huffs a quiet laugh, and I nudge his arm playfully, the moment of levity breaking through the weight in the room.

But when I look back at Joaquin, the lump in my throat returns.

“You two are important to me,” I say softly. “Don’t ever forget that.”

And as I watch the machines breathe for Joaquin, I silently pray he heard me too.

A Few Days Later - 13:11

“Surgery went well. There were some complications, but thankfully, he’s stable now,” I say into the phone, my voice still laced with exhaustion.

“I’m glad, honey.” Sofia’s voice is a balm on the other end. “You had me scared for a second there.”

“Thank you. If it wasn’t for you, I would’ve completely broken down in front of everyone.” I exhale, pressing my fingers to my temple. The memory of that moment—when the weight of everything nearly crushed me—is still fresh. If Sofia hadn’t cleared the room before I shattered entirely, I don’t know what I would’ve done. “Honestly? I blacked out. I don’t even remember getting on the plane. It wasn’t until Sam was walking me toward the hospital that my brain seemed to wake up.”

“Has he woken up yet?”

“No. They put him in an induced coma to help his body heal, but he’s been stirring more lately. It won’t be long now.” My voice softens. Joaquin was there for me when my body endured its own battles—now it’s my turn to return the favor. For now, Sofia and Colonel Matthews will oversee my squadron’s training while I stay behind to help Joaquin recover.

“I have to go, but keep me in the loop, babes.” We exchange quick goodbyes before she hangs up, off to oversee flight maneuvers for the team.

I tug at the sleeves of Joaquin’s favorite football hoodie—the one I’ve been practically living in since the moment I stepped into the hospital. His scent lingers in the fabric, the only comfort I’ve had in days. The only time I’ve left his side has been when Isaiah or Sam dragged me away to eat or take a quick shower.

Even now, my stomach twists in knots. Sam brought me food, a thoughtful gesture, but I can barely stomach more than a few bites of fries before nausea wins again. I wrap the leftovers back into the paper bag and sit on the bench in the hospital’s courtyard, letting the late afternoon breeze wash over me. Sam had forced me outside, insisting I needed fresh air that wasn’t recycled through hospital vents.

Eventually, I make my way back inside, my steps heavy with exhaustion. The press has finally cleared out, leaving the entrance eerily quiet. I offer the nurses a small, tired smile as I head toward Joaquin’s room, already dreading another night on that stiff hospital sofa—the damn thing might as well be made of cardboard.

I reach for the door handle but freeze.

A sound echoes from inside.

Laughter.

My pulse spikes.

I push the door open, my breath catching at the sight before me.

Joaquin. Awake.

He and Sam are laughing about something, the warm, familiar sound hitting me like a punch to the chest.

“Hi, gorgeous,” Joaquin says, his voice rough, tired—alive.

Just like that, the tears I’ve been holding back finally spill over.

His face has more color now, the rawness of his injuries still evident but softened by the warmth of his smile—the same smile I fell in love with all those years ago.

It’s only been a few days. But it feels like a lifetime.

“Come here,” he murmurs, opening his arms.

I don’t hesitate. I slip onto the bed carefully, resting my head against his chest, listening to the steady, reassuring beat of his heart. For the first time in days, the world outside disappears. Neither of us notices when Sam quietly slips out of the room giving us some privacy.

His arms wrap around me, firm despite the exhaustion in his body. A quiet groan slips from him at the movement, and I start to pull back, worried, but he tightens his hold—well, as much as he can.

“Don’t you dare, wife,” Joaquin teases, his thumb brushing my shoulder.

I let out a soft laugh, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “I needed a way to get in and stay here with you.”

“I love the sound of you being my wife, but for now, let’s focus on that fixer-upper you begged me to leave an offer on.”

I roll my eyes. “Begged? Please. I barely had to convince you.”

He chuckles. “The second you mentioned an outdoor kitchen and a barbecue pit, I was done for.”

I grin. “Don’t worry. I’m in no rush.” Because right now, I have everything I need—him, here, safe.

“Mrs. Vanessa Torres has a nice ring to it,” he muses.

I tilt my head, smirking. “Mrs. Vanessa Torres-Estrada sounds even better.”

His lips curl into a slow smile. “You got yourself a deal.”

He lifts my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to my empty ring finger before pulling me in for the first real kiss we’ve shared in weeks.

And for the first time in days, I finally breathe.

#joaquin torres #joaquin torres imagines #joaquin torres x reader #captain america: brave new world #spoilers #the falcon #joaquin torres fic #danny ramirez x reader #danny ramirez fic #danny ramirez imagines #the falcon imagines

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littleprincessbug3 · 2 days ago

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Wow 8 whole years is a long time! Are you a full time little then? 24/7? Any advice to give someone trying to commit to being a little as a lifestyle?

I would consider myself a full-time little ☺️ I still have big girl responsibilities like driving, adulting stuff, and I used to have to go in to work in the past. But even when u have to put your big girl (or big boy) pants on, there are ways to keep that little light shining inside of you! 💖 Which is especially important if that's ur main coping mechanism and identity!

Of course this will look different for every person, and depends a lot on your current living situation (which i know can be super limiting) But really think about how you spend your time each day, and think about how to do those things in ways that better validate your littlespace! And be intentional about what your dream life would look like in the future!

A couple things I can recommend:

You have to get dressed everyday, so add some littlespace flair to your outfits! There are lots of ways to do this in varying levels of discreetness. Build up your wardrobe in a way that makes you feel happy and valid! 🎀

Bringing stuffies or toys wherever you go, in the car, in your pockets, in your bag, etc. It's always comforting to bring a friend along with you 🧸

Finding a way to work or make money that doesn't completely prevent any littleness is important as a lifestyle little, because jobs take up so much time in our lives! When I was stuck in a job, I still used to play games on my break, talk to Daddy, bring cute snacks for lunch, use the quarter toy dispenser on the way out, stuff like that ^_^

Connect with other littles, and surround yourself with like-minded and supportive friends, you're so not alone! 🫶

Incorporate littlespace fun into celebrating every holiday and birthdays! (im super excited for the easter bunny to come!!) 🐰

Using little plates, bowls, cutlery, sippy cups or bottles on the regular 🍼

Make adulting cuter! Instead of a boring to-do list, make a cute chore chart! Use stickers and colorful pens in a planner, and make sure to reward yourself for doing a good job ⭐️

Implementing littlespace into morning and bedtime routines!! 🌙

Practice seeing wonder in the world through your 'littlespace' eyes at anytime! Connect with your happy inner child. Look for opportunities to play, be curious, learn new things, and be excited to be alive because life is fun! ☀️

And maybe this goes without saying, but having a life partner who actively supports/encourages your littlespace (like a caregiver) makes a big difference. It's not necessary of course, and not even something all littles want or need. I'm just saying if you end up with a partner who discourages you, it'd be impossible to be a lifestyle little! Respect your own identity and needs, and don't settle for anyone who doesn't understand you and love you in the ways you need 💖 (I just feel so bad for people stuck in vanilla relationships and having to be closeted about littlespace and diapers, better if you can avoid that situation before it happens!)

just brainstorming some stuff here, but I hope it was helpful!! I'm happy to elaborate on these ideas and give more examples if anyone’s interested ^_^

thx for the question, live your dream and keep on doing what makes you happy, life is what you make of it!! 🐞 xoxo

#ab/dl #ab/dl lifestyle #ab/dl little #ageplayer #littlespacecommunity #cg/l lifestyle

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theotherrookie · 5 hours ago

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"Yeah, we aren't going up against a bunch of annoying larpers, you can do with something more practical." Rook said, "And I guess that'll be three of us, even if mum doesn't use armor anymore."

"Still, we should keep some distance from Rook unless we want to get toasted." Erica replied, before turning to Simon, "Send the pics. We can go check if it's a good path."

Sending in a small group first to check on the area would be wise. Cameras were good and all, but they had blind spots too.

Lucien smiled at Russell, then stood up, "Well, I better get started on that. I have to make a few calls, if you don't mind."

It wasn't the best of time to leave right in the middle of their meeting, but time was of the essence and his success would ultimately benefit them all. Besides, it wasn't as if they weren't going to go over this again. All they had so far were part of a grocery list and a doodle of a round pigeon.

"Our drones are rather resilient, it would take more than a harsh landing to damage it beyond repair. I'll provide the training software along with all the necessary equipment." Willow replied, "Our products aren't particularly demanding, but I would like to minimize the chances of failure. I will require some more precise coordinates than what I can extrapolate from this call to send what you will need."

Seeing how much Simon seemed to mind his privacy, it was only fair to give a warning before materializing stuff in his home.

"Perhaps, once this is over we can schedule a movie night." Lucien replied.

That wasn't exactly what Rook had in mind, but she was still glad to hear her concerns were being taken seriously.

"Well, we can see about getting you some chainmail maybe. Mark probably has something ready lying around already." Rook replied with a small grin, "Smithing lets him unload some energy. Also, it's oddly fitting."

"Become birb!" Erica joked.

"Yes. And let's try not to turn this into an escort mission, guys. I don't want to do this to you." Rook added.

Lucien smiled a bit, "I could use some luck too. I'll see to that myself."

He could at least treat it as an accessory and pick a decoration for Lewis with the same care he did for his own outfits. Presentation is key, after all.

"It'll be okay! We've got a billion of those!" Erica reassured, turning back to take note of the equipment they needed to gather.

"They aren’t actually that many, but Carthage is one of the world's largest drone manufacturers." Willow explained, "We have a production line inside the facility. The drone will be easily replaced in case of damage, as long as you can familiarize yourself with the controls beforehand."

"Would it be asking too much for one of your security drones?" Rook asked.

"While I would love to have one of those shoot down Five, it wouldn't be practical." Willow replied, "There's simply too many of us and friendly fire would essentially be a given with the addition of a jumping boost that you won't have time to practice sufficiently."

Lucien hummed quietly as he kept scrolling on his phone, "It's a cute little blob thing."

He still had questions, but it'd have to do for now.

#pushspacetocontinue #scholar of flames - Rook #cyber core - Willow #hunter hunter - Lucien #elf in training - Erica

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mxtantrights · 1 day ago

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mob!bucky knows you know

It wasn't a ceremony. It wasn't much of anything. Apparently Sam got ordained and that meant he was legally able to marry you and Bucky. Which, you had no clue was happening today.

But that was only one surprises in store for you.

When you got up to answer your door, there was Steve. He grumbled something about your presence being requested at Bucky's estate. His estate which you haven't been to ever--because the whole point of a secret relationship was to keep a secret.

A trist on an estate is hardly a secret.

So you sat passenger side in Steve's Mustang. Neither of you said a word to each other on the ride up there. You kind of wanted to talk to Steve but you knew he was still rightfully holding a bit of a grudge towards you.

It took a very long hour and third minutes to get to the estate.

As soon as you stepped out of the car, you were rushed inside. Steve told you that Bucky was waiting of you but you didn't know what he really meant until you saw him, and all of it.

There were flower petals on the ground, white ones. There was no furniture. Except for a single altar, which he stood at. Sam stood to his right.

"We're doing this now?" you asked.

"Now or never, sweetheart." Bucky said.

You looked down at your clothes. Silently you cursed Steve for not letting you bring something with you to change into. But you stopped yourself right then and there. This wasn't a marriage of love, it was out of necessity. It was a deal.

You walked on over the petals and joined Sam and Bucky.

"Took you both a long time, but here we are. I'm not gonna drag this because we've got a busy schedule today." Sam snickered.

"Thanks." Bucky muttered.

Quickly you looked him over once. He looked a bit--practiced, stone cold. You thought to yourself that was understandable. Based on what Steve told you about how he took the break up.

You were willing to bet that was only a part of it. Bucky never really shared that much about his feelings. Even when you were together. You knew he cared for you deeply with his actions. But he never said it.

To make yourself feel better you always thought you never needed him to say it.

As you stood across from him, hands at your sides as Sam started to speak again, you regretted it. You regretted not ever asking how he felt about you.

Because you know for sure that you were in love with Bucky Barnes.

And a part of you still is.

Bucky opens the basement door. And you find the one man you wouldn't want to see any other day. But today is different because you do actually want to see him.

Brock Rumlow is tied to a chair and gagged. You can't help the sigh of relief that comes out of you. He looks at you with wide eyes and starts trying to get out of his restraints.

"You're not gonna get out of that. The kid, Peter, he's got a knack for tying knots. We call him The Spider." Bucky says.

You walk closer into the room. Seeing Brock so helpless gives you a bit of a rush. A rush that a couple of years ago you would have found repulsive. But knowing what you know about Brock now, you find it satisfying.

With a smirk, you lean in close to him.

"You're delusional if you ever thought I would marry you." you speak.

Brock grunts and bangs his chair against the floor.

"And trying to trick my father into it, shows how much of a snake you are." you continue.

"Do you want me to kill him?" Bucky asks.

There it is. The million dollar question. He can't marry you anymore. He can't blackmail your father anymore. Not with you married to Bucky.

You look into Brock's eyes. It's not like you know him well. You've barely talked to the man. And when he's spoken to you, you've always felt that he was more so sizing you up and trying you on.

But looking at him now, you can see it. Fear. Fear is laced into his pupils. He's trying not so show it but it's hard to hide. His breathing is erratic and he won't stop budging against the ropes around his arms and legs.

"Not yet."

#Bucky Barnes x reader #marvel x reader #marvel #bucky barnes #mob!bucky #bucky barnes x black!reader

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bouncypickle · 9 hours ago

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here's a Roach drabble AU where he joins tf 141

Cockroaches are basically indestructible. They can eat anything, live through some serious radiation, and even survive getting their heads chopped off! Cockroaches are cool even if some people think they’re pests.

Gary doesn’t mind being Roach. His team gave him that moniker after surviving a grenade being thrown at his helmet. It bounced off and blew up the building he was in which then collapsed on top of him. Gary came crawling out of the rubble like a cockroach, alive and unharmed. He’d had a few close calls before so the guys in his squad coined him Roach–an indestructible little fucker, they’d said.

Sometimes, Gary wonders if that’s the only reason his squad decided on that name. Gary is the perpetual weird one, the freak, the guy who always says too much. So he feels like a pest sometimes too.

Ever since he was a kid, Gary has learned to stay quiet and keep to himself. He wears his helmet and balaclava and goggles–to keep his expressive face hidden–and lets himself be a mystery to his squadmates. They don’t ever care about him enough to ask Gary about himself though. So maybe Gary is less of a mystery and more of a background character.

It doesn’t matter anyway because Gary gets passed from team to team, completing missions with one team only to be transferred to a different team in need of more bodies. Gary is basically target practice for the enemy, an extra hand to hold a gun, another nameless G.I. Joe to be killed for his country.

Then Gary is transferred to Task Force 141 to serve under Captain John Price. The squad he’s to join is small with a focus on infiltration. Not usually Gary’s type of assignment. More often than not, Gary is put in front of a bunch of people with guns and told to shoot. This new team might be a refreshing change, honestly.

Gary is surprised to be greeted upon landing on the new base. His welcoming party actually looks welcoming. Usually, Gary is greeted by a grunt or two who bitterly show him the mess, the dorms, the gym and then leave him alone. This evening, two men who are clearly not recruits are waiting for him.

Gary has to do a double take, making sure some admiral isn’t landing instead of him. But the men approach and greet him with kindness.

“Sergeant Gary Sanderson, welcome. I’m Sergeant Kyle Garrick but you can call me Gaz.”

Gaz extends a hand in greeting and Gary shakes it eagerly. Then the other man reaches out and Gary shakes his hand too.

“Aye, welcome. Yer a bit shorter than I was expecting. Ghost made ya sound like a bleedin’ tank but that's alright. We short kings stick together, aye? Name's John MacTavish, call sign Soap.”

Gary has no idea what Soap is talking about but he nods anyway. Better to just agree than ask all the annoying questions on his mind. Like: Who is Ghost? Why are you two greeting me instead of some recruit? Don't you know to call me Roach? Do you like bugs?

Gary frowns at himself under his balaclava. Of course they don't like bugs; no one in their right mind likes bugs.

“Ghost really did talk you up though, mate. We're expecting to see some moves out of you.”

Gary just nods again.

Soap folds his arms, frowning, “Not much of a talker are ye? No wonder Ghost likes ye so much.”

Gaz elbows Soap playfully, “Jealousy is a bad look on you, mate.”

“Roach,” Gary pipes in, unsure whether or not he should interrupt but wanting to get his introduction out of the way, “That's what everyone calls me.”

“Cause of yer helmet?” Soap asks, flicking one of the radio antennas on Gary's helmet.

Gary ducks away from the teasing a bit.

“I'm an indestructible little fucker.”

The other two men burst out laughing. Gary hopes they're laughing with him, not at him. Well, he's not laughing. Anyway, he tries not to read into it too much. People laugh all the time, Gary doesn't always have to get the joke.

“Oh, Simon was right about you,” Soap tells him and suddenly Gary knows who Ghost is.

Only Gary didn't know him as Ghost, he knew him as Simon Riley. Si, actually. Si was his only friend back in the day. He liked Gary, actually listened when he talked about annoying shit like bugs.

What do you call an anxious bug?

A nervous tick.

Si used to make jokes like that over the radio. Then one day Si went MIA and Gary was transferred to another squad and he never heard from or about the man again. He knows this Ghost must be Simon Riley because no one else is weird enough to actually enjoy Gary's company.

#i just think roach is neat #weird little bug man #/pos #fanfiction #call of duty #cod modern warfare #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #gary roach sanderson #john soap mactavish #roach cod #roach call of duty #k thanks bye

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isuckatwritingsobenice · 22 hours ago

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𝐒𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐑𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

Synopsis: Split Rivers Sweetheart, a sweet little Junior who’s the lead singer of the schools show choir. The only issue is a certain head cheerleader has made it her life’s mission to disband your club with her family’s money. Unfortunately for her, you seem to have more support than you realize, maybe even from the golden boy himself. Wally Clark.

Notes: Modern AU! All characters are alive! Mentions of Alcohol, Drugs, partying! Reader and all characters are around 17-18 ish! Most of my inspo for this was from Glee since I’m rewatching the show. 80’s References & so on.

Masterlist // Chapter Four

The air in the show choir room was thick with tension. What started as an ambitious idea was quickly becoming a logistical nightmare. The cheerleaders stood on one side of the room, arms crossed, ponytails bouncing whenever they rolled their eyes. The show choir members stood on the other, looking just as unimpressed.

At the center of it all stood Claire Zolinski, clipboard in hand, her perfectly manicured nails tapping impatiently against the surface. Across from her, Charley had their arms crossed, gaze sharp. Maddie was beside them, shifting her weight like she was physically holding back the urge to say something snarky.

“Alright,” Claire exhaled, looking around at the divided room. “We’re running out of time. We need to at least get through Espresso before practice is over.”

Nicole clapped her hands together, trying to cut through the tension with enthusiasm. “It’s a high-energy song! If we nail the timing, it’s gonna look amazing!”

“It would help if the choreography actually made sense,” Charley shot back.

Claire stiffened. “It does make sense. You just don’t know how to keep up.”

Charley scoffed. “Right, because we definitely spend our time throwing people in the air for fun.”

“You don’t spend your time dancing, that’s for sure.”

“Okay, enough,” you interrupted, stepping forward before the argument could spiral further. “Can we at least try to get through this? Fighting isn’t gonna magically make the routine better.

Claire and Charley didn’t break eye contact for a moment longer before Claire finally sighed and looked away. “Fine.”

Maddie muttered something under her breath, but you ignored it, turning to Yuri, who was adjusting the mic stand. “Let’s start from the top.”

Simon cracked his knuckles, looking more excited for the dancing than the actual singing. “Let’s do this.”

Dawn hit play on the speaker, and the bass from Espresso filled the room. Immediately, everyone scrambled into position.

The first few beats started strong—Simon and Nicole nailed the footwork, and Yuri’s vocals were clean and controlled. But it didn’t take long for things to start falling apart. The cheerleaders weren’t in sync with the choir members. The formations were off. Some of the show choir kids were getting tripped up by the fast transitions.

By the time the first chorus hit, Claire threw her hands up in frustration.

“Stop, stop, stop!” she yelled, reaching over to pause the music. “This isn’t working!”

“Oh really?” Maddie shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I couldn’t tell.”

Claire turned to her sharply. “You could at least try instead of rolling your eyes every five seconds.”

“I am trying. It’s just hard to take this seriously when it’s obvious you don’t actually care about us being part of this. You just need warm bodies to fill your routine.”

Claire’s jaw clenched, and for the first time, something flickered in her expression—guilt, maybe? But it was gone just as fast. “I do care. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have come to you in the first place.”

Maddie crossed her arms. “Yeah, well, you sure have a funny way of showing it.”

Before things could spiral again, Yuri let out a sharp sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Enough. If we’re going to make this work, we need to simplify things where we can.” He turned to you, eyes sharp with decision. “You’re singing all the songs.”

You blinked. “Wait, what?”

“It’ll be cleaner if we don’t switch vocalists mid-performance. It gives the routine consistency, and let’s be real, you have the strongest voice for these songs.” Yuri’s tone was firm, leaving no room for argument.

Janet nodded in agreement. “It makes sense. Less moving around for us, and the focus stays on the performance itself instead of worrying about transitions.”

Claire, for once, didn’t argue, just crossed her arms and sighed. “Fine by me. As long as we can actually get through the choreography.”

You hesitated for a moment, but seeing everyone waiting for your answer, you finally nodded. “Alright. I’ll do it.”

“Good,” Yuri said. “Now, let’s actually run this thing properly.”

The two groups exchanged glances, tension still thick in the air, but eventually, they all grumbled in agreement.

“Alright,” Claire said, rolling back her shoulders. “From the top.”

The music started again. And this time, despite the mistakes, despite the hesitations, despite the obvious divide in the room—something clicked.

It still wasn’t perfect, but for the first time, it actually felt like they might be able to pull this off.

By the time practice was over, the tension had eased—but just barely. The cheerleaders and the show choir weren’t exactly friends, but at least they weren’t actively trying to strangle each other anymore. Progress.

As everyone started packing up, Nicole clapped her hands together. “So, I talked to the theater department, and they’re in.”

Yuri raised an eyebrow. “In for what?”

“The setup for the halftime show. You know how they’re the fastest at putting sets together? They’ll be responsible for whatever staging we have on the field.”

Janet grinned. “That actually makes this a lot easier. They work fast, and they’ll make sure everything doesn’t fall apart mid-performance.”

Claire, still slightly stiff from earlier arguments, nodded. “Fine. But tell them not to overdo it. We don’t need a Broadway production, just something functional.”

Nicole smirked. “Oh, don’t worry. They’re already planning something over-the-top. You know how they are.”

Claire groaned, rubbing her temples, but didn’t argue.

“Alright,” Yuri sighed. “We’ll meet up tomorrow to go over everything again. Let’s hope it actually looks like a halftime show by then.”

With that, practice wrapped up, and everyone filed out—some leaving in pairs, others in quiet groups, all exhausted but determined.

The sun hung low in the sky, streaking the field with gold as the football team pushed through their drills. The air was thick with sweat, the sharp scent of churned-up grass, and the distant echo of cleats slamming against turf.

But none of that mattered to Wally Clark.

Not when the coach was in his face, practically spitting as he yelled.

“Pick it up, Clark! You’re not running plays like you mean them! You want a championship or not?”

Wally gritted his teeth, helmet tucked under his arm, sweat dripping down the back of his neck. “Yes, Coach.”

“Then act like it! You’re the best we got! You don’t bring your A-game, we don’t win. And I don’t lose!”

The words sank deep into Wally’s chest, pressing against the already suffocating weight of expectations. He knew all of this. He didn’t need to hear it again.

But before the frustration could fester, Coach blew the whistle. “Five-minute break! Hydrate!”

The players scattered, some jogging to the sidelines for water, others flopping onto the grass with exhausted groans. Wally exhaled hard, rolling his shoulders, trying to shake off the stress.

That was when the whistles started.

A couple of his teammates nudged each other, smirking as they tilted their chins toward the field entrance. “Well, hello, ladies.”

Wally didn’t even glance up. He’d seen the cheerleaders walk onto the field a million times before. It wasn’t exactly a life-changing event.

But then—

The music started.

At first, it was just a heavy beat pulsing through the speakers. But then, a voice cut through the field.

Clear. Strong. Captivating.

Wally frowned, finally looking up as he pulled his helmet off.

The cheerleaders were moving into formation, rehearsing their halftime routine. The show choir had set up near them, their small group arranged with microphones, preparing to run through the setlist. But Wally barely registered any of that.

Because he was focused on her.

Or at least, he was trying to.

He couldn’t see her—she was too far, blocked by some of the other performers—but he could hear her. And that was enough to make something inside him pause.

She sounded good.

Not just decent, not just okay. Really, really good. Like she belonged on a stage bigger than a high school football field.

And it bothered him.

Because he wasn’t expecting it.

His feet moved before he could stop himself, stepping toward the edge of the field, trying to angle himself for a better look. Just as he was about to get a clear view—

“Clark!”

Coach’s bark snapped him out of it, and he turned sharply, setting his jaw.

“Get over here! We’re going over plays!”

Wally clenched his helmet in one hand, giving the field one last glance. He still couldn’t see her.

But the voice stayed with him.

Even as he jogged back to his teammates, even as the coach started barking orders again—he could still hear her.

And for the first time in a long time, Wally Clark found something slipping through the cracks of football, pressure, and expectations.

Curiosity.

Soft shades of pink and baby blue painted the walls, the warm glow of fairy lights strung along the white curtains casting gentle shadows. Jewelry clinked softly against the edges of a porcelain tray on her vanity, catching the dim light like scattered stars. The room smelled faintly of vanilla and fresh linen, an otherwise safe and dreamy space—if not for the muffled chaos drifting up from downstairs.

The shouting had started almost twenty minutes ago.

At first, you tried to ignore it. Pretended it was just another disagreement, a raised voice or two before everything settled down. But then something shattered.

Your stomach twisted.

You paced the length of you room, arms crossed tightly over your chest, fingers gripping the hem of your shirt. You didn’t know what to do. Could you do anything? If you went downstairs, you might make it worse. If you stayed put, you’d have to keep listening, the weight of every sharp word digging under your skin.

The sound of something else breaking made you flinch.

Your hands shook as you reached for your phone, quickly scrolling to Dawn’s contact. You pressed the call button and brought the phone to your ear, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Pick up. Please pick up.”

The line rang once. Twice.

Straight to voicemail.

You exhaled sharply, throat tight. Of course. It’s late. She’s probably asleep.

The voices downstairs swelled again, and you quickly set your phone aside, not trusting your grip. Instead, you crawled onto your bed, curling up against the plush comforter.

It was all you could do.

Just wait.

Wait for it to stop.

Wait for the voices to drop back down into silence, for the tension to dissolve into an uneasy stillness.

Eventually, exhaustion won out.

Even with the distant echoes of anger in the air, even with the weight pressing heavy on your chest—your eyelids grew heavier. Your body gave in.

And as you slipped into sleep, the last thing you heard was the sound of someone walking away downstairs.

The steady rhythm of a basketball hitting the wall filled the room, punctuated by the occasional swish as it landed perfectly in the small hoop hanging over his door. Wally leaned back against his pillows, tossing the ball absentmindedly, watching it spin in the air before catching it again.

His phone buzzed on his nightstand.

He ignored it.

Another buzz. Then another.

Probably the guys in the group chat talking about practice, or the game on Friday, or something else football-related. He just didn’t care right now. He needed a break. A second to breathe without thinking about running plays, winning streaks, or his coach drilling it into his head that he was the key to a championship.

He exhaled through his nose, tossing the ball a little harder.

His mind wandered back to practice, to the way his coach got on his case about picking up the pace. It wasn’t like he was slacking off, but lately, it felt like no matter how much he gave, it wasn’t enough. The pressure was there, constant, sitting heavy on his shoulders.

His grip tightened around the ball.

Then—his thoughts shifted.

To her voice.

The rehearsal.

That halftime thing the choir was doing with the cheerleaders. He hadn’t planned on paying attention, but he did. More than he wanted to admit.

The sound of her voice had cut through the noise of practice, weaving through the air in a way that made him stop. He hadn’t even seen her—just heard her, like something drawing him in before he could think twice about it.

And now he was wondering.

Who the hell was that?

His phone buzzed again.

He let the ball drop into his lap and ran a hand down his face, staring up at the ceiling, still hearing the lingering melody in his head.

And for the first time all night, it wasn’t football running circles in his brain.

It was her.

Whoever she was.

#school spirits yuri #school spirits janet #school spirits xavier #school spirits charley #school spirits maddie #school spirits wally #school spirits rhonda #school spirits x reader #school spirits #wally clark x reader #wally clark #milo manheim x reader #milo manheim fanfiction

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moons-and-mobility-aids · 1 day ago

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Smut Challenge 2025, Fic One: Squirting with Sirius

Pairings: Sirius Black x reader Summary: Sirius is determined to make you squirt. Tags: fem!reader, reader has chronic pain, smut, oral sex (F receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, implied soft dom!Sirius, established relationship, Sirius being an attentive lover Main Masterlist | Smut Challenge 2025 Masterlist

The room is a cocoon of warmth, the flickering candlelight casting soft shadows that dance across the bed where you lie, exhaustion settling deep in your bones despite the anticipation that hums beneath it. Your muscles ache, the familiar stiffness clinging to you like an unwelcome guest, but tonight, Sirius is here, and he always makes it better.

He looms above you, his dark hair falling around your vision like a curtain. His eyes are intent, the corners crinkling slightly as he focuses on the task at hand. There's always been something captivating about Sirius when he's in this state, head bent over some intricate piece of magic, but tonight, his concentration is solely on you.

"Relax for me, love," he murmurs, the rough timbre of his voice sending shivers down your spine despite the heat radiating from his touch. His hands move with purpose, tracing the contours of your body with a familiarity born of years together.

He knows the spots that seize up with pain, the places where the ache lingers long after the day is done. His fingers press with practiced care, working into the knots that have burrowed deep, a silent understanding passing between you as he soothes the tension locked within your body. It's not just stress, it's pain, constant and unrelenting, but Sirius always handles you like he knows exactly what you need.

His lips trail after his fingers, a warm path that lingers on your skin. Each press of his mouth is deliberate, unhurried, igniting a slow burn that stirs you beneath him. He pauses at the hollow of your throat, teeth grazing delicately before the soothing sweep of his tongue.

A soft sigh escapes you as Sirius' hands knead at your hips, smoothing away the tension of the day. His touch is patient and reverent, never rushing, even as heat pools low in your belly. He loves this part--the watching, the waiting, seeing you unravel and respond to his ministrations before he's barely even begun.

Sirius' lips continue their journey, trailing light kisses across your abdomen, before he lifts his head to look at you. His eyes are dark, but there's a smug grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as he catches your hand flexing in the sheets.

"That feel good, sweetheart?" he murmurs, his voice a low vibration against your skin.

You nod, breathless, and he chuckles, the sound sending a warm shiver down your spine. He places another reverent kiss just below your belly button before trailing lower still.

"You've been hurting today," Sirius murmurs, his fingertips tracing slow, deliberate patterns along your thighs. "I can feel it in you--the way you hold yourself, the way your hands keep shaking. Let me take care of you, love."

His words are sincere, solidifying the trust between you despite the building tension in the air. He's not just here to make you feel good--he wants to take care of you, and the realization brings a pang of pleasure that's more than just physical.

The first touch of his lips to the inside of your thighs is feather-light, almost non-existent. But you feel it, a jolt of electricity that promises of what's to come. Your heart races as he plants soft kisses on your sensitive skin, moving ever so slowly upward. Each one sends a wave of anticipation crashing through you, leaving you breathless and hungry for more.

When you squirm, he places a large hand on your hip, steadying you. The heat of his palm seeps through the thin fabric of your panties, branding you with his desire.

"Easy there," he says, voice deep and husky with arousal. "We're just getting started."

And then, his mouth is on you. The first sweep of his tongue is slow, deliberate -- a promise fulfilled. It sends a shock of pleasure through you, so intense that your back arches off the bed. He groans, the vibration against your core sending another wave of desire coursing through your veins.

His tongue moves again, tracing a path that leaves you trembling. Your fingers clutch at the bed sheets, drawing them up in tight fists. His hands grip your thighs with a firmness that is both commanding and reassuring, holding you open to him as he continues his exploration--a dance of patience and urgency that has your nerves alight with anticipation.

"God, you taste incredible," Sirius murmurs against the heat of your core, the vibration of his words sending shivers up your spine.

He uses his tongue to part you further, finding a rhythm that sends waves of pleasure coursing through your veins. The flat of it glides over your sensitive flesh, while the tip teases just inside, coaxing more of those sweet sounds from your lips. His mouth closes around your clit, sucking gently at first, then with an intensity that has your back arching off the bed. The pressure builds, a crescendo of sensation that threatens to sweep you away.

You can't contain the sounds that escape you, nor the way your hips buck up to meet his mouth, seeking more of the exquisite pleasure he's offering. Every stroke of his tongue is a promise, every breath he takes a testament to the desire that burns between you.

"Sirius," you moan, your fingers tangling in the dark locks of his hair. The sound he makes against you vibrates through every nerve, making your muscles clench around nothing.

The sensation is almost too much, circling tighter and tighter until you're straining against it, aching for release. You can feel the familiar pressure building, but there's something holding you back, some knot inside you that won't untie, no matter how much you tug at it.

He understands without needing an explanation. Of course, he does.

"Are you going to come for me already, love?" Sirius teases, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine. You want to answer, to tell him how close you are, but the words catch in your throat when his lips return to their task, relentless and unyielding.

His tongue presses harder, moving in slow, deliberate circles that have you gasping for breath. Your legs begin to quiver, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until it feels like you might snap. He groans against you, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure coursing through you, pushing you closer to the edge.

Your body tenses, pleasure warring with the dull ache that never quite leaves you. But Sirius knows how to tip the balance, how to chase away the discomfort until all that's left is sensation--pure, electrifying, and all-consuming. When the tension finally snaps, it's not just pleasure that floods through you, but relief, leaving you gasping, shaking, feeling lighter than you have in days. The world narrows down to this one moment, this one sensation, and you cry out, clutching at the sheets beneath you.

Sirius doesn't stop, his movements only slowing as you twitch from overstimulation. His eyes are dark with desire as he watches you come undone, his fingers still gently stroking your trembling thighs, keeping you grounded as the aftershocks ripple through you.

He pulls back, with your taste still on his lips. His eyes, usually so teasing, now are darkened by desire. He gives you a slow, appreciative smile that doesn't quite reach those stormy eyes--eyes that speak of a hunger not yet sated.

"Perfect," he murmurs, punctuating the word with a soft kiss to the inside of your knee. His voice is barely above a whisper, yet it's full of conviction--a blend of admiration and playful defiance that dares you to believe otherwise.

You shiver, the aftershocks of your climax still dancing along your nerves. It's overwhelming, the intensity of such pleasure, but Sirius has always been tenacious when pursuing something--or someone--he desires. And tonight, there's a determination in his gaze that leaves you both breathless and curious about what might come next.

His fingers trace back down your body, slipping between your thighs. They find the slickness he's caused and he lets out a low growl of appreciation. "So wet for me," he murmurs, his touch driving you to the brink of insanity as he explores your folds.

"Look at you," he breathes, meeting your gaze with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. His fingers move expertly, finding all the right places that make your breath hitch. "So eager… so responsive."

A whimper escapes your lips as your body arches up into his touch, seeking more. Your thighs tremble as he circles your entrance, teasing you with the promise of what could come next. The sensation is electric, sending sparks of pleasure through every nerve ending.

Sirius' lips press lightly against the inside of your thigh, the coolness of his breath contrasting with the heat of your skin. Goosebumps rise in response, a shiver running through you despite the warmth. "One more," he murmurs, so softly that you almost miss it over the thunderous pounding of your heart. "I want another orgasm from you before I make you squirt for me, love."

Your chest heaves as you suck in a ragged breath, anticipation mingling with the remnants of your climax. His fingers trace a path along your folds, teasingly slow, before two slip inside you. They curl upwards, finding that sweet spot that has your back arching and a strangled moan escaping your throat.

His mouth latches onto your clit again, tongue flicking over the sensitive nub. The sensation is overwhelming, yet not enough, a paradox that makes your mind feel foggy with pleasure. Your hands scrabble at the sheets, desperate for something to hold onto as Sirius expertly works you towards another peak.

"Si-Sirius," you gasp, your thighs quiver, almost closing around his head as he continues his relentless ministrations. The pleasure is too much, too sudden, but he refuses to stop.

"You can take it." His voice is muffled against you, a hint of amusement threading through the seriousness. "Trust me to know what you need. Let me make you feel good."

His promise hangs heavy in the air, a guarantee that wraps around you, holding you together and breaking you down all at once. His fingers curl inside you, finding that sweet spot that makes stars burst behind your closed eyelids. At the same time, his tongue presses into your clit--soft yet unyielding--and the world narrows down to the overwhelming sensation coursing through you.

The pressure builds rapidly, a tempest gaining force within you. Your body, already exhausted from the previous climax, teeters on the precipice, kept there by the surety of Sirius' touch and the focused attention he bestows upon your pleasure. A low moan escapes him, vibrating against your sensitive flesh and sending shivers up your spine. His fingers move with purpose, determined to draw out yet another release from your overtaxed nerves.

A keening cry catches in your throat as your body tenses, fingers tightening in his hair. The world narrows down to this single point of pleasure, all-consuming and overwhelming. Then it crashes over you, a tidal wave that leaves you breathless and shaking, your thighs quaking around his head. You can do nothing but ride the wave, surrendering to the onslaught as his name spills from your lips in a broken plea.

But Sirius does not let up, his fingers slowing their rhythm but refusing to cease altogether. His tongue continues its dance over your hypersensitive clit, coaxing out every last tremor from your quivering form. A whimper of protest--or is it a plea for more?--escapes you, your body too spent to resist the aftershocks coursing through it.

When your breathing finally starts to calm, the ache in your limbs a dull hum beneath the lingering pleasure, Sirius pulls back just enough to look at you. His face is flushed, eyes dark and hooded, but his expression softens the moment he takes you in--body trembling, exhaustion settling in deep. Without a word, he shifts, his hands ghosting over your hips, your legs, soothing the muscles he knows must be screaming from strain. It's not just about pleasure with Sirius; it's about you.

"That's two," he murmurs, sounding far too pleased with himself. Then, with a wicked grin, he presses a kiss to your inner thigh before moving lower, spreading you open further. "Now," his voice is a low rumble, his breath fanning over your wet and sensitive flesh, "let's see how many more times I can make you soak these sheets for me."

His mouth quirks upward against your thigh, and his gaze is triumphant when it meets yours, finding the glazed look of shock and pleasure that he knew would be there. He knows you, every curving line of your body, every breathy gasp, every secret shiver of delight. He also knows that you can do this, for him, with him. You've done it before.

The first time was an accident, really. He'd been down here, just like now, his fingers moving in those same, sinful patterns, his mouth hot and persistent, and then… then you'd come apart so completely that you nearly sobbed with it, drenching his hand, the sheets, even a good portion of his chest. You'd been mortified, hiding your face behind your hands while your body continued to jerk and twitch uncontrollably. But Sirius? His eyes had lit up as though you'd just handed him the secret to life itself.

Ever since, it's been a mission.

And now, as he gazes at you with those determined eyes, his cheeks flushed from the heat of desire and the exertion of his movements, his pupils dilated as if to capture every detail of your euphoria, it's clear he won't stop until he achieves it.

"Do you remember that first time?" he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin, igniting goosebumps along your inner thigh. His fingers continue their slow, torturous dance inside you, coaxing out every last shudder of pleasure. "How you soaked me through? I almost lost control then."

A soft whimper escapes your lips, your body still humming with sensitivity as your hips buck involuntarily. There's no escaping his touch, nor do you want to. He presses his palm flat against your lower belly, just above where his fingers are buried deep within you. The pressure is just enough to add a delicious edge to the pleasure radiating from your core.

"I thought about it for days," Sirius confesses, his voice a low rumble against your skin as his mouth hovers just out of reach from where you want him most. "The way you tightened around me… how you reacted."

A blush creeps up your neck at his words, but it's overshadowed by a sense of anticipation that makes your heart pound in your chest. You can feel Sirius watching you, taking in every tremor and gasp that escapes you, and the knowledge only fuels your desire.

"Bet I can make it happen again," he murmurs, sounding more like a promise than a mere speculation. His confidence is both alarming and alluring, leaving you breathless with anticipation. "Bet I can make you come undone completely this time. Want to see you let go for me, love."

His movements are swift, practiced. His mouth is back on you in an instant, tongue tracing circles around your clit that start slow and deliberate, but soon quicken to match the rhythm of his fingers working inside of you. You gasp, feeling your body respond despite the aftershocks still reverberating through your muscles.

The sound you make is enough to encourage him further. Sirius hums against you, a low vibration that sends waves of pleasure rippling across your sensitive flesh. His hands are everywhere, exploring every inch of you, learning the contours of your body as if committing them to memory. He seems to take note of every shiver, every hitched breath, every involuntary twitch that betrays your mounting desire.

"That's it," he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper as he pulls away just enough for the words to brush against your clit, making you squirm. "Don't hold back. Just let go for me."

Your breathing becomes ragged, punctuating the silence of the room with sharp intakes and shaky exhales. The tension coiling within you grows tighter, more demanding, an unspoken plea for release. Sirius knows--he can feel it in the way your body tenses beneath his touch, in the subtle tremors that run down your thighs, in the slight upward tilt of your hips even though you're trying to stay still.

"Fuck, Sirius, I..."

"Shh, love, let it happen," he murmurs against your skin, but the words are edged with a tangible urgency, a hunger that matches the wild rhythm of his fingers and tongue. Each stroke is more confident, more daring than the last, coaxing the tension in you to coil tighter, tighter still.

And then, Sirius presses a firm hand to your lower stomach, anchoring you to the bed, to this moment. His mouth descends to where you need him most, focusing on that sweet, sensitive nub of nerves that sends shockwaves through your entire being--and--

The world fractures.

It hits you then, all at once, a tidal wave of pleasure that leaves you breathless and shaking. Your release drenches Sirius's hand, his mouth, the sheets beneath you. You cry out, your body convulsing, bucking against his mouth. Your vision goes white, all other sensations replaced by this one overwhelming sensation, this shattering release.

"Sirius," you gasp, your voice barely audible, lost in the roar of your own pleasure.

He moans deeply, not stopping, his tongue still flicking over your sensitive nub, his fingers still curling inside of you. It's an unending cycle of pleasure, a cascade of sensations that leave you breathless and writhing beneath him. He seems insatiable, relentless in his pursuit of your pleasure, and it only makes the waves crash harder, stronger, pulling you under.

"Very good," he murmurs against the soft skin of your thighs, his lips brushing lightly over the sensitive flesh. "Just like that." His voice is a low rumble, the sound vibrating through you, adding to the sensations already threatening to consume you.

And finally, when he pulls away, letting you collapse onto the soaked sheets, you're a trembling mess, and not just from pleasure. Your body is spent, the exhaustion seeping into every muscle, the dull ache creeping back now that the haze of release is fading. Sirius sees it, the way your limbs twitch not just from sensitivity but from deep-seated pain, the way your breath hitches not just from bliss but from the struggle to recover. He shifts immediately, pressing slow, grounding kisses to your stomach, your hips, your thighs, his hands smoothing over your skin in quiet reassurance.

"You're… incredible," Sirius whispers, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your thigh, but there's something softer in his touch now. He knows what comes next. The way your body protests after too much strain, the way the deep ache settles back into your joints once the endorphins start to fade. He doesn't rush you--he never does. Instead, his hands drift lower, massaging the muscles he knows are screaming, working gentle circles into the stiffness left behind.

You can feel his gaze on you, heavy and warm, but you can't bring yourself to open your eyes just yet. The world seems to spin around you, and for a moment, you simply surrender to the sensation, letting it wash over you in waves.

When you finally manage to crack open your eyes, the sight that greets you makes your heart stutter. Sirius is watching you, his expression unreadable, his grey eyes dark with something that looks a lot like awe. He's propped up on his elbows, his black hair falling into his face, and there's a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

"That was…" He trails off, running a hand through his damp hair, his mouth slightly agape as if he's at a loss for words. "I think that was the best thing I've ever seen."

You attempt a scowl, but it comes out more as a grimace, your face still flushed from the orgasm. "Don't get too smug, Black."

His grin is wicked, eyes sparkling with mischief as he settles down beside you, but even as his fingers draw lazy circles on your skin, there's care in the way he touches you now. His grip is lighter, knowing too much pressure might send a flare of pain through your already-overworked body. He watches your face carefully, searching for any sign of discomfort, any tension in your brow. When he sees it, just the smallest wince as you shift, he tugs you closer, his hands moving instinctively to rub at the small of your back, the exact spot that always seizes up after nights like this.

"And can you blame me?" He shifts, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple, then your jaw, and finally the curve of your neck still flushed from exertion. "You made quite the mess, love."

Your groan is muffled against his shoulder, but he feels it, his chuckle a low rumble in his chest as he pulls you closer. His arms wrap around you, strong and reassuring even as they threaten to undo you all over again.

"You know," he murmurs, fingers drawing lazy circles on your bare hip, his touch so gentle now it's almost reverent, "now that I've got the technique down, I might have to make this a regular thing." But then his gaze flickers down, catching the way your hands flex slightly, your joints stiffening in the aftermath. He shifts again, rolling you against his chest, one strong arm slipping beneath your back as he kneads the tension from your shoulders. "And after, I'll make sure you're taken care of properly. Can't have my girl hurting too much to let me do this again, can I?"

A shiver races down your spine at the promise laced within his words--part anticipation, part exhaustion pulling at your limbs. Sirius merely smirks, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in satisfaction.

You're in so much trouble.

#marauders au #marauders era #sirius black x you #sirius black smut #sirius black x reader #Chantelle's Smut Challenge 2025

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