#its always 'its never too late to be better' but it always was for him
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All Of Your Pieces (2 - Liar! Liar!)
Chapter Summary: You wake up one morning compelled to say the truth and nothing but the truth. Wanda seizes this opportunity to ensure everything remains under her control. Meanwhile, Jimmy and Darcy finally discover what happened to Agent Monica Rambeau. Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader Chapter word count: 3k+ | Chapter Tags: Manipulation
A/N: Billy is my favorite twin, if that isn't obvious already :P // More author's notes here.
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
It doesn’t require a calendar to track the days here in Westview.
It's the kind of repetition that settles over suburban life, where dates fade into insignificance and days blur into a seamless loop, distinguishable only by the changing seasons. But even the current season—fall—is as predictable in its passage as ever, like storybook weather in its perfection. The birds are always chirping, the sun rises promptly at 6:40 every morning—never a minute early or a second late—and it never rains. Just endless clear skies, day after day, until the sun sets at five.
You've been chewing on this odd feeling ever since you and Wanda arrived in this part of New Jersey, but today, there's something extra. You can't pin it down, just that it's…there. Today feels different—more than usual—and you didn’t really get it until breakfast, when your mouth slipped past your usual tact with the kids.
“Mommy, do you like it?” Tommy asks, his eyes big and hopeful as he holds up a crayon drawing of what looks like the family standing outside a perfect little house.
Perfect. Honestly, you’re getting pretty tired of everything being so perfect around here.
“It's...very colorful,” you start, the usual praise ready on your tongue, but what comes out instead is, “Though it's kind of all over the place, isn’t it? Maybe you could try to stay inside the lines a bit more.”
Speaking aloud is like sending an email: once it's out there, it's out there for good. Even so, an email would have been the better option. At least then, you could just hack into Tommy’s account—if he ever figures out how to set one up—and erase your blunder for good.
Could having a magical wife somehow save you from this mess?
It’s too late though. Tommy's face crumples, and Wanda doesn't seem keen on throwing you a lifeline, just a dirty look from across the table as you sip your morning coffee.
“But if you’re going for an abstract—” you start, but your son is already sulking off to his room.
Billy digs into his cereal, blissfully unaware. Wanda, on the other hand, looks as if she's ready to rip open a portal to another realm and hurl you out of this one.
That can’t be good.
“You really upset him,” she says, arms crossing over her chest. “He was so proud of that drawing.”
“I know, I feel awful about it,” you groan, burying your face in your hands. Seeing your genuine remorse, Wanda eases up, giving you a moment to stew in your guilt before she comes back to the table with a stack of pancakes.
“Here, eat up,” she says, setting them down in front of you.
You pick up your fork, cutting into the stack. They look perfect—golden brown, with the butter melting just right. You take a bite, and before you can stop yourself, the words are out.
“They're a bit dry,” you blurt out, instantly regretting your words. But once you start, you can't seem to stop. “And this maple syrup... it tastes kind of artificial.”
Wanda gasps. “Excuse me?”
“Shit—”
“Language, Y/N!” she snaps, but it's too late, the curse is already out there, floating in the air like a bad smell.
In the next moment, something strange happens—your lips tingle, and suddenly you can't feel your mouth. Alarmed, you touch your face, finding smooth skin where your lips should be. You try to protest, but only muffled noises emerge. Fear surges as you point frantically at your face. You attempt to scream, but no sound comes out.
Seeing your flustered pantomime, Wanda’s face goes from angry to horrified. With a wave of her hand, your mouth is back in its place, and you’re gasping, both of you staring at each other, not believing what just happened. Meanwhile, Billy is giggling, clapping his tiny hands together, and gleefully repeating the S-word you accidentally let slip earlier.
You and Wanda just continue to stare at each other in shock, but then you glance at Billy, his innocent delight completely oblivious to the fact he’s saying something he shouldn’t, and you see the corners of Wanda’s mouth start to twitch. A moment later, she’s laughing unabashedly, and before you know it, you’re doing the same.
Despite the peculiarities of your life here in Westview, you don't think you've ever been this content. Before Wanda, the idea of having your own family—your own kids, two no less—seemed unthinkable. You never imagined you'd have a wife, a house in a quiet suburb, or hear one of your sons swear for the first time. Westview is far from normal, but then again, so is your family. As you watch Wanda's laughter taper into soft giggles, you think it's impossible to love her any more than you already do.
Wanda made this all conceivable for you.
“Sorry, honey,” you say, though still a bit shaken by the ordeal. “I didn't mean to be so rude.”
Wanda looks even more remorseful than you feel—which makes sense, considering she did erase your mouth, however briefly.
“And I probably shouldn't have... you know, removed your mouth,” she murmurs, guiltily picking at her cuticles.
Admittedly, it was terrifying—one of the scariest experiences you've ever had. You certainly don't want a repeat. It makes you slightly wary of your wife, but your love for Wanda outweighs your fear. Standing beside one of the most powerful beings in the universe takes courage, and you've built up plenty over the years together. You're made for this—for her, for this kind of love.
“Apology accepted,” you say, mustering a weak smile.
Wanda's face floods with relief, then quickly contorts into worry. “What’s with you today?”
“I can't seem to lie,” you confess, realizing there's no easy way to skirt the truth. “I don't know what's happening, but I just can't stop saying exactly what's on my mind.”
She stares at you, confused and a little hurt. “What do you mean you can’t lie today? So, you’re usually lying?”
Before you can smooth that over, Billy looks up from his cereal, fixing you with that stern look that’s pure Wanda. “Mommy, lying is bad.”
Wanda’s gaze softens as she looks at Billy, then back at you, the seriousness returning. “Billy, why don’t you go brush your teeth and check on your brother? Your mommy and I need to talk for a little bit.”
“Okay, mama.”
Billy scampers off, and you feel your stature shrink under your wife's gaze, suddenly feeling every bit the child.
“What’s this about not being able to lie?” Wanda asks once it’s just the two of you.
You shake your head. “Look, it’s not that I usually lie, but today, I can’t even if I wanted to. It’s like a—a truth filter permanently switched off.”
Wanda takes a few moments to mull over your words. “Oh…” she starts, sounding half-convinced. “Maybe it’s stress,” she throws out after a beat. “You’ve been working really hard lately, haven’t you? Perhaps your mind is just overwhelmed and you need a mental day off.”
You had thought of that, but the whole situation seemed too weird for such a simple explanation. Then again, maybe seeing shadows where there aren't any is just another stress symptom. So you let it slide.
“Yeah, maybe you’re right. I’ll see if I can call in sick next week,” you mumble, trying to sound cheerful about the prospect of a break.
Wanda comes around the table and cups your face in her hands. You let her pinch your cheeks together, feeling both stubborn and a bit sorry for yourself. It's silly, but all you want is for Wanda to coddle you and make you feel better, not to dish out logical reasons for why you’re not yourself today.
“Well, if you're stuck with the truth, let's have some fun with it,” Wanda says.
You swallow hard, aware that any question she might ask now would either please or upset her—and there seems to be no middle ground.
“Uhm, honey, I don’t think—”
“Do you love me?”
You smirk at her; that’s an easy one. “More than anything else.”
“Only me?”
You laugh at her silly follow-up. This reminds you of the early days of your courtship when Wanda was a bottomless well of need. You didn't mind at all, knowing she needed to hear it as often as you made her feel it. Initially, you were a bit bothered, wondering if your actions weren't speaking loudly enough for her to trust you. Eventually, it became less frequent, until the question turned into a statement—You love me—to which you responded with your own: You love me too. Since then, it quickly became how you say ‘I love you’ to each other.
“Only you. I'd sooner die than love someone else,” you confidently tell her.
Her smile in return is a beautiful riddle—a riddle you can’t figure out.
“Wanda, I—”
“Do you like living here?”
“Sometimes.” The words slip out before you can think, and you're relieved to realize that your feelings about Westview are honestly not all negative. “It’s a nice town. Quiet and cheap.”
Wanda's face does something subtle. You can't quite read her reaction, but it's clear she has more questions when she doesn't park on your answer, instead moving on to something else.
“Do you... do you remember how we got here?"
You blink at her. Initially, the question seems a bit absurd. But as you try to formulate a response, “Of course. We got married at…” you stall, your brain blanking on the when and where of your own wedding. “...then we moved into this house last…”
You try to pin down the date, but it slips through your mind like sand.
“Wanda?” A laugh escapes you, but there's a nervous edge to it. “Why can’t I remember any of the details?”
The last thing she says before flicking her wrist is, “Because you’re not supposed to.” But even that slips away, scrubbed clean from your memory by Wanda’s sweeping hand.
–
“Jimmy?”
“Yeah?”
“I think I found her.”
Jimmy hurried over to the tight corner of their camp where Darcy had practically set up shop for the past few days. Since the signals were first picked up, she's taken charge of monitoring the transmissions, her main focus being to locate Agent Monica Rambeau. They've already confirmed that many of Wanda's bizarre, sitcom-style characters are, in fact, real residents of Westview, somehow trapped inside whatever anomaly Wanda seems to be in the center of.
“That’s Monica, right?” Darcy points at the grainy image on the retro television set they've been using to watch the town's activities. The broadcasts come through at odd hours, which makes every second of surveillance crucial.
Jimmy leans in closer, squinting at the screen where a woman bearing a striking resemblance to Monica appears. “It sure looks like her,” he confirms.
The woman onscreen is dressed in distinctly 70s fashion—a bold, patterned blouse with wide lapels tucked into high-waisted bell-bottoms. Her hair is styled in voluminous, bouncy curls that softly frame her face, completing the look that is so far removed from the S.W.O.R.D. uniform Jimmy last saw her in.
“I wonder what character she’s playing in the show…” Darcy muses.
A handful of nearby crew quietly look on as Monica steps out of a Hornet, a stack of papers clutched in her hand, and strides confidently toward one of those cookie-cutter houses lining the street—yours and Wanda's.
“Stay frosty, Monica,” Darcy mutters under her breath, staring unblinkingly at the screen as they watch her knock gently on the door.
It’s Wanda who greets her with a guarded smile. “Hello, can I help you?” she asks, sizing up the stranger on her doorstep.
“Hi, there. I’m Geraldine. You must be Wanda,” Monica says. Jimmy and Darcy exchange a look, both arriving at the same conclusion: whatever spell has ensnared the other residents, Monica appears to be under it too.
“Do I know you?” Wanda asks, her teeth gritted in what she hopes passes for a smile. But Wanda, she’s got a tell. It’s never hard to see when she’s faking it. The sitcom laugh track of this Westview tries to spin it as humor, but it’s clear to anyone—she’s not thrilled about Geraldine’s arrival at all.
“Oh, I’m sorry, has Y/N not mentioned who I am?” Geraldine asks mildly, like she’s bringing up some small, casual detail—which, for Wanda, it isn’t.
“Honey, who's at the door?” Your voice drifts from the living room just before you step into view, crunching on an apple. When you spot the visitor, your face lights up with recognition, puzzling Wanda even more.
“Evening, ma'am,” Geraldine nods at you with a polite smile.
Wanda keeps darting glances between you and Geraldine, trying to piece together what's going on. And what’s frustrating her is you don’t seem privy at all to her disconcertment.
“I told you to just call me Y/N,” you admonish with a light grin. “What brings you here?”
“W-Who is she?” Wanda jumps in, keeping up her charade of a pleasant surprise.
“It’s Geraldine,” you tell Wanda, expecting her to recognize the name. Her blank, slightly annoyed expression forces you to jog your memory and that’s when it hits you that your wife has no idea what you’re talking about. “She’s my new assistant. Didn’t I tell you?” you say sheepishly.
“No, honey, you certainly did not,” Wanda replies, her smile stretched a bit too tight. She turns to Geraldine. “Aren’t offices usually closed by five?”
“They sure are, Wanda,” Geraldine replies cheerfully. It bothers Wanda how Geraldine uses ‘ma’am’ for you but casually drops her first name like they're old friends.
“So, why are you here?” Wanda asks, no longer bothering to hide her irritation.
“Oh, just dropping off some reports that Y/N needed to review tonight. Urgent stuff, you know?” Geraldine holds up the stack of papers in her hand as proof.
“Yikes,” Darcy winces at the tension practically leaking through the screen, feeling that deep cringe of secondhand embarrassment for Monica's obliviousness to Wanda's ire.
Fortunately for your assistant, you position yourself between her and Wanda, intercepting just as your wife’s temper begins to flare. You remember Wanda’s warm, almost syrupy kindness with Agnes when she first appeared, which only makes her sudden cold front toward Geraldine unreasonable.
“I completely forgot about those reports. Thanks for bringing them over, Geraldine,” you say, nudging her toward the exit. “See you Monday!”
Then, you close the door before she can add anything else, sparing both women from each other.
“So, why haven't you mentioned Geraldine before?” Wanda asks, not sparing another second to grill you about your new assistant.
You frown, thinking back. “I thought I did.”
Wanda looks at you for a long moment, her expression inscrutable. “Are you sure there’s nothing else you’re not telling me?” she demands, her eyes searching yours.
“Uh-oh, trouble in paradise,” Darcy sing-songs, stuffing a handful of popcorn into her mouth. Jimmy reaches over, trying to sneak a handful, but she swats him away.
You give her a lopsided smile, doing your best to charm your way out of the situation. The compulsive honesty from earlier isn't nagging at you anymore, but really, there's no need to sugarcoat anything in this case.
“Sounds like someone's a little jealous,” you tease lightly. And there it is again—that distant chorus of an audience, laughing on cue. You really need to talk to Wanda about this; it could be linked to all the experiments she's been doing with her powers.
Wanda barks out a forced laugh right into your smirking face. “Jealous? Me? There's no way I'm jealous of anyone, especially not Geraldine.”
“Then why did you look like you wanted to throw her out yourself when she showed up?”
Wanda's smile fades a tad, then she just shrugs. “Because she was interrupting our family dinner time. That's all.”
Normally, you'd draw this out until she admits she's jealous, but that could take all night. Right now, all you want is to kiss your beautiful wife, the only one you see. It's getting late, and not being able to touch her all day is driving you a little mad with want.
“Fine, you're not jealous,” you whisper, moving in, wrapping your arms around her waist. “Why would you be? You’re the prettiest, smartest, most amazing woman anyone could ask for.”
Wanda melts into you almost instantly. “You love me.”
“You love me too,” you say before leaning in to peck her lips. She hums happily against your lips, but just then, you hear the boys complaining about being hungry. Sharing a smile, you both head back to sort out dinner.
The episode ends, credits roll, and Darcy groans, tossing her head back. “No way. I need more of this,” she huffs, stabbing her finger at the screen. “They're perfect together. Shame Y/N’s supposedly dead. I hate spoilers.”
“She doesn’t look dead to me from here,” Jimmy says.
“My theory? That’s not actually her. I bet Wanda or someone did something to make a rando look like Y/N.”
“You think?”
Darcy nods. “With all the surreal stuff happening here? Yeah, I'd put money on it, dude.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Jimmy concedes. “Anyway, it’s a relief to see Agent Rambeau’s alive and kicking.”
“As Geraldine,” Darcy reminds him. “I wonder who chooses their names for them. Back to Y/N, what did that Howard guy have to say about Y/N being dead but so alive in Westview?”
“It’s Hayward,” Jimmy corrects her with a sigh. “He doesn’t seem interested in her or anyone else trapped inside. He’s more interested in the energy field surrounding the town.”
“And their boys?” Darcy adds, not listening to Jimmy’s rant. “We don’t have any public record of their true identities in Westview, right?”
Jimmy gives her a sidelong glance. “No records, no data. As far as Westview’s concerned, they just… appeared.”
“Typical,” she mutters, jotting down notes without looking away from the TV's static, hoping there’s a bonus episode or something.
But the screen stays blank, nothing but static for hours on end.
–
After hours of making love, Wanda lies next to you, watching you sleep. She’s used her powers on you before, but never here, never without your consent since you became a couple. Casting the hex was the easy part, the lying to you—not so much. Acting like she didn't know what was troubling you had hurt her more than she let on.
She wanted to check if you were still happy here, still content, or if doubts were starting to creep in. And knowing you—the real you—you'd probably lie to Wanda just to keep her happy, just to ensure she has everything she wants. You've always prioritized her needs over your own, always stepping aside to let her shine. She wants the same for you, but you always manage to outdo her in every act of self-sacrifice.
When you started asking her about the exact dates of the wedding you thought you two actually had, it confirmed you still had no idea why you’re here, or what she’s done. She was relieved, honestly, because it meant she could stop forcing you to tell the truth, a spell she’d put on you out of desperation more than distrust.
She isn't sure how long this will last, just that it might be the most happiness she'll ever know, even if it's a delicate, fleeting kind. How did she even do this? Wanda doesn’t even know. It just happened—like a rose that has sprouted off a barren land. And now, despite having everything she's ever wanted, there’s always this nagging fear that it could all fall apart.
Quietly, she makes a promise to herself to fix things. She promises to you and her boys, she’ll find a way to make this life real, something that won’t just vanish like everything else she’s ever loved.
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff imagine#wanda maximoff x you#wanda x you#wanda maximoff#unbetad#my writing#my fic#elizabeth olsen x reader#elizabeth olsen#wanda maximoff fanfiction#oneshots#fic request#wandavision#monica rambeau#darcy lewis#jimmy woo#All Of Your Pieces#AOYP
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i know the end - vettel
(gif not mine @usersewis)
pairing: sebastian vettel x reader
summary: Sebastian came into your life in 2015 and left in 2020 - but you fell in love with him and he just wanted a championship.
themes/warnings: alcohol, ANGST, no use of y/n, description of a panic attack, unrequited love, waxing poetic about ferrari - can you tell they're my fav team, kimi mentioned, charles is here too !! THIS IS FICTION
wc: 3.6k
a/n: someone on tumblr said that ferrari is a haunted house with a picket fence and i have never stopped thinking about it since. i have also never stopped thinking about sebastian vettel - subcategory of seb thoughts is seb in ferrari. also still open to do requests - trying out this whole fic writing thing. will also need help with organising my blog if anyone is keen :)
read on ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/60713827
Sebastian joined Ferrari in 2015. The team were ecstatic to have the four time world champion join their ranks, determined to bring Ferrari back to its former glory.
You were working on the strategy team, fairly new but established enough to be listened to on the rare occasion.
You met Seb in the pre-season at his factory introduction. He made his speech, charming the floor with his near perfect Italian. He popped into the strategy meeting room during his tour, a war room that had become home for you with its laptops and papers spread out. Sebastian was the perfect gentleman, shaking hands with everyone, though you thought he may have held on a bit longer with you.
The season started soon after, the entire garage working overtime. You were given the opportunity to accompany the team at races, rather than being stuck at Maranello.This is how you became Sebastian’s favourite strategist.
You’re not exactly sure when it happened. You made a good strategy call in Malaysia, a well timed pit stop in Hungary and by Singapore, the lion knew your coffee order from the Ferrari cafeteria, ensuring to always pass you some before a long meeting.
Falling for Sebastian was drawn out, comprised of lingering greeting hugs, good conversation at team dinners, long nights at the factory and searing glances across foreign nightclubs.
You didn’t realise it for a while, and you wouldn’t realise it until it was too late. The attention you received was perhaps just part of Seb’s charm, and he had the whole motorsport world wrapped around his infamous finger.
2016 brought on a winless year for Ferrari, both Kimi and Sebastian unable to make it to that crucial top step.
You found Seb at the back of the Ferrari motorhome after a particularly tough race, hiding between tyre stacks. You overheard his PR team scrambling to find him - you slipped out to the back unnoticed, knowing exactly where he was.
The tyre stacks were sort of a shared place for you and Sebastian, free from the prying eyes of the world. The only person who knew about it was Sebastian’s head mechanic, who accidentally stumbled upon you two sharing champagne after a podium last year.
I’ll be there soon. Sebastian recognised your footsteps before even looking up.
You sat down beside him, trying to find the words while he absentmindedly played with his water bottle.
I’m sorr-
I don’t want to hear it.
Sebastian had never snapped at you. You knew the strategy calls were bad today, resulting in an ill timed pitstop and Sebastian falling through the other. This Seb, this was completely foreign to you.
Seb stood and left, sparing no further glance at you. It was a punch to your gut. Did he blame you? Drivers were always temperamental, that you knew, but Sebastian had always been nothing but kind and mature with you.
Your body went into autopilot mode, packing up what you can before the team debrief.
Sebastian barely spared you a glance as everyone settled in for the debrief. Perhaps a sign that he calmed down during media duties, but you knew better than to play detective with another man’s emotions.
Strategy seemed to be the biggest issue to tackle with your boss taking the lead. You half listened, taking notes occasionally until he mentioned your name.
One of the plans you brought up in pre-race meetings was bold and daring. It was entertained, but ultimately shoved aside for what ended up happening during the race. However after witnessing what happened in the race, it would have gained the team some higher positions.
Ferrari is a team, one where we win and lose together. Every aspect is just as important as each other. Admitting mistakes and learning for them is how the team gets stronger.
The strategy admission had Sebastian sneaking glances at you for the rest of the meeting. You felt it, but you weren’t exactly ready to forgive yet.
You returned to your home in Maranello without so much as another word to Sebastian. You were, however, greeted by a bouquet of peonies on your dining table, along with a note from the man you were so desperately trying not to think about.
By 7PM the same day, you and Seb were sharing a blanket on the couch and watching a romcom, having devoured pizza and now working your way through a giant bag of chocolate wafers.
Unfortunately, Seb knew the way to your heart. As you tucked yourself into bed that night, you realised that you never shared a conversation with him about Sunday and an even scarier thought, you had forgiven him.
2017 saw you and Sebastian grow even closer. Movie nights at your apartment became the norm and Seb often took you to dinner on race weekends, despite your protests that the dinners were too fancy. He had to spoil his favourite strategist would always be his response.
Sebastian returned to the top step of Monaco that year, the Italian anthem blaring across the track along with a chorus of devoted Tifosi. He sneaked off after the celebrations, pulling you with him to the tyre stacks, champagne bottle on the other hand.
Seb passed you the bottle and you took a large sip, pushing down the thought that his lips were on it mere moments ago.
Are you coming to the afterparty?
Yes, but I don’t have anything to wear?
No party dress packed? Ye of little faith.
You rolled your eyes and shoved the bottle back into his hands. The endless banter and teasing simultaneously made you forget about your feelings for Seb but also made you fall harder for him.
Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. He kissed your cheek and walked away.
Cheek kisses weren’t new for Seb, having evolved from greeting hugs long ago. But “take care of it”? Well, he better not be doing what you were thinking.
You returned to your hotel room to a large black box on your bed, an extravagant red bow tied around it with a handwritten note, definitely scrawled on by a tipsy Seb.
The box revealed a red dress, and on top of it, another small box. You opened it and out dangled a small necklace with a heart charm. Engraved on one side was the number 5. Sebastian.
Sebastian knocked on your door two hours later, dressed sharp and ready for the night ahead. He took you in, the dress he picked out was the perfect fit against your skin. There was however, one missing detail.
The necklace?
It’s a bit much, no?
Nonsense.
Sebastian walked into your room and spotted the necklace on the bed. He took it out of its pouch and motioned for you to stand in front of the mirror. He stood behind, putting the necklace on you. His fingers ghosted over your neck, raising the tiny hairs on your skin.
Team number 5.
Sebastian kissed the side of your head and his fingers trailed down your arm to grab your hand. You followed him out in a daze to the elevator.
The dim light of the elevator and Sebastian’s intoxicating cologne enveloping the cramped box. The elevator dinged, letting in more people. The sound woke you from whatever spell Sebastian cast. You counted down the floors until you had to leave the warmth of Sebastian’s side and his calloused hand around yours.
Ground floor. The air was clearer as you exited the bubble - reality. Because despite everything, Sebastian wasn’t yours. He is Ferrari’s. You are Ferrari’s. For now, sharing a home would be enough.
You never left Sebastian’s line of sight all night. Between partying with your girlfriends, sharing a drink with your boss and a few dances with Seb, the clarity in the haze of the club was Sebastian.
As the night began winding down, Sebastian approached you at a booth. He was holding a mystery drink and his pupils were blown wide. He began blabbering about something Kimi did, the Finn possibly to blame for Sebastian’s current state. You took one look at him and began arranging a cab back to the hotel.
You managed to drag a half asleep Sebastian back to his room. You sat him on the edge of the bed while you filled up a water bottle. You came back and found him spread eagle on the bed. At least he took his shoes off.
Goodnight Seb.
You were halfway out the room when you heard it.
I love you.
You froze. Looking back, you saw Seb snoring peacefully, hugging a pillow to his chest. No, he’s drunk and sleeping. It wasn’t for you. It could’ve been for his bed for all you cared for. It didn’t matter, despite your heart wishing it was for you.
2018 was another successful year for Ferrari. Sebastian came home with five wins that year, placing second in the drivers standings and Kimi in third. All in all, you were quite proud of the team’s efforts that year and you knew you could unlock more of that potential.
However, you could feel something bothering Sebastian. An itch that had been present all season. You had asked a few times, but Seb always insisted it was nothing. You knew Sebastian well enough by this point. You could read him, to an extent. But if he truly wanted to hide something, you would be helpless at getting it out.
Sebastian invited you to stay at his farm in Switzerland for a week during the winter break. You happily obliged, having not seen him since wrapping up in Abu dhabi. You could use the tranquillity of farm life for a bit.
Your days there were spent helping Sebastian with the animals. He taught you horse riding and you taught him baking. You let yourself get lost in that life, if just for a mere moment. Perhaps in some alternate universe, this was your home with him, that you weren’t only playing house for a week.
You and Sebastian were laying on the carpet in front of the fireplace, sharing a bowl of attempted smores. It was your last night there before you had to jet off back to Maranello to begin pre season work.
Seb got quiet, not exactly rare but it was different when something was on his mind.
Would you ever leave?
Leave where?
Ferrari.
No. Ferrari is home.
Sebastian hummed, adding nothing more but deciding to bite into another smore. A bit of chocolate dripped onto his chin. You chuckled and wiped it off with your thumb.
Besides, you don’t need to worry about that new French kid. You’re still my favourite, world champion.
Sebastian laughed, but you missed the melancholy in his eyes and the smile not quite reaching his eyes.
Being a Tifosi came with many highs and lows - any balding Italian man can tell you that. It was felt even more within the team, especially for Sebastian this year.
2019 saw the meteoric rise of Charles Leclerc, the predestined. He cemented his place as not only the future of Ferrari itself, but of the sport as well.
Charles was full of energy and light. You grew fond of the kid and it was nice to have his company amidst the turmoil surrounding the team that year.
You went into that year determined to get Sebastian his championship he so desperately craved. You were instead met by cheating rumours, bad calls, power shifting and well, an increasingly frustrated Sebastian.
Sebastian who has been chasing that championship feeling for years. Sebastian who bleeds Ferrari red. Sebastian who is determined to bring the team back to the top. Sebastian, who is not quite yours, but you devoted your red heart to.
Perhaps that’s how you ended up in this position.
Sebastian pulled you into his driver’s room after a race. The habit has raised a few eyebrows from passing crew, but none have said a word.
Nothing ever happened anyways.
Seb would sit you on his couch and you’d listen. Listen as he rambled in a heinous mix of German, Italian and English. Listen as he let out his emotions after a race and all the lows he went through that weekend.
You’d bring up some of these points to relevant crew members. It would be worked on and by the following race, it would be better. But it was never enough for Sebastian.
You understood, he was supposed to bring Ferrari back, follow in the footsteps of his mentor and hero. It was an immense pressure and responsibility that has been carried for years. Now, the Italians have put their faith in his teammate, throwing him aside like an old toy.
It was draining for you too, being subjected to this almost every weekend. It wasn’t your burden to bear, but this was Sebastian. He is still Rosso Corsa, and you weren’t one to deny a cry for help.
Singapore rolled around, one of Sebastian’s favourites. He crossed the line in first place that night. You haven’t been so happy in months.
Sebastian found you at your desk after media duties. You were still on the adrenaline high, but the tiredness began seeping back into your bones. You knew you weren’t sleeping well, the stress of the season getting to you and your eyes looked darker than ever. For Ferrari, the pain was always worth it.
Come out tonight.
Seb, I feel dead.
And the race winner is personally inviting you.
You could never resist him, which is how you have an extremely plastered Seb on your arm as you walk back to the hotel. Apparently being part of Team 5 also meant babysitting when he’s had one too many.
I LOVE FERRARI! I NEVER WANT TO LEAVE! FORZA FERRARI!
Sempre.
May 2020. F1 was still on the break. The only place you went was your home in Maranello and occasionally the factory. You hadn’t seen Sebastian in months and to be honest, you haven’t heard from him as much as you wanted to.
Then, the announcement. Sebastian Vettel to leave Ferrari by the end of the 2020 season.
It came as a shock to you. Seb’s contract was up for renewal, you knew that. But he never said anything about leaving, at least, not to your face. And to find out from Instagram, rather than from the man himself, that was a whole other issue.
You left several messages on Seb’s number over the next week, all remained unanswered. You knew he was a bit of a recluse sometimes, preferring quiet company over the glitz and glamour other drivers seemed to surround themselves with. Ignoring you however, that was unheard of.
You asked some of Seb’s mechanics, but none have heard from him. You even asked Charles, but all he received was a polite thank you message.
After a while, you gave up on contacting him. You knew better than to beg for a man’s attention, even Sebastian’s. It broke your heart to walk away, but you had to keep pushing and Ferrari needed to keep pushing.
Red Bull Ring, Austria. The first race back was a much quieter environment than what you’ve been used to. Despite wanting to stay in Maranello, mainly to stay safe but also to avoid a certain German, your boss wanted you at the races. Who were you to deny the call of the Prancing Horse.
You ignored him all weekend, refusing to make eye contact or be in his general presence at all. It was perhaps a bit petty, but you deserved to be after the last two months.
Charles placed P2, a great result from the team for the first race back. You chatted to him at your desk after the race. Charles was a young man that had raw talent, immense passion and was wise beyond his years. You were lucky to call him a friend.
Mid conversation, Charles glanced behind you. You knew exactly who was standing there, but he could wait his turn.
You finished up with Charles, giving him a hug before he left.
You stared at Seb standing awkwardly in the doorway. He shifted on his feet, for once not knowing what to say to you.
Please say something.
I have nothing to say to you. You’re the one who went radio silent for months.
I’m sorry.
You shook your head and looked away, not wanting him to see how much this affected you.
I didn’t know how to tell you.
Seb moved closer, stepping into your space. He reached out a shaky hand to yours. You gripped his, you couldn’t help it. A silent sob escaped your body.
Come with me.
You whipped around, searching his pleading eyes.
Come with me. To Aston Martin.
His other hand came up to the side of your head, cupping your cheeks and wiping away the tears on your cheek.
Come with me. I need you.
His hand brushed down the side of your neck, fingers finding the necklace he gifted all those years ago.
Team 5. That’s our home. Please.
Sebastian fiddled with the charm. He found the engraved 5 turned around, no longer facing outward like how you’ve always worn it.
You took Sebastian’s hand and pressed a tender kiss to it.
Ferrari is my home. I can’t come with you.
You dropped his hand and looked anywhere else but him. You couldn’t bear to see the tears welling in his eyes.
Please leave.
Sebastian walked out, hesitating at the door. He took a last look at you and left.
You let the cries come out. Every emotion you’ve kept the last few years came out in a tidal wave.
You felt an arm wrapping around your shoulders, recognising Charles’ hand. He helped you to the floor and let you lean against him.
I’m sorry.
You requested to be transferred to Maranello for the rest of the season, citing health concerns. The team was sad to see you go, many of them enjoying your company on long race weekends.
You only saw Sebastian in passing for the rest of the year, heard about him from mechanics, through strategy feedback and once from Charles. He knew not to press, but you didn’t miss the occasional flicker of sympathy from his eyes.
Sebastian came by the factory after the season ended, a formal goodbye to Ferrari. There was food and drinks passed around and some quick speeches made.
Sebastian was the last to come forward.
It has been my dream to race for the Scuderia since I was a boy. Here I stand now, as a Ferrari driver for six incredible seasons. It still feels like cloud nine everytime I get to walk into this beautiful place and be greeted by the passion from every single one of you. I thank you all for the hard work you’ve put in all these years.
Sebastian took a breath, as if hesitating on what to say next. You found yourself waiting, a small part of you hoping for him to say something, anything that would allow you to forgive him.
I want to say a special thank you to those who have been by my side. You know who you are. I know I haven’t always made it easy, and I am sorry for that. But I am eternally grateful for you.
Sebastian’s eyes found yours in the crowd. You found yourself fiddling with the necklace for comfort, forcing your eyes to hold back tears.
Thank you all. Forza Ferrari sempre.
The crowd erupted in cheers, applauding Seb as he made his way back into the crowd.
Your ears were ringing, vision blurry and the swell of the crowd was suddenly too much. Your feet relief on instinct, turning you around and leading you towards the exit.
A hand found your arm as you reached the lobby. Charles. The youngster took one look at you and said something about a car and to wait. Your body curled into a ball as you heaved.
This was it. Sebastian was leaving. Leaving Ferrari and the home you built in it, with him. And neither of you could muster the courage for a proper goodbye. What an irony, Ferrari who creates heroes and legends but two of their best and brightest are cowards with each other.
A sleek black Ferrari pulled up to the front. The rumble of the engine was enough to push yourself to stand and stumble your way to Charles who had opened the door for you.
You turned, taking a look at the building. Ferrari is always going to be home, but the people in it give it meaning. Sebastian left, and your sun set, but it will rise again soon.
You were at the door and hesitated for the briefest moment. That was enough for Sebastian to come running into the lobby.
You stood in the moonlight with windswept hair and teary eyes. From the distance, Sebastian could just make out the glimmer of the necklace he gave you all those years ago and the most important thought - you were still the most beautiful woman he ever got the chance to know.
He loved you. Loves you. It was real all along, not some drunken stupor that he convinced himself it was all those years ago, hiding because it would be easier than to let himself fall.
He understood. You were always by his side, and he was too late to notice it, much less be grateful for it. You can't forgive him now, and he’s caused too much harm. It would be selfish of him to keep you tethered.
He needs to let you go.
Sebastian nodded at you from his frozen place in the lobby. This is the end. You touched your hand to your heart, where your necklace fell. In another life.
#f1#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#sebastian vettel#sebastian vettel x reader#sebastian vettel angst#f1 angst#charles leclerc#kimi raikkonen#ferrari
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Out of the frying pan, into the flames
cw: dark themes, kidnapping, conditioning, implied sex slavery
Lately I’ve been thinking about Price finding you during a covert op. Deep in the interior rooms of a compound once belonging to a man deemed an enemy by whoever is currently signing the 141’s paychecks.
Killing the hawk, only to find the chick in its nest. Something left behind that will die if abandoned.
You’ve been conditioned well, curtesy of the man who laid on the pavement outside with one of Price’s bullets between his eyes. Perfectly well behaved, hadn’t made a single sound even when he’d burst into the room.
There’s a collar on your neck. A loose fitting dress. A small, but cozy enough room, though it has no windows and locks from the outside.
In the records of the man’s office, evidence suggests that you’ve been in the game a long time. Enough to have disappeared as far as anyone who might’ve known you is concerned.
And Price was just thinking— there’s an elegant solution to all of this. He’s a quietly selfish man. He tries to suffocate that painful, roiling tempest inside that tells him he’s owed something. That he’s sacrificed too much for one lifetime and gotten too little in return.
Pawning you off onto some government officials, trying to find a place for you to be awkwardly shoved into society— that wouldn’t be good for you, John tells himself.
It would be better for everyone if he did what he always did. If he took care of things.
He lets you hold his hand while his other delicately rends the microchip from under the skin at the base of your skull with a knife. Removes the chafing nylon collar. He has something much nicer in mind for you.
John’s always thought that if he were home more, he’d have a damned good garden. That’s just how he is— nurturing. Bringing things to their best.
You know how to be good. You know how to be seen and not heard. You know how to suck cock so well it could bring a man to tears. And for lesser men, that might’ve been enough. But to Price, you’re still a block of unchiseled marble. There is a beautiful thing in you, and he will free it.
You haven’t heard a lick of praise in years. Why be praised for what you should be doing? For serving your purpose? You tense in a way that’s— quite frankly— adorable the first time he calls you a good girl. He’ll soften you to it in time.
He tells you how much it hurt to see you the way he found you…. Being wasted. Pearls before swine. No such thing as bad dogs, only bad owners. When you smile, the pit inside him grows. Deeper, hungrier.
He needs to be your sun, moon, and stars. To have a beautiful creature that would wither and die without his touch. A doll needs someone to dress it.
Your new collar is fine, beautiful leather. Embossed with a winding filigree, art noveau motifs. The little metal tag has his name. He likes the bell on it— so he can hear it grow louder so quickly whenever he comes through the door.
Your wide eyes when he comes home with a gift… they kill him every time. How you keen when he starts to fuss over you. How you’re hanging on his every word. How he hears the bell following him as he takes care of every little mundane task around the country home.
In a perverse irony, it calms him when he has to go away. Knowing that if he was killed, if he never came home— your life would end too. You’d be shattered beyond repair. He had fixed you once, and no one would ever be able to go over his work. The threads of your fate had become tangled to his in a way that couldn’t be undone. You shed no tears for the man before him. But there would be no man after him.
You’re damned lucky he happens to be good at his job.
#writing#cod fanfic#john price x reader#john price#cw kidnapping#cw chipping#cw conditioning#cw collar#cw dark content#cw implied slavery
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— through the camera . >< [ n.jm ]
Lovers . stranger to possibly lover!jaemin x fem!reader w. umm reader wears makeup, mentions of alcohol but no one consumed it thats it i think Step ? #751 M.recordings ! [ this was supposed to be just a thought. ]
syn. Your friend finally convinced you to go to a partie with her, and what you meet is way better than you expected
“Hurry! We’ll be late,” your best friend complained from the passenger seat, living up to the passenger princess title.
“Girl it's not something I can control, relax” You let out a breathy laugh at her eagerness, even though you were still pissed from the traffic, she just always made you cheery no matter what.
You were also somewhat excited, for the first time, she convinced you to go to one of her lame parties, you weren't super fond of parties, often finding peace in your alone time, where you enjoy doing your tasks in your room, under the calm breeze of winter.
But you felt like today was different, you wanted to go out, listen to music, dance a little and let go of some pressure, so when she invited you to go with her for the hundredth time, you said yes, catching the girl so off guard.
You two got ready together, picking up outfits for each other, and you let her experiment with your look for the day, makeup, hair, etc.
You felt different, but not bad different, you liked this, it felt like finally letting go of your worries, and accepting new experiences.
“Please play anything to waste time, if I hear one more honk I might go insane” you let out with a huff, and your friend followed, playing your shared playlist, and as you let the outside noise fall on deaf ears and moved with the songs, you found yourselves at the destination in no time.
As you entered the place, it was way different than what you expected, you thought it would have purple and blue lights everywhere, red solo cups on the floor, and crazy teenagers doing god knows what at a party at this time.
It was way too different, yet you were instantly hooked.
Wooden big swings decorated the corners of the open space, martini glasses on the fancy bar counter, a band standing on a small stage performing a jazz club-worthy song — you loved it all.
“Hello? I did not expect it to be like this” You got closer to your friend so she could hear you over the music, your voice sounding in awe.
She giggled at your reaction, “See, I told you you’d like it,” she looked around, finally seeing the boy she was here for, her ‘friend’, once she locked down his place she looked back at you.
“Come on, my friends are over there.” You followed after her.
You saw her friend whom you recognized from seeing him a few times and a guy next to him who you had never seen before, you talked a little bit and within minutes, you were left alone with the mystery boy who you later learned that his name is jaemin.
After chatting a little bit, you felt him pulling you towards the stage where the band was performing.
“This is my favorite song of theirs, I think you’ll like it,” he said with a sheepish smile, then he faced them and started singing along.
You stared at him. You didn't know what his deal was, but you were dying to figure it out. Everything about him was so inviting and alluring. The way he talked about the things he liked, even his smile, felt way too genuine. He pulled you in like the currents.
As you were losing yourself to the thought of him, you noticed him pulling out a camera, taking pictures of the band, capturing the moment so he could relive it for however long he wished, what you didn't expect is for him to capture you along his precious memories.
He turned to you, telling you to pose and you watched the huge smile that made its way on his face when you smiled for the camera, he snapped a few pictures, and he made a few comments about how they were museum-worthy. Your breath hitched and a red hue made its way to your cheeks.
You took the camera from him, telling him it was his time to get captured just like you, you watched him make some silly faces and poses, successfully pulling a few giggles out of you.
“So tell me” he started once the laughter had calmed down, and the music worked as background noise.
He stared at you so intensely you felt your insides dancing.
You were long gone thats for certain.
“Can I take out the pretty girl that made her way into my camera? And possibly into my heart?”
© voikiraz 2O24
#(ᥕ.ᥕ) ֙ ⋆#jaemin#nct dream#nct dream texts#nct dream imagine#na jaemin#jaemin imagine#jaemin fluff#jaemin texts#jaemin imagines#jaemin oneshot#jaemin angst#jaemin au#jaemin scenarios#jaemin social media au#jaemin soft hours#jaemin drabbles#jaemin fanfic#jaemin x reader#jaemin fake texts#jaemin x you#jaemin x y/n#jaemin nct#jaemin na#nct drabbles#nct dream x reader#nct dream fluff#nct dream angst#nct fluff
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Yet another new utau oc ^^ Yusuke (+ a ref of his other form too)
More info under the cut. Will be adding to it when I think of more
More info on his design:
His height is 6’5 (not counting his ears). In his ‘snow leopard’ form there’s a doodle near the bottom right of it’s size compared to a 6ft person (to it’s shoulders it’s around 7’11)
Late 20s in terms of age (will edit if I choose an age), a little bit younger than most Sanses.
Pansexual, He/Him/They/Them
Is basically nearly always seen with the pillow. If he isn’t seen with it he is either holding onto someone he trusts or his tail
His tail can be any size, but he often has it long.
Ability to turn into his ‘snow leopard’ form at will, for him this doesn’t take up much magic.
Can be drawn in other clothes, his clothing tends to be baggy techwear clothing, or just baggy stuff. Will often have star themed clothes, will also have a triangle accessory (In reference to Nix-Ceto, his best friend.)
Isn’t technically a Sans, but in his au he and his brother were referred to as ‘Sans’/’Papyrus’ respectively.
In his skele form he has a ‘halo’ has it to match with Nix’s halo. He normally doesn’t have it in his ‘snow leopard’ form.
In his skele form he has paw feet, but wears specially designed shoes for his paws, mainly because he doesn’t want to get them dirty/wet.
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His magic:
Has a high magic reserves but never tends to use his magic, this means he has magic build up and times his magic may go out of control. When he does remember to he will often try to waste his magic doing dumb stuff with it.
With his magic he can flip back and forth between his two forms, His main form (skele) and his ‘snow leopard’ form. Both forms have different ways of using the magic. And despite being a ‘snow leopard’ he mainly has ‘fire’ based magic.
Skele form: Is mainly support focused, can create barriers/shields in this form he can use his fire magic to create a barrier that harms anyone that touches it. He can boost the stats of allies, e.g. speed, hp, def, etc. Can do this to multiple stats of one person. Can summon a pen that he can draw in the air with, he can create objects that can appear/get created through what he draws. Can’t create living things or food/water. If he wants to make specific things he can read up a little bit of information about how something works, and he’s then able to create it and have it work e.g. a motorbike. Depending on how big the object is, is depending on how much it takes out of him (e.g. draining him in terms of magic) Has mastery over basic ‘skeleton’ magic. E.g. bones/blasters. But due to his high magic reserve he can output this magic a lot better/quicker than the average skeleton.
‘Snow leopard’ form: Uses a lot more fire, and his fire has a poison/burn effect in this form. Basically anyone who is hit by this fire feels a burning pain that may never go. Can surround his whole body in this flame to protect himself from attacks. Uses the flame to push things away e.g. like a wind attack but with added fire. His tail can extend/shrink in length, can use it like a whip to strike people from a distance, or can use it almost like how a snake would use its body. Can turn himself into a ball of flame to go in one direction very quickly. His flames can get so hot that any water near it evaporates instantly. When in this form his stats change to boss monster stats.
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Used to have an au. For as long as he could remember it was always him and Papyrus. When he was a little kid having to look after a toddler/baby. He’d try to take any jobs he could (e.g. helping the villagers snow shovel, tidy, etc) as the villagers in snowdin looked after them, he had so much anxiety about being useful to the adults helping him, to repay their kindness. As he got older and could take part time jobs he jumped at the chance to take multiple and earn money to support both him and his brother, as a minor and it being a part time job he never earned that much so took multiple jobs to try to earn enough. He always tried to make time for his brother, always finding time to come home to read Papyrus a story and tuck him into bed. When he became an adult and Papyrus a teen he could quit a few of the jobs, since he was now full time and earning more money due to being an adult. But he still worked 2 jobs, he wanted enough money to provide for his brother, for his brother to have a good life.
One day when tucking his brother into bed, his brother asked him to pick up a pillow that was across the room. Which when he went over to the pillow and picked it up, he was suddenly hit with the worst ‘gut’ feeling he has ever had in his life. He could tell his brother felt it too by his brother calling out his name. But when he stood up and turned around it’s like half the house had disappeared (like this, but only half), including the bed his brother had been laid in. He stood there in shock, before frantically looking for where his brother went. Looking out he could see the rubble of the house had been knocked halfway across Snowdin, and more buildings were getting ‘pushed’/destroyed, he ran as fast as he could to the other half of his house frantically digging through the rubble, shouting and screaming for his brother.
He could hear destruction around him, screaming and crying, but he didn’t care he needed to find his brother. He still had a hold of the pillow he had picked up, it now discarded at his side. He found dust, and his brothers scarf, leading to him having a breakdown, clutching both the scarf and the pillow. He could hear someone shouting in a commanding voice, but due to his state he couldn’t hear what was being said.
He was snapped out of it when his shoulder was roughly grabbed by someone, when he turned to see, it was someone who looked quite similar too him. He basically got dragged over to a gateway, a portal. He yelled the whole time not wanting to leave the rubble where his brother had died. But the other him smacked him upside the head, telling him he can ‘grieve later, right now he needs to live, or to help him go gather more people to evacuate’. Realizing the people of Snowdin needed help as well he quickly began to help guide people to the portal, them going to other areas of the underground to do the same thing, till everyone who was left was now through the portal.
When they both got through the portal, he sat down still clutching the scarf and pillow, just staring at the floor, not really knowing what to think. He could hear others trying to comfort people that had come from his au, other versions of people that he knew talking to everyone. Hearing someone settle down next to him, he looked over to see the same guy that he had helped. The guy never said anything just watched on as people grieved. Leading to him doing the same. After a while tears started to silently fall, muttering things like ‘I could have saved him, I should have grabbed him when I got that feeling’. The guy next to him quietly listened to his muttering for a while before finally speaking. “You didn’t know that was going to happen. You want him to live, but think about it the other way, he’d want you to live if he was in your position right now… I can’t exactly tell you how you should live your life now, especially after something like that. But keep going, for his sake.”
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It took him a while to adjust to his new life, and ended up going by the new name Yusuke. He already had anxiety and such from when he lived in his au, but after the incident of his au, his worried and such doubled. He had found out the name of the other him that helped him that day was Nix-Ceto, though he just called him Nix. Nix would often stop by to check on him, which Yusuke appreciated since he was finding it really hard to make friends. He still kept a hold of the pillow and scarf, though he put the scarf in the pillow acting as extra stuffing for the pillow.
After a bit of struggling with life in the Omega Timeline, Nix offered to have Yusuke travel across aus with him, to help aus and such. Which he accepted, wanting to be close to Nix, seeing Nix as his only good friend. Due to their original time traveling together him and Nix became very close, he was able to see a side of Nix that basically no one would see. Which in turn he would try to show Nix more of himself and what he is really like.
After around 2 years of traveling together Yusuke finally decided he wanted to settle down back in the Omega Timeline. He desperately begged Nix to join him, not wanting to be alone really. But Nix decided to keep traveling, but promised that he’d try to stop by whenever he had time.
Yusuke spent a lot of time learning a lot of creative skills such as 3d modeling and such, working remotely from his home in the Omega Timeline, this meant he rarely went out, so he found it really hard to make friends, he wanted to meet more people that were into the same things as him, so would often try to frequent places like café’s/etc with his laptop as he works. But could never meet anyone, because the people who were like him, were inside their houses refusing to leave, unlike him who was trying to make an effort to meet people in his own way. When Nix would stop by he loved it, Nix would often try to introduce him to other people, trying to help Yusuke make friends, and a few people he did manage to keep a friendship with, but for the most part his life is very quiet in the Omega Timeline.
After a few more years passed, he got sick of feeling so lonely, especially with Nix going for longer periods of time. So Next time he saw Nix he asked to begin traveling with him again. Which leads him to current day when he is traveling with what group Nix is currently taking around.
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Yusuke is a relatively chilled out guy who acts sleepy most of the time. He loves to joke around and just chill out and talk with people he gets along with. Despite being rather chill he’s also a crybaby, and can be easily upset, e.g. upset at any form of confrontation. He does try not to cry as much, often trying to hold it in. He feels bad when he makes people worry about him, and will often try to reassure people when he gets upset. He is still a very anxious individual, and can be easily spooked.
When he finds someone he can trust he will often be able to joke around with them, tries to find out people's boundaries when it comes to jokes, doesn’t want to accidentally cross a line. When he befriends someone he will adore them, and will often try to do things for them when he can. If he feels particularly close with someone he’d often hold onto them, only when he feels super okay with them/asks them if they’re okay with it. It takes him a long while to consider someone a close friend. He can be good friends with someone but not see them as a close friend. Depending on the person he’s friends with is depending on how quick he may also see them as a close friend.
His pillow from his au that belonged to his brother is his comfort item, and panics when it's out of his sight. Gets nervous whenever anyone mentions the pillow, or whenever anyone touches it. When he doesn’t have his pillow in his hands he will often hold onto a close friend or his own tail.
Is a fairly observant person, tends to notice things about people, places ,etc. Normally a quiet observer of things going on. Tends to step in and say something if he feels it’s something that needs to be mentioned. Will shake like a leaf if he has to confront someone about something.
Hates being his fur being pet/brushed by someone he doesn’t know/isn’t close with. Will let very few people touch his fur, even less people can brush/take care of his fur. Will slap stuff (like a cat), normally stuff that's in front of him, can tell he's going to slap something when his ears suddenly go back. If someone he doesn’t know/isn’t close to touches him he will also slap right away with no warning, it will be out of panic. Has the agility of a cat/snow leopard, though he never really shows it off really. Will knead on fluffy things, or people he likes/is close too (if they’re okay with it, he will still ask them even if he knows they’re okay with it). Purrs really loudly, almost sounding like an engine he’s that loud.
When he’s in his other form, his ‘snow leopard’ form his personality changes slightly, to be more animalistic. Not fully animal, still with intelligence, but he won’t fully be himself. He’s more likely to run off of animal instinct in this form. Unlike him being passive in his main form, this form tends to be more violent, e.g. instead of getting upset about something he may get mad instead.
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Relationships/ (Friendships/etc) with other characters/thoughts on other characters: (will only write about my own ocs here, or fandom characters. Won’t write about others ocs due to not wanting to mischaracterize them)
Nix-Ceto: Is very close with Nix. Nix is his best friend. He appreciates everything that Nix has done for him, and actively works to at least try to repay Nix’s kindness despite Nix always telling him he doesn’t have to do anything for him. Bases some of his looks off of Nix, e.g. the flame halo to match Nix’s shark halo, and triangles across his design to match with Nix’s triangle theming as well. One of the few people that Yusuke lets touch him/his fur. In term he’s one of the very few people Nix lets touch him as well. Will often joke around with Nix, but knows Nix doesn’t tend to joke around as much with other people there. Will also jokingly flirt with Nix, just because he finds it funny and Nix is fine with it. Will often just yap to Nix, he knows Nix is listening even if it doesn’t look like it. How he knows Nix listens to his yapping is because one time he talked a lot about anime to Nix and then next time he saw Nix, Nix gave him a hoodie based off of an anime he was talking about.
Tanue: Is kinda scared of Tanue, knows Tanue mostly means well, and does sort of get along with Tanue when Tanue is more chilled out. But for the most part he only tires to interact with Tanue when Nix is there. Tanue’s fight-y/loud nature spooks him. But when they do get along Yusuke enjoys the conversations that they have, and Yusuke also enjoys the food that Tanue may make for the group every so often.
#monoart#monos art#art#digital#digital art#undertale au#sans au#undertale sans au#underverse#Yusuke#ref#oc ref#oc reference#reference#utau oc#utoc#utmv oc#utmv sans#utmv au#undertaleau#undertale au fanart#utmv fanart#undertale au oc#undetale oc
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relationships: dick & tim
word count: 6,019
summary:
“I—” Tim recalibrated. Desperately, he scanned Dick’s face—his features blurred over, a wall of nothing; Tim chipped away: “You were a kid, who’ll blame a kid? They won’t hurt anyone again. If you want to, to, to talk to anyone—but it was a long time ago, you’re Nightwing now—”
Tuesday morning: a video was uploaded to one of the deep web black markets. The footage, shot on those grainy vintage camcorders. But Tim knew that boy in the thumbnail; his eyes had memorized him, the heft and shape and dazzle of him, imprinting like an afterimage.
Or: a brother is a witness; there's your tragedy.
::
The apartment had that new-in-town smell: mothballs and desperation. Boxes upon boxes were strewn on the floor. One of them had a dirty plate forgotten on top of it. Old pad thai grease. Armed to the teeth in his full Robin regalia, Tim felt vaguely underdressed in Dick’s kitchen—like there was a speech to do, and he was already forgetting the words.
“Did I lose you again?” Dick said, through a mouthful of his second demolished mango. He was eating them fatherless-style. Dick had been talking about—insurance, maybe. “What’s up?”
Across him, Tim straightened. “Nothing, just.” Mortified, thinking about how I almost spritzed myself with cologne before coming here. What was this, prom? Tim just needed this to go better than last time, was all.
Last time: Tim’s absolute trashfire of a Bludhaven visit; Dick’s rictus of a smile; Dick’s face going bloodless in the half-dark as Tim mentioned Bruce’s adoption offer, absolute god-tier cringe; why’d he do that? It was the same look Dick wore, that first time Tim brandished the original Robin suit from its glass case. Of course Dick disappeared then, all dark and brooding into the night, seeyanara, or never; Tim never could stomach a Never.
He wanted to tell Dick he was working hard to learn it, too—the Bat’s art of Sheer Presence. The way its silhouette inspired awe, stillness. That lately Dick spooked easy, like an animal trying not to be seen. That on nights Tim was almost catatonic with grief, his first half-formed thought was, I want my brother.
Tim said, “It’s not every day you eat scrambled mangoes in Richard Grayson’s apartment.”
“Ever since I saw one of our knife-throwers eat it like this, I always wanted to try it.” Dick picked up a comically large knife and bisected the mango, carving the hairy seed out, before scraping its insides silly. He handed one of the halves to Tim, anointing it with a too-big spoon. Where was this man’s cutlery? “It’s supposed to look like a bowl, then you can walk around eating like that. Neat, huh?”
“Guess so.” Tim accepted Dick’s mango concoction with a smile. Maybe a spoonful, to be polite. Watch and weep, Alfred. “You know, I always wanted to try eating a mango like an apple.”
“Well, we got two left,” Dick snorted, digging into the plastic bag. “Make your dreams come true?”
Do, please. Truth was, Tim daydreamed of it often—no capes, no mission, the solace of a brother only a nightmare-city away, and his quiet balcony. If Tim was lucky, a heart-to-heart. Namely, about the No Good, Very Bad Year he was having.
Same one he was sure Dick was going through now, if only Dick deigned to tell him anything.
“Let’s try it together,” Tim said, conspiratory. “Skin and everything. Sprinkle some seasoning. Alfred would call it… positively diabolical.”
“Oh, I’d move heaven and earth to see that look on that man’s face again.” Dick tipped the mango-bowl into his mouth, then licked his lips with sticky satisfaction. “God. This stuff is top-shelf. Which sunny, tropical island did you pick them from, Tim—the Philippines?”
“Just a freebie. From a grateful citizen.”
Wow, and he was starting to lie to Dick the way he lied to Bruce: with alarmingly little remorse!
The truth: Tim had seen the streetcam footage. Dick Grayson liked to linger longer than normal by that market stall on Hammerstone; stuff was always overpriced, but he stayed for the small talk, exchanging recipes and turning over spotted fruit, face soft with a small secret joy until some goon on busted tires screeched by, or the disembodied voice in his comm summoned him back into the fold—exit Richard Grayson, bereft of mangoes.
“A freebie, huh?” Dick said.
Tim shrugged. “Stopped a mugging on my way here.”
“‘Course you did.”
Tim looked up to see a secret smile on Dick’s face, the dimple deepening. Tim ducked his head—it was always intense when Dick did that, holding your eyes to wait for his words to land. When Dick pushed himself away from the table, Tim was glad to look without being seen.
The scrape on Dick’s elbow matched Batman’s data: Nightwing smashed himself free from a plexiglass wall when it came down on him; there was that wispy patch of petrified-looking hair near his left ear where the flames nearly singed his scalp off. Take a few drunk accidental teenage arsons, a rice cooker, and a wall outlet that hadn’t been maintained since the 80s, and you get a nice, toasty residential building that collapsed in forty minutes. With their training, Nightwing should’ve been in and out in five, tops.
Dick coughed as he groped inside the cupboard. Lung irritation, Tim noted. Possible airway inflammation. Shoddy haircut. Dick must’ve tried to trim the charred split ends. If Tim was there. If Tim had covered his blind spot. If Tim was someone Dick could count on from time to time, maybe.
Maybe.
If, if, if.
“Sorry, haven’t stocked the fridge yet,” Dick said. “Water fine?”
“Yep,” Tim says, popping the P, and looked at the carpet the moment Dick’s stagelight-eyes turned his way. His gaze had scanned Tim with that same cataloging sweep earlier. If Dick noticed the weight of Tim’s Mission, paling him like some kind of sepsis, he said nothing. Tim knew what Dick was trying to do. This polite distance, not quite cold, not quite warm, was a dead sea any man could drown in. Bruce currently was. Dick intended to leave Tim here too, in the rolling distance, where no eyes could follow. Fat fucking chance.
Watch me on the trapeze, Tim, said Dick from the memory; staring from a boy’s impish face; those torch-bright eyes, holding his frightened ones. I’m going to do my act—’specially for you. And Tim had watched. And Tim had never stopped, how could he ever stop?
“So, this friendly visit…” Dick slid him a chipped mug of water. “B asked you to check in, or is this gonna be a regular thing from now?”
“Naw, I was just,” Tim waved vaguely. “around.”
“And you got free mangoes.”
Tim sipped. “Thought I’d share my spoils of war.”
The cold hard truth: Tim needed a reason to see his brother now. A work reason. No one wasted Nightwing’s time. While dodging stilted dinners at the manor and Bruce’s guilt-marred face, Tim had spent the better part of his days turning the adoption offer in his head, plugging a fake uncle into his stage-life, not calling Dick, and tracking transactions in the deep web black markets. He had a lead to a CP ring tied to Gotham’s cluster of orphanages—just more children slipping through Her fingers, with no one to come looking. But Tim was looking now. Ten years too late, maybe, but looking all the same.
Bless Barbara and her detailed surveillance notes. He’d set up the alert as instructed and lost himself in the Styx waters of rote work, wading deep, the world submerged into the dull clack of fingers on a keyboard.
Tuesday morning, a new video was uploaded—the price tag: half a million in crypto.
The preview was fifteen seconds long. The footage, cast in near-darkness, had grain matching those recorded on a point-and-shoot that hadn’t been in the market for at least eight years. JVC VHS-C Camcorder, that was how old it was. But Tim knew that figure in the thumbnail. Canary-yellow cape, bloodied knees and pixie boots. A costume for someone ten apples tall.
Only one Robin was fighting against the affliction that was Gotham in single digits. And Tim would know him; his eyes had memorized him, the heft and shape and dazzle of him, imprinting like an afterimage.
Watch me on the trapeze, Tim.
“Get a visual,” was all Batman said, when he called an hour before. This was a case he didn’t think Batman was even supposed to know about, but Tim didn’t press; that voice, floundering in the undercurrent, was all Bruce. “I’ll take care of things here.”
Lung irritation, Tim thought. Grainy footage. Bruce’s cryptic-as-hell phone call. Charred split ends. Nightwing’s casual suicidal patrols? Yeah, Tim was going to dry-heave across Dick’s apartment floor; the inside of his mouth was all sour, like something gone bad overnight. Dick knew about the leak, but not that Batman and his underperforming Robin were on the case, too. Tim was gonna have to do it again—like his first day at the Cave, digging up the memory of Dick’s ghosts, not letting the damn dead stay dead.
Dick threw a hand towel at Tim’s face with a laugh. “Wipe your mouth, Timmy.”
Nicknames, huh.
If Dick hated him, he was hiding it well. Like a child, Tim obediently cleaned the pulp from his mouth. Then, like a coward: “Could I—bathroom?”
read the rest on ao3
#dick grayson#tim drake#dick and tim#dc#nightwing#my dick & tim thesis the drive to hypervigilantly perform vs the need to dismantle the truth FIGHT#bigdamnher0
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Hate you - chapter 5 - J.JK
Pairings : ex! Jungkook x ex! Reader
Notes : idc abt the word count anymore lmao. i will accept my fate that i could never get those number word counts lmfaoo. the drama is startinggg- oh hasn't it already began?
Genre : Ex2L, angst, slow burn, fake dating, slice of life, fluff, e2l, corporate rivals, smau, smut
Sypnosis : ‘You were always told that hating someone is the only way it doesn’t hurt but what if you can’t hate him? No matter how hard you try your heart will always find it’s way to his’
2 years after breaking up with your boyfriend of 2 years you were finally on your way to become the ceo of your family’s company your rival turns out to be your ex.
Contents/warnings :
Misunderstood break up, insecurities, mentions of self harms or mental health issues, jk is mean at the start, yelling, sensitive language or words, mentions of family trauma, corporate au, smart (both), mentions of yoongi x oc, mentions of cheating, soon to be ceo! Jk, soon to be ceo! Oc, oc is still named Y/n or {__}, corporate rivals?, fake dating, lack of communication, death of a character, mentions of suicide attempt. not proofread
series masterlist
again?
Jungkook's head pounded as he groggily sat up. He rubbed his temples, wincing at the dull ache. Glancing to the side, he noticed a glass of water and a couple of painkillers on the bedside table. Next to them was a note, its familiar handwriting tugging at his heartstrings.
"You should stop drinking and driving fast at midnight. It's bad for your liver and dangerous."
The note was pinned to a picture frame of the two of you, smiling. He traced his fingers over the image, a small, bittersweet smile forming on his lips.
it wasn't just a note. it was you. It was your concern, your voice, your heart. Even now, after everything. At least you were here, even if only for a moment.
He closed his eyes, letting the ache of longing settle in his chest. This—these fleeting moments—were all he could hold onto now.
Reaching for his phone, Jungkook unlocked it, scrolling through social media out of habit. His thumb stopped dead on the screen as a picture appeared: you and Yoongi, cuddled together on a couch. Your head rested on Yoongi's shoulder, his hand gently tangled in your hair as he smiled down at you. The caption was simple but cut deeper than any knife: "Home."
Jungkook clenched his jaw, biting his lip to stifle the wave of emotion surging within him. His fingers trembled as he stared at the photo, regret burning in his chest. That could've been him. No—it should've been him.
If only he had stayed.
But he hadn't. He had his reasons, though none of them felt valid now. He had convinced himself that leaving was the right thing to do. He hated the gnawing insecurity that whispered he'd never be enough for you, that you deserved more than the flawed, broken man he was. He thought he was doing you a favor by walking away, promising himself he'd come back when he was better, stronger—when he was perfect.
But perfection never came. Time passed, and so did his chances. Now, he was left with nothing but the crushing realization that he had only sabotaged himself. You had moved on, found someone who could give you the love and stability he always struggled to provide.
He let out a bitter laugh, though it carried no humor. He was too late.
Running a hand through his hair, he leaned back against the headboard, the phone slipping from his grip onto the bed. His mind was a storm of regrets and what-ifs, but none of them could change the reality staring back at him.
Jungkook's eyes drifted back to the note, his heart aching with a mixture of longing and acceptance. He'd lost you, but at least you were happy. That's all he had ever wanted for you, even if it meant watching from the sidelines as someone else gave you the love he couldn't.
But it didn't make it hurt any less.
Jungkook stood up abruptly, his movements shaky yet determined. His eyes, red from tears and alcohol, found yours in the dim light. Without a word, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. The embrace was warm yet suffocating, filled with desperation.
"Kook- what are you doing?" you asked softly, your voice barely audible against his chest.
"Let me," he whispered, his voice breaking. "Just... let me hold you. For the last time."
His words hit you like a freight train. The 'last time' echoed in your mind, twisting something deep inside you. Hesitantly, you raised your arms, almost letting them encircle him, but before you could decide, your phone buzzed in your pocket, pulling you out of the moment.
The vibration was loud, intrusive, and it broke the fragile bubble you and Jungkook had found yourselves in. You gently pushed against his chest, creating some distance.
"Wait," you mumbled, reaching for your phone. The screen lit up with Yoongi's name. Your heart sank further into the storm of emotions swirling within you.
"Hey, Y/N," Yoongi's familiar, comforting voice came through the line. "Where are you? It's getting late."
"Oh, um..." you stammered, your mind racing for an answer. "I'm at a restaurant right now, eating," you lied, hoping it didn't sound as strained as it felt.
"Really? Are you okay? You sound... different," he asked, concern lacing his tone.
You stole a glance at Jungkook, who was watching you closely, his gaze unreadable but intense. His jaw tightened at the mention of Yoongi's name, but he didn't say a word.
"Yeah, I'm fine," you replied, forcing a nervous laugh. "I'm just tired. I'll, uh, see you soon, okay?"
"Are you sure?" Yoongi pressed, his worry evident.
"I'm sure," you said quickly. "I'll call you later. Gotta go!" Without waiting for his response, you ended the call, shoving your phone back into your pocket.
Jungkook took a hesitant step forward, his hand reaching for yours. "Stay," he whispered, his voice raw and pleading. "i don't understand-"
You looked at him, your throat tightening. His expression was unlike anything you'd seen before—hopeful yet broken, desperate yet resigned.
"Kook..." you began, but you couldn't bring yourself to finish.
"Just this once," he said, his voice trembling. "Stay with me."
Your heart ached at the sight of him, but you knew you couldn't. You couldn't let yourself fall back into the same cycle of heartbreak and pain.
"I'm sorry," you said softly, tears pricking your eyes. Gently, you pulled your hand from his and took a step back.
Jungkook's head bowing as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him. He didn't try to stop you this time. He just stood there, watching as you walked away.
As soon as you were out of sight, the tears you'd been holding back spilled over. You pressed your hand to your mouth, trying to stifle your sobs. You hated how much he still affected you, even after everything
The Next Day
You run your hands through your hair as you waited in the sleek conference room. Today’s meeting was important. a potential collaboration with influential figures in the industry. Securing this deal would not only benefit your company but also solidify your position as a force to be reckoned with in the business world.
You twirled a strand of hair absentmindedly, your mind wandering to the memories of last night. The image of Jungkook’s tear-filled eyes and his broken voice pleading for you to stay was still fresh. Shaking your head, you focused on the present.
The first three representatives had already arrived, exchanging polite greetings and idle chatter as they settled into their seats. You greeted them with a warm smile, but a glance at your watch told you the meeting was running late.
“Where are the last two?” you muttered under your breath, turning to your assistant, who stood nearby.
“I apologize, ma’am,” they whispered. “I wasn’t informed there would be five guests instead of three until this morning.”
You sighed but nodded, waving them off. It wasn’t ideal, but you would manage.
The door opened, and your heart instantly lifted when you saw Yoongi walk in, dressed sharply in a tailored suit. his eyes meets yours, he gave you a subtle smile that sent a wave of reassurance through you..
Behind him came another man. one that made your breath hitch.
Jungkook.
He strode into the room, his black dress shirt perfectly fitted, his expression unreadable, like nothing ever happened last night. His gaze swept across the room until it landed on you.
Your smile faltered, your lips parting slightly in shock as you stared at him. It was like the air had been sucked out of you.
He met your gaze briefly before looking away. He took the seat across from you, and it felt like all eyes were on you now.
Yoongi sat beside him, his expression neutral, though you noticed his jaw tighten for a moment. He glanced at you, his subtle nod urging you to refocus.
Clearing your throat, you forced a polite smile and looked at the group. “O-Okay. Let’s start, shall we?”
You gestured toward your assistant, who quickly connected the presentation slides.
The meeting room had finally emptied, leaving only you and Yoongi. As he adjusted his watch, he turned to you with a slightly apologetic smile.
“I’ve got to rush- urgent family dinner,” he explained, his tone regretful.
You nodded, understanding. “Okay! Tell them I said hi,” you replied with a genuine grin, waving as he turned to leave.
He raised a hand in acknowledgment without looking back, his quick steps taking him out of the building.
You gathered your things and began walking toward the elevator. As you rounded a corner, lost in thought, your heel caught on the edge of the carpet. A gasp escaped your lips as you stumbled forward, bracing for the hard impact of the floor.
But it never came.
Strong arms caught you mid-fall, steadying you. The familiar scent hit you before the voice did.
“You should be more careful, y’know?”
Your heart stopped.
The world seemed to freeze as your eyes darted upward, meeting the face you thought you’d left behind in your mind.
Jungkook.
The murmur of workers broke the moment.
“Isn’t that Ms. Kim and Mr. Jeon?” “Didn’t they break up?” “Are they back together?”
You glanced around, spotting several employees discreetly snapping pictures and whispering amongst themselves. The realization made your blood boil.
Quickly, you pulled away from Jungkook’s grasp, straightening your outfit as you shot him a glare.
His lips curled into an infuriating smirk. “No ‘thank you’?” he teased, his tone as casual as ever.
You rolled your eyes, your irritation boiling over. “Thank you,” you snapped, your voice dripping with sarcasm.
Without waiting for his response, you spun on your heel and walked away, your pace hurried as you headed toward the nearest restroom.
aglist : @crazyovayou @minghaosimp @pitchblack0309 @kpopsmutty69 @junecat18 @primadonnasdream @minimoniminimoni @7lilacpetals @vonvi-blog @jk97bam @kissyfacekoo @baechugff @chuberry22 @nerdycheol @etaernaluvv @kooloveys comment if you wanna join
#rispwr#bts#jungkook ff#bts x reader#jungkook#yoongi#jungkook x reader#bts x y/n#bts x you#bts x fem!reader#bts x oc#fic : hate you
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Hiiii, how's it going??? A few days ago this idea crossed my mind. A reader who is afraid of loud noises (phonophobia) x Alastor. Definitely something comfort. I was curious how he would react. Feel free to ignore this if you are not interested, I know you have tons of requests. ♥️🖤
Yep! I apologize for the long wait! I’ve been so busy! (I am VERY rusty. I havnt wrote since like July 😭)
Alastor x sinner reader with Phonophibia (platonic)
“Too Loud”
It was late afternoon at the hotel and you were sitting at the small bar in the hotel, drinking some of the alcohol left out, trying to drown out the noise of the others. It was..Choatic. Nifty was being nifty, Angel was being loud as usual, Charlie seemed more loud and happier than usual, Husk was getting pissed like usual, pentious was boasting just as loud, and Vaggie was getting ticked off by Angel and Alastor….Probably the only calm one right now
You hated it. You left your home to escape the loud chaotic and overwhelming mess and came to the hotel thinking you’d be safe. Turns out they can be just as crazy. From Charlie always getting into your personal space (which you don’t have the heart to tell her no), to Pentious getting distristful and defensive when you get too close to him or his machines. You just wanted peace. Peace was always on your mind..But then again when did you ever get it? Never. Its hell, nothings peaceful
You could have sworn your head was beating by the chatter, your heart rate increasing, it felt like it would jump out of your chest. It was too much, too loud, too noisy, too much chaos. You could here the light ringing in your ears, the small foggyness in your sight..
While you were in your own little episode, you weren’t aware of the figure approaching you. “Now whats with the frown dear? Don’t you think a smile will make you look more approachable~?”. A familiar radio voice rung out.
You jumped a little in surprise at his usual confident tone and turn to look at him, caught by surprise at his sudden appearance as you calmed down. “Hey Alastor..” You say a little tired, not going unnoticed by the radia demon.
“What’s seems to be the issue dear?”.He asked, looking over at you. He was still pretty intimidating for you, this was the radio demon after all…
“Nothing its just….loud in here” You say and look down at the almost empty glass bottle.
“Loud you say? Well you certiantly arent wrong my dear! At the Hazbin Hotel theres never a sleeping moment!’ He said with confidence as he leaned against the counter,holding his radio staff (right??) in his hands with his usual smile.
“That’s what im worried about…” You say with a tired expression and look back down.
Alasotor looked over at you, keeping his smile but a small ounce of concern, why was he concerned? He’s not use to this, he shouldn’t be concerned for another lowly sinner should he? Maybe its the fact that your one of the few demons that annoy him, maybe its the fact you aren’t loud or sexual, maybe its the fact you respect his personal space. Whatever it was, he liked you, well at least he disliked you less than the others.
“Well then my dear, don’t be afraid to come knocking on my door if it’s too much, my room is the furthest from everyone and I sure would like the company when I’m eating” He reassured with a smile.
You smile back, even if your a little suspicious of why he’s doing this, but having some peace and quiet for the firstime in…how long now? It doesn’t matter right now. “Thanks Alastor…you don’t know how much I appreciate that”. You weren’t sure how this would go…But anything was better than staying in a noisy hotel.
(Sorry I’m so rusty 😭😭😭)
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin alastor#alastor x you#alastor x reader#x reader#small headcannons#oneshots#requests#hazbin lucifer#hazbin charlie#hazbin angel dust#hazbin vaggie#hazbin husk
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list of things i can depend on to make me cry
feathers across the seasons
starscream's confession + sentence at the end of till all are one
shigechi's death in jojos
the director watching allison's last words on repeat until he died
#'starscream confessed. to everything. it took over an hour but no one even tried to stop him.#it was the most shocking act of bravery i had ever seen.'#its 2am its monday and im bawling my eyes out because i accidentally saw that page again#life in prison...... he will always be a caged bird.#he couldnt have ever escaped it#its always 'its never too late to be better' but it always was for him#he never stood a chance#it was never for him its not fair#why not him?#im so sad now. bruh it hurts#why is it too late? what kind of sick fuck said its a good virtue to teach others its never too late to change?#why was he punished for being better? they always said honesty is always rewarded. with what? life in prison?#blah blah blah at least elita didnt become lo-- I DONT CARE!!! I DONT FUCKING CARE#WHY NOT HIM???#im going to cry about it and be sad. shit got me emotional and irrational#illogical even#and the fact that he wasnt stupid. he gave up for a better world#he knew he was going to be straight up executed for it#he changed. why was that not enough??#avo that was enough blah blah blah he got life sentence instead of death#BUT NOT ENOUGH! I HATE IT#im gonna cry myself to sleep#screamer got me fucked up bruh#avo you can solve this by just reading more comi-- NO!!!! >:( NO#this is the reason i only read it once per year#i didnt even read it this year yet#if i ever die unexpectedly i want one of the two ppl who follow me here to have my TC toy and the other to have my megatr*n toy#special instructions for TC. do not sell him and do not give him away to a child. idc about megs he got run over with a car once and hes ok#this comic gonna kill me one day
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(*・ω・*)b♪
#I'm a bit late but :)#Mmmhh lots of thoughts about this episode. Nothing really relevant though lol#I like it... Mostly. Well‚ I like Atsushi‚ and I like Atsushi screentime.#I always forget that there's actually a one week timeskip within the Guild arc#I think these chapters were generally better executed in the manga.#But even then it's just...#Why do the make the Guild / Fitzgerald so. dumb. Why do they make them act so wildly irrationally and at the protagonists' advantage#It really gives villain acting entirely mindlessly to make the plot advance and the heroes win. It's really sensless.#I mean especially when Atsushi yielded. Why didn't Fitzgerald take his offer. For real!!#For real. He had NOTHING to gain from proceeding with his plan. He already obtained for Atsushi and the ada to collaborate.#Now they are NEVER going to help him‚ and that's agreat loss for him.#And idk. i hear that little Tumblr post in my voice saying “why would you complain about characters acting irrationally!#Do people irl never act irrationally?”#And yeah I get Fitzgerald was frustrated for losing Mitchell and his fight with Hawthorne. Okay I understand.#But that's definitely too much. That's him acting downright stupid at the heroes' advantage and it's just pretty underwhelming to read?#That said. It's just general notes I'm not particularly annoyed because like. That's just b/s/d to you. Dumbing down the villains a second–#so the author can escape the trap they put themselves into. Very Marvel-esque move lol.#On that exact same note WHY WOULD LUCY HAVE THE DOLL.#The doll is the whole premise for your plan working why would you not protect it with everything 😭😭😭#I'm not getting in the Lucy / Atsushi scene itself. I love Lucy but I swear every time that scene gets played a femminist dies#(it's me. I'm the femminist dying every time.)#Mmmhh a couple more things. I dislike the ost choice in the scene where Steinbeck is torturing Q it feels so out of place#And I really don't get what's the deal with the Hawthorne / Fitzgerald convo it's so confusing to me. Like it It looks like Hawtorne is–#blaming Fitzgerald for Mitchell's condition (both in health and for her family status) but...#Objectively neither of those things are Fitzgerald's fault? Idk maybe I just have very little media comprehension for this arc because–#a lot of things just seem to happen with no sense. But it's okay#Im complaining a lot lol but its mostly irrelevant things (or like with the dumbification of villains things I've learnt to live with lmao)#But the episode was generally nice. The animation this season is consistently very pretty.#random rambles
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Minor thing that really irks me is when people treat the femc route in p3 portable as like the lesser story or like it’s a fanfic where nothing that happens in it is the “true” canon like. Bitch. The femc and everything that happens in her version of the story is just as canon as the male protagonist and everything that happens in his story. And there’s literally been so many fucking versions of p3 at this point like the base game, fes, portable, the movies, stage plays, reload, as well as spinoffs and manga and they all do things differently. I don’t see anyone acting like the base game is more canon than, say, reload so why do they do this with portable? Why can’t the (infinitely superior) version with the female protagonist just be respected for five fucking minutes goddamn
#persona#persona 3#kotone shiomi#its the misogyny yay#but god i am so tired of her game being treated as not actually canon like it literally is#theres multiple canons dipshit there is no true version of this game#and also people saying she doesnt fit the theme or some shit like. she literally does??? and honestly she does it better#like you can really feel the love she brings to the group and how she gives everything life and helps everyone#but also just how it all comes with pain she smiles and befriends everyone but shes always been so deeply alone and she doesnt want anyone#to feel the pain shes felt and so she carries all those burdens on her own and when everyone goes to reach out for her#its too late far too late shed sacrifice herself over and over for these people and theyll never once see her cry#she also you know. actually has good social links and gets to know everyone not just people she wants fuck#so you get to see just infinitely better versions of every character with her she really does bring out the best in them#and another thing in particular with the disrespect of her story is the way shinji living is treated again just like#some kinda fanfic au by someone who didnt wanna cope with their blorbo dying like ughh#shinji surviving is just as canon as him dying there is an entire canon where he gets a happy ending and it is once again#much better than versions where he dies like ive. exhausted myself with explaining it but its just better#so yeah basically out of spite i like acting like kotones story is actually the one true canon#and when people mention stuff that isnt in her story im like ‘huh? what? that didnt happen’#cuz whos gonna stop me
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goodnight gamers!
#ash rambles 💚#it's been a pretty solid day! i didnt do much other than play j.udgment for hours straight tbh#and hey. I'm fine with that#I've had a lot on my mind as of late with just life and everything being pretty nuts so I'm glad to have that escape#i hope everyone is doing good#one day I'll organize this blog more and write some more fanfic also#... one day- i know i've said that time and time before#yawwwnnsss I'm so sleepy.. its about 1am rn so I'm about to snooze. just got to chapter uhhhh 8 of the game 👍🏽#something thats been on my mind a lot as of late is that i spend a lot of time supporting and writing shit for other peoples f/os and ships#which is great. it's awesome. it makes me happy. whenever i write these things there is never a doubt in my mind that the character LOVES#the shipper. when i say theyre soulmates i wholeheartedly mean that from the bottom of my heart. yet it's only when i write my own shit that#i get all insecure about it. especially in the case of my dearest husband since I really do just love him so much. i never do allow myself#that same grace huh? i never let myself be loved despite how i am towards my selfshipper friends#it's just been something that's been on my mind lately and it's something I'm trying to get better at. sometimes it's just hard to believe#that they really do feel the same. I adore these characters so much it makes my heart ache. that kind of love doesnt always come easy#okay now I'm just sleepy rambling#feel free to ignore this LMAAAOO#i am literally half asleep rn#gn gamers! sleep good! or good morning too if that applies#I'm gonna go fantasize about my husband + some y.akuza crushes and knock tf out#goodnighty!
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when you've had a ship for years that no one in your (possibly) dead fandom knows or heard of or even thought of and you're starved for content on them cause they're like so separated from the fandom in your head now
is this just me
#im mostly talking about#sanders sides#and my ship remus x remy#I JUST THINK THEYD FIT PERFECTLY OKAY#Anxiety and Remy work too by keeping up at night for way too long on worrying topics#but... Remus and Remy....#theyre ying and yang in my mind. Remy is calm and sleepy with morbid curiosity his mind always drearily wandering#and Remus is#Remus. always coming up with horrible ideas and Remy just kinda indulges in them#at the end of the night Remus wants to go out ajd actually execute his ideas and Remy grabs him by the collar like#nuh uh uh. its late. we need to sleep. maybe in the morning#and then they sleep and Remus never does his evil plans#its perfect yk#its cute I think theyre cute#ive also ended up seperating them next to completely from Thomas which yk is a good thing to me cause never been a fan of#self cest so the more individual they are the better to me#very weird characters to attatch to and apply my own headcanons to but I am cringe and free shut up
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when yr having fun with yr dad but remember he doesnt respect young people or women and will never fully see you as a person
#was just bitching about how this guy is texting me a lot and was told by a friend that i TRUST#that he does this to 5 or 6 people at once#im like damn i wish he didnt send me 4 messages and get all sad ant with bindle if i dont reply in 15 mins#and MY DAD FUCKING DEFENDED THIS GUY IVE NEVER MET OVER ME JUST BECAUSE HE MIGHT BE ROMANTICALLY INTERESTED IN ME???#then i was like ohhh he doesnt believe anything im telling him because im under 35 and thinks its getting too late for me to not have a bf#< ive had 3 girlfriends is whats ironic#but my dad had to be reminded of the guys name TODAY but still would rather defend this. alright man 👍#i brought this up to him at one point where i was like i wish you didnt treat me as too hysterical to listen to#DO WE KNOW WHAT THIS MF SAID. 'well you were being hysterical back there 🙄'#LMAOOOOOOOIDONOTRESPECTYOU#say it with me. i am always and unequivocally better than anyone who would judge a 16 year old for things out of their control#if yr reading this you are too 🫶🫶
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my mom is the best person in this household and she is the best person in this whole fucking family and im sick of people acting like its otherwise
#ive never met a person who has made more sacrifices than her#my aunts and my grandma made her life absolute hell and my dad never believed her and blamed her for ripping our family apart#he only believed her when he heard it straight from his sister in laws' mouth. HIS SISTER IN LAW. NOT HIS WIFE.#my dad's sisters are constantly shitting on her. constantly constantly constantly and he never thinks theres anything wrong with it#because shes from a 'lower' family and because what right does she ever have over his siblings who have bullied him his whole life#it makes no fucking sense how he can side with these people over his own wife. what kind of husband are you#and my mom has done infinitely more for my brother than my dad but somehow my brother finds blame for her for every single thing#if there is a problem like the lights going out EVEN IF MY MOM ISNT FUCKING HOME my brother will find a way to blame her for it#because everything is a womans fault. if she makes him late to school once he wont talk to her for weeks disregarding all the times he made#her late for work and made her work until 9 in the fucking night to make up for it#and if my dad ever does the same thing? oh its not his fault 😐#these people are all the worst hypocrites#everybody has their flaws. my mom surely has flaws too. but who are you people to act this way to your wife. to your mother.#someone who has sacrificed for you over and over and over again and continues to suffer because of you but still does things for you without#complaint#my mom's mother is sick and was so close to dying these past few weeks. alhamdullilah shes doing better now#but my dad did not call my nani or my mom's siblings once. NOT ONCE. never asked about her. never did anything#and then when my mom had enough and called him out on not being there for family he yelled at her for being crazy and unreasonable#but if this were any of my dad's siblings and my mom didnt call hed throw an absolute fit 'oh youre horrible you dont even think of family?'#my mom is somehow always the scapegoat for every single problem. if my dad drives recklessly and breaks smth in the car#and then my brother drives the car he will blame my mom for breaking the car because women are always horrible drivers#if my dad leaves the lights on and the bulbs stop working my brother will blame my mom#if my brother does something horrible my dad will say my mom is the reason hes grown up this way#DISREGARDING THAT HE HIMSELF ENABLES MY BROTHERS BEHAVIOR.#im so sick of this family im sick of their hypocrisy. my mom is the best person theyll ever meet AND THEY KNOW IT#if i could be even half the person my mom is i would not have the problems i do now#aricouldyounot
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stupid in love - psh (m)
this work contains smut - minors please do not interact
pairing. best friend!sunghoon x fem!reader
synopsis. One night early on in your summer vacation, your best friend Sunghoon admits that his biggest anxiety about starting college is going there as a virgin - one thing leads to another, and you end up learning a few things from each other. The more time passes, the more obvious it becomes that your feelings for each other surpass friendship, but with the end of summer looming over your heads, it's hard to tell where these newfound emotions will lead you.
genre. best friends/childhood friends 2 lovers, summer au, lots of fluff and smut but also some angst to spice things up, when i say smut i mean LOTS of smut. like mostly smut lol (mutual first time, ice play, crazy stuff)
word count. 22.1k
a/n. bringing this one back from the pits of my google docs guys.. its been so long since i've posted anything and im not sure when the new hoon fic will be ready so i thought i'd repost an og asahicore fic!!! the title was originally 'hot like ice' but i changed it bc this is my blog and i do what i want <3 i'd also like to say that in terms of plot this is probably not something i would write nowadays, it's very smut-heavy and thats not what im about now idk i was crazy back then... but i rmb being happy w this fic and its reception when i first posted it so i'm happy to have it back on my blog and hope u guys will like it too <3 as always lmk what u think!!
It all started with a lollipop. Well, two, to be exact. One strawberry-flavored, one apple-flavored.
You stand in front of your friend, lollipops in hand. “Which one do you want, Hoon?”
“I don’t mind, just pick whichever one you like best,” he replies absent-mindedly, eyes on the TV as he tries to find a suitable movie for this late summer afternoon.
You plop down on the couch next to him and look at the two lollipops in your hands, unable to decide which flavor you like better. “I don’t know what I feel like right now,” you announce to an uninterested Sunghoon. “I’ll just try both.”
That seems to catch your best friend’s attention. He watches as you unwrap both candies, tasting each once, twice, then as you decide you want the apple-flavored lollipop and hand him the strawberry-flavored one. He doesn’t take his eyes off of your lips as you wrap them and swirl your tongue around the candy, letting its sweetness wash over your taste buds. You raise your eyebrows when you notice his staring and he blinks a couple times, trying to snap himself out of it. “Did you want the other one?” you ask, confused by his behavior.
“N-no, I like strawberry,” he stammers, turning his gaze back to the screen in front of you and settling for ‘When Harry Met Sally,’ a movie you’ve both seen a thousand times but never get bored of.
You’re used to Sunghoon getting lost in his thoughts, so you don’t question it much. You sit back on the couch, your knee touching his. You two are no strangers to a little skinship - after being friends for almost eight years, physical contact comes naturally. You have to admit that recently, it’s started to feel different; but the idea of your friendship changing tugs at your heartstrings so much that you ignore the prickles on your skin when he hugs you or the way your stomach flips when he smiles at you, dimples and sharp canines on display. You tell yourself it’s all stupid and that you can handle so much as your knees touching.
Sunghoon, on the other hand, can't. The lollipop in his mouth right now was in yours mere moments ago and you’d given it to him like sharing saliva was no big deal. He feels like a thirteen year-old for thinking like this, but this was pretty much an indirect kiss.
He stares at the TV screen, but all he can see are your perfect lips sucking that lollipop, and his mind is desperately not trying to go there, but he just cannot help himself. Blood rushes to his dick as he pictures your mouth around him, sucking him off with as much enthusiasm as you are the lollipop. Would you like his taste? Would you look up at him with those pretty eyes of yours, smiling even with his dick stuffed in your mouth?
His own thoughts catch him off guard, and before they can get any wilder, he runs off to the bathroom, knowing he’d never live it down if you caught a glimpse of his erection. Thankfully, you don’t, and you call after him, asking if he wants you to pause the movie, to which he shouts back a strangled ‘no.’
He comes back ten minutes later, face flushed and breath heavy. “Goddamn, Hoon, I know we’re best friends, but if you’re going to dump a massive load, I wished you did it in your own bathroom and not mine,” you tease him, laughing as his face gets even redder and he opens his mouth to protest.
“I was just on my phone!” he replies, mildly offended.
“Whatever,” you say, still laughing, and turn your attention back to the movie.
Well. Sunghoon would rather have you think he just took a huge shit than have you know he came to the idea of you sucking him off and swallowing every last drop of his cum.
--
A few days later, you and Sunghoon are lying on his bed, the both of you on your backs, talking about this and that as you often do. It’s almost 3 a.m., and it feels almost rebellious, being up this late after months of waking up at 6, but your high school graduation was a week ago and you feel like you can do anything. The dim fairy lights you forced him to put up and the bright moon outside are the only sources of light in the room, and when you turn to look at him, you can just make out the outline of his face, the curve of his nose, the sharpness of his jaw. You've looked at him a thousand times before, so your memory makes up for what the light takes away from your eyes. You shift to lying on your stomach, propping yourself up on your elbows so you can take a better look at your friend. Something about the moonlight makes him look ethereal, and his beauty makes your heart skip a beat, but you’d never admit that to him. Out of habit, you reach out to touch his moles, gently placing your middle finger on his nose and your pointer finger on his cheek. Sunghoon closes his eyes at your touch, used to the warm feeling that settles in his stomach whenever you do that.
“Y/N?” he calls out, just as you pull your fingers away from his moles.
“Yeah?”
He opens his eyes again, meeting yours. “Is there anything you’re scared of for next year? You know, heading off to college and all that?” You shift again and lie on your back, the sides of your two bodies touching. You stare at the ceiling for a while, thinking about his question, and Sunghoon patiently waits for your answer.
“I’m scared about not making friends. I’m not the least outgoing person ever, but it’s so intimidating, not knowing anyone. And it’ll be weird not having you around. Shut up,” you warn before he can make an egotistical remark, so he just chuckles. “I’m also worried about the amount of work I’ll have. I’ve heard so many times that it’s a huge step-up from high school, the workload and the type of work and all that. What if I don’t even like the degree that I chose? I know I can change it, but it still stresses me out. Turning 18 doesn’t feel like a huge deal, but going to college does. It’s when all the responsibility hits. My mom told me to make my own doctor’s appointment the other day, and I almost cried when I had to call them. I’m not gonna have anyone to do my groceries for me. I’m scared I might get an awful roommate. I hate the idea of communal showers. I don’t even know what I want to do after college, and I know I have four years to make up my mind, but I’m scared those four years are gonna flash by and I’ll be indebted and unemployed by the end of it.” You pause to take a breath, and you can feel Sunghoon’s eyes on the sides of your face, but he doesn’t say anything. “Also, I heard that you put on a lot of weight during your freshman year.”
You turn to look at him to find him smiling at you. “Wow. That’s a lot.”
The two of you giggle, eyes not leaving the other’s. After a moment, you turn your gaze back to the ceiling and sigh. “Yeah, I know. But I’m more excited than I am scared. What about you?”
Sunghoon follows your gaze and looks up above him. He doesn’t say anything for a while, and when he finally speaks up, he says it so quietly, you almost don’t hear it. “I’m scared of going to college a virgin.”
You try to stay serious for a few seconds, but you can’t keep your laughter in and snort loudly at your friend’s words, laughing so hard your stomach starts to hurt.
“Don’t make fun of me!” he whines, hands coming up to cover his face.
It takes you a while to calm down; not only was Sunghoon’s statement ridiculous, it was so unexpected that you couldn’t stop laughing. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you apologize, catching your breath. “I just can’t believe that that’s what you’re scared of, of all things.”
“What? It’s a perfectly reasonable concern,” he defends himself.
“Nobody’s gonna care if you’re a virgin, Hoon,” you try to reason with him, but if there is one thing your best friend is, it’s stubborn.
“I’m gonna care! What if I like a girl but I can’t bring myself to make a move on her ‘cause I have no experience?”
“But Hoon, chances are she doesn’t have a lot more experience than you do! She’ll be the same age we are, dummy. We’re not sixteen year-olds jumping into a world of twenty year-olds. Sure, some people have their first time in high school, but a lot do it at university. You’ll be fine,” you reassure. His furrowed eyebrows and pout tell you he’s not fully convinced, though.
“Oh, c’mon! If you really want to lose your virginity before leaving, we can get you laid during the summer. I’m sure we can find a girl nice enough,” you tease, jokingly patting his bicep, trying not to make a note of how firm the skin feels under your hand.
Sunghoon sighs, and you can tell he’s actually taking this seriously. “I’m not that desperate that I’d have sex with the first girl that agrees, you know. I’d still rather do it with someone…” He glances at you for just a second. “Someone I trust.”
You feel your face heat up at the possible meaning behind his words, so you look away, not wanting him to see the effect they had on you. He changes his position on the bed, and now it’s his turn to prop himself up on his elbows and look down at you.
“What about you, Y/N? Don’t you think it’d be good to get a bit of experience before going off to college? It’ll be one less thing to stress about,” he says, a small smirk playing on his lips, and his shy demeanor from moments prior is completely gone. Out of fear that his ego would get even bigger, you'd never tell him, but you love it when he gets like that - when he thinks he’s the shit and teases you mercilessly. You know he does it lightheartedly, and it never fails to bring a smile to your face.
Except right now it does. You’re not smiling, far from it; you’re looking up at your best friend, mouth slightly agape and wide eyes searching for a sign that he may be just joking. He raises an eyebrow expectantly, and your reaction is to scoff at him.
“Do I need to remind you that you’re the reason I have no experience to begin with, Park Sunghoon?” you ask, sitting up on the bed to peer down at him. He shifts again and lays on his back, his hands coming up behind his head as he beams at you.
“Am I really?”
You wish you could slap that shit-eating grin off of his face. This is not the first time you're having this conversation. “Yes, Hoon. Every time a guy was even remotely interested in me, you chased them away. I’m still not over you telling Kang Taehyun I have smelly feet! I had a huge crush on that guy!”
Sunghoon loudly laughs at the memory, and you curse yourself for cracking a smile when you see his face scrunched in laughter. “That was in Year 5, Y/N! It’s been years!”
You grab a pillow and throw it at his head, unable to not laugh along with him. “What about Bang Yedam, then? That was only last year, and you totally ruined my chances with him!”
“Listen, if you having a creepy doll collection is enough to make him not ask you out, then he must not have liked you that much.”
“But I don’t have a creepy doll collection! That’s the whole point!” you say, on the brink of desperation. You sigh at your friend who’s still catching his breath from laughing so much. “You’re just lucky they didn’t repeat your bullshit to anyone. I would’ve had such a weird reputation otherwise.”
“Of course they didn’t. I told them I’d kill them if they did,” he stated matter-of-factly, as if that was a normal and appropriate thing to do.
“Couldn’t you have threatened them that way so they wouldn’t ask me out instead of lying to them about me?”
Sunghoon stares at you for a few seconds, eyes seemingly empty of thought. “Huh. Yeah, I guess I could’ve done that.”
“Ugh,” you groan, and plop down on the bed next to him. Neither of you says anything for some time, until you break the silence again. “You know you even stole my first kiss, Hoon,” you speak softly.
“I know,” he says, voice just as quiet as yours. “You never shut up about it.”
“Why would I? I was about to kiss Lee Heeseung, of all people, the boy everybody, including me, had a crush on, but no, someone had to get between us and kiss me in his stead,” you grumble, giving your friend a harsh side-eye.
Sunghoon sighs and shakes his head as if you’re being irrational. “I don’t get why you’re so hung-up on that. Why would you want your first kiss to be because of a middle-school party dare rather than have it with your best friend, whom you know and trust?”
“It was Lee Heeseung, for God’s sake!”
“And I’m Park Sunghoon!”
Still both laying on your backs, you turn your heads to look at each other. There’s something in his eyes you’ve never seen before that you can’t quite put your finger on. The person in front of you is one you’ve known for years now and yet the look in his eyes is of such unfamiliar intensity that it makes your stomach flip. You inhale sharply when his eyes drift down to your lips, and you can’t help but mirror his actions. The atmosphere has flipped like a light switch; it was playful just mere seconds ago, the sound of your usual banter filling up the room. All of a sudden, there’s something heavy dancing in the air around you, and it makes your heart skip a bit faster and your breath a bit shallower.
Your voice is barely above a whisper when you say his name.
“Yeah?” His eyes snap back up to yours, but you're still stuck on his lips. Have they always looked so kissable?
“Why did you do that? Why did you push those boys away from me?” you ask, even though you’ve asked this question a thousand times before. You want to hear his answer again.
“I’ve already told you. You deserved better than them.” Whenever you ask him about it, Sunghoon always stops here, and you never push. But there are unspoken words left hanging that you’re dying to hear.
“Who, then? Who’d be better than them?”
He's quiet for a second. “It’s a secret,” he whispers finally, a small smirk teasing his lips, and you roll your eyes at him. But then your eyes meet again and your breath hitches. You shift to your side so you can face him more fully, and he mirrors your actions.
It’s his turn to say your name. “Y/N?”
“Yeah?”
“Have you kissed anyone since?” he asks, coming off shyer than he’d intended to.
You giggle and smack his shoulder lightly. “Why do you wanna know?”
He snickers too and, to your surprise, stops your fist from hitting him a second time, enveloping his larger hand around yours and laying it between the two of you on the bed. “Cause I should know that sorta thing. Also, if you did kiss someone since then, and I didn’t know about it, I'd be upset.”
“Why would you be mad?” you say, still giggling, trying to ignore the way your heartbeat quickens when he threads your fingers with his.
“Because you wouldn’t have told me!”
“Well…”
“No way, Y/N,” he practically shouts, already feeling betrayed, his free hand coming up to grip his heart in fake shock.
“Let me at least finish first,” you protest. He obliges, although he doesn't look very happy about it. “You know that summer 2 years ago I went away to camp?”
“Yeah, worst summer ever.”
“Well, I did sort of… get with someone, that summer,” you say, avoiding Sunghoon’s wide eyes as he gasps loudly.
“What? Who with? How come you didn't tell me?” he exclaims, letting go of your hand. He sits up on the bed and crosses his arms over his chest like an annoyed child.
“Because of this exactly.”
“What’s this?”
“Your reaction right now!” you say, sitting up as well, both of your knees grazing his. The simple touch sends a shiver down your spine that you can only hope he takes no notice of.
“Wouldn’t you be a bit upset if I told you I ‘got with’,” he air-quotes, “a random girl two years ago?”
“No? Especially not if it was two years ago?”
You both look just as confused as the other, obviously not on the same wavelength. He furrows his eyebrows and glares at you. “Well, I am.”
You throw your head back in laughter and place your hands on his knees, but when you come forward again, you overestimate the distance between the both of you and find yourself mere inches from his face. The laughter immediately dies in your throat, and you feel it go dry when your stunned reaction elicits a smirk from him. You don’t know how long you stare into his eyes, all you know is you snap out of it when his gaze drifts down to your lips once more. You’re closer now than you were before, and having him so close makes your mind spin with all the possible outcomes of such proximity. You lean back on the bed, pulling away your hands from his knees to hold yourself up on them.
“There’s no reason to,” you say, hoping that breaking the silence will dissipate some of the tension in the air. You keep going back and forth between familiar and dangerous and you don’t know how long you’ll be able to handle that atmosphere. “It’s not like anything grand happened. We made out a bit and held hands. We never spoke after that summer, otherwise you’d have known about it.”
Sunghoon lets out a low hum. His eyes are still trained on yours, and you wished he’d look away because you can’t seem to do it yourself. He still doesn’t say anything, so you speak up again. “You say that like you’ve never had girlfriends, by the way. Surely you’ve done more than just kissing.” Silence again, and you can’t decipher the look he’s giving you. “So, I don’t know what you’re so scared about, because it’s not like you have zero experience. I’m sure the girls at uni will love you, Hoon.”
He sighs and finally tears his eyes away from yours, and you’re not sure if you’re seeing things because of how dark and late it is or if there’s an actual blush creeping on his cheeks. “Sure, I’ve had a couple girlfriends, but you know they’ve never lasted long,” he says, looking down at his lap. “We made out… I guess I-” he gives you a quick glance, “I’ve touched their boobs and they’ve touched my… you know…”
You can’t help but giggle at how shy your friend is suddenly being. “Can’t even say the word ‘penis’, Hoon?,” you tease, and his eyes snap back up at yours.
“Of course I can. Penis! There.” You look at each other for a few seconds before bursting into laughter, Sunghoon hushing you so you don’t wake up his parents, but his hushes are louder than your laugh. After a couple minutes, you calm down and wipe your tears away, grateful for the break in the tension between you and Sunghoon.
“Anyway, yeah, I guess I don’t have that much experience. Which is why I brought it up in the first place.” And just as quickly as it’d left, the tension is back again.
You look around the room because the weight of Sunghoon’s gaze on your face is unbearable. You release a shaky breath when you feel his gentle hand on your knee, and your eyes drift to it, but you can’t get yourself to look him straight in the eyes.
“Don’t you think it’d be good to get experience before leaving for college, Y/N?” he asks, and you can tell he’s trying to sound confident, but his voice comes out breathier and shakier than he must intend it to.
“I don’t know… I don’t think it’s necessary,” you say, eyes still trained on his hand resting on your knee. He squeezes it a bit, making you finally look up at him. Is it just you, or did the room get hotter all of a sudden?
“Not everything you do has to be out of necessity, you know.”
The both of you stare at each other for a few moments. This shift in your relationship was bound to happen; you’d been feeling it more and more recently. You didn’t use to think twice about Sunghoon taking your hand in his, nor did you feel those stupid butterflies eating away at your stomach every time his gaze lingered for a second too long. You’d tried to reason with yourself that it was just teenage hormones doing their stupid job, and that you were doomed to feel some kind of attraction for your extremely handsome best friend at some point in your life, but that if you ignored it hard and long enough it would go away.
Well, now that Sunghoon’s lips are barely inches away from yours and your skin is on fire under his hand, it definitely isn’t going away.
“What would you do if I kissed you?” Sunghoon asks, eyes fluttering down to your lips. You think he’s looked at your lips more than the rest of your face in the past hour.
“I’d slap you,” you lie, gaze mirroring his.
“Would you really?” he says, and your hesitation makes him smirk slightly.
“No,” you breathe out, and it’s the answer he’s been waiting for, the answer he needs to finally press his soft lips against yours.
You don’t even have the time to savor the moment, though, because the warmth of his lips is gone as quickly as it came. He pulls back, a surprised look in his eyes, as if he can’t believe what he just did. The tension above you breaks and rains down on you like small pieces of confetti that settle comfortably on your head and shoulders. There’s a knot in your stomach but instead of twisting your insides in nervousness, it feels warm and makes you giddy for what’s to come next. Sunghoon’s surprised expression transforms into a grin at the sound of your laughter, and he can’t help but chuckle along with you.
You scooch closer to him, and his other hand comes to rest on your second knee. You can tell he’s not going to do much more, so you lean in bit by bit, and peck him softly on the lips. You both giggle again and you blame the fact that you want to feel his lips on yours again on the late hour of the night. You peck his lips once, twice more, giggling inbetween, but when you peck them a third time, he doesn’t let you pull away and keeps his lips on yours. The sudden added strength takes you aback, but it doesn’t take you long to yield to his touch and kiss him back.
Sunghoon moves his lips slowly against yours and it’s surprisingly easy to fall into his rhythm. You don’t have the most experience with kissing, but something about doing it with your best friend reassures you and your whole body relaxes as you focus on the feeling of his lips moving in cadence with yours. The knot in your stomach stays there and tightens when his hands ride up your thighs and settle on your hips, holding you snugly there. You’re only wearing shorts and his palms against your bare skin make you release a shaky breath in Sunghoon’s mouth. You pull back for a bit, surprised at your own reaction, but nothing has prepared you for the way your best friend looks at you.
His pupils are dilated, dark; his glossed-over eyes bore right into yours. Your breath was already shallow from the kiss, but it’s his gaze that renders you completely breathless. Sunghoon tightens his grip on your hips and leans in for more, but you put a hand on his chest to stop him, making his eyes snap back into focus.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, Y/N. I don’t know what took over me. Are you okay?” he asks, as short of breath as you are, but worry laced in his voice.
“No- Yes- I mean, yes, I’m fine, everything’s fine, I just-” you shake your head, trying to gather your thoughts. “I’m just…”
“Tell me. You can tell me,” he says, rubbing gentle circles into your hips with his thumb, and the unfamiliar yet intimate gesture makes it even harder to concentrate.
“We- we’re best friends, right?” you ask, voice trembling, You ask, even though you know the answer, just because you’re afraid the line the two of you have just crossed is already miles behind you, and you won’t be able to retrace your steps.
“Yeah, of course we are,” Sunghoon reassures, head tilting to the side in confusion.
“And best friends… Do they… Well, it’s normal for best friends to kiss, right?” you say, trying to calm the overpowering urge to kiss him again.
Sunghoon chuckles and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I don’t know about that, Y/N.”
“Oh,” you breathe.
Sunghoon quickly catches on to your hesitation. “But who cares about what best friends usually do and don’t do?” he says, holding your face between his hands to make you look up at him. “I liked kissing you, just now. I really, really liked it,” he admits, red dusting his cheeks. “Did you?”
You nod, too shy to put just how much you enjoyed kissing Sunghoon into words. “Do you want to do it again?” he asks and chuckles when you nod again, eyes already on his lips. This time, you don’t stop him when he leans in and let him press his lips to yours again. His words have reassured you and you sigh into his mouth, making him smile into the kiss.
His hands ride up a bit and settle on your waist, bringing you a bit closer to him, and you circle your arms around his neck. The shyness of the first kiss is completely gone, and you’re both gaining more and more confidence, letting everything go and focusing solely on where your bodies meet. He tilts his head, deepening the kiss, and you push your body onto his, a sudden need to feel him against you, to feel his strong arms encaging you.
You pull away at the same time to catch your breaths, smiling at each other when you see how lustful the other’s expression is. Sunghoon’s eyes have glossed over once more, and you’re sure yours have too. “C’mere,” he whispers, beckoning you to him. You climb onto his lap, one knee on each side of his hips. “Is this okay?” he asks, but you don’t answer, you just lean in and kiss him again, holding his face in your hand as his hands roam your back over the thin fabric of your t-shirt. Your kisses are curious, the both of you trying to figure out what feels best as you tilt your heads from one side to the other and let your inquisitive hands travel each other’s bodies. Yours find purchase in his hair, and you revel in the sighs that escape his lips whenever you pull and tug at the strands.
As the kiss gets hungrier and needier, his hands fall down to your lower back, and then to your ass. He just cups it for a while, but after a few moments, grabs it harder and brings you close to him, making your core rub against the hardness that had been building in his sweatpants for a while now. The friction is unexpected and you can’t help the loud moan leaving your lips at the feeling. It’s a feeling you know from your own hand in the privacy of your dark room, but Sunghoon making you feel that way is so foreign that it snaps you out of the daze you’re in.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, was that too much?” Sunghoon scrambles for words, but you’re already pulling away, and he doesn’t know what to do to keep you close.
You sit back on the bed, holding your knees close to your chest. You look at your best friend in front of you who’s looking at you with a worried expression. Something in you craves to reach a hand out to him, to feel his cheeks and jawline under your palms again, to find out if he’d shiver at your touch and if goosebumps would form on his skin. He’s been your best friend for eight years, and you’ve always thought you knew everything about him, the same way he’s supposed to know everything about you. But you realize in this moment that there are things you don’t yet know, melodies to be discovered, treasures to be unearthed. Your fingertips are burning to find them all.
The sound of your name resonates inside your mind and it takes you everything not to fall back on him again. You furrow your eyebrows, confused by all those things you’re feeling. What was it that just took over you, that lit your insides up so?
You straighten your back suddenly and take in your surroundings. Sunghoon’s room is still the same old room you’ve always known, the same blue walls, the same posters he only ever changes when he finds a new interest and lets go of an old one. The same pictures from when you were 10, 12, 15, recent ones now that you’re 18; the same figure skating trophies and medals on his shelves. You turn to look at your best friend. The same soft, round cheeks contrasted by a sharp jaw; the same almond eyes, round with worry at your sudden movement away from him; the same two moles you’ve always found so comforting, for some reason. You almost reach out to touch them, to give you some sense of balance, to reassure you that things aren’t changing as much as it feels like they are. But you’re scared electricity might fry your fingers if you touch him right now. You’re scared you won’t be able to take your fingers off of him, no matter how much it stings. His face is the same as always before, but there’s something else to it, something you could probably figure out if you spent more than three seconds thinking about it, but you’re not sure you want to figure it out.
“Is everything okay? Did- Did I do something wrong?” he asks, voice laced with concern.
Before he can put a reassuring hand on your knee, you get off of the bed, and hurriedly say, “No. I just- I think I should go home.” You look everywhere but at him.
He sits up at your words, concern turned into confusion. “It’s 3 a.m., Y/N, why do you want to go home all of a sudden? You’ve stayed over plenty of times before.”
“I know, I just…” you trail off, trying to come up with an excuse. “I’ve got cramps. I think my period’s coming,” you lie. It’s better than whatever truth is threatening to bubble up.
“Oh. Right.” He scooches a bit, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Is there anything- like- can I do anything?” He sighs, steadies himself. “You don’t have to go, is what I’m trying to say.”
A few months ago, when you had finally wrapped your head around the fact that your best friend was an attractive man and that he made you feel things friends weren’t supposed to make you feel, you’d told yourself it was all just a phase that would pass soon. But feelings this strong surely cannot go away that easily.
You take a deep breath in and tear your eyes away from him. “I think I should go home,” you repeat. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Hoon.”
You turn around and start walking away, but Sunghoon is quick on his feet and stops you from going out the door. “Do you actually have cramps? Or are you just scared that our friendship might change?” He sounds out of breath, like asking this question is taking him all of his energy.
You avert his gaze and try to push past him, but he’s much stronger than you. Puberty sure played its trick on him. You sigh and look down at your feet. “I’m tired, Hoon, let’s talk about it tomorrow.”
But if there is one thing your best friend is, it’s stubborn. “I don’t wanna talk about it tomorrow. I wanna talk about it now. Did it feel nice?” he asks, and his resolute tone of voice makes you look up at him.
“I- I mean-”
“Y/N,” he starts, wrapping his arms around you and leaning in a bit, his familiar scent filling your nostrils. You have to close your eyes. “Answer me. Did it feel good?”
“Yes,” you answer without thinking.
“Is that why you’re scared?”
“Yes.” Your eyes flutter open when you feel his fingers graze your cheek. He leans in again and traps your kiss in a much softer and intimate kiss that makes your head spin and your thoughts cloud. Before you can get carried away, you pull away again, and ignore how beautiful he looks when his eyes stay closed for a couple of seconds longer. He only opens them once you tell him once again you should go home, that you need some time to think.
“Let me at least walk you there. It’s dark,” he pleads, his grip on your waist still tight.
“Hoon, I live right next door, I’ll be fine.” You let him kiss you once more and he makes you promise to call or text him tomorrow.
When you leave, Sunghoon plops back down on his bed, arm resting on his forehead as he plays back the events of the night. Had he done something wrong? Something that made you want to get as far away from him as quickly as possible? He’d tried to be gentle and to make sure you were okay with everything, but he couldn’t help but get carried away when he heard those sweet sighs of yours. He thought he was going to combust when he heard you moan, and he wanted to hear it over and over again, but you’d jumped from him like he’d told you he had killed someone.
He hopes you were telling the truth when you said you were just scared about your friendship changing. He hadn’t wanted to push and get you to stay; he knew it was weird, seeing each other in a different light all at once. He wasn’t completely oblivious; he’d felt that same shift in your relationship those past few months, just like you had, although you’d never spoken about it to each other. He knew he could never go back to seeing you as just a friend when he’d jerked off one day and you were all he could think of. He kept imagining the sounds you’d make and the way your hands would feel on him, and he’d gotten so close to getting that today, but he must’ve fucked something up and now his chances were ruined. He curses himself for letting you slip through his fingers just when he thought he finally had you.
You don’t get a wink of sleep that night. Your mind is reeling with everything that happened in Sunghoon’s room. Your fingers unconsciously keep coming up to touch your lips and feel the ghost of his touch there. Your skin turns hot at the simple thought of how perfect his lips had felt against yours, and you toss and turn in your bed as you consider what might’ve been, had you stayed with Sunghoon.
But it’s all happening too quickly, and even though you’ve been curious in more ways than one about your best friend for the past few months, you hadn’t expected to kiss him and to enjoy it so much on a random summer night. Your thoughts only seem to calm down and your eyes finally close just as the sun starts to rise.
--
The next day, Sunghoon wakes up in the early hours of the afternoon and checks his phone right away. A couple of notifications, but nothing from you. A text from Jake in their group chat with Jay asking to hang out at Sunghoon’s pool, to which he replies that they can come whenever. He taps a quick one out in the shower, memories of your scent and your lips on his getting him to finish quicker than he’d like to admit. He’s in the middle of a late breakfast when Jake and Jay spawn at his door, swimming trunks already on. Still nothing from you.
It doesn’t take Jay and Jake long to figure out that something is up with their best friend. It’s not like he does much usually, but today especially, he makes no effort to entertain them. He laughs at their jokes, but it feels like he laughs because he hears other people laughing rather than because he genuinely finds them funny. He barely even reacts when the inflatable pool ball hits him right in the face.
His friends don’t say anything until they’re all seated at a table by the pool, sipping on some ice-cold Coke. The air is still warm but the sun is low in the sky, hidden behind the house. Sunghoon is still lost in his thoughts, unblinking eyes fixed on a random point in the distance. Jay and Jake exchange a look before the former breaks the silence.
“Is everything alright, Hoon? You look out of it today.”
Jay’s voice brings him back to the here and now, and his eyes jump back and forth between his two friends who are looking at him expectantly. “Huh? Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just tired. I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night,” he says, leaving some of the truth out, but his friends know him better than he gives them credit for.
“Are you sure? I feel like there’s something you’re not telling us. You usually act like a little bitch when you’re tired, you don’t get all…,” Jake shakes his hand in front of his face, “distant like that.”
Sunghoon bites his lip, debating whether he should tell his friends about you or not. No matter how stupid they may be, they also know both of you quite well, so they might prove not completely useless, he thinks.
“Y/N and I kissed last night.”
It’s almost comical, how Jay and Jake bring their head forward in astonishment, how wide their mouth gets, how their eyes look like they might pop out of their sockets, and how they say “You what?!” at the same time. On a normal day, Sunghoon would've laughed.
“We kissed,” Sunghoon repeats, eyes drifting down to the ground in front of him as he rubs his neck in embarrassment.
“Fucking finally!” Jay exclaims.
“Told you it was gonna happen. No way you two were going to stay just besties forever,” Jake teases, punching Sunghoon in the arm. “How was it?”
Sunghoon sighs and leans back in his chair, letting his head hang back. “Really fucking amazing,” he chuckles. His friends holler for him, snickering like 12-year old boys who just saw a hot girl walk past.
“God, I saw this coming from miles away. I don’t know why you kept on insisting nothing was gonna happen between you two,” Jake says, beaming.
“I really didn’t think anything would… I just… Started seeing her differently recently, I guess.” Sunghoon shrugs, sheepishly smiling to himself.
“So, what happened? Did you guys just kiss or…?” Jay asks, raising his eyebrows suggestively. Jake giggles at the insinuation of sex but has a curious glint in his eyes when he waits for Sunghoon’s answer.
“Yeah, um, we just kissed cause she- she sort of ran away?” Sunghoon admits, wincing at the recollection.
“You what?!” Chaeyong’s voice rings out in the food court of the mall where you’re currently sitting, halfway through your strawberry milkshake.
“Keep it down, would you?!” you scold her, smiling apologetically to the people staring at you and your friend.
“If it was so good, why the hell did you run away, Y/N?”
“I just- I don’t know… Freaked out, I guess…” you mumble, cowering under the harsh look she gives you.
“Well, have you talked since?” You don’t reply, just guiltily avoid her gaze. “Y/N!”
“I know, I know! I just… don’t know what to do. ‘Hey, nice making out with you last night, bit weird since we’ve been best friends since we were 11, but that’s fine, right?’ Ugh! That’s so stupid,” you complain, flopping back in your chair.
“That’s exactly what you should say. Going MIA on him will just make things weirder. Plus you’ve never gone more than 24 hours without speaking so one of you will eventually cave in. It should be you,” she says, looking at you with a raised eyebrow as she takes a sip from her milkshake.
You scoff when she gives you a ‘you know I’m right’ look. “I’ll think about it on the way home and text him. There.”
And you do think about it on the way home; but you don’t get the opportunity to send the text, because as soon as you get off the bus at the stop right across from your house, you see Sunghoon sitting on the bench of your porch, looking around nervously and rubbing his hands on his denim shorts. You chuckle to yourself; who knew he got so distressed from not speaking to you for a day?
He stands up when he sees you approaching and raises his hand in a quick wave. “Hi, Hoon,” you greet, and you can feel his whole body relax when you hug him. So, you don’t hate him, he thinks. You sit down on the bench together. “Sorry I didn’t text you. I didn’t know what to say after… last night,” you admit, hugging your knees to your chest as you sit facing him.
“Yeah, I figured,” he chuckles, smiling shyly at you. “I was scared you’d never want to see me again.”
You look at him with wide eyes, mildly offended, and punch his arm. “How could you think that?!”
“Well, you did sort of run away from me last night,” he says, lightly punching your arm in return.
You tut in defeat. “I did, didn’t I?”
“Yeah. I’m just glad you didn’t walk past me straight into your house just now.”
You chuckle and rest your head on top of your knees. “That would’ve been a bit much, even for me.”
Sunghoon lets out a puff of air through his nose in response, and then the two of you sit in silence. You’re contemplating what to do next when your friend pulls you from your thoughts. “Should we, um…” He shuts his eyes tightly in reflection for a second before opening them again and looking straight at you. “Should we just pretend like last night didn’t happen? Would that make you feel more comfortable?”
His words take you aback and your eyes widen a bit; you hadn’t even thought pretending nothing happened last night was an option, because you didn’t think you’d ever be able to actually get it out of your head. Even now, if you stare at Sunghoon for too long, your gaze will naturally drift downwards or you’ll get a flashback of his large hands around your waist. But apparently, if he can offer to pretend like the previous night wasn’t a thing, then it must not have been such a huge deal to him. You quickly try to hide your disappointment and nod at your friend. “Right. Yeah. Sure.”
Silence makes its way between you two again. It makes the late afternoon breeze a bit chillier and the physical distance between you and Sunghoon feel much bigger than it actually is. Wanting it to go away quickly, you ask, “Do you wanna watch a movie, then?”
Sunghoon’s never looked so relieved about watching a movie, and he immediately accepts your offer. You get some popcorn ready while he searches for a movie to watch. He clicks on a horror movie that looks like it’s got a cliché storyline and awful acting, but you’re happy for any sort of distraction when Sunghoon is sitting so close to you.
You and Sunghoon always sit close-by when you watch something together, knees and shoulders brushing against each other. Tonight isn’t any different, except that your skin burns everywhere it touches his. You can smell the faint scent of chlorine in his hair, and it’s so intoxicating you want to bury your face there and breathe it in.
You’re thirty minutes into the movie and still nothing’s happened when Sunghoon puts his arm around you, letting his hand hang over your shoulder. The sudden warm contact makes you take a sharp intake of breath as memories of the previous night come flooding once again. You don’t know what you were expecting, but Sunghoon simply rests his hand there and doesn’t do anything more for another thirty minutes, except for squeezing your shoulder when there’s a small jumpscare, making you chuckle at him. This isn’t much more than what you’re used to with him, but knowing your friend, he must be thinking the ball is in your court. So you scooch a bit closer into his side and rest your head on his shoulder, the scent of his skin even stronger now that your nose is so close to his neck. You feel his chest raise and relax as he sighs deeply and tightens his hold around your shoulders. His small reactions to you spur you on and you decide to wrap an arm around his waist and you feel him flinch oh-so-slightly at your touch in such a sensitive spot. He starts to rub circles into your shoulder and rests his head on top of yours, and your whole body relaxes into his. This is so much more than what you’re used to with him; and yet, you so readily melt under his touch.
You can barely focus on the movie because of how close Sunghoon is. When a particularly scary ghost jumps on the screen, you flinch and hide your face in his neck, and he giggles at your reaction, hand coming up to stroke your hair comfortingly. It only takes you a few seconds to realize what position you’re in, and you release a shaky breath as you slowly lift your head towards Sunghoon, only to find him already looking at you, seemingly having had that same realization. When his eyes drift down to your lips, you know you’re done for.
You call out his name, and he’s already answered ‘Yes?’ before you’ve had time to finish uttering the second syllable. “I don’t think I want to pretend last night never happened,” you admit, holding his waist a bit tighter.
“Good. Me neither,” he breathes out before leaning down and trapping your lips in his, the kiss releasing all your pent-up frustration of the day. The world seems to melt away with his lips on yours, the movie already long forgotten. Sunghoon pulls you into his lap and you slide your palms up from his waist, against his chest and to his shoulders before wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing your body closer to his. His hands are sitting on your hips, fingers lightly pressing into them and your lower back. Now that you both seem to know what you want, it’s so easy, just falling into this kiss.
His tongue darts out to lick your bottom lip and you gladly open your mouth for him, letting his tongue explore it. You haven’t kissed someone like this in ages, maybe ever, but Sunghoon takes the lead and effortlessly gets you to follow his rhythm. When a flick of his tongue against yours feels particularly nice, you arch your back and press your chest into his, making him smirk into the kiss. This time, when he brings your hips down onto his, letting you feel his erection against your clothed core, the feeling doesn’t make you want to run away; instead, you want to feel it again and again.
You fall into a nice pace of rubbing yourself against him, eliciting hushed moans and loud breaths from the both of you. You can’t concentrate on kissing him and grinding down on him at the same time, so you drop your head down to bury your face in his neck, leaving a few pecks there but mostly moaning against his skin, enjoying how your hot breaths make him shiver.
You can’t keep a whine from escaping your lips when he bucks his hip into yours and his tip brushes directly against your covered clit, instantly bringing a hand up to your mouth. “Fuck, Y/N,” he breathes. “I know we gotta keep quiet ‘cause of your parents but the sounds you’re making are so fucking pretty. I wanna hear them over and over again.” His words make you whimper against his neck and you feel your slick starting to pool in your panties.
“H-hoon. This feels so good,” you moan, breathing warmly against the shell of his ear.
“I know, right? Feels so good,” he chuckles, hands grabbing at your ass to bring you harder down onto him. His actions are about to elicit another moan from you when, all of a sudden, a loud jumpscare in the movie makes you jump away from the boy underneath you and yelp in fear, which in turn makes him scream in surprise. You look at each other, panting and eyes open wide, hands clutching at your hearts, until you burst into laughter. The fun moment is short-lived, however, as your mom rushes down the stairs not ten seconds later, frantically asking if everything is alright.
You sit up straight at the sight of your mother and clear your throat. You’re thankful for the dark of the room which hides your and Sunghoon’s swollen lips and flushed faces from her view. “Sorry, mom, we were just watching a scary movie. We’re fine.” She sleepily nods and walks back up the stairs, and when she’s back in her room, Sunghoon and you exchange a look and erupt into another fit of smaller, quieter giggles.
That night, after Sunghoon’s gone home, the both of you get yourselves off in your own beds, the strong memory of each other’s lips and hands bringing you both to your releases. Without even realizing it, you moan out Sunghoon’s name as your orgasm hits. The window from your room doesn’t face his; but still, your heart is beating so loudly that you’re afraid the sound might carry from your open window to his. You get up and close it.
--
Now that you and Sunghoon both know you want to kiss each other, you do it everywhere: in his pool, his back pressed against the wall; on the sunchairs when you were supposed to be drying off; on your beds in the middle of the night, none of your parents or siblings suspicious of anything; in front of your house, because even though he was supposed to just walk you home, he couldn’t keep himself from tasting you one last time; in the backseat of his car after an evening with your friends and he drove you two home.
You spend a good two weeks of just kissing before your body starts to crave something more. At some point, Sunghoon’s hands resting nicely on your waist or sometimes, if he’s feeling bold, grabbing at your ass, start to not be enough anymore. You knew you wouldn’t be satisfied with just kisses and sweet touches when one day, his hands slowly but surely slid up your naked belly before grabbing onto your bikini-clad breast, lighting your whole body up on fire. He’d slipped his hand underneath your swimming top and rolled your nipple between two fingers and you had felt his dick twitch under your core when you let out a loud moan at the new yet so pleasurable feeling.
You know what it is that you want, but it makes you feel dirty. Your fingers have made you finish a hundred times before, but wanting Sunghoon to make you feel that way is a whole other story. Is that even what he wants? Would he be weirded out if you asked him about it? Is there even the sliver of a chance that maybe, just maybe, he has those same thoughts about you, and wants you to make him feel good as much as he wants to make you feel good?
If his grunts and the way he ruts into you when your make-out sessions get particularly steamy are any indication, then the answer to those questions would respectively be yes, no, and yes.
You’re lying on a sunbed one afternoon, letting the sun dry off your wet skin from the pool, when you finally muster the courage to tell Sunghoon about your wishes. After all, he is your best friend, and you know you can talk to him about anything. Even when that ‘anything’ involves his fingers inside of you and his dick in your mouth.
“Sunghoon?” you call out, turning your head to look at your best friend. He’s bathing in the sunlight without a care in the world. His skin has tanned a bit since summer started three weeks ago and his muscles are even more defined after all that swimming and working out he’s been doing. You want to reach out a hand, to feel the taut skin of his abs and chest under your palms, and to maybe then slide your hand down until you feel his hard-on underneath his swimming trunks. Your chairs aren’t far apart and you could do it from where you are, but you’d rather ask him first.
“Yeah?” he answers without turning towards you.
You take a deep breath in before you start talking again. “You know how you said it could be good for us to get… experience before going to college… And how we’ve been kissing these past couple weeks…”
“Yeah, I know,” he chuckles.
“Well… people do more than just kissing, right?” you ask, voice slightly shaky. This seems to pique his interest as he turns to look at you.
“Yeah?”
You hope you’re not just imagining the enthusiastic tone in his voice. “I think… I think we should try that too, don’t you think?” you ask, eyes not leaving his as he sits up on his chair and turns his knees towards you, fully facing you now.
“Yeah, I agree. I completely agree.” He stares at you for a few moments as if in disbelief. “Do you want to- Should we- Let’s go up to my room, yeah?” he offers, standing up and reaching his hand out to you. You gladly take it.
You and Sunghoon are a giggling mess as you practically run up the stairs, unable to get to his room quick enough. As soon as the door is closed behind you, you wrap your arms around each other, your lips finding his immediately as he walks you back to his bed. When you feel the back of your knees hit it, you detach yourself from him and lay on it, elbows holding you up as you look up at him expectantly.
“Fuck,” he whispers, leaning in to hover over you. He traps your lips in a short but sweet kiss before pulling back and murmuring against your lips, “Have I ever told you how pretty you are, Y/N?”
You beam at his words but decide to tease anyway. “You always go on and on about how pretty you are, but never about me.”
He giggles and pecks your lips again. “Well, I’m telling you now. You’re gorgeous.” You kiss him to hide your flustered face, pulling him so close to you he’s practically laying on top of you. Your hands are a bit more curious than usual, your kisses hungrier, the both of you anticipating what’s to come.
You grind against each other, the feeling of his erection against your barely covered core enough to send your mind into a frenzy. You forget everything around you when you feel Sunghoon pull back in the slightest, far enough so that he can look at your face and gauge your reactions but not too much that you still feel his hot breath on your lips. One of his hands is holding the back of your head as the other travels downwards, stopping for a second on your breast to massage it lightly before continuing its journey. It ever-so-slightly brushes against your core, making you buck your hips up into his touch, but his hand is already gone leaving you whining and pouting and him chuckling at your cute reaction. “You want it that bad, huh?” he teases.
You scoff, not wanting to let your friend know the effect he has on you. You press your palm against his clothed erection and he hisses at the unexpected contact. “So do you, Hoon.”
When he presses his lips to yours again, you both smile into the kiss. You cup his jaw and tangle your fingers through his hair, and his hand slips from under your head and joins his other hand on your thigh, grabbing at both of them, fingers slightly digging in your skin. He’s so, so close to where you want him most, and he seems to have noticed your growing impatience by the way you squirm underneath him. Seeing you so needy for him only makes him needier for you; he has more experience than you, so you probably expect him to take the lead, but the truth is, he has no idea what the fuck he’s doing.
“Y/N?” he murmurs, face buried in your neck as he leaves a trail of wet kisses there.
“Yeah?”
“What do you want me to do?”
The question takes you a bit by surprise. You pull away to look at your friend. His eyes are completely glossed-over, and yours are probably the same. “Oh. I don’t know. I just… want you to touch me, I guess,” you say, voice a bit quiet.
“I don’t know how to do that,” he admits sheepishly. He kisses your neck and cheeks before pecking your lips. “Could you- could you show me? How you do it? And I can show you how I do it?”
You take a second to take his words in. Was he suggesting that you touch yourself in front of him, and that he do the same?
This was like a dream come true.
“Yeah, sure.”
Sunghoon giggles in response, and you can’t help but crack a smile too, even though the idea of getting yourself off in front of your friend, no matter how appealing, is still a bit nerve-wracking. “You first,” he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and you roll your eyes at him.
You sit back against the headboard of the bed and slip a hand underneath your swim bottom, the other hand coming up to cover your eyes in an attempt to escape Sunghoon’s heavy, lustful gaze. “None of that. I wanna see you,” he says, pulling your hand away from your eyes and resting it on a pillow next to you. “And if you keep these on, I won’t be able to see anything,” he says, looking down at your bikini top.
Before you can protest, he comes to sit on his knees in front of you, kissing your neck and letting his hands roam your back. “I wanna see all of you.” It’s so easy, untying your string bikini, he almost thinks you wore it on purpose for him to take it off. You avoid his gaze as he takes your top off of you, leaving you half-naked in front of him. “So pretty,” he whispers, and you can’t help but look at him, slick pooling between your legs from the fascination he’s looking at your breasts with. He trails kisses down your neck until he reaches them, taking a nipple in his mouth and swirling his tongue around it, then looks up to see your reaction. You never knew your nipples were this sensitive, and you can’t help but arch your back at his touch and moan loudly, hand flying up to tug at his soft hair. He releases your nipple with a pop and moves sideways to pay the same attention to the other one, but Sunghoon is impatient and doesn’t waste too much time on it; he knows he can come back to your boobs later anyway. Right now, you’ve got a hand between your legs, and that’s what he’s dying to see.
“Can I take this off, too?” he asks, looking up at you as his fingers hook on the sides of your swimming bottoms, waiting for you to nod. His eyes don’t leave your glistening core as he pulls the thin fabric down your legs, discarding it somewhere on the floor of his room. He lays on his belly and kisses the inside of your knee as he holds your thighs in his large hands, still transfixed by your pussy when he says, “Show me how you do it, please.”
You both take a sharp breath in when you start moving two fingers in gentle circles over your clit, already wet from making out with Sunghoon. Your fingers are nimble and know exactly what to do after years of doing this, but the pulse in your core is even stronger now that your best friend is watching your movements this intently. He looks like he’s scared to blink in case he might miss something. You can’t take your eyes off of his face; you’ve never seen him so fascinated by something, so eager to learn. It makes you want to put on a show for him.
A surge of confidence hits you out of nowhere as you slide your digits down your folds, gathering some slick before sliding them back up to your clit and rubbing it a bit faster, a bit harder, your moans growing louder and higher in pitch. With your free hand, you tug at the base of Sunghoon’s hair and make him look up at you. You release his hair and bring your pointer finger up to your mouth, sucking on it and swirling your tongue around it, and Sunghoon’s mind is taken back to that day a couple weeks ago when you had sucked on those lollipops. Oh, how things have changed since then. Not that he’s complaining. “Fuck, that’s hot,” he breathes out, eyes zeroed in on your lips and mouth slightly agape.
You smirk at his reaction, stomach on fire with the feeling of having this kind of power on him. When you’ve wet your finger enough, you bring it down to your slit, circling around your hole before entering it, releasing a loud moan for good measure. Sunghoon is mesmerized by the quickening with which your finger slips in and out of you, the fingers on your clit never relenting. He doesn’t even realize he’s released one of your thighs to palm himself over his shorts until you notice it yourself and tut in disapproval.
“Come and help me, Hoon,” you say, and the boy snaps out of his daze at the sound of his nickname. He nods slowly, changing his position so that he’s laying between your legs, head dangerously close to your core. You slip your other finger out of your hole and he takes that as a sign to replace it with his own. One hand still gripping your thigh, he imitates your previous actions as he gets his pointer finger wet with his saliva before pressing it between your folds, right underneath your clit where your fingers are still rubbing circles, sliding it down towards your slit, and finally pushing it in.
“So warm… So wet, too,” he whispers in wonder, making you cover your eyes with your forearm out of shyness.
“Oh my God,” you moan, arching your back and letting your head drop to the side on the pillow. Sunghoon’s finger is much thicker and longer than your own, and it stretches you out and hits a deep spot inside you you never could, no matter how much you tried.
“Like this?” he asks, eyes curious as they bounce back and forth between your face and your entrance sucking his finger in.
“Yes, yes, just like that, you can also- oh- you can also curve it upwards a bit- fuck, yeah, just like that, Hoon, you’re doing so well,” you say, the praises just flying out of your mouth.
This seems to instill some confidence in him, as he cocks an eyebrow at you and speeds up his actions. “Yeah? My finger making you feel good, Y/N?”
“Oh, shut up,” you bite back, but immediately let out a long whine when he easily inserts a second finger in your soaking pussy. He curves them inside you just like you told him to, and the feeling of his fingers filling you up and your own quick ones on your clit are creating a familiar knot in your stomach that is so close to breaking. That is, until Sunghoon pulls your wrist away from your clit.
“Y/N… Can I?” he asks, and you’re not sure what he’s planning, but nod anyway. He wastes no time before pressing his tongue flat down on the sensitive bud, and you actually feel like your soul might leave your body. Fingers knuckle-deep inside you, he licks and sucks at your clit, and the warmth of his tongue against your folds is what makes you tumble over the edge, tightly gripping his hair and bucking your hips into his mouth.
“Oh my God… Oh my God, Hoon, please, don’t stop, please,” you beg, voice getting higher and whinier as you cum all over his tongue. He continues eating you out until it gets too much and you have to tell him to stop. He hikes his body up yours, pecking you sweetly on the lips when he reaches them.
“Your turn,” you announce and hook your legs over his hips to straddle him. You’re about to lean in for a kiss when you notice how lovingly he’s looking at you: his eyes are soft and a small smile is playing on his lips. It takes you aback, but you’d be lying if you said butterflies didn’t spread in your stomach. “W-why are you looking at me like that?”
His grin gets a bit wider. “Did I make you feel good?”
“Y-yeah…,” you admit, averting your gaze from him.
“I’m glad. You taste good, by the way. Sweet.” You want to kiss the devilish smirk off of his face.
You scoff at your friend, glaring a bit. “Whatever. Sit up,” you order, but it just makes him smirk more.
“Yes, ma’am.”
You look up at him to check for confirmation, and when he nods, you hook your fingers under his swimming trunks, taking them off of him along with his boxers underneath. His already fully-hard cock springs free and slaps against his stomach, and you curse yourself for your reaction that will surely just inflate his ego, as if it wasn’t already massive. Your mouth hangs open, eyes zeroing in on his length, flushed red from lack of attention and what you can only guess is precum leaking at the tip. It's straight from a porno.
“Like what you see?” Sunghoon teases, making you look up at him, and you can only stupidly nod. You take the position he was in earlier, laying your head on his thigh and caressing the other, letting it ride up to rub his inner thigh and the tiniest bit over his cock, making his smirk vanish as he takes a shaky breath in.
“Show me how you do it,” you say, echoing his words from earlier. He gulps, finally realizing that he was going to have to masturbate in front of your curious eyes just as you had. He spits on his open palm and spreads the precum over his length with his thumb, lubing himself up before gripping the base and starting to move his hand up and down. You watch as his head falls back against the pillow when his palm grazes over his tip and his movements pick up some speed.
You rub his palms over his thighs, itching to get closer to his cock and make him feel as good as he had done to you earlier. Tentatively, you reach out to grab his balls in your hands, massaging them softly, feeling satisfied when a loud moan leaves his throat. “Oh, f-fuck, that feels good, Y/N,” he breathes out, voice much higher than you’re used to. If he thought that felt good, then nothing could’ve prepared him for the feeling of your soft and warm tongue kitty-licking his balls, then taking turns sucking each one into your mouth and releasing them with a pop. “Where the fuck did you learn how to do that?” he asks, involuntarily bucking his hips into your face.
You can’t help but giggle, and Sunghoon thinks he might come from the sweet sound contrasted with your lewd actions alone. “I read a lot of fanfiction,” you explain, and he doesn’t question it. If Wattpad taught you how to suck dick, then so be it.
You wrap your hand around his and tell him to keep going so you can get an idea of what pace and movements he likes, and you graze your fingernails over his abs and chest with your other hand, chuckling at how sensitive he is when you lightly pinch his nipples. Sunghoon takes his hand off of himself, laying both of his hands palms up next to him on the bed, so you decide to literally take things into your own hands. Trying to recreate what he did before, you spit into your palm and wrap your fingers around his tip, bringing your hand down in a swirly motion to the base of his shaft. You do that a few times, asking, “Like that?” to get confirmation from Sunghoon.
“Just like that, baby,” he says, not even taking notice of the pet name; but you do, and your face immediately flushes, surprised at how much you like it.
“Baby?” you repeat, but he’s too lost in his pleasure and just hums in response. His reaction eggs you on, and you lick a long stripe from his base to his tip, swirling your tongue around it and humming at the bitter but not unpleasant taste of precum there. When another moan escapes his throat, you take his tip in your mouth, at first just shallowly thrusting your head, but then trying to take more and more of him.
You’re so focused on what you’re doing that you don’t even realize how quickly he’s panting and how his grunts start to get whinier until he’s moaning out your name. “A-ah, Y/N, feels so good, ‘m gonna cum, fuck-”
He goes silent as he shoots his release down your throat, eyebrows deeply furrowed and mouth open wide in pleasure. There’s so much of it and you can’t swallow it all, so you pull your head back, catching your breath, and a hot string of cum hits your chin and your throat. Sunghoon takes a look at you and the sight of you with some of his cum makes his dick twitch before he plops back down on the bed. You giggle as you take tissues from the bedside table (cause of course he’s got tissues next to his bed) and wipe away his seed, then lie down next to him, brushing away the hair that’s sticking to his forehead with sweat and peppering his face with soft kisses.
He opens his eyes and smiles, turning his head to look at you before engulfing you in a bear hug, sweaty bodies sticking together but neither of you minding it. “That was so good, Y/N. What the fuck,” he sighs, pecking your forehead.
You hum, nuzzling your nose into his neck. “I know, right? Who knew you could use your mouth for other things than saying stupid shit,” you tease.
He pulls back and gives you a look that tries to be stern, but you know he’s joking. “Do I need to remind you again, young lady?”
You giggle and peck his lips, forcing him out of character as his dimples appear on his cheeks. “Later, definitely.”
And after that day, he makes sure to remind you time and time again of how good his mouth feels on you. You should’ve seen it coming with how amazing of a kisser he was; but truly, there was nothing like cumming on your friend’s tongue.
--
You’re relieved to find that not much has changed, after all; you and Sunghoon still play around in the pool, watch stupid movies and hang out with your friends like always. Sure, there are stray hands here and there, or looks that last a little too long and mean a little too much, but if anything, it just makes your friendship more playful and exciting.
You’re both open with what you like and don’t like, so it doesn’t take either of you to figure out exactly how to make the other come undone embarrassingly quickly. (The shortest amount of time it took him was 2:38 seconds - yes, he timed it - and he hasn’t let you live it down since.) You like it when he presses his large hand down onto your lower tummy while he eats you out, or when he sits you between his legs and whispers all sorts of things as his fingers work their magic inside you and on your clit. He likes it when you get down on your knees in front of him and look up at him as you suck him dry, or when you sit in his lap and kiss his neck and play with his hair while he plays video games. And don’t even get him started on when you palmed him over his sweatpants while you watched a movie with Chaeyong, Jay and Jake, making sure that the movements under the blanket went unnoticed by them. He wanted to punish you after they left, he really did, but you took him in your mouth right there in the living room and gave him an orgasm that had his thighs shaking for five minutes afterwards. You were pretty proud of yourself for that one.
You also find out that he hates it when you tease and edge him, which only makes you do it more; the only problem is that, if you do that, he’ll make you ride his thigh and won’t help you at all. His proud smirk and snide praises combined with the feeling of his thick thigh underneath your core were more than enough to get you to your end, though.
And truly, nothing has changed, especially not Sunghoon’s special talent in pushing boys away from you.
“What do you mean, Lee Heeseung is coming back?” he heatedly asks, slamming his glass of lemonade down on the outdoor table so hard you’re scared it might break.
“It’s the summer, of course he’s coming back. He just stayed behind for a bit to enjoy a few weeks of the city without college, and now he’s coming back here,” Jake explains, shrugging.
“Do you know when he’ll be here?” you ask, far too much excitement in your voice to Sunghoon’s taste.
“Just in a couple days.”
Sunghoon has smoke coming out of his ears when he sees how much you perk up at the news of your old crush being back in town for summer. He likes the boy, but he hates that you like him. And since Heeseung is friends with Jay, Jake, and by association Sunghoon, begrudgingly so, he’ll definitely see lots of him in the upcoming months. And if Sunghoon sees Heeseung, then you’ll see Heeseung, too. And that, Sunghoon doesn’t like.
You notice something is off with him that afternoon because of how uncharacteristically quiet he is. Sunghoon, ever the loud introvert, is always arguing for no reason and laughing louder than everybody around him. So when he merely chuckles at his friends’ numerous displays of stupidity in the pool and doesn’t even say anything in protest to you getting on Jake’s shoulders to play against Chaeyoung and Jay, you know something is definitely up. You also have a good idea of what that something might be, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find it endearing.
You stay behind when your friends leave in the early evening. Without a word, you and Sunghoon pack away the inflatable toys in the pool cabin and clean up the table, putting the dirty glasses in the sink. You do the dishes while he prepares sandwiches for the two of you, which he insisted on doing after he heard your stomach grumbling. You watch the latest Kurtis Conner video as you eat and can’t help but notice that he doesn’t even chuckle at any of the jokes or skits when he’d usually be clutching his stomach in laughter.
When you’re done eating, you take a resolute breath and pause the video, but Sunghoon doesn’t even notice, only snapping out of his daze when you call out his name.
“Huh?” When his eyes find you, he almost looks surprised to see you, as if he’d forgotten you were there.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” you ask, slightly frowning. “You look so out of it today.”
“Huh? I’m fine, nothing’s wrong,” he says dismissively and presses play, but you quickly pause the video again.
“I’m your best friend, Sunghoon, I know when something’s the matter and I know when you’re lying. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but don’t pretend everything’s fine when we both know that’s not true.”
He peers at you for a moment, cursing you for knowing him so well. He crosses his arm and averts his gaze, pouting like an angry child. “I hate it when you’re right.”
You giggle and make your way around the counter to him, standing inbetween his legs and wrapping your arms around his neck to make him look up at you. His hands come naturally up to your waist. “I just…” he starts, then immediately stops himself with a sigh., “You’ve always had a crush on Heeseung. But these are our last couple months together, and I don’t want somebody else taking up your attention…”
He buries his face between your breasts to hide his blush, and you can’t help but giggle again. “Stop laughing at me!” he protests, but the muffled sound of his voice just makes you laugh more. You stroke his hair and press a gentle kiss at the top of his head.
“Sure, I’m happy Heeseung’s coming back. But there’s no one I’d rather spend my summer with than you, Sunghoon, you should know that.” He leans back to look up at you with puppy eyes and a small pout. You cup his face, admiring how cute he looks like this, and smile softly down at him.
“Really?”
“Really,” you answer, and he leans in for a kiss.
It’s a soft one. It’s a patient kiss, neither of you urging to get somewhere else, to do something more. It reminds you of that kiss in his room a few weeks ago, when you were still curious and discovering each other. From then on, your kisses had become more feverish, more eager, more playful. But now, you’re taking your time. For now at least, neither of you is going anywhere. So your lips melt together slowly, and when you take breaks to breathe, you look each other in the eyes and smile before leaning back in.
It’s when you sigh against his lips, eyes still closed as you pull away, that it hits him. I could do this forever, he thinks.
I could sit here with my arms around her waist and her lips against mine and the smell of chlorine and the sound of her laugh forever and I’d never get tired of it, he thinks, but immediately afterwards, he realizes he won’t get to do this forever. Summer will end, you’ll both head off to college, and you’ll only get to see each other every few months until another summer comes. And who knows what might happen until then?
You might meet someone and realize Sunghoon isn’t all that; hell, he might meet someone, but he highly doubts anyone could even come close to the way you make him feel.
“Hello? Earth to Sunghoon?” you quietly joke, looking down at him with an affectionate look in your eyes. You press the pads of your fingers to his two moles before replacing your fingers with your lips, giving each one a quick peck. “You were up on the moon for a minute there.”
Sunghoon hums softly, smiling as he lets himself melt under your touch. “Sorry. It’s just really hot, isn’t it?” he says, a stupid excuse he uses as a blanket to cover his feelings. There is some sweat beading at his hairline, which helps make his lie more believable, but you don’t need to know it’s not just because of the summer heat.
Slowly, your smile turns mischievous, and Sunghoon can tell you have an idea in mind. “It is pretty hot… Wait here.”
He watches as you fill a tall glass with ice from the dispenser in the fridge and pop an ice cube in your mouth, a devilish smile on your face, and laughs when that smile is replaced with a frown as the coldness hits you and you spit it back into the glass, laughing along with him. “What the hell are you doing?” he asks between giggles.
“I got the idea a few days ago when we were having popsicles…,” you say looking down at the glass between your hands, slightly embarrassed. “You kissed me and your mouth was really cold but it felt nice.” Sunghoon hums, egging you to go on. You lift the glass up to his cheeks, applying just a bit of pressure to the soft skin. “I thought this could be refreshing.”
You take the ice cube back in your mouth, sucking on it but not letting it melt completely before pressing your lips against Sunghoon’s and opening your mouth just a bit so he could feel the cold of the ice cube. You feel his smile into the kiss as the ice cube swirls between your tongues, sending shivers down your spine.
“Very refreshing indeed,” he murmurs when the ice has completely melted. He gets up and takes the glass in one of his hands, leaning down to your level and says “C’mon” with the same mischievous smile as you on his face.
You two hurry up the stairs, and when you get to his room, he hands you the glass before throwing himself on his back, laying on his back with his hands behind his head. “Show me what you had in mind.”
You straddle his hips and take an ice cube from the glass, rubbing it over his lips before pushing it inside his mouth, the cold making him hiss. You quickly counteract that by pressing your lips to his, the contrast of your warm tongue and the freezing ice turning him on more than he would’ve thought.
When the ice has melted, you take another piece and brush it along his jaw, down his Adam’s apple and around his nipples. The cold temperature makes him squirm but he doesn’t shy away from it, even closing his eyes to focus solely on the feeling. While you play with the ice cube, you also leave warm kisses all over his skin, reveling in its slightly salty taste from the thin layer of sweat. You let the ice cube melt between his abs and watch him wriggle as he sucks in a sharp breath, then grab another one, starting off where the previous one stopped. You circle his navel while your fingers play with the hem of his swimming trunks. He pulls them down himself and you chuckle at his eagerness. “I should’ve known you liked the cold, with all those years of ice skating you did,” you tease.
He’s almost fully hard, and it only takes a few kisses and trailing the ice cube down his inner thighs to have his dick fully erect. He’d only been letting out small sighs and hisses until now, but when you grab another ice cube and circle it around his sensitive tip, he throws his head back into the pillows and moans loudly. You push your luck and drag the ice cube down his shaft, his thighs snapping together when it reaches his balls. You put it in your mouth and let it melt so that your tongue is still cold when you swirl it around his tip, already tasting precum there. But before you can take him further in your mouth, he calls out your name.
“Wait. I don’t wanna cum just yet. My turn.”
He shakes his shoulders in excitement as you switch positions, you taking your t-shirt and bikini top off and laying on your back and him sitting down with one knee on each side of your thighs, an ice cube in his hand and a giddy smile on his face.
He brushes it over your lips before pushing it just a bit into your mouth, holding onto it with two fingers while you suck on it, gazes locked in each other. Just as you did earlier, he trails it down your throat and your chest until they reach your nipples, marveling at the thin wet trail it leaves in its wake. He licks this trail as he circles one of your nipples with the ice cube, and you don’t know if you should focus on his warm tongue or on the cold ice cube. Once it’s melted, he takes another one and circles your other nipple with it, his mouth coming to wrap around the now cold one. Your hands fly up to grab at his hair, your back arching into his touch as you moan and pant loudly.
He sucks and licks at your nipples until you’re calling out his name, begging for more. As nice as his mouth or an ice cube around your nipples feel, your pussy is throbbing and desperate for attention. “Sunghoon… Please,” you whine.
“Please what?” he teases, looking up from your breasts with a smirk.
You whine again, knowing he knows full well what you want. “Please…”
He trails the ice cube down your stomach, circling your navel a few times where it melts before slipping two cold fingers underneath your bikini bottoms. “Is this what you want, baby?,” he asks as he rubs his fingers between his folds, and you whine at the feeling of having him so close to your hole and to your clit but not quite there either. He smirks when you nod frantically but whine at the loss of his fingers against you as he takes your bottoms off and reaches for another ice cube.
You release a loud moan and arch your back off the bed when the ice cube touches your clit. “Fuck, Hoon!”
He rubs the ice cube up and down your folds, your heat melting it much faster than your skin. He takes another one and brings it to your entrance this time, circling around it before pushing the ice cube in and staring with wonder as it melts quickly. He holds your hips down so you stop bucking them up, whimpering at the amazing feeling of the ice against you. He replaces the ice cube with his fingers inside of you and his tongue on your clit, sucking expertly at the sensitive bud and lapping at your juices. And while it feels good - God, does it feel good - and you let Sunghoon know just how nice it feels with your moans, whispers of his names and the way you hold onto his hair, you’re craving something more.
It’s something you’ve been wanting for the past few days, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. No matter how nice Sunghoon’s fingers and mouth felt, they didn’t make you feel close to him enough. You wanted to be so close to him you didn’t know where you ended and where he started; you wanted to feel him.
You pull him up by the face, asking him to come here and getting lost in his lips as soon as they reach your level. God, Sunghoon’s kisses. You could drown in them. But still, that craving, that need for more. And now that his body is pressed up against yours and you can feel his erection against your thigh, so close to your core, you think you know what it is that you want. “Hmm, please…”
“You keep asking me for something, but you don’t tell me what it is.”
“You. I want you, Hoon, please,” you beg, murmuring against his lips as you wrap your legs around his hips and bring him even closer, his cock now pressing against your cunt.
“M-me?,” he asks, leaning back just a bit, but you pull him back in right away, resting his forehead against yours.
“Yes, please. I need to feel you inside me.”
Your words are enough to get a moan out of Sunghoon. “Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he pants, planting kisses all over your face and neck. Usually, you’d giggle at the ticklish sensation, but right now, you’re so drunk on pleasure, it just makes your breath even shallower and your core wetter.
“How long?”
“God. Since the second time we kissed probably,” he replies, reaching for a condom in the drawer of his bedside table. You think back to that moment six weeks ago (how has it been six weeks already?, you think), after you and Sunghoon had made up and made out on his couch in front of a horror movie. He’d wanted you for that long? And he’d waited for you to say something since then?
“Today’s your lucky day, then,” you tease in an attempt to alleviate the need for him that takes over your bones, but his gaze when he looks back at you ruins any effort. If anything, it just makes you need him even more. You feel like you might explode if you don’t have him right now.
You watch as he clumsily wraps the condom around his member, clearly never having done this before, but you wouldn’t be of any help, so you let him figure it out on his own. You let your head fall back as he rubs his tip up and down your folds, gathering your slick on his dick before aligning himself at your entrance and giving you a long, deep kiss.
“Are you sure about this?” he asks, forehead on yours.
“Yeah. Are you?”
“Yeah, I am. But I’m also scared.”
“Scared of what, Hoon?” you ask, opening your eyes to look at him. You caress his cheek and cup his face in your hands, watching softly as he lets his head rest on your palm.
“I’m scared of hurting you. I heard it hurts the first time. And I’m scared…” he closes his eyes and frowns a bit. “I’m scared it’ll feel too good. That I’ll always want it. You.”
You take a small moment to think, your thumb brushing over his cheek in what you hope is a comforting manner. “You won’t hurt me, Hoon. It only hurts if you’re not ready… And I’m plenty ready. I know you’ll take it slow.” You smile softly when he nods, turning his head to kiss your palm. But if sex is as good as you’ve heard it is, you’re also scared that it might be the best thing you’ve ever experienced and that you’ll never get enough. You and Sunghoon have been meeting up almost everyday this summer and it has more often than not ended up with one of you between the other’s legs; you could never get bored of the things he made you feel or of knowing you were making him feel those exact same things. If you couldn’t live without his fingers, how could you live without his dick?
How could you live without him?
You tried to snap out of those thoughts, reassuring yourself that even before all of this you couldn’t imagine yourself living without Sunghoon, and that there was no reason this should change anything. “And don’t be scared of that, silly,” you say, making him smile. “I’ll always be here, Sunghoon. I’ll always want you, too.”
“Fuck, okay,” he whispers, kissing your lips once before pulling himself up on his palms, hovering over you. “Tell me if you need me to stop, yeah?” he asks and waits for you to nod before finally pushing in.
You instantly moan when you feel his tip inside you, and Sunghoon stops, frantically asking if you’re okay. It takes some convincing to get him to push himself further in. “It feels so good, Hoon. Please keep going.”
You tell him to not stop until he’s fully inside you, and he obeys, even though he wants to stop when he sees your frown and your sharp intakes of breath. When he’s buried to a hilt, he can’t help but collapse on top of you, burying his face in your neck and wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. “Y/N,” he drawls out. “Feels so fucking good. So tight,” he murmurs against your neck.
“Mmh. Give me a minute, baby.” Your hands caress up and down the expanse of his back and you feel him relax on top of you. As you adjust around his length, the stretch starts to feel more and more pleasurable, until pleasure is the only thing you feel. “Hoon?”
“Yeah?” he says, kissing and nibbling softly at your neck and earlobe.
“You can move, now.”
Sunghoon doesn’t need to be told twice and ever-so-slowly slides out of you, leaving only the tip in before he slides back in. His thrusts are slow but deep, and it’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more. He’s barely started but you’re both already whimpering messes, holding onto each other tightly as pleasure like neither of you has felt before takes over your entire bodies.
As you both get more comfortable, his pace picks up just a tiny bit and you tentatively raise your legs higher so that they’re hooked around the back of his knees instead of laying on the bed. The new angle only adds to the intense pleasure, but you don’t even realize you’re crying until Sunghoon stops mid-thrust, wiping your tears with his thumb and worryingly asking if you’re okay and if it hurts and if he should stop. You open your eyes and smile, instantly calming his nerves. You bring his head closer to yours and kiss him like you’d stop breathing if you didn’t. “It feels so fucking good, Hoon. So, so good.”
He sighs out of relief and resumes his actions, heart swelling with pride that he’s making you feel so good, you’re crying. He’s always hated seeing you cry or hurt in general; but knowing what kind of tears these are, he thinks you look so pretty with tears streaming down your face. His hands grip your thighs a bit tighter as he quickens his pace, already addicted to the feeling of your warm walls taking him in so well.
He slips out a few times but you’re always quick to guide him back inside you. He lifts his body up a bit to get a deeper angle, hoping it’ll get him to stop slipping out, and he’s blown away by the sight underneath him. He thinks you’ve never looked so gorgeous as you do now, legs spread wide for him, cheeks flushed, brows furrowed and mouth agape for him. He kisses your tears, the salty taste bringing a smile to his lips. “So perfect,” he whispers against your mouth. “You look so beautiful.”
Sunghoon takes your legs and wraps them higher around his hips, the new angle hitting a spot inside you that’s making you see stars and has you moaning his name like it’s the only thing you know how to say. You feel that familiar tension build up inside your stomach much faster and much stronger than it usually does.
“Fuck, Sunghoon, I’m gonna cum,” you warn, and a harsher thrust inside you is what pushes you over the edge, the sensation crashing into you and making your thighs shake. An orgasm has never hit you this hard before.
You’re clenching around him like crazy and Sunghoon gasps as you milk him dry, his own orgasm hitting him all at once. He shoots his release inside the condom and stills inside you, breath completely taken away by the sudden, overwhelming sensation.
He lays on top of you for a moment as you both catch your breaths, trying to make sense of how something can feel this good without killing you instantly. He apologizes when his pulling out makes you wince and kisses the top of your head. He rolls onto his back, pulling you with him so that you’re now almost lying on top of him, head against his chest as his arms wrap themselves around you. You leave kisses all over his chest and neck and his hands caress your back.
“That was amazing.”
“I know, right?” he responds immediately, his enthusiasm making you laugh.
“Thanks, Hoon,” you say timidly, voice muffled against his skin.
“For what?”
“For making me feel this good.”
He chuckles. “No need to thank me, pretty. If anything, I should thank you for letting me make you feel good, and on top of that making me feel good.”
You hum at his words and you both stay there for a bit longer, enjoying each other’s warmth. Something blooms inside your chest, and you don’t know whether to let it grow or to squash it down. It feels nice, almost too nice, and you’re scared it might get ripped away from you and it won’t feel so nice then.
Friendship, sex, love. In those weeks spent with Sunghoon, those previously clear lines have blurred to a point they were all one big messy ball of feelings and not three distinct things you could tell apart. Has sex turned your friendship with Sunghoon into something romantic? Or is that just an illusion, and being so intimate with your best friend has messed up your once platonic vision of him? But was your vision of him ever platonic?
Haven't the two of you always been teased about liking each other for a reason? After all, you and Sunghoon didn't grow up together, and he’s never felt like a brother to you. He has always been your male friend; you’ve always been aware that he was your friend who was also a boy. When you'd moved in the house next to his, you hadn’t instantly clicked; it took a while for the ice skating prodigy to warm up to you, but his parents had warmly welcomed yours into the neighborhood and quickly became friends, so it was only a matter of time before he’d open up to the idea of you being around. Constantly.
You’d walk to and from school together, do homework together, go on family trips together, cheer each other on at your respective competitions. After his ice skating lessons, when his coach let him have the whole place to himself for a bit more practice, he’d tie your ice skates for you and drag you onto the ice rink, holding you by the waist or shoulders as he skated backwards in front of you, but also laughing at you when you inevitably fell. He’d tease you for getting second place at the science fair or for getting your arguments torn apart during Model United Nations, but the way he’d be a little nicer to you or share his food more often that week wouldn’t escape you.
Being a handsome young ice skater, Sunghoon had developed quite the loyal following of boys and girls alike who would come to see him at his competitions. He thrived off of the attention, but no matter how much he enjoyed his fans’ admiration, you were always the one he’d skate to after having won first place, hugging you tightly over the barrier separating the ice from the bleachers. Especially during your younger teen years, Sunghoon wasn’t one for skinship or PDA, so it always meant that much more to you that even after his most important wins, you were the first thing on his mind. It never failed to make your stomach flip, and all the death stares from his fans in the world couldn’t have changed a thing.
You were already close, but you became practically inseparable after Sunghoon’s injury. During the competition that would have gotten him a place at the Youth Winter Olympics had he won, his nerves got the best of him and he didn’t land his triple axel, hurting his ankle in the process. Ten years of dedication and hard work, ruined in mere seconds. To say that it destroyed him would be an understatement.
You were the one to bring him back up. You listened to him when he needed to vent, held him when he needed a shoulder to cry on, cheered him up when he needed to smile. He didn’t even need to tell you what he needed, you seemed to just know. You reminded him that he had a lot more value than his medals and trophies and that he didn’t need them to be complete. His family and friends tried their best to make him feel better, but their words never reached him quite like yours did.
Slowly but surely, his confidence came back. He’d lost his fans, but he’d gained a friend he knew would always be there for him. His dimples would appear more often, his laugh would resonate louder. His injury had made the two of you grow closer, creating a bond that would only strengthen over time.
And yet there were moments when being friends wasn’t enough. When calling him your best friend didn’t feel right. You had other friends, friends you were close to; sure, maybe not as close as to Sunghoon, but close nonetheless. And you didn’t feel that way around them.
Their laugh didn’t make your heart skip a beat. You didn’t want to bury your face in their necks and breathe in their scent when they hugged you. You didn’t want to know every single detail of their day. And you surely didn’t feel a pang of jealousy in your chest when they danced with another girl at your school ball.
You also didn’t crave their lips on yours every single day since it had happened for the first time and didn’t want to see what they sounded or looked like while getting the life sucked out of them through their dick.
Everybody told you it was obvious you were ‘more than friends.’ Why did romantic love have to be ‘more’ than platonic love? Why were there levels to it? You didn’t like the idea of taking your relationship with Sunghoon ‘one step further’; that wasn’t the way it felt to you. Rather, it felt like having to change everything you knew and create something new. Something where you could see him laugh and tell him about your day, but where you could also kiss him and graze his skin with your fingertips. Something that only you could share with him and only he could share with you. But you were afraid the friendship would fall apart if things didn't work out. So, instead of taking the risk of changing everything, you made sure things would stay the same. You’d tell the butterflies raging in your stomach to settle down and you wouldn’t let yourself fall into his touch in case it’d be like falling from the highest mountain.
That is, until he kissed you. Until this moment, right now, lying in his arms, ear right over his heart so you can hear it beat for you. You look up at him. His eyes are closed and a soft smile rests on his lips. He looks so peaceful. He always looks pleased when you’ve just been together, but right now, he seems to be in such a serene state, it almost makes you laugh.
Now that you’ve given in to your feelings, you’ve realized just how strong they were this whole time. Nothing has ever felt better than being in Sunghoon’s arms, than being able to see him at his most vulnerable state and to give all of you to him. All those things you didn’t know about him just six weeks ago, you know them by heart now. You’re sure there’s other things to find out, and you’ll make sure you will.
But summer won’t last forever.
A wave of sadness slaps you right in the face, bringing you back to reality. There’ll come a time where you and Sunghoon won’t be able to lounge around all day or lazily make-out at your will. You’ll go your own ways and not see each other for months at a time. The thought of that is unbearable, and you feel like looking at Sunghoon for a second longer might rip your heart into a million pieces.
When you sit up, tearing yourself away from his grip, he immediately opens his eyes, asking what’s wrong.
“Just need to go to the bathroom. I heard you can get STIs from not peeing after sex,” you half-lie. He nods and falls back into the bed.
You rush to the toilet, needing to get far away from Sunghoon as quickly as possible. Even your pee smells different - guess that’s what having a dick inside you will do to you. You wash your hands and look in the mirror: your skin is darker in some spots, surely Sunghoon’s work. So not only did he mess with your thoughts, he also had to make your body all weird, too?
You splash your face with cold water, hoping it will bring you back to your senses. You and Sunghoon have been best friends for years. There’s no point in changing all of that now, is there? You’ll be leaving soon enough, anyway. Why ruin a perfectly fine friendship for a summer fling?
Those are your thoughts as you head back to Sunghoon’s bedroom, ready to tell him that this whole thing was a mistake and you should just pretend it never happened. But your resolve crumbles at your feet as soon as you step inside the room.
Sunghoon’s got a couple of snacks ready as he browses through Netflix in search of an appropriate movie. “How about Twilight?” he says when he feels the bed dip under your weight next to him. He kisses your forehead and pulls you down on the bed with him so that you’re lying back against his chest.
Screw it, you think. Whatever this is, it’s much more than a summer fling.
--
The rest of the summer goes by in a flash. No, you don’t try to make Sunghoon jealous by flirting with Heeseung; if the mention of the latter’s name was enough to get your friend mad, then purposefully twirling your hair or batting your eyelashes at the older boy just might make Sunghoon white-boy-punch a hole into a wall. And it’s not like Heeseung would try coming onto you, either, with how clingy Sunghoon gets when he’s around, always an arm around your waist and a glare that could kill Heeseung.
Sunghoon gradually opens up to Heeseung being around, even though it takes you reminding him almost daily that he’s the one whose arms you wanna end up in over anybody’s. After a couple weeks, Sunghoon stops looking like he's on the brink of starting a fight every time Heeseung so much as talks to you or hands you a glass of lemonade, and finally relaxes around him.
You spend countless sleepless nights with Sunghoon. You’ve probably memorized every single one of his moles by now, and you’ve made sure to kiss all of them. He holds you against him like he might lose you at any given moment. The only nights you don’t fall asleep in each other’s embrace are when either one of you is sleeping over at your friend’s house. On those nights, sleep always takes hours before washing over you, the lack of warmth keeping you awake.
Your friends and you spend entire days at the lake or by Sunghoon’s pool, not a care in the world. You rest your head on Sunghoon’s shoulder as you watch the fireworks Jake and Jay bought go off. Sunghoon grills your marshmallows for you, blowing on them so they cool down before handing you the stick. You try to ignore how the night air gets slightly chillier and how the sun sets slightly earlier, but by the last days of August, it becomes too noticeable. When September rolls around, you’re sure there’s a small crack in your heart.
You know Sunghoon feels the end of summer too. His kisses are deeper and his lips linger over yours a second longer. He frowns when he kisses you and hugs you, like he’s trying to remember what it feels like. His usual playful demeanor when you’re in bed together is gone, instead seemingly hellbent on making you feel good and almost begging you to say his name. As if you could say any other name. As if you could say anything else.
Neither of you mention your departure until the night before you leave. After spending the evening with your friends, you lie together in bed, the side of your face resting against his chest so you can feel his heart against your ear. He’s tracing patterns with his fingertips on your back, and it takes you a while to figure out he’s spelling his name over and over again, as if to etch it in your skin. When, once in a while, he takes his hand off of you to reach for his phone, you can still feel his fingers caressing you, ghostlike against your skin.
The air around you feels heavy, pressing the both of you down into the mattress. You wish the bed would eat you alive so you could stay there, warm against each other, as long as you like. You know you can’t leave without talking first, but the words won’t come to you. Instead, they float around the bed, weighing your heart down into your stomach.
“So,” you start. You're unsure what to say, but you know this conversation has to happen, one way or another. In the end, you settle on, “Excited to leave?”
Sunghoon scoffs lightly, his motions on your back coming to a stop. “Not really, no. It’s not like I’m leaving that far, and half of our school is going to our uni.”
“Maybe, but there’ll be tons of other people. Tons of other girls, too,” you add after a short pause.
“Don’t do this, Y/N, please.”
You sit up at his words. He covers his eyes with his forearm and takes a deep breath in, sensing an incoming argument. “Do what?”
“This. Getting mad at me when I haven’t done anything.”
“I’m not mad at you,” you protest, frowning down at him.
“No? Then what’s this?” he says, smoothing down the lines between your eyebrows and on your forehead with the pad of a finger.
“Whatever.” You nudge your head away from his touch. It burns. “It’s not like I’m wrong, anyway. You’re gonna have a bunch of girls at your feet, and you’ll know what to do with them, right? Now that you’re not a virgin?” you question, avoiding his gaze.
“Y/N…” he sighs, shutting his eyes tighter as if in pain.
“What? This was the whole reason why, right? Get experience with me so you could fuck girls better, no?”
“Y/N!” he says, raising his voice enough to let you know he’s upset but not enough to scare you. He sits up, looking at you with hurt and disbelief in his eyes. “What’s this all of a sudden? It’s not like I forced you into this! We agreed on it together!”
“So you agree? That this summer was just about getting experience and now you’ll use it on other girls and pretend like we,” you gesture between the two of you, “never happened?”
“What do you mean ‘agree’? I never said any of this! Don’t put words into my mouth!”
He watches as you get up from the bed, arms crossed and pacing his room. He calls out to you a few times, but you don’t stop to look at him until he speaks your name with a sternness you’ve never heard before from him. “What?” you snap.
“I don’t get why you’re acting like this out of nowhere! We both knew summer was gonna end at some point, and why we were doing this! Why are you blaming me now?”
“Because… because…” you sigh, scrambling for an excuse. Why were you doing this? The thought of Sunghoon doing what he did to you to another girl, making her feel as good as he had made you feel, kissing her like he had kissed you, made you sick. It made you see red, it made you want to make him wear a shirt with your face on it so everybody knew he was yours.
Sunghoon gets up and stands close in front of you, too close. You close your eyes. If you see his moles, you might reach out to touch them and let yourself fall even more. If you fall, you’ll need to get up, but his scent makes your knees weak.
His hands find your face, holding a little too gently, you think. Your small ones wrap around his wrists and grip them, a little too harshly, he thinks.
You take a step back and finally look into his eyes. There’s hope in them; hope you’ll say what he wants, what he needs to hear. That you want him like he wants you. That you wish summer wasn’t over. That you’ll keep him in your heart until you can see him again. So, when what you say next is none of the above, he feels his heart sink down to his feet, leaving a murky puddle there.
“I can’t do this.”
You rush out of the room, practically running home. You fight your tears back until you slam your bedroom behind you, pathetically sinking to the ground as you let out a loud sob. You don't have the energy to get up, and cry into your hoodie's sleeve right there on the floor.
When you’ve calmed down a bit, you get up and lay in your bed, hiding your whole body underneath the covers. Maybe this is for the best, you think. If you end it like this, you won’t have the knowledge of whether he’ll wait to have you back or he’ll move on like nothing happened. That way, you can do whatever you want, not caring about what he’s up to.
But even now, your hands subconsciously reach out towards a person that’s not there and your feet hang over the edge of your bed as though to get up and run to him anytime. You curl in on yourself to stop your body from aching for him. It doesn’t work very well.
Sunghoon stays where you left him for a few minutes, too stunned to move. Should he run after you? Should he let you cool off for a bit and talk to you in the morning? Would you be mad at him if he didn’t try to see you now or would the mere sight of him just make you angrier? He plops down on his bed as these questions run through his mind, butting into each other and making everything more confusing.
He thinks back on everything that led to this, and his mind settles on that day a few days after graduation where his thoughts had dropped to the lowest pits of hell. If only you hadn’t brought those two damned lollipops.
--
The next morning, Sunghoon wakes up as if somebody had slapped him awake. He doesn’t bother to brush his teeth or eat anything before running over to your house, almost forgetting to put shoes on. He finds you in your room, packing the last of your things into an already full suitcase. He stands at your door, panting as his hands rest on his knees.
“You haven’t left yet. Thank God.”
“God, Hoon. It’s not that far between your house and mine. How are you so out of breath,” you say, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.
He walks to you and kneels in front of you, taking you in his arms before you can say anything. “Talk to me, please. Don’t leave like this. I’d never forgive myself if you left and you were mad at me, Y/N.”
You thought you’d cried so much last night that there was not a single drop of water left in your body, but you thought wrong. Your eyes immediately well up at his words, and he leans back when he hears a soft sniffle escaping you. Only then does he notice how puffy your eyes from all your crying.
“No, no… Have you been crying? I’m so sorry, pretty, please don’t cry,” he pouts, pulling you back into his embrace. It hasn’t even been half a day, but you missed his warmth so much, it only makes you cry harder.
After sobbing against his chest, possibly staining his shirt in the process, you pull away and in your light-headed, dehydrated state, spill your heart out. “It’s so stupid,” you sob. “We’re not gonna see each other for months and I’m gonna miss you so much and I don’t want you to be with other girls. I want you all to myself and I don’t want to be your friend that you fucked for a summer just so you could get experience, it was a stupid idea in the first place, if you wanted to kiss me, you should’ve just kissed me. But you didn’t just kiss me and now I’m scared that this all meant nothing to you but everything to me and that I don’t want to be friends anymore but you do and I’m mad that it took me all summer to say this even though I’ve known it for years but I didn’t want to admit it to myself but also you didn’t say anything and I’m mad about that too. Because there’s no way you don’t feel like I do but maybe you actually don’t and-”
Whatever you were about to say dies out against Sunghoon’s lips as he presses his lips to yours, interrupting your rambling. He pulls away, looking at you with a huge, stupid grin. He’s so stupid, you think. I love him so much.
“Fucking hell, Y/N. I’ve been waiting for you to say this so bad, you have no idea.”
You punch his chest, frowning at him. Those stupid tears won’t stop. Everything is so stupid. “Then why didn’t you say it first?”
“Because I didn’t know how to. You know I’m bad with words. And I was scared it’d make things weird.”
“I don’t want things to be weird,” you pout.
“I don’t want things to be weird, either. I want things to be nice and happy.”
You giggle. “That’s so stupid.”
“Right? It’s so stupid,” he repeats, kissing you again.
“Your breath smells,” you complain when he pulls away.
“And you have tears on your lips. Tastes salty,” he teases.
“Yeah, thanks to who?”
“Sorry.” He smiles and kisses you again. He holds you against him for a while, enjoying this last moment together. As long as he can see a smile on your face before you leave, he’ll be fine.
“I’m gonna miss you so much too, Y/N. And forget about those non-existent girls. There’s no one I’d rather be with than you.”
“How do you know? You haven’t met any of them yet,” you say, voice muffled against his t-shirt.
“I’ve met other girls before. None of them compare to you,” he says, and you immediately gag at how cliché it sounds. “What?! It’s true,” he giggles.
“You’re not gonna go and date a random guy, are you?”
“Of course not. None of them compare to you,” you say, lowering your voice to imitate his.
He helps you finish packing, and when you’re done, you lay together on your bed, not saying much because not much needs to be said. Your parents struggle to tear you away from each other and from your bed when it’s time to leave. He helps your dad put your baggage in the trunk of his car, telling you to not lift a finger so you watch him go to and from the car, leaving a kiss on your forehead every time he walks past you. You notice with a smile that he doesn’t carry much at once, making him have to go back-and-forth quite often.
After saying goodbye to your family, your dad waits in the car as you and Sunghoon hang back awkwardly, kicking small pebbles on the pavement. He takes your hand in his, making you look up at him, then takes the other hand, then hugs you close to him.
“I’m gonna miss you,” you say, as if that wasn’t obvious. You’re trying hard to fight tears from falling again, but it’s like there’s an ocean behind your eyes, water somehow never running out.
“I already miss you,” he says, and that’s enough to get you to sob again, which makes him start crying too. You’re crying, he’s crying, your mom is crying from the porch as she watches the two of you, it’s a mess.
You force yourself away from him, cupping his face in your hands. “We’ll see each other soon, okay? And college will be fun. You won’t even have time to miss me. But make time to think about me, yeah? And text me.”
“I will. I’ll think about you all the time, I already do,” he says.
“Okay,” you whisper and hug him one last time, very briefly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. You’re about to walk away but he doesn’t let go of your hand and pulls on your arm to bring you back to him.
Pressing his forehead against yours, he whispers, “I love you,” and you sob.
“I love you, too.”
This time, when you walk away, he lets you go. He watches as you get into the passenger’s seat and as the car drives away, as it takes you away from him. You watch him stand there in the rearview mirror, until his silhouette becomes smaller, and smaller, and smaller, until you can’t see him at all anymore.
--
Summer went and fall came as they do every year. Dead leaves are falling but it’s a new start for you. It’s a new town and you don’t know anybody, but you click instantly with your roommate and make new friends throughout your first week there. You realize everybody’s in the same boat, and they’re all eager to meet people and are curious about college life. You love your classes but complain about them nonetheless. You eat more ramen than you’d like to admit and turn up hungover at a 9 am class on a Thursday. You pull all-nighters at the library and develop a caffeine dependency. You’re a college student.
You and Sunghoon were very dramatic when you left, you soon realize. You call almost everyday. He’s not there with you and you miss him but at least you don’t have to pretend you’re not stupidly in love with him anymore. Because it’s stupid, being in love, it really is. You wouldn’t trade it for the world.
Your first semester passes by almost too quickly, and before you know it, you’re on the drive home, already one eighth of the way through university. You’re excited to go home, but Sunghoon’s finals last a week longer so you wait around for him. When you complain about it, Chaeyoung tells you to get a grip. “You haven’t seen him in three months, I’m sure you can handle another week.”
And you can, but barely. You were about to explode but then he’s back and you’re in his arms and his hair is still so soft, his scent is still so comforting and his moles are still there. You kiss them both before you finally press your lips to his, and it makes you feel so alive, you could die right then and there.
You lie on his bed and talk for hours as if you didn’t keep in touch the whole time and it’s like you never left. It’s like summer never ended and you’ve just been lying in his bed the whole time, college just one big fever dream.
But his skin doesn’t smell like chlorine anymore, and he’s not in his swimming trunks. It’s fall, almost winter, and you’re kissing Park Sunghoon. You realize you can kiss him whatever the season and you find comfort in that. It was a big day (you cried a lot when you saw him) and you’re tired so you think you’ll kiss for a bit and that’ll be all but then he whispers “I missed you so much” against your neck and a fire lights inside your stomach. Oh, how it burns. You think it might consume you whole, but you don’t dislike that idea.
In a flash, you’re on top of him, his shirt is off, your shirt is off, but it’s not enough so you take your pants off too and Sunghoon is confused as to why you’re going so fast, but follows you anyway. “What’s going on?” he asks when you’re done with the taking off of your clothes and have moved on to kissing and biting at his neck like it’s your first meal in ages, because it is.
“I missed you too,” you simply answer, and he smirks as he nods slowly, now understanding your eagerness.
“Missed me that much, huh?” he teases, letting his head fall back against the pillow so you have better access to his neck.
“Shut up. Kiss me,” you order, and he doesn’t need to be told twice. Your kisses are ravenous and desperate, very fitting for two horny people in love who haven’t seen each other in months. But the pulse in your core makes you too impatient to stay anywhere for too long, and really, it’s not your fault if you’re grinding down onto Sunghoon’s clothed erection, it’s just that he smells too good and you missed him too much.
Sunghoon laughs at you for being so impatient to hide just how impatient he is. His giggles keep him from moaning loudly enough to wake the whole house, and you laugh as you tell him to stop laughing.
“I’m serious. I missed you so much. Need you so bad,” you say as you get rid of your underwear and quickly do the same for his. He gasps when he feels you take his dick in your hand and brush its tip between your folds, both out of pleasure and out of surprise.
“Shouldn’t I get you ready? Stretch you out a bit?” he asks, his hands roaming up and down your back as he sits up on the bed so that you’re straddling his lap, and you shake your head no. You’re probably already embarrassingly wet from your short makeout session, anyway.
“I don’t care if it hurts,” you say, lining his tip with your entrance. “Need to feel you.”
You sink down on his cock, the both of you releasing loud moans at the long-awaited feeling. He lets you adjust to his size for a minute, but as soon as you move your hips just a bit, signaling to him that you’re ready for more, it’s over for you. He wanted to be patient and take his time, he really did, but you feel so warm around him and your small whimpers are so pretty that his resolve of letting you take the lead is thrown out the window. He pounds into you at a rapid pace that has you biting his shoulder to keep yourself from screaming.
You had imagined your first time back with Sunghoon so many times before. It usually involved a nice playlist in the background, fairy lights and candles lighting the room, hours of foreplay and sensual lovemaking, with a nice bath afterwards. Sometimes, when you were particularly needy for him, you imagined something closer to what was actually happening, where you’d rip each other’s clothes as soon as you got to the bedroom and fucked like animals (a bit much, admittedly, but you really missed him).
What you definitely hadn’t expected, however, was that you’d both cum in less than five minutes. What could you do, though, when he was hitting your g-spot over and over again, his length stretching you perfectly as he whispered in your ear how much he’d missed you and how good you felt? And what could he do when you took him in so well, clinging onto him as you told him how much you’d missed him and how good he felt?
You finish at the same time, hole clenching around him and milking him dry. He doesn’t pull out for a while, letting you collapse onto him as you both catch your breaths, just like you had that first time. “That was a bit quick,” he pants, and you can’t help but laugh.
You pull back to look at his face. It’s so pretty and stupid. What a stupid face that you love so much. Do you love it because it’s stupid or is it stupid because you love it? You think that that’s a stupid question, and you kiss the mole on his nose, then the mole on his cheek, right next to his nose.
“We have all night to go slower.”
“We have all Christmas break,” he corrects.
We have the rest of our lives, you think, and you think that might be a bit much, but you say it anyway. Sunghoon hums and says, “yes, we do,” and you think maybe it’s not all that stupid.
Maybe it’s the greatest thing that’s ever been.
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