#its always 'its never too late to be better' but it always was for him

[sturnmeovr]

♡‧₊˚ Neighbor!Matt x Brat!Reader - No Sex in the Elevator

MDNI - 18+, long ass word count, strong language, p in v, unprotected sex, public sex, elevator sex, oral m receiving, face fucking, squirting, daddy kink, praise kink? walk run of shame

The day was cold and dreary, gloomy clouds took over the sky, making your afternoon drag on. Recently you had been getting out of the house more; avoiding your upstairs neighbor at all costs was a newfound mission for you. You feared that your one-night stand – resulting in Matt placing an order on Instacart for a plan B and half a gallon of orange juice the next morning before he nonchalantly slipped out your front door – would cause an awkward encounter the next time you spoke to him. It was something you didn’t want to go through, so you ran from it, and you were pretty damn good at running from any problem that was bound to confront you — unless you had alcohol in your system, it was a different story then.

“Stairs are out of order, Sweetie,” the building maintenance man pulls you from your daydreams as you walk through the entrance of your apartment building. The potent smell of wet paint wafts over you, your nose crinkles as the smell makes its way to pierce your brain, leaving you lightheaded and gripping the banister to keep you from falling out.

The building you lived in was old and ancient, taking the elevator was something you dreaded doing. In fact, you hadn’t stepped one foot on it the whole time you had lived in your building. The old, creaky staircases were enough to convince the place was haunted, riding in a barely functioning elevator was the last thing you wanted to add to your shitty day. A huff leaves your lungs, and you pull your sweet seductive charm from the bottom of your gut, as much as you didn’t want to, “I can’t just slide past you?” a few bats of your lashes were sure to get the old geezer to compromise to your wishes, “promise I’ll be real quick.” 

You knew any man was quick to crack under pressure when it came to your convincing demeanor, “just be —,” his words come to a halt, a familiar voice that always leaves a pit in your stomach speaks up, “since you’re letting her up that means I can sneak past too, right?” There was no need to spin on your heels to look the person in the eyes, you knew exactly who the deep, husky voice belonged to — your upstairs neighbor, Matt. 

Squeezing your eyes shut as the maintenance man stutters over his words, “no can do, you and little lady r’gonna have to take the elevator.” The best way you could describe it; he sounded like a man who got caught red handed flirting with a young check out cashier by his wife. It was pathetic. You push out another breath, rolling your eyes as you cross your arms over your chest and make your way to the prehistoric elevator. Seriously, it looked like it was one of the first ones invented.

A low chuckle echoes off the hallway walls, making you increasingly more irritated as you jam the button repeatedly, wanting to summon the elevator to your floor so you could end this nightmare as soon as possible. No matter how much he got under your skin, his presence made a gooey arousal form in your panties each time he was near you; almost like your pussy sensed when he was close. She couldn’t resist him if your lives depended on it. It was hard to believe a guy you knew nothing about – other than his habit of late-night video gaming and how big his dick was – had this type of effect on you after only sleeping with him one time.

Hooking up with him wasn’t something you wanted to continue, it was dangerous. Any guy you hooked up with never failed to get too comfortable and you’d be damned if you had your obnoxiously sexy upstairs neighbor pounding on your door because you weren’t replying to his texts or calls. You weren’t ready for a relationship, and it seemed like every guy you thought about giving the pussy up to always forced some type of commitment on you. It was better not to get involved with anyone at all, which is one of the reasons why you had been practicing celibacy for the last few months – up until he came along.

The chime of the elevator breaks your gaze that was glued to the door as it slides open, taking a deep breath before stepping on. Anxiety rose in your chest, making your heart thump vigorously, the saliva drying out of your mouth. You gulp down what seems like air as you press the button to the fourth floor. As Matt leans in to press the fifth floor button, his woodsy cologne takes over the air, sending flashbacks of that rainy Saturday night running through your head. You didn’t budge from your spot, instead a smile unknowingly pulls at your lips, “what r’you smiling for, kid?” he asks in a hushed tone. The rawness of his raspy voice makes your eyes gravitate towards him, his icy blue arctics piercing deep into you like they did every time he came across your path. Something about his gaze was so intense, so captivating; it was hypnotizing.

“Nothing,” you mumble, taking a step back and tightening your grip on the railing that outlined the inside of the small, enclosed room. Your breath hitching once the elevator jolts upward, a quiet squeal slips from your lips, making Matt look at you, confusion sunk deep into his expression, “scared?” he asks, a chuckle following quickly behind his question. Your face crunching in irritation once more, “no!” you spit out defensively, “m’not scared – I just don’t like elevators.” You watch as a mischievous smirk makes itself known on his lips, “ahh, I see,” he takes a step back to the middle of the elevator, looking up at the sign that illuminates the number ‘2’, and back at you. “Since you aren’t scared – you wouldn’t care if I do this,” he teases, making one big jump that sends the small, enclosed room rocking.

A gasp escapes from your lungs, “Matt, stop!” you snap, clinging onto the railing for dear life. His laughter bounces off the walls, your jaw clenched tight as you scowl at him, “it’s not funny, Matt! This elevator is old, it can —,” your angelic voice gets interrupted by the elevator jolting to a stop, the lights cutting out abruptly. You push out a panicked squeal before flinging yourself towards Matt's dark silhouette, colliding face first with his chest as you do so. His arms wrap around you in a matter of milliseconds, and he pulls you into his strong build, “shhh – it's okay. Jus’ a lil’ malfunction, yeah?” His voice is soothing if anything, but it doesn’t help much because the thought of never getting out of the cramped space hits you like a freight train, the paranoia placing itself deep in your gut. Your chest heaves up and down as you manage to get out staggered breaths, not attempting to form any sentences because you knew it was pointless when you were in a mental state like this. 

Matt’s grip tightens around you, rubbing a hand down your back, trying his best to calm you as hot tears stain his t-shirt, “s’gonna be okay – you have to calm down,” his words are as comforting as your favorite goose feather, satin covered pillow you slept with every night. You could tell he was trying his hardest to pull you out of your panic. You had to give him credit for trying, most men would be trying to pry the elevator doors open by now. You struggle over your own sobs, managing to get a few words out, “I ca – can’t. I can’t.” In a way, you were relieved it was pitch dark, he wouldn’t be able to see the fugly facial expression your face unwillingly made when you cried, and that saved you a lot of embarrassment.

“Yes, you can, Y/n. Deep breaths, okay?” he soothes, Matt pulls you from his grip, keeping his hands firm on each side of your shoulders for a few seconds before he does something you expected the very least; he smashes his lips into yours. 

Your lips move in sync against his so passionately; like two lovers who had been parted for a lifetime, like they had been missing each other their whole lives. Matt hands cup the sides of your face, his thumbs collecting your left-over tears as he holds you in place, your hands balling fists into his shirt the whole time. Unbeknownst to you, you hadn't left his mind since that lonely Saturday night when he came knocking on your door in hopes of calling a truce, instead he ended up biting off more than he could chew, having you pinned to your mattress with his cum leaking out of your pussy by the time he was done with you.

Every encounter since, whether it be a small wave when passing in the stairwell or an eye roll when he'd 'coincidentally' get the mail at the same time as you every day. Every interaction always left him struck for words, his heart pounding harder than it ever had over any pinch of attention you'd give him. Lately, he went out of his way just get a reaction from you – hence why he broke the fucking elevator. 

Matt glides his tongue across your bottom lip, pleading for access as his thumbs strokes the sides of your face. You hold out on him for a second, trying to be as teasing as you possibly could, but something about the feeling of his hands on you made you fold too quickly for comfort. You part lips slightly, allowing his tongue to dance with yours. You muffle out a moan as Matt walks you backward, the wall brings your bodies to a standstill, the cold railing prodding into your back.

Static sounds over the elevators intercom, making Matt disentangle himself from you, “Hello, this is New York City Fire Department, is the elevator you’re currently in malfunctioning?” You can feel the warmth of his body radiate off yours as he pulls away, making sure he doesn’t stray too far, “y-yea, we’re stuck,” his voice shaky, but not from what anyone would assume.

He wasn’t shaken up from being stuck in a tight space that felt like it was running out of oxygen, he was overwhelmed from having you this close to him again, his lips on yours like he had been manifesting since the first – and only – passionate sex session the two of you shared. He knew he couldn’t miss the opportunity of having you come undone on his cock one more time. He digs his fingertips into your hips, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses from your ear to your neck, and finally to the exposed cleavage spilling out of your shirt. 

“Excuse me sir,” the lady on the other side of the intercom chimes in, “is the elevator experiencing a power outage?” A groan flees his mouth before he gives your breast a light nip. The sting of his teeth sinking into your skins earns a whimper from you, “Matt — Matt,” you stutter, trying to pull his attention away from your breasts. 

“Y-yeah the lights — the lights are out,” his hands roam your body, spending the most time in the right places until they’re on your shoulders, guiding you down to your knees. Given your prior sexual experience, you loved taking control; seeing a man whimper under your own dominance always did something for you. Matt made you want to throw your celibacy and your dominant habits out the window, you couldn’t deny his touch if a million dollars was on the line. The way he fucked you was like nothing you had ever experienced before, and the best way you could describe coming on his dick was like an outer body experience; like a night out of partying and unknowingly stumbling across your soulmate on the street of New York City. Any time you were with him it felt like a movie, you and him being the main characters of the steamy rom-com. It was ecstasy to you. And him.

You fumble with his belt, tugging on it impatiently until you feel it come loose. The loose end coming back to pop you in the face, earning a hiss from you. The darkness makes you move primarily off touch as you yank his boxers down. You can feel the heat emanating off of his cock as it springs free, “fuckkk,” Matt drags out his words. You wrap a hand around his shaft, making him jump at your touch, too sensitive to the feeling of your ice-cold hands on him.

You give him a few pumps before taking his tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his most delicate part as you stroke the rest that didn't fit in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down slowly, and coating his cock in your sweet, sticky salvia. A string of soft grunts spill from his mouth each time you take him further down your throat, only giving you motivation to please him more. The operator rudely interrupting over the intercom once more, “Sir, how many occupants are in the elevator with you?” 

“Ju — wait, wait,” he laces his fingers through your hair, gently caressing your temple to let you know he’s talking to you. “Nuht uh,” you mutter, coming back up for air with a popping noise at his tip, and running your plump, kiss swollen lips down his length in a teasing manner. Matt was folding under pressure sooner than you expected. Much like you, he was used to being the dominant partner when it came to sex. He knew what he was doing and what he liked. He recently noticed when it came to you, he found himself being a bit too possessive – if it was up to him, he'd be fucking you until you were sprawled out on the carpeted floor of the elevator, temporarily paralyzed in a puddle of your own juices.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t pissed that you had been avoiding him after how good he fucked you two weeks ago; he put his all into it, so he was quite shocked, and disappointed, when you didn’t send a simple text the following days. He wanted to put you in your place for all the times you bitched him out at random hours of the day and night for being too loud, for coming in every other weekend too drunk to walk up the stairs or unlock your door, for rejecting him after he fucked into oblivion. Matt knew you needed a man to put you in your place and he intended to do just that. His grip tightening on your hair as he bucks his hips forwards, pushing his cock deep into your mouth.

His actions pull a gag from the back of your throat, his hips slowing their pace as he throws his head back. When you show no reluctance, it only gives him more reason the pick his pace back up, “s'fucking good,” his voice lewd from the mind-spinning pleasure you were gifting him with. Wet squelches slip from the back of your throat, drool dripping from your chin, forming sticky ropes to your breasts that were spilling out of your shirt. Matt continues to fuck himself into your mouth at a steady pace, making sure to keep his grip tight on your hair so you don’t pull away. Your hands place firmly on his thighs as you try your hardest to take his full length.

“Sir?” the lady over the intercom chimes in for the fourth time, at the same time you break free from his grasp, gasping for air. “Fuckk what?!” he spits out at the operator, irritation and dominance weaved around his hoarse voice. 

“How many occupants are in the elevator with you?” she repeats the same question from before. You sit on the floor, attempting to collect yourself as he replies, “jus' me 'n my neighbor,” his tone was shaky and scattered. You’re surprised at how easily he finds you in the dark, snaking a hand around your arm before pulling you to your feet, spinning you around, and pressing you against the railing of the elevator. It was impressive how he didn’t care to ask; no questions – just do it. It was exactly what you looked for needed.

A fervid moan rolls off the tip of your tongue as he pushes your jean mini skirt up, letting it sit loose around your waist. His long fingers smooth over your clothed heat, making a throbbing sensation increase in your cunt, your slick arousal coating his index and middle finger as it seeps through your panties. His voice fiery as he groans out in awe, “already s’wet f’me, babygirl.” You didn’t know if it was his touch or his words, but one of them causes a carnal cry to erupt from your chest, rocking your hips towards him impatiently, “mph — all f’you, daddy.” 

You push the words out in such a pornographic manner, making it impossible for Matt to hold back any longer. The operator's voice comes out muffled thru the intercom, “sorry for the inconvenience, we have the fire department en route to get you out. Please remain calm and don’t panic.” 

Matt digs his fingertips into the lacy fabric that make up your panties, a faint ripping sound fills the room as he yanks them to the side roughly, causing a heaven-like moan to fall from your lips. He runs the tip of his cock along your folds, collecting as much of your juices as he can before lining himself up with your entrance, “ready, baby?” he asks lowly, not giving you time to reply before he thrusts into you with one long stroke. A gasp filled with a mixture of pain and pleasure creeps from the back of your throat, Matt leans forward to press a kiss to your shoulder, burying himself deeper into your pussy. “Fu — fuck, Matt,” you whine, flinging a hand back to push against his stomach. To your dismay, he’s intertwining your fingers in a matter of seconds, using your weight as leverage to catch a certain rhythm, not giving you much time to adjust to his thick size as he continuously plows into your sopping wet cunt. 

You let out a string of soft, submissive moans, he keeps his pace steady, your still fingers laced together while his other hand fists your jean skirt that pooled at your waist, “M — att, Matt, Matt,” you chant out in a lascivious mantra. The feeling of his long, girthy cock teasing your cervix each time he thrusts in and out of your wetness has you ready to come undone at any given moment. It amazed you how well he could manipulate your body when he was barely acquainted with your mind. He fucked you like he knew your body, like he had studied for years. 

You fall forwards once Matt unlocks his death grip on your hand, using the elevators railing for more support as he bucks his hips against you. His strong grip making its way around your neck, he gives it a light squeeze as his own way of signaling you to lean back against him. You do just that, letting your small figure melt into his tall build. His opposite hand slowly inches down your stomach until it's placed between your thighs, teasing circles around your sensitive bundle of nerves, earning soft whimpers from you, “what’s my name, baby?” his voice is dark and raspy like before, salacious if you could describe it. It only made you want to hear more. Arching your back against his frontside and bringing a hand up to lace through his hair, you tell him exactly what he wants to hear, “da — daddy,” you stamper over the moans refusing to let you form full sentences or even get a complete word out. 

The magic title triggers him, each snap of his hips makes him bury his cock deeper inside your cunt, earning loud repetitive mewls from you and low, raspy grunts from him, “Matt — daddy I — fuck!”

Matt keeps you pressed into his strong build, his grasp tightening around your neck as your thrash in his arms. He leaves a trail of wet, sloppy kisses down the nape of your neck as he places your orgasm in front of you; quite literally handing it to you like a present wrapped in a pretty pink bow. “I know, baby — mph! — me too.” His thumb still works tight circles onto your clit, applying just enough pressure to make those blissful moans roll off the tip of your tongue. He loved every minute of it – his cock ramming into you at a rapid pace, your sweet, sacred moans echoing off the ancient walls, the rocking of the box-like cubicle as he fucks you out. He thrived off every moment he shared with you, sexual or not.

The little ball of bliss piling up in your gut finally dares to break loose, making it unbearable to ignore or to keep quiet. Your knees go weak, and your body convulses uncontrollably as you collapse against him fully, “oh my god! – I'm cum –,” your chest vibrating as another lewd mewl erupts from it, cutting your words off as a small stream of fluid squirts out of your fucked out cunt, coating the carpeted floors of the elevator. Your body goes limp, your chest heaving while Matt gives you a few more thrusts.

Your mind spun at the feeling of your annoyingly handsome upstairs neighbor making you climax, in a matter of minutes, under his control again. He releases you from his grip, only to push you forward, his grip firm on your waist to hold you in place, he pulls his cock out of your stretched pussy as quickly as he can before painting your ass cheek with his own cum. Heavy pants from the both of you fill the room, “fuck — d’you jus' squirt?” You can feel the redness creep up to your face almost immediately. You weren’t sure if you did or not, but you knew it was something you had never done before. With that being said, you’d rather not talk about it, “mphh — I don’t know,” one last moan flees your lips as he gives your ass one final squeeze, the ghosting of his hands leaving a burning sensation on your skin. 

After collecting yourself, using one of Matt’s extra t-shirts he had stashed in his bag to blindly clean off the leftover residue of his cum; you just prayed you got it all. You and Matt sit in the darkness, your phone light reflecting off your face as the two of you sit in awkward silence. He clears his throat, his voice softer than before, “y’mad at me?” 

You let out a sarcastic chuckle, “am I mad at you for ruining my night and getting me stuck in a scary death trap of an elevator?” 

“Huh,” he spits out, matching your sarcastic tone, “I think the way I fucked you was a pretty good apology,” even though you couldn’t see his face that well, you knew a sly smirk was engraved deep in his expression. You look up at him, trying to make out the figure of his face in the dark before remembering you have a phone light to blind him with. You turn you flash on with one swift tap of your finger, shining it directly in his eyes, making him squint as you glare up at him, “savor it while you can because I will never fuck you again.” 

Matt rolls his eyes, not taking you seriously at all. You furrow your eyebrows at him, colliding your phone into the side of his thick skull, “and if you even think about telling anyone you fucked me, I will —,” your sweet, honey-like voice gets cut off by Matt pressing his lips to your once again. What was this kids problem?

He pulls away with a goofy smile plastered across his face, “I love it when you get aggressive,” he coos lightly, earning a forced groan from you as you fight back a smile that tries so badly to make itself known. 

A few moments later, the doors to the elevator gap open, allowing the bright hallway lights to peer through. You can see the fireman’s face as he peeks through the gap, “everybody alright? Nobody’s hurt?” 

Matt keeps his eyes stuck on you like glue, “yeah we’re both okay,” a goofy smile pulls at his lips, making the one you had been biting back the whole time finally let loose. You smack at his arm, “it’s not funny, Matt. You got us stuck,” snapping at him as you desperately try to wipe the ear-to-ear grin off your face, your cheeks tinted a light shade of pink as you look away from him.

The firemen work on freeing you from the dark prison you had been trapped in for the past two hours, queuing the both of you to crawl through the gap one at a time. Of course, your upstairs neighbor — being the true gentleman he is — made sure to give you a boost. He also made sure his hands stayed on your ass as he lifted you up through the gaped doors, “get your hands off my ass, you perv!” you snap at him as the two firemen in front of you help you to your feet. Your comment earns a muffled, “jus’ trying to help, geez,” from Matt who was still trapped in the dark space below.

Once you're finally on your feet, you can see the group of firefighters, along with Matt’s two brothers and the maintenance man, standing close by with knowing smirks etched on their faces. You can hear one of his brothers mumble something like, " there should be a 'no sex in the elevator' rule from now on," which leaves you running for your apartment like a deer caught in headlights. Your head hangs low, you don't dare to make eye contact with any of them as you do your walk run of shame up the stairs. Matt’s deep voice bouncing off the hallway walls once you’re on your designated floor, “m’never leaving you alone, y/n!” You fumble with your keys as his footsteps patter up the stairs, weighing in on you quickly, muffled laughs falling close behind as you unlock your door.

‘At least he didn’t cum in me this time,’ was the only thought running rampant through your mind as you entered your apartment. You let the heavy door slam shut behind you, pressing your back against it, dropping your bag as you slide to the floor. “What the fuck jus’ happened?” you murmur to yourself, pinching the bridge of your nose of out stress. You had mixed emotions about the whole ordeal, being imprisoned in an ancient death trap the last two hours. Wendy doesn’t allow you to stay distraught for long since you were late feeding her dinner, she prances up to you, her repeated meows bringing serotonin to your soul. A smile makes its way to your lips as you give Wendy a few pets, pulling yourself to your feet to prep her dinner and place your doordash order in the process

♡‧₊˚ Cheys Note - I'm making it a new goal to give you guys a longer fics every once in a while!! I feel like this add a lot of character development to Brat and Neighbor!Matt's dynamic. Let me know what you guys think?! And as always, thank you to my girl @sweetshuga for her expert opinions ❤️‍🔥

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[dreamersworldduh]

A MUCH NEEDED BREAK

• MECHANIC! TOM HOLLAND x MALE!READER

SUMMARY — Tom, a dedicated workaholic striving to save for a dream home for you both, often struggled to balance his demanding schedule with your relationship. Despite never losing your spark, the intimacy and connection you shared had been overshadowed by his relentless focus on work. So you plan a much-needed vacation with hopes that Tom would rediscover the importance of these moments together.

WARNING! 18+ MDNI. Suggestive Langauge. Swearing.

WORDS! 9.8k

AUTHOR'S NOTE! We all know Tom is a taken man, but a guy can sure dream—you see what I did there, heh?…okay sorrry—I have a few more works coming out today so be on the lookout. Happy reading😉✨

Vacations play a vital role in preserving and improving your mental well-being, acting as a much-needed pause from the demands of daily life. They serve as a true reset button, offering an opportunity to recharge, refocus, and restore balance to your mind and body. This belief has been a cornerstone of your personal philosophy, one you've adhered to faithfully since the moment you could finally afford to indulge in the luxury of stepping away from your routine. Whether it's the peaceful solitude of a mountain retreat, the invigorating energy of a bustling city, or the restorative calm of a beachside escape, you've come to recognize that these breaks are not just indulgences—they are essential investments in your overall health and happiness. Each trip reinforces the idea that taking time for yourself isn't a selfish act but a necessary one, providing the clarity and renewal needed to return to life's challenges with fresh perspective and vitality.

However, convincing your workaholic boyfriend, Tom Holland, to take a break is no easy task. In this universe, Tom is a dedicated mechanic, pouring his heart and soul into his craft. He spends countless hours working late into the night, his hands perpetually smeared with grease, his mind focused on perfecting his trade. His determination stems from a deeply personal goal—he's tirelessly saving up to buy the two of you a home, a place where you can finally start the next chapter of your lives together. For the past five years, the two of you have shared a cozy but cramped apartment, its worn furniture and limited space serving as both a testament to your love and a reminder of the life you're working so hard to build. Tom's commitment to making that dream a reality often leaves little room for leisure, and while his passion and ambition are admirable, they make the task of persuading him to step away from his tools and take a well-deserved break a monumental challenge. Yet, you know that even the most driven hearts need rest, and you're determined to show him that taking a moment to recharge won't just benefit him—it'll strengthen the bond you've built together.

As his boyfriend, you see it as your responsibility—and privilege—to take care of him, even though his stubborn nature often makes it a challenge. Tom is fiercely independent, always insisting he can handle everything on his own, whether it's working late into the night at the garage or pushing through exhaustion without so much as a second thought. He's the type of person who bottles up his stress, brushes off his fatigue, and says, "I'm fine," even when it's clear he's running on empty. But you know him better than anyone, and you've learned to read between the lines, catching the subtle signs of wear and tear he tries so hard to hide.

So, you take it upon yourself to step in where he won't. You make sure he eats proper meals, often sneaking into the garage to leave a container of his favorite food on his workbench when he's too focused to come home for dinner. You remind him to take breaks, offering a gentle touch on his shoulder or a softly spoken, "You've been at this for hours—come sit with me for a bit." When he comes home late, tired and quiet, you're there with a warm blanket, a cup of tea, and a patient ear, ready to listen if he feels like venting or simply offering him the comforting silence he sometimes needs.

Even when his stubbornness leads to little arguments—like when he refuses to rest because "there's too much to do"—you approach him with understanding, knowing his determination comes from a place of love and a desire to build a better life for the two of you. Taking care of him isn't always easy, but it's never a burden. For every moment you spend looking out for him, there's an unspoken bond of trust and affection, a quiet acknowledgment that while he may be strong and independent, he doesn't have to carry the weight of everything alone. That's what love is to you—being there for him, even when he's too stubborn to ask for it.

When it came to planning your much-needed vacation, Tom always found a way to back out at the last minute. He'd come up with a list of reasons why he couldn't go—there was always too much work at the garage, or he couldn't afford to lose even a single day of income. He'd argue that the house fund was more important than a frivolous trip, or that he simply didn't have the time to take off. No matter how hard you tried to explain how important it was for both of you to get away and recharge, Tom's stubborn streak always seemed to win.

But this time, you weren't taking no for an answer. The two of you had been running on fumes lately, and you could see the toll it was taking on him—his late nights were getting later, his shoulders carried an almost permanent slump, and even his usual spark seemed dimmer than before. You knew he needed this break just as much as you did, even if he couldn't admit it to himself. So, you resolved to convince him, no matter how much effort it took.

You started small, casually dropping hints about how much you missed spending uninterrupted time together. Then, you tried tugging at his heartstrings by reminiscing about your last trip years ago, reminding him how happy and carefree you'd both been. When that didn't work, you brought out the big guns, printing out detailed itineraries, showing him pictures of the serene beaches or lush mountains you'd chosen as your destination, and emphasizing how affordable and manageable it would be. You even promised to handle all the planning, from booking the flights to packing his suitcase, so he wouldn't have to lift a finger.

Still, when his resolve didn't crack, you got creative. You started pointing out how a few days off could actually make him more productive in the long run, explaining that even the hardest workers needed to step away to recharge. You even enlisted a few allies—his coworkers, who teased him about being a workaholic, and mutual friends who told him how much they admired your determination to get him to relax. Slowly but surely, you chipped away at his excuses, all while reminding him how much this time together would mean to you.

By the end, you were ready to pull out every persuasive trick in the book if you had to. You weren't just fighting for a vacation—you were fighting for a chance to reconnect, to remind him (and yourself) that there's more to life than work. You loved him too much to let him keep running himself into the ground, and you were determined to prove that this getaway wasn't a luxury—it was a necessity.

As the two of you got ready for bed, you decided it was time to escalate your efforts to convince Tom. You had tried every rational argument, every heartfelt plea, but nothing had managed to crack his resolve. Now, standing there watching him pull off his shirt and climb into bed, looking both exhausted and irresistibly handsome, you realized it was time to deploy your ace in the hole—a very dirty trick.

Sliding under the covers, you waited until he settled in, propped up slightly against the headboard, flipping through his phone with that furrowed look of focus that never really left him. You shifted closer, the movement catching his attention. Before he could ask what you were up to, you straddled his lap, your knees pressing into the mattress on either side of his hips. Tom glanced up at you with a mixture of curiosity and amusement, his hands instinctively moving to rest on your thighs.

"Babe," he started, his tone light but skeptical, "what are you—"

You cut him off with a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth, your arms slipping around his shoulders as you leaned in closer. His breath hitched slightly when your lips trailed down to his neck, brushing against his skin with a teasing gentleness. "Shh," you murmured, your voice low and sultry. "Just relax."

You could feel the tension in his body start to melt away under your touch as you peppered soft kisses along his neck, lingering in all the spots you knew drove him crazy. His hands tightened slightly on your thighs, and you smiled against his skin, knowing you had his full attention now. Tilting your head so your lips brushed his ear, you whispered, your voice dripping with seduction, "I've been thinking... We've been so busy lately, we haven't had time for ourselves. No time to unwind, no time to really... connect. Don't you think we deserve a little escape?"

His breathing grew heavier as your words sank in, your fingers tangling gently in the hair at the nape of his neck. "A few days away," you continued, your tone promising and tempting, "just you and me. No schedules, no distractions. Just us... making up for all the time we've missed. You know, we haven't had a night like that in weeks."

Tom let out a soft groan, his resolve clearly wavering as his hands slid to your waist. "You're not playing fair," he muttered, his voice low and tinged with a mixture of amusement and surrender.

You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, giving him your most innocent smile, even as your fingers traced lazy circles against his shoulders. "I'm not trying to play fair," you admitted, leaning in to kiss him again, this time with more intent. "I'm trying to remind you how much we need this. How much you need this."

For a moment, he said nothing, his hands tightening around your waist as if debating whether to argue or give in. But as his lips found yours again, and the tension between you melted into something far more enticing, you knew your plan was working. This vacation wasn't just going to happen—it was going to be unforgettable.

After finally convincing Tom the night before, you wasted no time putting your plan into motion. By the time morning rolled around, the sun streaming faintly through the curtains, you were already perched at the edge of the bed with your laptop open, typing away with a victorious grin on your face. Tom, still half-asleep, shuffled around the room, pulling on his usual work clothes—his favorite pair of oil-stained jeans and a simple gray t-shirt—while glancing at you with a mix of amusement and resignation.

"You're really not wasting any time, are you?" he teased, his voice still a little raspy from sleep as he combed his fingers through his messy hair.

"Absolutely not," you replied, barely looking up from the screen. "If I wait too long, you might change your mind, and I am not letting that happen."

Tom chuckled softly, shaking his head as he reached for his boots. "I already said yes, didn't I? I'm not going back on it. Besides," he added, his tone softening as he glanced at you, "you're right. We could both use this."

That little admission only fueled your excitement. You scrolled through the options for flights, carefully comparing departure times and prices, wanting everything to be perfect. Within minutes, you had selected the ideal tickets—just enough time for him to take a few days off without feeling guilty, but long enough for the two of you to truly unwind. With a quick click, the flights were booked, and you moved on to the next task: excursions.

You could hear Tom moving around in the background, the faint clink of his belt buckle as he fastened it and the shuffle of his boots as he laced them up. Occasionally, he'd glance over your shoulder, raising an eyebrow at your excited mutterings about snorkeling tours, hiking trails, or couples' massages. "What are you looking at now?" he asked, grabbing his jacket from the back of a chair.

"Excursions," you said brightly, turning the screen toward him to show a list of options. "What do you think about ziplining? Or maybe a sunset dinner cruise?"

He smirked, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your temple. "Whatever you want, babe. This is your thing—you're the planner."

You stuck your tongue out at him playfully but couldn't hide your excitement. "It's our thing, Tom. I want it to be perfect for both of us."

With that, he grabbed his keys and headed for the door, pausing just long enough to glance back at you. "Just don't forget to pack my stuff, okay? I'm trusting you to handle all this."

“Oh, don't worry," you called after him with a laugh. "I've got it all covered. You just focus on work, and I'll take care of the rest."

As the door closed behind him, you turned your attention back to the screen, your heart racing with anticipation. The flights were booked, the itinerary was coming together, and for the first time in weeks, you felt like you and Tom had something to look forward to—something that was just for the two of you.

After carefully packing up your clothes and Tom's, you took a step back to survey the neatly arranged suitcases, making sure everything was perfectly in order. You'd spent the better part of the afternoon methodically folding and organizing, making sure no detail was overlooked. Tom's favorite worn flannels and comfortable jeans were folded neatly alongside the dressier outfits you'd picked for special evenings out. You even tucked in the t-shirts he always insisted on bringing, despite your protests that they weren't "vacation material."

Your own wardrobe was just as carefully selected, with outfits planned for every scenario—sun-drenched mornings, adventurous afternoons, and romantic dinners under the stars. Each piece was neatly rolled to maximize space, and you couldn't resist slipping in a couple of matching outfits for fun, imagining the two of you strolling together in perfect harmony.

Next to the clothes, you double-checked the small toiletry bag, making sure you'd packed everything from toothbrushes and deodorant to sunscreen and after-sun lotion. You even included a first-aid kit, knowing Tom would roll his eyes at the extra precaution but secretly appreciate your foresight if it came in handy.

In the side pockets of the suitcase, you stashed smaller essentials: chargers for your phones, Tom's favorite pair of earbuds, a paperback novel you'd been meaning to finish, and a travel-size bottle of cologne that always made your heart skip a beat when Tom wore it.

Finally, you zipped the bags closed and placed them by the door, double-checking your checklist to make sure nothing had been forgotten. Passports? Check. Plane tickets? Double check. Hotel reservation confirmation? Safely saved on your phone and printed out as a backup. You even made sure to tuck a surprise gift for Tom—a sleek pair of sunglasses you knew he'd love—into one of the outer pockets.

Standing back to admire your handiwork, you felt a wave of satisfaction wash over you. Everything was perfectly planned, packed, and ready to go. Now all that was left was to convince Tom to stop double-checking his work schedule and fully embrace the idea of relaxing for a few days. You smiled to yourself, knowing that once you got him on that plane, he'd realize you'd thought of everything—and you couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he finally let go and started enjoying the vacation you'd worked so hard to make special.

The plane ride to the island passed in a blur of excitement and anticipation. The steady hum of the engines blended with the soft chatter of other passengers, but your focus was entirely on Tom. Seated next to you, he had finally started to unwind, his gaze fixed on the view outside the small airplane window. The turquoise ocean stretched out endlessly below, dotted with tiny islands fringed by white sand beaches. You caught the way his lips curved into a faint smile as he took it all in, his shoulders relaxing just a little more with every passing mile.

By the time the plane touched down and you stepped onto the warm tarmac, the reality of your getaway began to sink in. The air was rich with the scent of salt and tropical flowers, and the cheerful sound of island music greeted you as you made your way to the car waiting to take you to the villa. Tom, ever curious, rolled down the window almost immediately as you drove, leaning out slightly to get a better view of the island. Palm trees swayed lazily in the breeze, and colorful markets flashed by, filled with locals selling fresh fruit and handmade crafts. You couldn't help but smile as you saw the light in his eyes—a rare moment where he wasn't thinking about work or responsibilities but was simply enjoying the moment.

When you finally pulled up to the villa, even you were struck by its beauty. Nestled in a secluded part of the island, it looked like something out of a dream. The villa's white walls gleamed in the sunlight, accented by soft blue shutters that mirrored the ocean beyond. A wraparound porch offered a breathtaking view of the private beach, and an infinity pool sparkled invitingly just steps away from the front door. Tom climbed out of the car, taking it all in with wide eyes, and for a moment, he seemed completely at a loss for words.

That moment didn't last long, though. As the driver helped unload your luggage, Tom turned to you, his brows furrowing slightly. "Okay, this place is amazing, but... how much did this cost?" he asked, his tone both curious and concerned, his practical nature kicking in as usual. "This doesn't exactly look budget-friendly."

You stepped closer to him, slipping your arms around his waist with a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about that," you said softly, your voice steady and calm. "This is our time to relax, Tom. I've got it all covered, and I promise, it's worth every penny."

His expression wavered between skepticism and gratitude, but you could see him starting to soften. "Are you sure?" he asked, his tone quieter now.

“I'm absolutely sure," you said, squeezing his hand for emphasis. "You work so hard, and we deserve this. Let me take care of you for a change, okay?"

He finally nodded, letting out a small sigh as he pulled you into a hug. "You're too good to me," he murmured against your hair, and you could feel the tension starting to leave his body.

With his concerns temporarily set aside, you led him inside the villa, watching as his eyes lit up again at the sight of the spacious living area, the luxurious bedroom, and the stunning ocean views from every window. As he wandered out onto the porch to admire the beach, you couldn't help but feel a swell of pride. This was exactly what you had envisioned—a chance for both of you to escape, recharge, and enjoy each other's company without a single worry in the world.

The day was warm and golden as you and Tom set out to explore the island, the excitement of being in such a beautiful place pulling both of you from the comfort of the villa. With a map in hand and a sense of adventure in your hearts, you set off, eager to see all the island had to offer. The winding paths led you past lush greenery and vibrant bursts of tropical flowers, their sweet scent hanging in the air. Birds sang softly in the trees, and every now and then, the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore reminded you that paradise was all around.

Your first stop was a charming village tucked away from the main tourist areas. The cobblestone streets were lined with colorful markets and cheerful vendors selling handmade jewelry, woven baskets, and fresh fruit that smelled so sweet and ripe you couldn't resist buying some. Tom was fascinated, picking up trinkets and asking the vendors questions about how they made their goods. You snapped candid pictures of him, capturing the way his face lit up when he tried on a handmade hat or laughed at his own attempts to haggle over a carved wooden figurine.

From there, the two of you ventured to a historical lighthouse perched high on a cliff, its weathered white facade standing proud against the bright blue sky. The climb to the top was steep, but the breathtaking view made every step worth it. The entire island spread out beneath you, a stunning mix of emerald greenery, sparkling turquoise waters, and soft sandy beaches. Tom couldn't stop snapping pictures, alternating between capturing the scenery and stealing moments to take photos of you when you weren't looking. "You're the real view here," he said with a wink, making you laugh and roll your eyes, though your cheeks warmed at his words.

As the sun began its slow descent, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange, you returned to the villa hand in hand, both of you pleasantly tired from the day's adventures. The scent of the ocean grew stronger as you walked up the path, the sound of waves lapping gently at the shore greeting you like an old friend. Inside, you both took a moment to rest, sipping cool water and scrolling through the pictures you'd taken, laughing at the silly ones and marveling at the more artistic shots Tom had managed to capture.

Then it was time to prepare for the evening—a romantic dinner that you'd been looking forward to all day. You showered first, letting the warm water wash away the salt and sand from your skin, while Tom lounged on the porch, enjoying the sunset. When it was his turn, you laid out his clothes—a crisp button-down shirt and lightweight slacks you'd packed specifically for the occasion—and slipped into your own outfit, something simple yet elegant that you knew he'd love.

By the time he emerged from the bathroom, hair damp and looking effortlessly handsome in the clothes you'd picked, you were ready, standing by the window and admiring the last rays of sunlight. His eyes swept over you, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "You look amazing," he said, his voice low and sincere, as he stepped closer to take your hand.

"And you clean up pretty well yourself," you teased, though the warmth in your voice betrayed just how much you meant it.

As evening fell, you and Tom made your way to the villa's elegant restaurant, a hidden gem nestled along the edge of the property with breathtaking views of the ocean. The path was softly lit by flickering lanterns, and the sound of waves gently crashing against the shore set the perfect backdrop for the night ahead. Tom held your hand as you walked, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin, a quiet smile on his face that matched the relaxed atmosphere you both felt after a day of exploring.

When you arrived, the hostess greeted you warmly and led you to a private table on the outdoor terrace. The table was beautifully arranged with a crisp white tablecloth, a centerpiece of tropical flowers, and candles that cast a soft, golden glow against the surrounding darkness. Overhead, the stars were scattered across the sky like diamonds, and the moon's silvery light reflected off the ocean, making it seem as if the water shimmered just for you.

Tom pulled out your chair for you, earning an affectionate laugh and a playful comment about how chivalrous he was tonight. He grinned as he took his seat across from you, his hazel eyes glowing in the candlelight. "Only the best for you," he said softly, his voice carrying that genuine warmth that always made your heart skip a beat.

The menu was exquisite, filled with fresh, locally sourced dishes that celebrated the island's flavors. You both took your time deciding, chatting about the highlights of the day as you sipped on chilled wine that the waiter had recommended. Tom couldn't stop talking about the view from the lighthouse, how beautiful it was, though he teased that it didn't compare to how you looked standing there in the sunset. You rolled your eyes at his cheesy remark, but the way he said it—completely sincere—left you smiling.

When the food arrived, it was nothing short of perfection. Tom had opted for a dish of freshly grilled fish, seasoned with island spices and served alongside roasted vegetables, while you chose a decadent seafood pasta with a rich, creamy sauce. The flavors were bold yet comforting, each bite better than the last. Between bites, you stole glances at Tom, marveling at how the soft candlelight accentuated the sharp lines of his face, the relaxed smile that hadn't left his lips all evening.

As the meal went on, the conversation shifted to lighter topics—dreams of future trips, funny moments from the day, and inside jokes that left you both laughing until your sides hurt. At one point, Tom reached across the table to take your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in that way that always made your heart flutter. "I'm really glad we're here," he said quietly, his voice low and full of emotion. "I didn't think I needed this, but... I did. Thank you."

His words melted any lingering doubts you'd had about convincing him to take this trip. You squeezed his hand, smiling back at him. "You deserve it, Tom. We both do."

For dessert, you shared a decadent chocolate mousse garnished with fresh berries, laughing as Tom tried to swipe an extra bite with his fork when you weren't looking. The night ended with another glass of wine, the two of you lingering at the table long after the other diners had left, simply enjoying the moment and each other's company. As you walked back to the villa hand in hand, the stars lighting your path, you couldn't help but feel like this night was a dream come true—one you'd never forget.

As you both stepped back into the villa, the warm, dim lighting of the space greeted you, creating a cozy and intimate atmosphere. The gentle sound of the ocean waves outside the windows mixed with the soft hum of the villa's ambiance, wrapping the moment in serenity. You barely had time to set your belongings down before Tom turned to you, his hazel eyes dark with a mix of affection and desire.

Without a word, he shrugged off his jacket, letting it fall carelessly to the back of a nearby chair. His hands, calloused but gentle, found your waist, pulling you closer. Before you could speak, he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against the curve of your neck, leaving a trail of featherlight kisses that sent a shiver down your spine. His touch was deliberate, slow, as though savoring every second.

"You looked so beautiful tonight," he murmured against your skin, his voice low and slightly husky. His words, combined with the warmth of his breath, made your heart race. His hands tightened slightly at your waist, anchoring you to him as he pressed another kiss to the sensitive spot just beneath your jawline.

"Tom," you whispered, your voice catching slightly, both a question and an invitation. He responded with a soft hum, the vibrations resonating against your skin as his lips continued their journey. The day's adventures, the romantic dinner, the playful teasing—all of it seemed to culminate in this moment, the world outside fading into nothingness.

His kisses grew more purposeful, and one hand slid up to cradle the back of your neck, his fingers tangling gently in your hair. "I couldn't stop thinking about this all through dinner," he admitted softly, his tone laced with sincerity and want. "You drive me crazy, you know that?"

A soft laugh escaped your lips, though it quickly dissolved into a quiet sigh as he continued his affectionate assault on your neck. Your hands found their way to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. It was a moment of pure connection, his touch conveying everything words couldn't—love, passion, and the need to simply be close to you.

As his lips trailed upward, brushing against your ear before capturing your lips in a kiss that was both tender and electrifying, you felt yourself melting into him completely. The villa, the ocean, the stars outside—it all seemed to exist solely as a backdrop to this moment, a perfect evening shared with the person you loved more than anything.

Your fingers moved instinctively, sliding up to the buttons of his shirt as his lips lingered on yours. One by one, you undid them, the fabric parting to reveal his toned chest beneath. Your hands brushed against his warm skin, feeling the strength in his muscles, the subtle rise and fall of his breath quickening under your touch. Tom's eyes darkened with intensity as he pulled back just slightly, giving you a small, teasing smirk that sent a rush of heat through you.

The sound of shoes being kicked off echoed softly against the villa's polished floors as you both shed them without thought, too wrapped up in each other to care about anything else. The elegant space around you—the plush rug, the glow of soft lanterns, the gentle sound of the ocean beyond—seemed to blur into the background. All that mattered was him, his touch, and the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world.

Without breaking contact, Tom guided you backward, his hands firm yet gentle as they rested on your hips, keeping you close. The back of your knees hit the edge of the couch, and with a shared laugh at the sudden stumble, the two of you sank down together, the leather cool against your skin. Tom hovered over you for a moment, his shirt now hanging open, framing his perfectly sculpted body. His hair was slightly tousled, his lips slightly swollen from the kisses you'd shared, and he looked at you with a mix of mischief and unspoken adoration.

"You're absolutely irresistible, you know that?" he murmured, his voice low and gravelly as he leaned closer, one hand sliding up to cup your face while the other braced against the couch beside you.

Your heart raced as you met his gaze, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "I could say the same about you," you replied, your hands wandering to his now-open shirt, pushing it off his shoulders. The fabric slipped down his arms, revealing the full expanse of his toned chest and strong shoulders, every inch of him a testament to the hours of hard work he put in at the garage. The shirt fell to the floor, forgotten, as he leaned in to kiss you again, his lips warm and insistent.

The couch became your world as the two of you moved together, the weight of the day melting away with every touch, every kiss. It wasn't just passion—it was love, the kind that made everything else seem insignificant compared to the connection you shared in this moment.

As Tom's lips found their way back to your neck, his kisses grew slower, deeper, and more purposeful. Each press of his lips sent waves of warmth coursing through you, making your breath hitch as he lingered on the sensitive spots he knew so well. His hands, warm and steady, moved to your waist, his fingers deftly working to unbuckle your pants. The soft click of the buckle and the gentle tug of the zipper echoed faintly in the quiet villa, the sound mingling with the distant crash of waves outside.

He pressed a kiss just beneath your jawline, his breath warm against your skin as his hand slipped beneath the waistband of your briefs. His touch was firm yet deliberate, his fingers curling around your dick with a confidence that sent a shiver through your body. The sensation was electric, making your heart pound as his hand began to move in slow, measured strokes that left you breathless.

"Relax," Tom murmured against your neck, his voice low and filled with a mixture of affection and desire. His lips brushed against your ear as he added teasingly, "Let me take care of you."

His words, combined with the way his hand worked you with perfect rhythm, made it impossible to focus on anything else. You felt the tension leave your body as you melted into his touch, your hands finding their way to his back, clutching at the muscles beneath his warm skin. Every movement, every kiss, every touch was filled with a tenderness that reminded you just how deeply he cared for you.

As his lips continued their trail along your neck, and his hand skillfully worked you into a state of bliss, it became clear that tonight was about more than just passion—it was about love, connection, and the kind of intimacy that only the two of you could share.

Tom pulled away from your neck, his lips lingering for just a moment as his eyes met yours, dark with intent and desire. His hands slid down to your hips, tugging at the waistband of your pants and briefs in one smooth motion. The fabric slid down your thighs, cool air brushing against your now-exposed skin, heightening the electricity in the room.

He sat back slightly, his gaze traveling over you with a mixture of admiration and hunger, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. "You're gorgeous," he murmured, his voice low and thick with sincerity, as though the words couldn't stay unspoken.

Without breaking eye contact, he brought his hand to his mouth, his tongue slipping out to wet his palm. The deliberate motion sent a shiver through you, your breath hitching as anticipation coiled tightly in your stomach. His fingers glistened as he lathered his hand, the simple act so intimate and unhurried that it made your pulse race.

Tom leaned forward again, his hand finding its place against your dick, the warmth of his touch heightened by the slickness of his spit. His movements were slow at first, testing, teasing, his thumb brushing lightly over your sensitive tip before beginning a steady rhythm. "Better?" he asked softly, his voice carrying a playful edge, though his eyes held nothing but care and focus.

Your head tipped back against the couch, a soft sound escaping your lips as you surrendered completely to the sensation. Tom's free hand rested on your thigh, grounding you, while his touch continued to work its magic. Every stroke was deliberate, every movement sending waves of pleasure through you as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your shoulder, your collarbone, anywhere he could reach.

It wasn't just the physical sensation that had you trembling beneath him—it was the way he looked at you, the way he touched you, as if every moment was dedicated to showing you just how much he loved you.

Tom's hand slowed, his gaze flickering up to meet yours with a teasing glint in his eyes. Without a word, he leaned down, his lips grazing the sensitive skin of your length, his breath warm and tantalizing against you. His tongue darted out, delivering a slow, deliberate lick from the base to the tip, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through you.

The soft, wet heat of his mouth was almost too much to bear, and before you could stop yourself, a low, breathy moan of his name escaped your lips. Hearing it seemed to spur him on, his lips curving into a small, mischievous smile against your skin.

"You like that?" he murmured, his voice low and filled with playful confidence. He didn't wait for an answer, his tongue flicking over your tip in a way that made your fingers grip the couch beneath you. Every movement was precise, designed to elicit the sweetest sounds from you, and the way he watched your reactions—his eyes dark and full of affection—made it all the more intoxicating.

He took his time, savoring every inch of you, alternating between slow, teasing licks and firmer, more purposeful strokes of his tongue. His hands rested on your hips, steadying you as your body responded to him, every nerve alive with pleasure. With every flick of his tongue, every gentle kiss, he seemed determined to unravel you completely, his name falling from your lips in broken, breathless gasps.

Tom paused for a moment, looking up at you with a smug grin. "You're so responsive," he said, his voice filled with both admiration and amusement. "I could do this all night."

The promise in his words sent another wave of heat through you, leaving you completely at his mercy as he leaned down again, his lips and tongue returning to their task, drawing you closer and closer to the edge with every deliberate, loving movement.

Tom continued to work you with expert precision, his hand gliding along your dick in a rhythm that kept your body humming with pleasure. His lips occasionally brushed against you, teasing you with gentle kisses and flicks of his tongue, as if he was savoring every moment. The warmth of his touch, combined with the wet heat of his mouth, had you gripping the couch beneath you, your breathing uneven and shaky as you struggled to keep yourself grounded.

Just when you thought you couldn't take any more, Tom paused, his hand stilling for a moment as he leaned back slightly. His gaze locked onto yours, dark and intense, a small, knowing smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Don't worry," he said softly, his voice low and almost a purr. "I'm not done with you yet."

Without breaking eye contact, he lifted two fingers to his mouth, slipping them past his lips. His tongue swirled around them, coating them thoroughly with his saliva in a way that was deliberate and impossibly seductive. You watched, completely captivated, as he pulled them out slowly, the slick sound sending a shiver through you.

His free hand resting firmly on your thigh as he settled closer to you. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, his gaze steady, filled with affection and a hint of mischief. "Relax," he murmured softly, his voice low and soothing, a gentle reminder for you to trust him.

He traced his fingers teasingly against your hole, the sensation sending a shiver through your body. The cool slickness of his touch contrasted with the warmth of his hand on your thigh, grounding you in the moment. Slowly, carefully, he pressed forward, letting his first finger slip past the tight resistance. The sensation was intense at first, but his movements were patient and deliberate, giving you time to adjust.

"Doing okay?" Tom asked softly, his tone full of care as his thumb brushed against your skin in a comforting gesture. When you nodded, he smiled, his confidence growing as he gently moved his finger in and out, his motions slow and exploratory. It wasn't long before he added a second finger, the stretch a little more pronounced, but the way he worked you—gentle and methodical—helped ease the tension.

His movements grew more purposeful, his fingers curling slightly as he explored, searching for the spot that would send you over the edge. When he found it, the jolt of pleasure that shot through you was electric, your body arching involuntarily as a moan of his name escaped your lips. The sound made him grin, a soft chuckle escaping as he leaned down to kiss the corner of your mouth. "There it is," he murmured, his voice warm and teasing.

Tom's fingers continued to work you with precision, his touch filled with a mix of passion and tenderness. Every movement sent waves of pleasure through you, building steadily as he watched your reactions, his eyes filled with admiration and love. Each sound you made seemed to spur him on, his fingers pressing and curling just right, making it clear that his only goal was your complete and utter satisfaction.

His other hand moved to the waistband of his pants, and with a practiced ease, he began to push them down, his movements fluid and unhurried.

He shifted slightly, the fabric of his pants and boxers sliding down his hips and pooling at his ankles. The muscles in his toned body flexed with every motion, the candlelight from the villa catching on his skin, highlighting every sharp line and curve. Yet, even as he undressed, his fingers never faltered inside you, maintaining that perfect rhythm that had you teetering on the edge of bliss.

"Keep your eyes on me," Tom murmured, his voice low and rough with desire, his lips curling into a small, teasing smile. He stepped out of the discarded clothing, completely bare now, and the sight of him only added to the heat coursing through you. Every inch of him was breathtaking, from the sharp lines of his jaw to the strength in his frame, and the way his confidence radiated made it impossible to look anywhere else.

His free hand returned to your thigh, his touch grounding and warm as his fingers inside you pressed deeper, curling just right to hit that spot that made your vision blur and your breath catch. "You're so perfect," he whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to your parted lips, his voice laced with adoration. "I could do this forever."

Tom's body hovered close to yours now, his bare skin warm against you as his fingers worked with a precision that left you breathless. The intimacy of the moment—the connection between you—was overwhelming in the best possible way, a perfect mix of passion and love that left no room for anything else but him.

Soon his fingers slowed their motion, his touch deliberate and teasing as he watched your face with a soft smile. He pressed one kiss onto your lips before pulling his fingers out carefully, leaving you with a mix of emptiness and anticipation that made your heart race. His hands moved to your hips, steadying you as he shifted his position, his body close and warm against yours.

His dick, already hard and flushed with arousal, brushed against you, sending sparks of heat through your body. He reached down to guide himself, the tip of his length pressing against your entrance with just enough pressure to make you gasp. "Relax," he murmured again, his voice low and soothing, his eyes locked onto yours. "I've got you."

Without hesitation, Tom pushed forward, sliding into you in one slow, fluid motion. The stretch was intense, a mix of pleasure and pressure that made your back arch and your breath hitch. He paused for a moment, giving you time to adjust, his hands tightening on your hips as if anchoring himself to you. His head dipped to your shoulder, and you could hear the low groan that escaped his lips, the sound vibrating against your skin as he fought to keep himself steady.

"God," he murmured, his voice husky and strained, "you feel incredible."

When he felt you relax beneath him, he began to move, pulling back slightly before pressing forward again, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, each one designed to build the pleasure between you. His hands roamed your body, one sliding up to cradle your face while the other held your hip, his grip firm but tender. "Look at me," he whispered, his voice full of affection and desire, as his eyes searched yours. "I want to see you."

The connection between you was electric, every movement drawing you closer to him, every sound he made sending another wave of pleasure through you. As his rhythm grew more confident, his thrusts deep and purposeful, it became impossible to think about anything but him—the way he filled you, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word was a testament to the love and passion you shared, the moment so intimate and consuming that the rest of the world seemed to fade away.

Suddenly, Tom shifted his position, his hands firm but gentle as he grabbed one of your legs, lifting it effortlessly to rest on his shoulder. The change in angle sent a jolt of pleasure through your body, pulling a gasp from your lips. He held your other leg securely with his free hand, steadying you as he pressed forward, his thrusts deeper and more deliberate now.

The new position intensified every sensation, the depth and rhythm of his movements driving you to the edge. Tom's lips brushed against the skin of your ankle resting on his shoulder, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. "You're amazing," he murmured, his voice thick with a mix of admiration and desire, his gaze fixed on you with unwavering intensity. "So perfect."

You couldn't help but laugh breathlessly, your hands gripping the couch beneath you as you adjusted to the stretch. "Guess all those yoga classes paid off," you teased, your voice catching between moans. You were grateful that flexibility was something you hadn't lost over the years, and now, in this moment, it felt like the best decision you'd ever made.

Tom grinned at your comment, his expression softening for just a moment before his focus returned to the connection between you. His thrusts grew more confident, his grip on your leg tightening as he leaned forward slightly, his body pressing closer to yours. Each movement sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, the stretch and the angle hitting spots that left you utterly undone.

"You feel so good," Tom groaned, his voice low and husky as his pace quickened, the intensity between you building with every motion. The sound of your name falling from his lips, mixed with the rhythm of his body moving against yours, was almost enough to send you over the edge. His free hand slid up your thigh, caressing your skin in a way that was both grounding and electrifying, keeping you completely lost in the moment.

Tom's movements slowed for just a moment, his grip on your leg tightening slightly as his forehead rested against your ankle. His breathing was heavy, his chest rising and falling with the exertion, but his eyes found yours, soft and full of unspoken emotion. "I've missed this," he murmured, his voice low and husky, tinged with an honesty that made your heart ache. "I've missed you—this."

His confession sent a wave of warmth through you, the intimacy of the moment deepening in a way that made everything else fade away. You could see it in his expression, the longing, the love, the way he was holding on to every second as if trying to make up for lost time. Despite how strong your bond was, you both knew how his demanding work schedule often pulled him away, leaving precious little time for moments like this. And even though your spark had never dimmed, it was rare to have the space to truly reconnect—not just physically, but emotionally.

You reached up, your fingers brushing against his cheek, feeling the heat of his skin beneath your touch. "I've missed this too," you admitted softly, your voice filled with the same vulnerability. "Not just this... but being close to you like this."

Tom's lips curled into a small, wistful smile as he pressed a kiss to the inside of your calf, his hand caressing your thigh with a tenderness that made your chest tighten. "I hate how work takes so much time away from us," he said, his tone laced with regret. "I don't ever want you to feel like I'm not here for you. You mean everything to me."

Hearing those words, feeling the sincerity behind them, was enough to make tears well in your eyes. But before you could say anything, Tom leaned forward again, adjusting his position to press his body closer to yours, his thrusts resuming with a deliberate slowness that conveyed just how much this moment meant to him. Every movement was filled with purpose, a silent promise that he was here, with you, fully present.

As the rhythm between you built again, the connection deepened, every kiss, every touch, every whispered word reaffirming the love that had always been there. This wasn't just about intimacy—it was about remembering what mattered most, about finding each other again in the quiet space away from the world's distractions. It was a moment that neither of you would forget, a reminder that no matter how busy life got, your love would always bring you back to each other.

By the time you stirred awake, the afternoon sun was already pouring through the villa's large windows, casting warm golden light across the room. You stretched lazily, sinking deeper into the soft sheets as the unmistakable aroma of food wafted through the air. Something savory and buttery mixed with the faint sweetness of tropical fruit and the rich scent of coffee. Your stomach growled in response, and you smiled to yourself, savoring the peaceful quiet of the moment.

Glancing toward the open doorway, your curiosity was rewarded with the sight of Tom in the kitchen. He stood at the stove, dressed in nothing but his black briefs, his toned body on full display, glowing in the sunlight that streamed through the windows. His hair was slightly messy, still tousled from sleep, and he was humming quietly as he cooked.

But what really caught your attention was the way he moved—swaying his hips in time with a beat only he could hear, adding an occasional spin or exaggerated shoulder roll as he worked. His little dance was carefree and playful, a side of him that you didn't always get to see in the hustle of daily life. You bit back a laugh as he shuffled over to the counter, grabbing a bowl of something with an almost theatrical flourish, then turned back to the stove with an exaggerated spin that nearly caused him to drop the spatula.

Your soft laugh broke the silence, and his head shot up, his hazel eyes meeting yours. A slow, mischievous smirk spread across his face as he placed the spatula down on the counter. "Well, look who finally decided to join me," he teased, resting one hand on his hip as he gave you an amused once-over. "Good afternoon, sleepyhead."

Still half-buried in the sheets, you reached for your phone and glanced at the time. Your eyes widened when you realized it was late into the afternoon. "Wait... it's already this late?" you murmured, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. "I didn't realize how tired I was."

Tom chuckled as he turned back to the stove, expertly flipping something in the skillet. "I'm not surprised," he said over his shoulder. "After last night, I figured you'd need all the rest you could get." His voice was casual, but the cheeky tone underlying his words made your cheeks flush as memories of the previous evening came flooding back.

You swung your legs over the side of the bed, wrapping yourself in a robe as you padded toward him. "And what's this?" you asked, nodding toward the spread of food on the counter—eggs, fresh fruit, toast, and even a small carafe of freshly brewed coffee. "You're cooking now?"

He glanced at you, his smirk widening as he turned off the burner and slid the contents of the skillet onto a plate. "I figured you deserved breakfast in paradise after last night," he said, his voice low and teasing as he set the plate down on the counter and stepped closer to you.

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms in mock skepticism. "Breakfast? At two in the afternoon?"

Tom shrugged, leaning in slightly, the playful glint in his eyes impossible to miss. "Hey, good things take time. Besides," he added, brushing a quick kiss against your temple, "I'm not letting you lift a finger today. You're on vacation."

His words made you smile, and you shook your head fondly, leaning into him for a moment before glancing at the spread again. "Well, I could get used to this," you teased.

Tom laughed, giving you a wink as he grabbed a cup of coffee and handed it to you. "You'd better. It's not every day you get a shirtless chef who can cook and dance."

You couldn't help but laugh, the warmth of his affection and the ease of his teasing filling you with a contentment that made you feel truly spoiled. As the two of you settled down at the small dining table on the villa's porch, the world seemed to pause in serene perfection. The warm island breeze danced around you, carrying the soothing sounds of waves gently crashing on the shore and the occasional rustle of palm leaves swaying in rhythm. The view before you stretched out into endless turquoise waters that sparkled under the late-morning sun, creating a postcard-perfect backdrop for the intimate meal Tom had prepared.

The breakfast was simple yet thoughtfully crafted, a reflection of Tom's care for you. Fluffy scrambled eggs, golden and steaming, sat next to a plate of fresh tropical fruit—slices of juicy mango, sweet pineapple, and perfectly ripe papaya. The toast was lightly crisped, accompanied by a small pot of locally made jam that glistened like tiny jewels under the sunlight. In the center of the table, a pot of freshly brewed coffee sent up wisps of fragrant steam. Tom poured two cups, the dark liquid filling the mugs with comforting warmth, before taking his seat across from you. His movements were unhurried, his expression relaxed—a rare sight compared to the usual work-driven intensity he carried back home.

As he sat, the light seemed to catch on his features in a way that softened them further. His hair was a mess of waves, still slightly tousled from the bed, and his jaw held a faint scruff that added to his effortless charm. For a moment, you simply watched him, marveling at how different he seemed here—untethered from the constant demands of his job, entirely present in this peaceful moment with you.

Tom took a bite of his eggs, savoring the meal for a moment before setting down his fork and leaning forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table. His gaze met yours, steady and filled with a sincerity that made your chest tighten. "I meant everything I said last night," he began, his voice low but brimming with conviction. "I've missed this—missed us. And I hate that my schedule makes it so hard for us to have moments like this."

His words hung in the air, the honesty behind them striking a chord deep within you. Your fork paused mid-air as you absorbed what he was saying, your heart both warmed and heavy at the same time. Tom reached across the table, taking your hand in his own, his thumb tracing slow, grounding circles over your knuckles. "I know I get caught up in work," he continued, his tone tinged with a vulnerability he didn't often show. "I know I push myself too hard, and it takes me away from you—takes time I can't get back. But last night... it reminded me why I need to do better. I promise, I'm going to let up on my work schedule. I don't want to keep missing moments like this with you."

The weight of his words hit you fully, a blend of tenderness and regret woven into his every syllable. His eyes, warm and earnest, searched yours as though seeking reassurance. You could see the struggle in him—the balance between his overwhelming sense of responsibility and his love for you. Just as you felt the swell of emotions rise, Tom added, his voice quieter but no less determined, "But I also need you to understand... I'm not going to stop working toward our dream home. I know I can get a little obsessed with it, but I'm doing it for us. I just want to give you everything you deserve."

Your heart swelled with affection, even as a pang of concern struck you at how much pressure he placed on himself. Squeezing his hand, you let a soft smile curve your lips as you held his gaze. "Tom," you said gently, your voice steady but filled with emotion, "I don't need a dream house to be happy. I just need you. Moments like this—us, together—that's what matters most to me."

Tom's lips quirked into a small, sheepish smile, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "I know," he said after a moment, his voice almost a whisper. "And I'm going to work on finding that balance. For you, for us."

The unspoken emotions between you lingered in the air as you returned to your meal, savoring the flavors and the quiet connection you shared. Tom's promise wasn't just empty words—it was the first step toward a future where your love and connection wouldn't have to compete with the weight of life's demands. The sound of the ocean played softly in the background, the breeze carrying the faint scent of salt and flowers, and as you sat there with the man you loved, sharing this rare and perfect moment, you knew you were exactly where you were meant to be.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[milessunflowers]

Hello! Um... lestappen (they aren't together, not because they don't want to be but because it doesn't feel right) being happy about seeing their shared crush again after not seeing him because he decided to go to nascar only for him to switch to formula 1 for 2025 because he accepted the offer the new team gave him and because he missed them too. (Feel like lestappen doesn't tell reader that they have been in love with him since f3 because they thought he was straight, male reader thought that max was straight and charles was bisexual leaning to women and also didn't tell them he was in love with them)

Also! Love everything you've written so far! Love the franco, paper rings, fic its my fav so far!!!

–🍑

thank you so much peach!! that motivates me so much!! also this idea *chefs kiss*

max verstappen x male!reader x charles leclerc

synopsis: when you finally make your debut back in the world of formula racing, max and charles come to terms with how much they loved you, leading to you finally confessing.

author's note: okay so after some practice, i am now comfortable enough that i can write well enough for a driver!reader. for purposes, cadillac will already be a team and reader will be american AND LOGAN IS HIS TEAMMATE BC I SAY SO (miss my american sm😔) EVEN IF IT IS ONLY BRIEFLY MENTIONED. anyways, feel free to request, read the guidelines first ofc! (also apologies for the lack of dialogue in this one. i kinda forgot how to write good dialogue and kinda just let things flow! felt right for the vibes to me idk)

formula one, a true dream come true for you. you had raced in earlier formula series, alongside the likes of now four time world champion, max verstappen, and ferrari golden boy, charles leclerc. you hadn't seen them in a few tears as you had been busy racing in nascar, dominating the tracks at almost every track. you missed them, more than you would ever admit.

when you first heard that cadillac would be joining formula one as a brand new team, you felt sparks of hope erupt deep in your chest. maybe, just maybe, you would finally get the chance to race against your once competitors (and the two men who were your first real crushes).

you hadn't expected to be approached by your manager with a multi-year deal with the american team. without a second thought, you signed immediately, ecstatic that you could prove yourself to those you grew up racing, not including your all-time hero, fernando alonso. you couldn't keep in your excitement, which was clear to everyone in your immediate circle, including your new teammate and mentee (who in reality is a year younger than you), logan sargeant.

when it was revealed you were to be racing for the newest addition to the paddock, max and charles had almost the same reaction: joyful nervousness. they realized all to late the feelings they harbored for you.

but now... now you're back. it was exciting and terrifying for the two men, who have grown accustomed to only really seeing each other and never acknowledging those feelings.

to say that you were all big fat chickens was an understatement.

the first time you reappeared in the busy paddock, charles felt his heart jump to his throat while max just felt frozen. in ways, they each thought you looked better, less stressed and more mature. you seemed genuinely happy, especially in what they always called your natural habitat. you were a social able person after all.

they struck up small conversations during the driver's parade, mainly catching up and swapping jokes. it reminded you three of the old times, even if max and charles back then had some sort of beef. it made you feel even happier and more excited to be back and racing in the formula series.

it took a good few races before the three of you finally shared a podium. you would have never expected to feel more excited about p2 then now. in the cool down room, you chatted heartedly with max, awaiting for the winner to finally arrive. once the three of you were together, it was nothing but subtle flirting and chatter until it was time to go to the podium. even there (save for during monaco's national anthem as well as the italian one ringing) the three would not shut up.

it wasn't until the after party at the club where the three of you drank half of your body weight, confessing with no shame to each other. you couldn't remember the night, having had way too much to drink after celebrating your first podium of the season.

when you awoke the morning, you were in an unfamiliar hotel room, a warm weight behind you. you groan awake, blinking as the morning sun shone bright through the curtains, bathing yourself, max verstappen, and charles leclerc in a beautiful golden li-

wait, max and charles? you sobered up real quick and scrambled out of bed, falling with a loud thud in the process. you curse yourself, trying to grab whatever shirt was closest and pulling it on.

charles was the next one awake, stirring on the farthest side of the bed where he had curled around max. he blinked those beautiful eyes awake, a soft smile gracing your lips before you snapped out of it.

this couldn't be happening. you were half panicked, half happy to have woken up with the two men you had secretly loved for years but never, in a million lifetimes, would have ever thought were anything but into you. charles rubbed the sleep from his eyes, not yet having caught on what was happening. you stood there dumbly, still as a statue as you both finally made eye contact.

you chuckled awkwardly and charles let out a surprised yelp, loud enough to startle the last man asleep awake. you stared at each other for a good, long, ten seconds before max broke the silence with a cough before he sat up, as if all this was casual. it was very on brand for the dutchman.

it was quiet again, charles blinking blankly while you scrambled to collect your belongings. max stops you, sits you back down on the bed, and tries to calm you and charles down. and for some reason, it was too easy for him to.

he was gentle and sweet, carefully explaining what was going (or at least what he thought) before he finally comes clean, opening up about his feelings. after that, it was easy for you and charles to do the same, just in a slightly less organized and calm manner. it was no longer awkward but sweet and caring, soothing each nerve in the three bodies to a nice, warm hum.

you offered to make breakfast while max and charles cleaned up. from then on, it had become routine. from the hotel stays in different countries, to moving into the same apartment in monaco now overrun with pets. it was healthy and well established, the three of you keeping things strictly business at work but at home, leaving raving behind for a nice night in with the lobes of your life.

TAGS! (if you would like to be added, lmk!)

@op-81-lvr-reblogs, @koalapastries, @justaf1girl, @ghostking4m

[bamgyuuuri]

⤷ delicate ┈ cbg.

pairing. beomgyu x afab!reader . angst . moral dilemmas word count. 1.1k short note ... im supposed to be studying for exams tmr but ended up writing this drabble instead,, ;P i’ll actually get to the reqs sent to me once i finish finals i promise omg

all your friends despised beomgyu.

their hatred wasn’t casual, the kind born out of a passing annoyance or a small slight, no. it was deep, raw, and visceral, the kind of hatred that grew roots in every whispered conversation, every sharp glance, every cruel joke that lingered in the air long after it was said.

“he’s the worst kind of person,” one of your friends said one evening, her voice tight and bitter as she stabbed at her salad with her fork.

the group was seated in your favorite booth at the diner, the one you always shared late into the night, laughter echoing against the walls—except tonight was different. tonight, the atmosphere was tense, heavy. “he didn’t just lead her on. he used her.”

your other friends nodded, their agreement coming in muttered curses and sharp scoffs.

“what he did to her exactly?” another leaned forward, her voice dropping into an almost conspiratorial whisper, like the words were too vile to say out loud. 

“he led her on for months. months. and then just... disappeared. like she was nothing. like she didn’t even matter. god, if i ever see him again, i don’t know what i’d do.”

“honestly,” one of them said, turning to look directly at you, “i don’t get how you’re so calm about this. if i were you, i’d never be able to even think about him without wanting to scream.”

your throat tightened. you stared into your untouched drink, watching the condensation drip down the glass like it held the answers to the storm raging inside you.

you wanted to say something. you wanted to tell them that they were wrong, that the boy they described wasn’t the beomgyu you knew. but how could you? how could you speak up without unraveling the tangled mess of lies and secrets you had been holding together with trembling hands?

because the truth was something they could never know.

they didn’t know that while your friend had been falling for beomgyu, he had been falling for someone else.

he had been falling for you.

the guilt had been unbearable at first. it clawed at you, sinking its sharp, unrelenting talons into your chest every time your friend cried on your shoulder, her voice trembling as she whispered, “what did I do wrong?”

you held her, whispered reassurances you didn’t even believe, all the while knowing that you were the reason her heart had been broken.

you told yourself you would walk away. that you had to.

but then he would look at you with those eyes, dark and full of something so raw and vulnerable it made your knees weak. his walls would crumble, just for you, and the boy they all hated became someone entirely different. someone you couldn’t let go of.

“do you hate me too?” he had asked one night, his voice quiet and small, like he was afraid of the answer. you were sitting on the floor of your bedroom, the soft glow of a candle flickering between you. he was leaning back on his hands, his gaze fixed on you, searching, waiting.

your breath caught. “what?”

“everyone else does,” he continued, his lips twitching into a humorless smile. “so I figure… maybe you do too. maybe you should.”

your heart shattered. “beomgyu—”

“i know what they think of me,” he interrupted, his voice trembling now, cracking under the weight of emotions he couldn’t hold back. “i know what they say. and maybe… maybe they’re right. maybe I am horrible. but…” he reached for you then, his hand brushing against yours, warm and hesitant. “when i’m with you, it doesn’t feel like I’m that person. you make me want to be better. you make me feel like… like maybe I can be.”

you had no words. his gaze burned into you, his eyes filled with something so achingly sincere it made it hard to breathe.

but the guilt was still there, a sharp blade twisting in your chest, cutting deeper with every moment you stayed. you knew what your friends would think if they found out, the way their faces would contort with anger, with betrayal. you could hear their accusations, their voices dripping with venom. how could you do this to her? how could you do this to us?

and yet, despite the weight of it all, you couldn’t walk away.

because you loved him.

and that made it worse, somehow.

it wasn’t just that you were keeping a secret that would destroy everything. it was that you didn’t want to stop. you didn’t want to let him go, even though you knew you should. even though every moral fiber in your being screamed at you to end it, to put the pieces back together before it was too late.

but how could you leave when he looked at you like that? like you were the only person who had ever truly seen him?

how could you leave when his voice trembled as he whispered your name, when his hands shook as they traced over your skin, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go?

how could you leave when, for all his flaws, for all the mistakes he had made, he was still the boy you loved?

“you should hate me,” you whispered one night, your voice breaking as the words tumbled out. the two of you were lying in bed, tangled together in the darkness. his arm was draped over your waist, his breath warm against your neck. “you should hate me for doing this. for not stopping it.”

he didn’t answer at first. his hold on you tightened, his fingers digging into your side like he was trying to keep you there, trying to stop you from slipping away.

“i could never hate you,” he said finally, his voice barely audible. “even if I should.”

your chest ached, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a thousand bricks.

you wanted to believe him. god, you wanted to believe him. but the guilt was always there, a constant reminder of the line you had crossed, the trust you had broken.

you didn’t know if you deserved happiness. not when it came at the expense of someone else’s pain. but when he held you like this, when he whispered your name like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to this world, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

because no matter how wrong it was, no matter how much it hurt, you loved him.

and maybe that made you just as horrible as they thought he was.

taglist! @pagelets, @jettithink, @killa-1009, @j-ji-jia, @frankghgr, @dawngyu @unusuallyunlikelyfox @sxmmerberries @napipope-ta <3 (click here if you would like to be added ^_^)

[featherlovesrobots]

➔ “Hey. Mind playing for me for a while…? It helps me sleep.” ➔ “Any chance to dazzle you with my skills. Got a request?”

It’s quiet here. The gentle, nighttime kind of quiet Whumpee used to love. Before his life was turned upside down. Before he was snipped and cut and probed until he was new. Before Whumper.

There are differences. He tries to focus on the differences.

The clothes hanging on his body are cotton — one of Caretaker’s big t-shirts over a pair of worn lounge shorts with looped strings. So unlike the heavy chains and suffocating gags and robes Whumper had him wear. The room is bigger, but more full. Couches and bookshelves and tables with checkered clothed draped over them. Fuzzy rugs and soft-colored paintings. And the air is warm, much warmer and clearer than his cell.

But it’s quiet. A different kind of quiet, pierced by owls purring outside and the whistle of the tea kettle and the humming of the air heater, but still quiet. Similar enough to the silence that dragged over the atmosphere there, burrowing into Whumpee’s brain and spiraling him to what felt like destruction, like his eyes bleeding out and dribbling down his chin, like his fingers ripping and tearing and splitting at his still thin, patchy hair. But now he’s here. That eyes nightmare — it never even happened. And the hair, it’s growing back, it’s even soft now. But the silence… oh, the silence.

“Caretaker?” He calls out, lifting his voice as high as he dares. He’s been feeling better about being verbal lately, even though Whumper’s no-talking rule still sticks like tar.

Caretaker’s voice filters in from the kitchen. “Yeah, hon?”

The soft pattering of liquid being poured fills the thick quiet — the tea must be done. Whumpee curls tighter into the corner of the couch. “You gonna be in there much longer?”

“No, I’m almost done. One teaspoon sugar, no milk?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

They twirl to the couch, skirt flaring and that crooked sunswept smile splashed on their face. They extend a white ceramic mug towards Whumpee, and he takes it in both hands, careful and easy. He’s gotten better at that, too. Being given things.

As he lifts the rim to his lips, Caretaker plops down next to him, sitting cross-legged and sipping their own cup. “How is it? Good?” They probe, tilting their head.

“It’s great. I don’t know how you do it,” Whumpee answers, returning that smile of theirs. It’s true. The sage-tinted, lightly-sugared water runs hot down their throat. It always feels good to drink something warm, but somehow Caretaker’s tea is always the best.

Caretaker chats with Whumpee for a while, even after tea is done. It’s sweet of them to put so much effort into making him comfortable. They’ve always been so cheerful and patient and talkative around him, even though they’re naturally a pretty quiet person. They probably know it makes him feel safer. To be away from the quiet.

It’s probably midnight by the time Caretaker starts yawning. And Whumpee dreads it, the same way he does every night. It helps that Caretaker’s there with him, but it’s when it starts feeling like he’s running. Running fast and far but the silence always catches up and twists its way into his mind again.

Caretaker stands and offers him a hand. Gingerly he takes it, lets himself be pulled to his feet and guided to his bedroom — the guest room, a cozy place with a square TV and a soft bed with star-patterned sheets matching the glow-up lights on the ceiling. The stars, they help too. But they’re quiet too.

“Okay, well, goodnight. I’ll see you in the morning, dear.” Caretaker turns around and steps towards the door, but Whumpee catches them by the wrist.

Caretaker pauses, slowly turning back to look at him. “Whumpee?”

“Hey. Would you mind playing for me for a while?” Whumpee licks his lips, eyes darting to the floor. “It helps me sleep.”

Caretaker grins. “Any chance to dazzle you with my skills. Got a request?”

That’s how they end up sitting at his bedside, playing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star on their cello. The silence melts away like ice on a pond, first night of spring. Music pours out into the air, warm and soft, and fills Whumpee’s head with cotton.

It’s not a real solution. He knows that. And eventually, he’ll need to stop relying on Caretaker so much.

But for now, this is home.

"Hey. Mind playing for me for a while...? It helps me sleep." + Musician!Caretaker

"...Of course."

"It'll take me a second to get the guitar, are you okay if I leave for a second?"

"Yeah. But you'll have to let go of my hand, first."

"Any chance to dazzle you with my skills. Got a request?"

"I haven't sung in a while, but I'll do my best okay?"

[trevorgold52]

It was vacation time. Trevor had never been to England before but hey there’s a first time for everything. He packed his bags hopped on the plane and took off. He arrived in England a few hours later with a list of things to see. Map in one hand a phone in the other he set off the find the cathedral as it was the first thing on his list.

He walked for what felt like hours and was getting more and more lost and confused as the day went on. His normally well kept look was completely ruined he had been running his hands through his hair all day trying to make sense of the map.

As he continued walking slowly losing hope of ever finding the place a fairly attractive 20 something looking guy walked up to him. He looked Trevor up and down clearly noticing that he was lost. “Ey up, mate, ya lookin a bit lost, yeah?” Trevor was warned about talking to strangers in a foreign country. Momma always said never talk to folks ya don’t know but something about the guy just seemed safe.

“Yeah I’m looking for the cathedral but I think I took a wrong turn.” Trevor said the exhaustion clear in his voice. The man smiled making Trevor feel even more comforted “the cathedral ya say?” He had gotten pretty close to Trevor at this point. Trevor could feel the heat coming off of him. They were almost touching at this point. “Well I might know a shortcut, but it’s not the kind you’re thinkin of.” A wave of relief hit Trevor he had been walking all day and would take any help he could get. It didn’t hurt that this guy was pretty hot too.

With curiosity in his voice Trevor asked “what do you mean?” The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold chain. “This ain’t just any necklace, it’s a bit of magic, see?” Trevor stared in curiosity and awe as the man dangled it in front of his face. “Put it on, and you’ll fit right in ‘round here.” Trevor was skeptical but desperate. He was on vacation it couldn’t hurt to try to fit in with locals.

He took the chain feeling the surprising weight of it in his hand “what’s it do?” “It’ll make you one of us” he said with a wink causing Trevor to melt a bit. “A proper chav” Trevor had heard a little about chavs in the past. He wasn’t quite sure what a chav even was but this guy seemed nice enough so he put the chain around his neck and locked it in place.

Immediately he felt an energy flow through him. His eyes flashed a bright light unlike anything he’d ever seen. His skin turned a darker shade of tan and his muscles grew massively. His shirt tightened around his chest almost ripping from the size. His ass stretched his jeans becoming the perfect bubble butt. His cock grew from its pretty good size of six inches to a huge 9 inches.

The transformation finally stopped signaling that he had been changed completely. He was no longer a late twenties southern boy he was now a complete chav. Just like his new friend Scott.

“Bloody ‘ell, that’s fuckin mad” Scott said the excitement in his voice. Trevor adjusted to his new body flexing his muscles and rubbing his new cock through his jeans as Scott looked him up and down. “Let’s go show off ya new look, yeah?”

Scott smiled grabbing Trevor by the hand leading him down a dark alley. Trevor wasn’t sure what was happening but he didn’t care he was a chav now and Scott was his mate so he let him lead. “Where we going?” Trevor asked curiously. “Somewhere private, where we can get to know each other better.” Trevor liked the sound of that. He felt the lust building within him making him hornier than he had ever been. All at once Scott pushed him against a wall tracing his hand from Trevor’s face down his chest teasing his hardening nipples.

Trevor’s heart raced at Scott’s touch feeling him work his hands down his body finally reaching his crotch. Scott squeezed and Trevor felt the immense pleasure building to levels he had never felt before. “You’re so fuckin hot ,Trev,” Scott whispered only making him hornier. “I knew you’d love it here.” Trevor couldn’t lie he loved every second of this.

Trevor felt his eyes widen as Scott unbuttoned his pants pulling out his newly enlarged cock. He hadn’t even realized how much he was leaking precum. Scott smeared some of it on the head of his cock driving him wild. “Ya like that, don’t ya?” Trevor groaned and moaned at the words.

His asshole tightened and clenched. His body felt like he had no control over it. He watched as Scott dropped to his knees taking Trevor’s entire cock into his mouth sending his pleasure meter into overdrive. Involuntarily he bucked his hips pushing his cock deeper into Scott’s mouth.

“Fuck yeah” Scott said his mouth still wrapped around Trevor’s leaking cock. Trevor’s eyes rolled into the back of his head. Suddenly Scott stopped leaving Trevor desperate for more. As Scott stood back up Trevor noticed Scott’s cock was also hard as a rock. “Then let’s go back to mine, where we can really get comfortable.” Trevor nodded desperate for more uncertain as to what would come next. All he knew was that he had a new mate and things were about to get more interesting.

Part two of @goldenherc9 story from Trevor’s perspective.

Wanna join the golden army contact:

@brodygold @polo-drone-001

[turnedpalefromlackofsun]

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

[sskk-manifesto]

(*・ω・*)b♪

[reddevilmcnt]

Maksim could always tell the exact moment when Ross started to crack under his words. It showed in the way Ross’s blood began to race, his heart pounding several increments faster in uneven bursts that Maksim’s attuned ears could detect without very much effort at all. To be fair, a petty, twisted part of him lived for moments like this------- baiting Ross was far too satisfying, especially since the human seemed to take as much delight in provoking him. However, Maksim couldn’t quite understand why this time Ross had let his banter hit so easily. Ross’s particular brand of boring would eventually sync up with someone else's wants and needs, those belonging to the right mate for him. But then again, Maksim couldn’t forget the breakup Ross had mentioned once, something about a guy who got bored and did walk away. Of course, it was probably more complicated than that. Humans, fickle and treacherous as they were, did possess certain habits of picking up and discarding partners on a whim. But, maybe, it also could've been one of those slow, creeping implosions where the cracks of the relationship spread too gradually to notice until it was too late. Making 'boredom' the most simplified excuse to end it when the real reason could've been far more complex. Either way, Maksim didn’t really care. It wasn’t his problem, and he wasn’t cruel enough to use it against Ross. …Well, that wasn’t entirely true------- he was that much of a dick when he wanted to be. But he wasn’t in the mood to dig at sore spots tonight. That wasn’t why he was here. His penchant for malice had its uses, though it was vastly better spent on battles that mattered.

"Calm down and eat a taco," was all Maksim offered in response to Ross’s rising frustration, his tone deliberately casual and infuriatingly dismissive. Without waiting for a reply, he bit into his own taco, taking a massive bite that demolished half of it in one go. His eyes shot wide open as Ross’s abrupt confession registered, the words sinking in mid-chew. A jumbled snicker escaped him then, in an animalistic sound that made him seem every bit the mongrel people accused him of being, but he couldn’t stop himself. Ross was a riot, genuinely ridiculous in a way that tugged a grin from Maksim no matter how hard he tried to hold it back. At least he wasn’t stuck protecting a human with zero personality or humor. So, not so boring after all. Not that Maksim would ever tell him that. "Hmm... are schoolteachers allowed to say the word 'slutty'? What sort of vocabulary is that?" Maksim drawled, expression a chaotic mix of shit-eating grins and doggish amusement. He took a long drink from his vodka glass, downing it in one go before promptly pouring himself another. Alright, this wasn't... so bad. Not first or second date material (because that would never happen) but tolerable. Maksim frowned at the thought, annoyed that Ross could push his mind in that direction for even just a second. Nevertheless, there were far worse humans out there, ones who couldn’t hold his attention for even half a conversation. This was something. Not friendship, God, no, but civil tolerance. A hey, I won’t let you get murdered out there in the streets kind of vibe. About as close to 'friendly' as Maksim ever wishes to be with a non-werewolf. And for now, that was enough.

"Mmm, I'm always naked," he quips, flashing an infuriatingly arrogant, crooked smile. There’s no hint of a joke in his tone------ he’s entirely serious. "...Not at this very moment, obviously. I couldn't show up to my favorite teacher's apartment like that. What would the neighbors say?" Fuck the neighbors, but yeah, nakedness is pretty standard for a wolf, especially post-shapeshift. He's only returning playful fire.

Maksim doesn’t start feeling the cherry vodka until his fourth glass, a subtle euphoria blooming in his chest, nothing dramatic, just something to set him at ease. His body, always running hot, doesn’t change much outwardly, but the tightness in his massive shoulders melts away, leaving him loose and relaxed for once. A rare reprieve from the usual tightly-wound aggression or paranoia. Ross throws out another wildly inappropriate comment, and Maksim nearly loses it, almost tumbling out of his seat from laughing so hard. What the fuck? "I guess," he manages weakly, voice rough and scratchy as he struggles to catch his breath between laughing, gasping, and shoveling shrimp into his mouth. "If that’s what you need." And honestly, it probably is. Ross seems like someone who needs dick more than anyone Maksim’s ever met. Anything to shut him the fuck up and knock him out for a while. After Ross gives his two cents about blind dating, the Alpha hums thoughtfully, then shrugs his strong, wide-set shoulders. "Welp. Maybe I’ll go through with it------ just to see what my people really think of me." His smirk is all good-natured mischief as he grabs another shrimp and drags it through sauce, thoroughly leaning into his caveman table manners. "Maybe I’ll even try your method," he adds with a wolfish grin. "Get slutty drunk and see who takes dick the best." He pauses, mock-serious, then tilts his glass toward Ross. "Wow, I think I learned something today. You really are good at your job." He knows he’s tempting fate; this conversation is practically begging for a glass to get hurled at his head. Worth it, though.

"i'm not a stick in the mud just because i don't want to put on that tacky see-through shirt my friend got me and go get sweaty on a dance floor." ross puffs up immediately, feeling his face flush, some startling combination of anger and embarrassment at being so thoroughly called out. it isn't as if he's desperately trying to impress this guy, of all people, but he doesn't want his legacy in anyone's mind to be that he's a boring loser who likes to sit at home and read or put together a puzzle on the weekends with a cozy cup of tea.

even if that's exactly what he is.

thrill and fun are great things, he enjoys them on occasion, but ross never wanted to be a dangerous guy, never wants to fuck himself over just to chase a few minutes of frivilous fun.

maybe he's boring. maybe he's the kind of nerdy guy that it's fun to hook up with for a while, because he's always thrilled and enthuiastic for his partners, but he's too boring to take out. maybe maksim has him wildly overthinking this.

all of those can be true.

hands curl around the glass that's been poured and left on the table, and he only hesitates for a split second of looking at the clear liquid before he lifts it and downs it like a madman. the burn is immediate and apparent. wild in his chest, blooming and warming his face like he's sitting next to a fire. "if you ask my friends, the answer is slutty." the glass is placed on the counter again, and he offers a little smirk, a hand coming up to lightly pull at his shirt, let a little airflow cool his still warming chest. "i'm a slutty drunk who'd be on his knees the moment someone told him to. so you're right, probably shouldn't overdo it. unless you wanna get naked in my kitchen again?" and he lets his eyebrows dance a little before the smile cracking his stoic expression crack through.

his body rests against the counter and he grabs a nacho to pop into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. he's decided not to comment on the 'nagging little wife' thing, if only because there's some fundamental part of him that knows that maksim is right. even if he doesn't want to admit it to the cocky fuck. instead, he shrugs his shoulders. "maybe. i'll have to start getting slutty drunk and figure out what dick fucks me the best, go from there." his eyes roll, but expression shifts thoughtfully when the man starts speaking again, humming softly, listening. then his head shakes. "nah. i don't really think blind dating works. i mean, it's awkward as hell, you're just showing up to a place, and there's someone waiting for you, and it really gives insight into what the people setting you up think about you, about who you should be with. and i think starting on a back foot like that is just begging to make it impossible for some kind of real connection. and that's what finding love is all about anyway, right? real connection."

[jackass-jones]

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

[silverselfshippingchaos]

goodnight gamers!

[the-chaos-crew]

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

[butchlifeguard]

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

[asahicore]

stupid in love - psh (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact

pairing. best friend!sunghoon x fem!reader

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

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

word count. 22.1k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Am I really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And I’m Park Sunghoon!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

“Because you wouldn’t have told me!”

“Well…”

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

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

“Yeah, worst summer ever.”

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

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

“Because of this exactly.”

“What’s this?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh,” you breathe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I- I mean-”

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

“Yes,” you answer without thinking. 

“Is that why you’re scared?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N and I kissed last night.”

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

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

“Fucking finally!” Jay exclaims.

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

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

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

“I really didn’t think anything would… I just… Started seeing her differently recently, I guess.” Sunghoon shrugs, sheepishly smiling to himself.

“So, what happened? Did you guys just kiss or…?” Jay asks, raising his eyebrows suggestively. Jake giggles at the insinuation of sex but has a curious glint in his eyes when he waits for Sunghoon’s answer.

“Yeah, um, we just kissed cause she- she sort of ran away?” Sunghoon admits, wincing at the recollection.

“You what?!” Chaeyong’s voice rings out in the food court of the mall where you’re currently sitting, halfway through your strawberry milkshake.

“Keep it down, would you?!” you scold her, smiling apologetically to the people staring at you and your friend.

“If it was so good, why the hell did you run away, Y/N?”

“I just- I don’t know… Freaked out, I guess…” you mumble, cowering under the harsh look she gives you.

“Well, have you talked since?” You don’t reply, just guiltily avoid her gaze. “Y/N!”

“I know, I know! I just… don’t know what to do. ‘Hey, nice making out with you last night, bit weird since we’ve been best friends since we were 11, but that’s fine, right?’ Ugh! That’s so stupid,” you complain, flopping back in your chair.

“That’s exactly what you should say. Going MIA on him will just make things weirder. Plus you’ve never gone more than 24 hours without speaking so one of you will eventually cave in. It should be you,” she says, looking at you with a raised eyebrow as she takes a sip from her milkshake. 

You scoff when she gives you a ‘you know I’m right’ look. “I’ll think about it on the way home and text him. There.”

And you do think about it on the way home; but you don’t get the opportunity to send the text, because as soon as you get off the bus at the stop right across from your house, you see Sunghoon sitting on the bench of your porch, looking around nervously and rubbing his hands on his denim shorts. You chuckle to yourself; who knew he got so distressed from not speaking to you for a day?

He stands up when he sees you approaching and raises his hand in a quick wave. “Hi, Hoon,” you greet, and you can feel his whole body relax when you hug him. So, you don’t hate him, he thinks. You sit down on the bench together. “Sorry I didn’t text you. I didn’t know what to say after… last night,” you admit, hugging your knees to your chest as you sit facing him.

“Yeah, I figured,” he chuckles, smiling shyly at you. “I was scared you’d never want to see me again.”

You look at him with wide eyes, mildly offended, and punch his arm. “How could you think that?!”

“Well, you did sort of run away from me last night,” he says, lightly punching your arm in return.

You tut in defeat. “I did, didn’t I?” 

“Yeah. I’m just glad you didn’t walk past me straight into your house just now.”

You chuckle and rest your head on top of your knees. “That would’ve been a bit much, even for me.”

Sunghoon lets out a puff of air through his nose in response, and then the two of you sit in silence. You’re contemplating what to do next when your friend pulls you from your thoughts. “Should we, um…” He shuts his eyes tightly in reflection for a second before opening them again and looking straight at you. “Should we just pretend like last night didn’t happen? Would that make you feel more comfortable?”

His words take you aback and your eyes widen a bit; you hadn’t even thought pretending nothing happened last night was an option, because you didn’t think you’d ever be able to actually get it out of your head. Even now, if you stare at Sunghoon for too long, your gaze will naturally drift downwards or you’ll get a flashback of his large hands around your waist. But apparently, if he can offer to pretend like the previous night wasn’t a thing, then it must not have been such a huge deal to him. You quickly try to hide your disappointment and nod at your friend. “Right. Yeah. Sure.”

Silence makes its way between you two again. It makes the late afternoon breeze a bit chillier and the physical distance between you and Sunghoon feel much bigger than it actually is. Wanting it to go away quickly, you ask, “Do you wanna watch a movie, then?”

Sunghoon’s never looked so relieved about watching a movie, and he immediately accepts your offer. You get some popcorn ready while he searches for a movie to watch. He clicks on a horror movie that looks like it’s got a cliché storyline and awful acting, but you’re happy for any sort of distraction when Sunghoon is sitting so close to you.

You and Sunghoon always sit close-by when you watch something together, knees and shoulders brushing against each other. Tonight isn’t any different, except that your skin burns everywhere it touches his. You can smell the faint scent of chlorine in his hair, and it’s so intoxicating you want to bury your face there and breathe it in.

You’re thirty minutes into the movie and still nothing’s happened when Sunghoon puts his arm around you, letting his hand hang over your shoulder. The sudden warm contact makes you take a sharp intake of breath as memories of the previous night come flooding once again. You don’t know what you were expecting, but Sunghoon simply rests his hand there and doesn’t do anything more for another thirty minutes, except for squeezing your shoulder when there’s a small jumpscare, making you chuckle at him. This isn’t much more than what you’re used to with him, but knowing your friend, he must be thinking the ball is in your court. So you scooch a bit closer into his side and rest your head on his shoulder, the scent of his skin even stronger now that your nose is so close to his neck. You feel his chest raise and relax as he sighs deeply and tightens his hold around your shoulders. His small reactions to you spur you on and you decide to wrap an arm around his waist and you feel him flinch oh-so-slightly at your touch in such a sensitive spot. He starts to rub circles into your shoulder and rests his head on top of yours, and your whole body relaxes into his. This is so much more than what you’re used to with him; and yet, you so readily melt under his touch.

You can barely focus on the movie because of how close Sunghoon is. When a particularly scary ghost jumps on the screen, you flinch and hide your face in his neck, and he giggles at your reaction, hand coming up to stroke your hair comfortingly. It only takes you a few seconds to realize what position you’re in, and you release a shaky breath as you slowly lift your head towards Sunghoon, only to find him already looking at you, seemingly having had that same realization. When his eyes drift down to your lips, you know you’re done for.

You call out his name, and he’s already answered ‘Yes?’ before you’ve had time to finish uttering the second syllable. “I don’t think I want to pretend last night never happened,” you admit, holding his waist a bit tighter.

“Good. Me neither,” he breathes out before leaning down and trapping your lips in his, the kiss releasing all your pent-up frustration of the day. The world seems to melt away with his lips on yours, the movie already long forgotten. Sunghoon pulls you into his lap and you slide your palms up from his waist, against his chest and to his shoulders before wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing your body closer to his. His hands are sitting on your hips, fingers lightly pressing into them and your lower back. Now that you both seem to know what you want, it’s so easy, just falling into this kiss.

His tongue darts out to lick your bottom lip and you gladly open your mouth for him, letting his tongue explore it. You haven’t kissed someone like this in ages, maybe ever, but Sunghoon takes the lead and effortlessly gets you to follow his rhythm. When a flick of his tongue against yours feels particularly nice, you arch your back and press your chest into his, making him smirk into the kiss. This time, when he brings your hips down onto his, letting you feel his erection against your clothed core, the feeling doesn’t make you want to run away; instead, you want to feel it again and again.

You fall into a nice pace of rubbing yourself against him, eliciting hushed moans and loud breaths from the both of you. You can’t concentrate on kissing him and grinding down on him at the same time, so you drop your head down to bury your face in his neck, leaving a few pecks there but mostly moaning against his skin, enjoying how your hot breaths make him shiver.

You can’t keep a whine from escaping your lips when he bucks his hip into yours and his tip brushes directly against your covered clit, instantly bringing a hand up to your mouth. “Fuck, Y/N,” he breathes. “I know we gotta keep quiet ‘cause of your parents but the sounds you’re making are so fucking pretty. I wanna hear them over and over again.” His words make you whimper against his neck and you feel your slick starting to pool in your panties.

“H-hoon. This feels so good,” you moan, breathing warmly against the shell of his ear.

“I know, right? Feels so good,” he chuckles, hands grabbing at your ass to bring you harder down onto him. His actions are about to elicit another moan from you when, all of a sudden, a loud jumpscare in the movie makes you jump away from the boy underneath you and yelp in fear, which in turn makes him scream in surprise. You look at each other, panting and eyes open wide, hands clutching at your hearts, until you burst into laughter. The fun moment is short-lived, however, as your mom rushes down the stairs not ten seconds later, frantically asking if everything is alright. 

You sit up straight at the sight of your mother and clear your throat. You’re thankful for the dark of the room which hides your and Sunghoon’s swollen lips and flushed faces from her view. “Sorry, mom, we were just watching a scary movie. We’re fine.” She sleepily nods and walks back up the stairs, and when she’s back in her room, Sunghoon and you exchange a look and erupt into another fit of smaller, quieter giggles. 

That night, after Sunghoon’s gone home, the both of you get yourselves off in your own beds, the strong memory of each other’s lips and hands bringing you both to your releases. Without even realizing it, you moan out Sunghoon’s name as your orgasm hits. The window from your room doesn’t face his; but still, your heart is beating so loudly that you’re afraid the sound might carry from your open window to his. You get up and close it.

--

Now that you and Sunghoon both know you want to kiss each other, you do it everywhere: in his pool, his back pressed against the wall; on the sunchairs when you were supposed to be drying off; on your beds in the middle of the night, none of your parents or siblings suspicious of anything; in front of your house, because even though he was supposed to just walk you home, he couldn’t keep himself from tasting you one last time; in the backseat of his car after an evening with your friends and he drove you two home.

You spend a good two weeks of just kissing before your body starts to crave something more. At some point, Sunghoon’s hands resting nicely on your waist or sometimes, if he’s feeling bold, grabbing at your ass, start to not be enough anymore. You knew you wouldn’t be satisfied with just kisses and sweet touches when one day, his hands slowly but surely slid up your naked belly before grabbing onto your bikini-clad breast, lighting your whole body up on fire. He’d slipped his hand underneath your swimming top and rolled your nipple between two fingers and you had felt his dick twitch under your core when you let out a loud moan at the new yet so pleasurable feeling.

You know what it is that you want, but it makes you feel dirty. Your fingers have made you finish a hundred times before, but wanting Sunghoon to make you feel that way is a whole other story. Is that even what he wants? Would he be weirded out if you asked him about it? Is there even the sliver of a chance that maybe, just maybe, he has those same thoughts about you, and wants you to make him feel good as much as he wants to make you feel good?

If his grunts and the way he ruts into you when your make-out sessions get particularly steamy are any indication, then the answer to those questions would respectively be yes, no, and yes. 

You’re lying on a sunbed one afternoon, letting the sun dry off your wet skin from the pool, when you finally muster the courage to tell Sunghoon about your wishes. After all, he is your best friend, and you know you can talk to him about anything. Even when that ‘anything’ involves his fingers inside of you and his dick in your mouth.

“Sunghoon?” you call out, turning your head to look at your best friend. He’s bathing in the sunlight without a care in the world. His skin has tanned a bit since summer started three weeks ago and his muscles are even more defined after all that swimming and working out he’s been doing. You want to reach out a hand, to feel the taut skin of his abs and chest under your palms, and to maybe then slide your hand down until you feel his hard-on underneath his swimming trunks. Your chairs aren’t far apart and you could do it from where you are, but you’d rather ask him first.

“Yeah?” he answers without turning towards you.

You take a deep breath in before you start talking again. “You know how you said it could be good for us to get… experience before going to college… And how we’ve been kissing these past couple weeks…”

“Yeah, I know,” he chuckles.

“Well… people do more than just kissing, right?” you ask, voice slightly shaky. This seems to pique his interest as he turns to look at you.

“Yeah?” 

You hope you’re not just imagining the enthusiastic tone in his voice. “I think… I think we should try that too, don’t you think?” you ask, eyes not leaving his as he sits up on his chair and turns his knees towards you, fully facing you now.

“Yeah, I agree. I completely agree.” He stares at you for a few moments as if in disbelief. “Do you want to- Should we- Let’s go up to my room, yeah?” he offers, standing up and reaching his hand out to you. You gladly take it.

You and Sunghoon are a giggling mess as you practically run up the stairs, unable to get to his room quick enough. As soon as the door is closed behind you, you wrap your arms around each other, your lips finding his immediately as he walks you back to his bed. When you feel the back of your knees hit it, you detach yourself from him and lay on it, elbows holding you up as you look up at him expectantly.

“Fuck,” he whispers, leaning in to hover over you. He traps your lips in a short but sweet kiss before pulling back and murmuring against your lips, “Have I ever told you how pretty you are, Y/N?”

You beam at his words but decide to tease anyway. “You always go on and on about how pretty you are, but never about me.”

He giggles and pecks your lips again. “Well, I’m telling you now. You’re gorgeous.” You kiss him to hide your flustered face, pulling him so close to you he’s practically laying on top of you. Your hands are a bit more curious than usual, your kisses hungrier, the both of you anticipating what’s to come. 

You grind against each other, the feeling of his erection against your barely covered core enough to send your mind into a frenzy. You forget everything around you when you feel Sunghoon pull back in the slightest, far enough so that he can look at your face and gauge your reactions but not too much that you still feel his hot breath on your lips. One of his hands is holding the back of your head as the other travels downwards, stopping for a second on your breast to massage it lightly before continuing its journey. It ever-so-slightly brushes against your core, making you buck your hips up into his touch, but his hand is already gone leaving you whining and pouting and him chuckling at your cute reaction. “You want it that bad, huh?” he teases.

You scoff, not wanting to let your friend know the effect he has on you. You press your palm against his clothed erection and he hisses at the unexpected contact. “So do you, Hoon.”

When he presses his lips to yours again, you both smile into the kiss. You cup his jaw and tangle your fingers through his hair, and his hand slips from under your head and joins his other hand on your thigh, grabbing at both of them, fingers slightly digging in your skin. He’s so, so close to where you want him most, and he seems to have noticed your growing impatience by the way you squirm underneath him. Seeing you so needy for him only makes him needier for you; he has more experience than you, so you probably expect him to take the lead, but the truth is, he has no idea what the fuck he’s doing.

“Y/N?” he murmurs, face buried in your neck as he leaves a trail of wet kisses there.

“Yeah?”

“What do you want me to do?”

The question takes you a bit by surprise. You pull away to look at your friend. His eyes are completely glossed-over, and yours are probably the same. “Oh. I don’t know. I just… want you to touch me, I guess,” you say, voice a bit quiet.

“I don’t know how to do that,” he admits sheepishly. He kisses your neck and cheeks before pecking your lips. “Could you- could you show me? How you do it? And I can show you how I do it?”

You take a second to take his words in. Was he suggesting that you touch yourself in front of him, and that he do the same?

This was like a dream come true.

“Yeah, sure.”

Sunghoon giggles in response, and you can’t help but crack a smile too, even though the idea of getting yourself off in front of your friend, no matter how appealing, is still a bit nerve-wracking. “You first,” he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and you roll your eyes at him.

You sit back against the headboard of the bed and slip a hand underneath your swim bottom, the other hand coming up to cover your eyes in an attempt to escape Sunghoon’s heavy, lustful gaze. “None of that. I wanna see you,” he says, pulling your hand away from your eyes and resting it on a pillow next to you. “And if you keep these on, I won’t be able to see anything,” he says, looking down at your bikini top.

Before you can protest, he comes to sit on his knees in front of you, kissing your neck and letting his hands roam your back. “I wanna see all of you.” It’s so easy, untying your string bikini, he almost thinks you wore it on purpose for him to take it off. You avoid his gaze as he takes your top off of you, leaving you half-naked in front of him. “So pretty,” he whispers, and you can’t help but look at him, slick pooling between your legs from the fascination he’s looking at your breasts with. He trails kisses down your neck until he reaches them, taking a nipple in his mouth and swirling his tongue around it, then looks up to see your reaction. You never knew your nipples were this sensitive, and you can’t help but arch your back at his touch and moan loudly, hand flying up to tug at his soft hair. He releases your nipple with a pop and moves sideways to pay the same attention to the other one, but Sunghoon is impatient and doesn’t waste too much time on it; he knows he can come back to your boobs later anyway. Right now, you’ve got a hand between your legs, and that’s what he’s dying to see.

“Can I take this off, too?” he asks, looking up at you as his fingers hook on the sides of your swimming bottoms, waiting for you to nod. His eyes don’t leave your glistening core as he pulls the thin fabric down your legs, discarding it somewhere on the floor of his room. He lays on his belly and kisses the inside of your knee as he holds your thighs in his large hands, still transfixed by your pussy when he says, “Show me how you do it, please.”

You both take a sharp breath in when you start moving two fingers in gentle circles over your clit, already wet from making out with Sunghoon. Your fingers are nimble and know exactly what to do after years of doing this, but the pulse in your core is even stronger now that your best friend is watching your movements this intently. He looks like he’s scared to blink in case he might miss something. You can’t take your eyes off of his face; you’ve never seen him so fascinated by something, so eager to learn. It makes you want to put on a show for him.

A surge of confidence hits you out of nowhere as you slide your digits down your folds, gathering some slick before sliding them back up to your clit and rubbing it a bit faster, a bit harder, your moans growing louder and higher in pitch. With your free hand, you tug at the base of Sunghoon’s hair and make him look up at you. You release his hair and bring your pointer finger up to your mouth, sucking on it and swirling your tongue around it, and Sunghoon’s mind is taken back to that day a couple weeks ago when you had sucked on those lollipops. Oh, how things have changed since then. Not that he’s complaining. “Fuck, that’s hot,” he breathes out, eyes zeroed in on your lips and mouth slightly agape.

You smirk at his reaction, stomach on fire with the feeling of having this kind of power on him. When you’ve wet your finger enough, you bring it down to your slit, circling around your hole before entering it, releasing a loud moan for good measure. Sunghoon is mesmerized by the quickening with which your finger slips in and out of you, the fingers on your clit never relenting. He doesn’t even realize he’s released one of your thighs to palm himself over his shorts until you notice it yourself and tut in disapproval.

“Come and help me, Hoon,” you say, and the boy snaps out of his daze at the sound of his nickname. He nods slowly, changing his position so that he’s laying between your legs, head dangerously close to your core. You slip your other finger out of your hole and he takes that as a sign to replace it with his own. One hand still gripping your thigh, he imitates your previous actions as he gets his pointer finger wet with his saliva before pressing it between your folds, right underneath your clit where your fingers are still rubbing circles, sliding it down towards your slit, and finally pushing it in. 

“So warm… So wet, too,” he whispers in wonder, making you cover your eyes with your forearm out of shyness.

“Oh my God,” you moan, arching your back and letting your head drop to the side on the pillow. Sunghoon’s finger is much thicker and longer than your own, and it stretches you out and hits a deep spot inside you you never could, no matter how much you tried.

“Like this?” he asks, eyes curious as they bounce back and forth between your face and your entrance sucking his finger in.

“Yes, yes, just like that, you can also- oh- you can also curve it upwards a bit- fuck, yeah, just like that, Hoon, you’re doing so well,” you say, the praises just flying out of your mouth. 

This seems to instill some confidence in him, as he cocks an eyebrow at you and speeds up his actions. “Yeah? My finger making you feel good, Y/N?”

“Oh, shut up,” you bite back, but immediately let out a long whine when he easily inserts a second finger in your soaking pussy. He curves them inside you just like you told him to, and the feeling of his fingers filling you up and your own quick ones on your clit are creating a familiar knot in your stomach that is so close to breaking. That is, until Sunghoon pulls your wrist away from your clit.

“Y/N… Can I?” he asks, and you’re not sure what he’s planning, but nod anyway. He wastes no time before pressing his tongue flat down on the sensitive bud, and you actually feel like your soul might leave your body. Fingers knuckle-deep inside you, he licks and sucks at your clit, and the warmth of his tongue against your folds is what makes you tumble over the edge, tightly gripping his hair and bucking your hips into his mouth.

“Oh my God… Oh my God, Hoon, please, don’t stop, please,” you beg, voice getting higher and whinier as you cum all over his tongue. He continues eating you out until it gets too much and you have to tell him to stop. He hikes his body up yours, pecking you sweetly on the lips when he reaches them.

“Your turn,” you announce and hook your legs over his hips to straddle him. You’re about to lean in for a kiss when you notice how lovingly he’s looking at you: his eyes are soft and a small smile is playing on his lips. It takes you aback, but you’d be lying if you said butterflies didn’t spread in your stomach. “W-why are you looking at me like that?”

His grin gets a bit wider. “Did I make you feel good?”

“Y-yeah…,” you admit, averting your gaze from him.

“I’m glad. You taste good, by the way. Sweet.” You want to kiss the devilish smirk off of his face.

You scoff at your friend, glaring a bit. “Whatever. Sit up,” you order, but it just makes him smirk more.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You look up at him to check for confirmation, and when he nods, you hook your fingers under his swimming trunks, taking them off of him along with his boxers underneath. His already fully-hard cock springs free and slaps against his stomach, and you curse yourself for your reaction that will surely just inflate his ego, as if it wasn’t already massive. Your mouth hangs open, eyes zeroing in on his length, flushed red from lack of attention and what you can only guess is precum leaking at the tip. It's straight from a porno.

“Like what you see?” Sunghoon teases, making you look up at him, and you can only stupidly nod. You take the position he was in earlier, laying your head on his thigh and caressing the other, letting it ride up to rub his inner thigh and the tiniest bit over his cock, making his smirk vanish as he takes a shaky breath in.

“Show me how you do it,” you say, echoing his words from earlier. He gulps, finally realizing that he was going to have to masturbate in front of your curious eyes just as you had. He spits on his open palm and spreads the precum over his length with his thumb, lubing himself up before gripping the base and starting to move his hand up and down. You watch as his head falls back against the pillow when his palm grazes over his tip and his movements pick up some speed.

You rub his palms over his thighs, itching to get closer to his cock and make him feel as good as he had done to you earlier. Tentatively, you reach out to grab his balls in your hands, massaging them softly, feeling satisfied when a loud moan leaves his throat. “Oh, f-fuck, that feels good, Y/N,” he breathes out, voice much higher than you’re used to. If he thought that felt good, then nothing could’ve prepared him for the feeling of your soft and warm tongue kitty-licking his balls, then taking turns sucking each one into your mouth and releasing them with a pop. “Where the fuck did you learn how to do that?” he asks, involuntarily bucking his hips into your face.

You can’t help but giggle, and Sunghoon thinks he might come from the sweet sound contrasted with your lewd actions alone. “I read a lot of fanfiction,” you explain, and he doesn’t question it. If Wattpad taught you how to suck dick, then so be it.

You wrap your hand around his and tell him to keep going so you can get an idea of what pace and movements he likes, and you graze your fingernails over his abs and chest with your other hand, chuckling at how sensitive he is when you lightly pinch his nipples. Sunghoon takes his hand off of himself, laying both of his hands palms up next to him on the bed, so you decide to literally take things into your own hands. Trying to recreate what he did before, you spit into your palm and wrap your fingers around his tip, bringing your hand down in a swirly motion to the base of his shaft. You do that a few times, asking, “Like that?” to get confirmation from Sunghoon.

“Just like that, baby,” he says, not even taking notice of the pet name; but you do, and your face immediately flushes, surprised at how much you like it.

“Baby?” you repeat, but he’s too lost in his pleasure and just hums in response. His reaction eggs you on, and you lick a long stripe from his base to his tip, swirling your tongue around it and humming at the bitter but not unpleasant taste of precum there. When another moan escapes his throat, you take his tip in your mouth, at first just shallowly thrusting your head, but then trying to take more and more of him. 

You’re so focused on what you’re doing that you don’t even realize how quickly he’s panting and how his grunts start to get whinier until he’s moaning out your name. “A-ah, Y/N, feels so good, ‘m gonna cum, fuck-”

He goes silent as he shoots his release down your throat, eyebrows deeply furrowed and mouth open wide in pleasure. There’s so much of it and you can’t swallow it all, so you pull your head back, catching your breath, and a hot string of cum hits your chin and your throat. Sunghoon takes a look at you and the sight of you with some of his cum makes his dick twitch before he plops back down on the bed. You giggle as you take tissues from the bedside table (cause of course he’s got tissues next to his bed) and wipe away his seed, then lie down next to him, brushing away the hair that’s sticking to his forehead with sweat and peppering his face with soft kisses.

He opens his eyes and smiles, turning his head to look at you before engulfing you in a bear hug, sweaty bodies sticking together but neither of you minding it. “That was so good, Y/N. What the fuck,” he sighs, pecking your forehead.

You hum, nuzzling your nose into his neck. “I know, right? Who knew you could use your mouth for other things than saying stupid shit,” you tease.

He pulls back and gives you a look that tries to be stern, but you know he’s joking. “Do I need to remind you again, young lady?”

You giggle and peck his lips, forcing him out of character as his dimples appear on his cheeks. “Later, definitely.”

And after that day, he makes sure to remind you time and time again of how good his mouth feels on you. You should’ve seen it coming with how amazing of a kisser he was; but truly, there was nothing like cumming on your friend’s tongue.

--

You’re relieved to find that not much has changed, after all; you and Sunghoon still play around in the pool, watch stupid movies and hang out with your friends like always. Sure, there are stray hands here and there, or looks that last a little too long and mean a little too much, but if anything, it just makes your friendship more playful and exciting. 

You’re both open with what you like and don’t like, so it doesn’t take either of you to figure out exactly how to make the other come undone embarrassingly quickly. (The shortest amount of time it took him was 2:38 seconds - yes, he timed it - and he hasn’t let you live it down since.) You like it when he presses his large hand down onto your lower tummy while he eats you out, or when he sits you between his legs and whispers all sorts of things as his fingers work their magic inside you and on your clit. He likes it when you get down on your knees in front of him and look up at him as you suck him dry, or when you sit in his lap and kiss his neck and play with his hair while he plays video games. And don’t even get him started on when you palmed him over his sweatpants while you watched a movie with Chaeyong, Jay and Jake, making sure that the movements under the blanket went unnoticed by them. He wanted to punish you after they left, he really did, but you took him in your mouth right there in the living room and gave him an orgasm that had his thighs shaking for five minutes afterwards. You were pretty proud of yourself for that one. 

You also find out that he hates it when you tease and edge him, which only makes you do it more; the only problem is that, if you do that, he’ll make you ride his thigh and won’t help you at all. His proud smirk and snide praises combined with the feeling of his thick thigh underneath your core were more than enough to get you to your end, though.

And truly, nothing has changed, especially not Sunghoon’s special talent in pushing boys away from you.

“What do you mean, Lee Heeseung is coming back?” he heatedly asks, slamming his glass of lemonade down on the outdoor table so hard you’re scared it might break.

“It’s the summer, of course he’s coming back. He just stayed behind for a bit to enjoy a few weeks of the city without college, and now he’s coming back here,” Jake explains, shrugging.

“Do you know when he’ll be here?” you ask, far too much excitement in your voice to Sunghoon’s taste.

“Just in a couple days.”

Sunghoon has smoke coming out of his ears when he sees how much you perk up at the news of your old crush being back in town for summer. He likes the boy, but he hates that you like him. And since Heeseung is friends with Jay, Jake, and by association Sunghoon, begrudgingly so, he’ll definitely see lots of him in the upcoming months. And if Sunghoon sees Heeseung, then you’ll see Heeseung, too. And that, Sunghoon doesn’t like.

You notice something is off with him that afternoon because of how uncharacteristically quiet he is. Sunghoon, ever the loud introvert, is always arguing for no reason and laughing louder than everybody around him. So when he merely chuckles at his friends’ numerous displays of stupidity in the pool and doesn’t even say anything in protest to you getting on Jake’s shoulders to play against Chaeyoung and Jay, you know something is definitely up. You also have a good idea of what that something might be, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find it endearing.

You stay behind when your friends leave in the early evening. Without a word, you and Sunghoon pack away the inflatable toys in the pool cabin and clean up the table, putting the dirty glasses in the sink. You do the dishes while he prepares sandwiches for the two of you, which he insisted on doing after he heard your stomach grumbling. You watch the latest Kurtis Conner video as you eat and can’t help but notice that he doesn’t even chuckle at any of the jokes or skits when he’d usually be clutching his stomach in laughter. 

When you’re done eating, you take a resolute breath and pause the video, but Sunghoon doesn’t even notice, only snapping out of his daze when you call out his name.

“Huh?” When his eyes find you, he almost looks surprised to see you, as if he’d forgotten you were there.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” you ask, slightly frowning. “You look so out of it today.”

“Huh? I’m fine, nothing’s wrong,” he says dismissively and presses play, but you quickly pause the video again.

“I’m your best friend, Sunghoon, I know when something’s the matter and I know when you’re lying. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but don’t pretend everything’s fine when we both know that’s not true.”

He peers at you for a moment, cursing you for knowing him so well. He crosses his arm and averts his gaze, pouting like an angry child. “I hate it when you’re right.”

You giggle and make your way around the counter to him, standing inbetween his legs and wrapping your arms around his neck to make him look up at you. His hands come naturally up to your waist. “I just…” he starts, then immediately stops himself with a sigh., “You’ve always had a crush on Heeseung. But these are our last couple months together, and I don’t want somebody else taking up your attention…”

He buries his face between your breasts to hide his blush, and you can’t help but giggle again. “Stop laughing at me!” he protests, but the muffled sound of his voice just makes you laugh more. You stroke his hair and press a gentle kiss at the top of his head.

“Sure, I’m happy Heeseung’s coming back. But there’s no one I’d rather spend my summer with than you, Sunghoon, you should know that.” He leans back to look up at you with puppy eyes and a small pout. You cup his face, admiring how cute he looks like this, and smile softly down at him.

“Really?”

“Really,” you answer, and he leans in for a kiss.

It’s a soft one. It’s a patient kiss, neither of you urging to get somewhere else, to do something more. It reminds you of that kiss in his room a few weeks ago, when you were still curious and discovering each other. From then on, your kisses had become more feverish, more eager, more playful. But now, you’re taking your time. For now at least, neither of you is going anywhere. So your lips melt together slowly, and when you take breaks to breathe, you look each other in the eyes and smile before leaning back in.

It’s when you sigh against his lips, eyes still closed as you pull away, that it hits him. I could do this forever, he thinks.

I could sit here with my arms around her waist and her lips against mine and the smell of chlorine and the sound of her laugh forever and I’d never get tired of it, he thinks, but immediately afterwards, he realizes he won’t get to do this forever. Summer will end, you’ll both head off to college, and you’ll only get to see each other every few months until another summer comes. And who knows what might happen until then?

You might meet someone and realize Sunghoon isn’t all that; hell, he might meet someone, but he highly doubts anyone could even come close to the way you make him feel.

“Hello? Earth to Sunghoon?” you quietly joke, looking down at him with an affectionate look in your eyes. You press the pads of your fingers to his two moles before replacing your fingers with your lips, giving each one a quick peck. “You were up on the moon for a minute there.”

Sunghoon hums softly, smiling as he lets himself melt under your touch. “Sorry. It’s just really hot, isn’t it?” he says, a stupid excuse he uses as a blanket to cover his feelings. There is some sweat beading at his hairline, which helps make his lie more believable, but you don’t need to know it’s not just because of the summer heat.

Slowly, your smile turns mischievous, and Sunghoon can tell you have an idea in mind. “It is pretty hot… Wait here.”

He watches as you fill a tall glass with ice from the dispenser in the fridge and pop an ice cube in your mouth, a devilish smile on your face, and laughs when that smile is replaced with a frown as the coldness hits you and you spit it back into the glass, laughing along with him. “What the hell are you doing?” he asks between giggles.

“I got the idea a few days ago when we were having popsicles…,” you say looking down at the glass between your hands, slightly embarrassed. “You kissed me and your mouth was really cold but it felt nice.” Sunghoon hums, egging you to go on. You lift the glass up to his cheeks, applying just a bit of pressure to the soft skin. “I thought this could be refreshing.” 

You take the ice cube back in your mouth, sucking on it but not letting it melt completely before pressing your lips against Sunghoon’s and opening your mouth just a bit so he could feel the cold of the ice cube. You feel his smile into the kiss as the ice cube swirls between your tongues, sending shivers down your spine. 

“Very refreshing indeed,” he murmurs when the ice has completely melted. He gets up and takes the glass in one of his hands, leaning down to your level and says “C’mon” with the same mischievous smile as you on his face.

You two hurry up the stairs, and when you get to his room, he hands you the glass before throwing himself on his back, laying on his back with his hands behind his head. “Show me what you had in mind.”

You straddle his hips and take an ice cube from the glass, rubbing it over his lips before pushing it inside his mouth, the cold making him hiss. You quickly counteract that by pressing your lips to his, the contrast of your warm tongue and the freezing ice turning him on more than he would’ve thought.

When the ice has melted, you take another piece and brush it along his jaw, down his Adam’s apple and around his nipples. The cold temperature makes him squirm but he doesn’t shy away from it, even closing his eyes to focus solely on the feeling. While you play with the ice cube, you also leave warm kisses all over his skin, reveling in its slightly salty taste from the thin layer of sweat. You let the ice cube melt between his abs and watch him wriggle as he sucks in a sharp breath, then grab another one, starting off where the previous one stopped. You circle his navel while your fingers play with the hem of his swimming trunks. He pulls them down himself and you chuckle at his eagerness. “I should’ve known you liked the cold, with all those years of ice skating you did,” you tease.  

He’s almost fully hard, and it only takes a few kisses and trailing the ice cube down his inner thighs to have his dick fully erect. He’d only been letting out small sighs and hisses until now, but when you grab another ice cube and circle it around his sensitive tip, he throws his head back into the pillows and moans loudly. You push your luck and drag the ice cube down his shaft, his thighs snapping together when it reaches his balls. You put it in your mouth and let it melt so that your tongue is still cold when you swirl it around his tip, already tasting precum there. But before you can take him further in your mouth, he calls out your name.

“Wait. I don’t wanna cum just yet. My turn.”

He shakes his shoulders in excitement as you switch positions, you taking your t-shirt and bikini top off and laying on your back and him sitting down with one knee on each side of your thighs, an ice cube in his hand and a giddy smile on his face.

He brushes it over your lips before pushing it just a bit into your mouth, holding onto it with two fingers while you suck on it, gazes locked in each other. Just as you did earlier, he trails it down your throat and your chest until they reach your nipples, marveling at the thin wet trail it leaves in its wake. He licks this trail as he circles one of your nipples with the ice cube, and you don’t know if you should focus on his warm tongue or on the cold ice cube. Once it’s melted, he takes another one and circles your other nipple with it, his mouth coming to wrap around the now cold one. Your hands fly up to grab at his hair, your back arching into his touch as you moan and pant loudly.

He sucks and licks at your nipples until you’re calling out his name, begging for more. As nice as his mouth or an ice cube around your nipples feel, your pussy is throbbing and desperate for attention. “Sunghoon… Please,” you whine.

“Please what?” he teases, looking up from your breasts with a smirk.

You whine again, knowing he knows full well what you want. “Please…”

He trails the ice cube down your stomach, circling your navel a few times where it melts before slipping two cold fingers underneath your bikini bottoms. “Is this what you want, baby?,” he asks as he rubs his fingers between his folds, and you whine at the feeling of having him so close to your hole and to your clit but not quite there either. He smirks when you nod frantically but whine at the loss of his fingers against you as he takes your bottoms off and reaches for another ice cube.

You release a loud moan and arch your back off the bed when the ice cube touches your clit. “Fuck, Hoon!”

He rubs the ice cube up and down your folds, your heat melting it much faster than your skin. He takes another one and brings it to your entrance this time, circling around it before pushing the ice cube in and staring with wonder as it melts quickly. He holds your hips down so you stop bucking them up, whimpering at the amazing feeling of the ice against you. He replaces the ice cube with his fingers inside of you and his tongue on your clit, sucking expertly at the sensitive bud and lapping at your juices. And while it feels good - God, does it feel good - and you let Sunghoon know just how nice it feels with your moans, whispers of his names and the way you hold onto his hair, you’re craving something more.

It’s something you’ve been wanting for the past few days, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. No matter how nice Sunghoon’s fingers and mouth felt, they didn’t make you feel close to him enough. You wanted to be so close to him you didn’t know where you ended and where he started; you wanted to feel him. 

You pull him up by the face, asking him to come here and getting lost in his lips as soon as they reach your level. God, Sunghoon’s kisses. You could drown in them. But still, that craving, that need for more. And now that his body is pressed up against yours and you can feel his erection against your thigh, so close to your core, you think you know what it is that you want. “Hmm, please…”

“You keep asking me for something, but you don’t tell me what it is.”

“You. I want you, Hoon, please,” you beg, murmuring against his lips as you wrap your legs around his hips and bring him even closer, his cock now pressing against your cunt.

“M-me?,” he asks, leaning back just a bit, but you pull him back in right away, resting his forehead against yours.

“Yes, please. I need to feel you inside me.”

Your words are enough to get a moan out of Sunghoon. “Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he pants, planting kisses all over your face and neck. Usually, you’d giggle at the ticklish sensation, but right now, you’re so drunk on pleasure, it just makes your breath even shallower and your core wetter.

“How long?”

“God. Since the second time we kissed probably,” he replies, reaching for a condom in the drawer of his bedside table. You think back to that moment six weeks ago (how has it been six weeks already?, you think), after you and Sunghoon had made up and made out on his couch in front of a horror movie. He’d wanted you for that long? And he’d waited for you to say something since then?

“Today’s your lucky day, then,” you tease in an attempt to alleviate the need for him that takes over your bones, but his gaze when he looks back at you ruins any effort. If anything, it just makes you need him even more. You feel like you might explode if you don’t have him right now.

You watch as he clumsily wraps the condom around his member, clearly never having done this before, but you wouldn’t be of any help, so you let him figure it out on his own. You let your head fall back as he rubs his tip up and down your folds, gathering your slick on his dick before aligning himself at your entrance and giving you a long, deep kiss.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks, forehead on yours.

“Yeah. Are you?”

“Yeah, I am. But I’m also scared.”

“Scared of what, Hoon?” you ask, opening your eyes to look at him. You caress his cheek and cup his face in your hands, watching softly as he lets his head rest on your palm.

“I’m scared of hurting you. I heard it hurts the first time. And I’m scared…” he closes his eyes and frowns a bit. “I’m scared it’ll feel too good. That I’ll always want it. You.”

You take a small moment to think, your thumb brushing over his cheek in what you hope is a comforting manner. “You won’t hurt me, Hoon. It only hurts if you’re not ready… And I’m plenty ready. I know you’ll take it slow.” You smile softly when he nods, turning his head to kiss your palm. But if sex is as good as you’ve heard it is, you’re also scared that it might be the best thing you’ve ever experienced and that you’ll never get enough. You and Sunghoon have been meeting up almost everyday this summer and it has more often than not ended up with one of you between the other’s legs; you could never get bored of the things he made you feel or of knowing you were making him feel those exact same things. If you couldn’t live without his fingers, how could you live without his dick?

How could you live without him?

You tried to snap out of those thoughts, reassuring yourself that even before all of this you couldn’t imagine yourself living without Sunghoon, and that there was no reason this should change anything. “And don’t be scared of that, silly,” you say, making him smile. “I’ll always be here, Sunghoon. I’ll always want you, too.” 

“Fuck, okay,” he whispers, kissing your lips once before pulling himself up on his palms, hovering over you. “Tell me if you need me to stop, yeah?” he asks and waits for you to nod before finally pushing in.

You instantly moan when you feel his tip inside you, and Sunghoon stops, frantically asking if you’re okay. It takes some convincing to get him to push himself further in. “It feels so good, Hoon. Please keep going.”

You tell him to not stop until he’s fully inside you, and he obeys, even though he wants to stop when he sees your frown and your sharp intakes of breath. When he’s buried to a hilt, he can’t help but collapse on top of you, burying his face in your neck and wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. “Y/N,” he drawls out. “Feels so fucking good. So tight,” he murmurs against your neck.

“Mmh. Give me a minute, baby.” Your hands caress up and down the expanse of his back and you feel him relax on top of you. As you adjust around his length, the stretch starts to feel more and more pleasurable, until pleasure is the only thing you feel. “Hoon?”

“Yeah?” he says, kissing and nibbling softly at your neck and earlobe.

“You can move, now.”

Sunghoon doesn’t need to be told twice and ever-so-slowly slides out of you, leaving only the tip in before he slides back in. His thrusts are slow but deep, and it’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more. He’s barely started but you’re both already whimpering messes, holding onto each other tightly as pleasure like neither of you has felt before takes over your entire bodies.

As you both get more comfortable, his pace picks up just a tiny bit and you tentatively raise your legs higher so that they’re hooked around the back of his knees instead of laying on the bed. The new angle only adds to the intense pleasure, but you don’t even realize you’re crying until Sunghoon stops mid-thrust, wiping your tears with his thumb and worryingly asking if you’re okay and if it hurts and if he should stop. You open your eyes and smile, instantly calming his nerves. You bring his head closer to yours and kiss him like you’d stop breathing if you didn’t. “It feels so fucking good, Hoon. So, so good.”

He sighs out of relief and resumes his actions, heart swelling with pride that he’s making you feel so good, you’re crying. He’s always hated seeing you cry or hurt in general; but knowing what kind of tears these are, he thinks you look so pretty with tears streaming down your face. His hands grip your thighs a bit tighter as he quickens his pace, already addicted to the feeling of your warm walls taking him in so well.

He slips out a few times but you’re always quick to guide him back inside you. He lifts his body up a bit to get a deeper angle, hoping it’ll get him to stop slipping out, and he’s blown away by the sight underneath him. He thinks you’ve never looked so gorgeous as you do now, legs spread wide for him, cheeks flushed, brows furrowed and mouth agape for him. He kisses your tears, the salty taste bringing a smile to his lips. “So perfect,” he whispers against your mouth. “You look so beautiful.”

Sunghoon takes your legs and wraps them higher around his hips, the new angle hitting a spot inside you that’s making you see stars and has you moaning his name like it’s the only thing you know how to say. You feel that familiar tension build up inside your stomach much faster and much stronger than it usually does.

“Fuck, Sunghoon, I’m gonna cum,” you warn, and a harsher thrust inside you is what pushes you over the edge, the sensation crashing into you and making your thighs shake. An orgasm has never hit you this hard before.

You’re clenching around him like crazy and Sunghoon gasps as you milk him dry, his own orgasm hitting him all at once. He shoots his release inside the condom and stills inside you, breath completely taken away by the sudden, overwhelming sensation.

He lays on top of you for a moment as you both catch your breaths, trying to make sense of how something can feel this good without killing you instantly. He apologizes when his pulling out makes you wince and kisses the top of your head. He rolls onto his back, pulling you with him so that you’re now almost lying on top of him, head against his chest as his arms wrap themselves around you. You leave kisses all over his chest and neck and his hands caress your back.

“That was amazing.”

“I know, right?” he responds immediately, his enthusiasm making you laugh.

“Thanks, Hoon,” you say timidly, voice muffled against his skin.

“For what?”

“For making me feel this good.”

He chuckles. “No need to thank me, pretty. If anything, I should thank you for letting me make you feel good, and on top of that making me feel good.”

You hum at his words and you both stay there for a bit longer, enjoying each other’s warmth. Something blooms inside your chest, and you don’t know whether to let it grow or to squash it down. It feels nice, almost too nice, and you’re scared it might get ripped away from you and it won’t feel so nice then.

Friendship, sex, love. In those weeks spent with Sunghoon, those previously clear lines have blurred to a point they were all one big messy ball of feelings and not three distinct things you could tell apart. Has sex turned your friendship with Sunghoon into something romantic? Or is that just an illusion, and being so intimate with your best friend has messed up your once platonic vision of him? But was your vision of him ever platonic?

Haven't the two of you always been teased about liking each other for a reason? After all, you and Sunghoon didn't grow up together, and he’s never felt like a brother to you. He has always been your male friend; you’ve always been aware that he was your friend who was also a boy. When you'd moved in the house next to his, you hadn’t instantly clicked; it took a while for the ice skating prodigy to warm up to you, but his parents had warmly welcomed yours into the neighborhood and quickly became friends, so it was only a matter of time before he’d open up to the idea of you being around. Constantly.

You’d walk to and from school together, do homework together, go on family trips together, cheer each other on at your respective competitions. After his ice skating lessons, when his coach let him have the whole place to himself for a bit more practice, he’d tie your ice skates for you and drag you onto the ice rink, holding you by the waist or shoulders as he skated backwards in front of you, but also laughing at you when you inevitably fell. He’d tease you for getting second place at the science fair or for getting your arguments torn apart during Model United Nations, but the way he’d be a little nicer to you or share his food more often that week wouldn’t escape you.

Being a handsome young ice skater, Sunghoon had developed quite the loyal following of boys and girls alike who would come to see him at his competitions. He thrived off of the attention, but no matter how much he enjoyed his fans’ admiration, you were always the one he’d skate to after having won first place, hugging you tightly over the barrier separating the ice from the bleachers. Especially during your younger teen years, Sunghoon wasn’t one for skinship or PDA, so it always meant that much more to you that even after his most important wins, you were the first thing on his mind. It never failed to make your stomach flip, and all the death stares from his fans in the world couldn’t have changed a thing.

You were already close, but you became practically inseparable after Sunghoon’s injury. During the competition that would have gotten him a place at the Youth Winter Olympics had he won, his nerves got the best of him and he didn’t land his triple axel, hurting his ankle in the process. Ten years of dedication and hard work, ruined in mere seconds. To say that it destroyed him would be an understatement.

You were the one to bring him back up. You listened to him when he needed to vent, held him when he needed a shoulder to cry on, cheered him up when he needed to smile. He didn’t even need to tell you what he needed, you seemed to just know. You reminded him that he had a lot more value than his medals and trophies and that he didn’t need them to be complete. His family and friends tried their best to make him feel better, but their words never reached him quite like yours did.

Slowly but surely, his confidence came back. He’d lost his fans, but he’d gained a friend he knew would always be there for him. His dimples would appear more often, his laugh would resonate louder. His injury had made the two of you grow closer, creating a bond that would only strengthen over time.

And yet there were moments when being friends wasn’t enough. When calling him your best friend didn’t feel right. You had other friends, friends you were close to; sure, maybe not as close as to Sunghoon, but close nonetheless. And you didn’t feel that way around them.

Their laugh didn’t make your heart skip a beat. You didn’t want to bury your face in their necks and breathe in their scent when they hugged you. You didn’t want to know every single detail of their day. And you surely didn’t feel a pang of jealousy in your chest when they danced with another girl at your school ball.

You also didn’t crave their lips on yours every single day since it had happened for the first time and didn’t want to see what they sounded or looked like while getting the life sucked out of them through their dick.

Everybody told you it was obvious you were ‘more than friends.’ Why did romantic love have to be ‘more’ than platonic love? Why were there levels to it? You didn’t like the idea of taking your relationship with Sunghoon ‘one step further’; that wasn’t the way it felt to you. Rather, it felt like having to change everything you knew and create something new. Something where you could see him laugh and tell him about your day, but where you could also kiss him and graze his skin with your fingertips. Something that only you could share with him and only he could share with you. But you were afraid the friendship would fall apart if things didn't work out. So, instead of taking the risk of changing everything, you made sure things would stay the same. You’d tell the butterflies raging in your stomach to settle down and you wouldn’t let yourself fall into his touch in case it’d be like falling from the highest mountain.

That is, until he kissed you. Until this moment, right now, lying in his arms, ear right over his heart so you can hear it beat for you. You look up at him. His eyes are closed and a soft smile rests on his lips. He looks so peaceful. He always looks pleased when you’ve just been together, but right now, he seems to be in such a serene state, it almost makes you laugh.

Now that you’ve given in to your feelings, you’ve realized just how strong they were this whole time. Nothing has ever felt better than being in Sunghoon’s arms, than being able to see him at his most vulnerable state and to give all of you to him. All those things you didn’t know about him just six weeks ago, you know them by heart now. You’re sure there’s other things to find out, and you’ll make sure you will.

But summer won’t last forever.

A wave of sadness slaps you right in the face, bringing you back to reality. There’ll come a time where you and Sunghoon won’t be able to lounge around all day or lazily make-out at your will. You’ll go your own ways and not see each other for months at a time. The thought of that is unbearable, and you feel like looking at Sunghoon for a second longer might rip your heart into a million pieces.

When you sit up, tearing yourself away from his grip, he immediately opens his eyes, asking what’s wrong.

“Just need to go to the bathroom. I heard you can get STIs from not peeing after sex,” you half-lie. He nods and falls back into the bed. 

You rush to the toilet, needing to get far away from Sunghoon as quickly as possible. Even your pee smells different - guess that’s what having a dick inside you will do to you. You wash your hands and look in the mirror: your skin is darker in some spots, surely Sunghoon’s work. So not only did he mess with your thoughts, he also had to make your body all weird, too?

You splash your face with cold water, hoping it will bring you back to your senses. You and Sunghoon have been best friends for years. There’s no point in changing all of that now, is there? You’ll be leaving soon enough, anyway. Why ruin a perfectly fine friendship for a summer fling?

Those are your thoughts as you head back to Sunghoon’s bedroom, ready to tell him that this whole thing was a mistake and you should just pretend it never happened. But your resolve crumbles at your feet as soon as you step inside the room.

Sunghoon’s got a couple of snacks ready as he browses through Netflix in search of an appropriate movie. “How about Twilight?” he says when he feels the bed dip under your weight next to him. He kisses your forehead and pulls you down on the bed with him so that you’re lying back against his chest.

Screw it, you think. Whatever this is, it’s much more than a summer fling.

--

The rest of the summer goes by in a flash. No, you don’t try to make Sunghoon jealous by flirting with Heeseung; if the mention of the latter’s name was enough to get your friend mad, then purposefully twirling your hair or batting your eyelashes at the older boy just might make Sunghoon white-boy-punch a hole into a wall. And it’s not like Heeseung would try coming onto you, either, with how clingy Sunghoon gets when he’s around, always an arm around your waist and a glare that could kill Heeseung.

Sunghoon gradually opens up to Heeseung being around, even though it takes you reminding him almost daily that he’s the one whose arms you wanna end up in over anybody’s. After a couple weeks, Sunghoon stops looking like he's on the brink of starting a fight every time Heeseung so much as talks to you or hands you a glass of lemonade, and finally relaxes around him.

You spend countless sleepless nights with Sunghoon. You’ve probably memorized every single one of his moles by now, and you’ve made sure to kiss all of them. He holds you against him like he might lose you at any given moment. The only nights you don’t fall asleep in each other’s embrace are when either one of you is sleeping over at your friend’s house. On those nights, sleep always takes hours before washing over you, the lack of warmth keeping you awake.

Your friends and you spend entire days at the lake or by Sunghoon’s pool, not a care in the world. You rest your head on Sunghoon’s shoulder as you watch the fireworks Jake and Jay bought go off. Sunghoon grills your marshmallows for you, blowing on them so they cool down before handing you the stick. You try to ignore how the night air gets slightly chillier and how the sun sets slightly earlier, but by the last days of August, it becomes too noticeable. When September rolls around, you’re sure there’s a small crack in your heart.

You know Sunghoon feels the end of summer too. His kisses are deeper and his lips linger over yours a second longer. He frowns when he kisses you and hugs you, like he’s trying to remember what it feels like. His usual playful demeanor when you’re in bed together is gone, instead seemingly hellbent on making you feel good and almost begging you to say his name. As if you could say any other name. As if you could say anything else.

Neither of you mention your departure until the night before you leave. After spending the evening with your friends, you lie together in bed, the side of your face resting against his chest so you can feel his heart against your ear. He’s tracing patterns with his fingertips on your back, and it takes you a while to figure out he’s spelling his name over and over again, as if to etch it in your skin. When, once in a while, he takes his hand off of you to reach for his phone, you can still feel his fingers caressing you, ghostlike against your skin.

The air around you feels heavy, pressing the both of you down into the mattress. You wish the bed would eat you alive so you could stay there, warm against each other, as long as you like. You know you can’t leave without talking first, but the words won’t come to you. Instead, they float around the bed, weighing your heart down into your stomach.

“So,” you start. You're unsure what to say, but you know this conversation has to happen, one way or another. In the end, you settle on, “Excited to leave?”

Sunghoon scoffs lightly, his motions on your back coming to a stop. “Not really, no. It’s not like I’m leaving that far, and half of our school is going to our uni.”

“Maybe, but there’ll be tons of other people. Tons of other girls, too,” you add after a short pause.

“Don’t do this, Y/N, please.”

You sit up at his words. He covers his eyes with his forearm and takes a deep breath in, sensing an incoming argument. “Do what?”

“This. Getting mad at me when I haven’t done anything.”

“I’m not mad at you,” you protest, frowning down at him.

“No? Then what’s this?” he says, smoothing down the lines between your eyebrows and on your forehead with the pad of a finger.

“Whatever.” You nudge your head away from his touch. It burns. “It’s not like I’m wrong, anyway. You’re gonna have a bunch of girls at your feet, and you’ll know what to do with them, right? Now that you’re not a virgin?” you question, avoiding his gaze.

“Y/N…” he sighs, shutting his eyes tighter as if in pain.

“What? This was the whole reason why, right? Get experience with me so you could fuck girls better, no?”

“Y/N!” he says, raising his voice enough to let you know he’s upset but not enough to scare you. He sits up, looking at you with hurt and disbelief in his eyes. “What’s this all of a sudden? It’s not like I forced you into this! We agreed on it together!”

“So you agree? That this summer was just about getting experience and now you’ll use it on other girls and pretend like we,” you gesture between the two of you, “never happened?”

“What do you mean ‘agree’? I never said any of this! Don’t put words into my mouth!”

He watches as you get up from the bed, arms crossed and pacing his room. He calls out to you a few times, but you don’t stop to look at him until he speaks your name with a sternness you’ve never heard before from him. “What?” you snap.

“I don’t get why you’re acting like this out of nowhere! We both knew summer was gonna end at some point, and why we were doing this! Why are you blaming me now?”

“Because… because…” you sigh, scrambling for an excuse. Why were you doing this? The thought of Sunghoon doing what he did to you to another girl, making her feel as good as he had made you feel, kissing her like he had kissed you, made you sick. It made you see red, it made you want to make him wear a shirt with your face on it so everybody knew he was yours.

Sunghoon gets up and stands close in front of you, too close. You close your eyes. If you see his moles, you might reach out to touch them and let yourself fall even more. If you fall, you’ll need to get up, but his scent makes your knees weak.

His hands find your face, holding a little too gently, you think. Your small ones wrap around his wrists and grip them, a little too harshly, he thinks. 

You take a step back and finally look into his eyes. There’s hope in them; hope you’ll say what he wants, what he needs to hear. That you want him like he wants you. That you wish summer wasn’t over. That you’ll keep him in your heart until you can see him again. So, when what you say next is none of the above, he feels his heart sink down to his feet, leaving a murky puddle there.

“I can’t do this.”

You rush out of the room, practically running home. You fight your tears back until you slam your bedroom behind you, pathetically sinking to the ground as you let out a loud sob. You don't have the energy to get up, and cry into your hoodie's sleeve right there on the floor.

When you’ve calmed down a bit, you get up and lay in your bed, hiding your whole body underneath the covers. Maybe this is for the best, you think. If you end it like this, you won’t have the knowledge of whether he’ll wait to have you back or he’ll move on like nothing happened. That way, you can do whatever you want, not caring about what he’s up to. 

But even now, your hands subconsciously reach out towards a person that’s not there and your feet hang over the edge of your bed as though to get up and run to him anytime. You curl in on yourself to stop your body from aching for him. It doesn’t work very well.

Sunghoon stays where you left him for a few minutes, too stunned to move. Should he run after you? Should he let you cool off for a bit and talk to you in the morning? Would you be mad at him if he didn’t try to see you now or would the mere sight of him just make you angrier? He plops down on his bed as these questions run through his mind, butting into each other and making everything more confusing. 

He thinks back on everything that led to this, and his mind settles on that day a few days after graduation where his thoughts had dropped to the lowest pits of hell. If only you hadn’t brought those two damned lollipops.

--

The next morning, Sunghoon wakes up as if somebody had slapped him awake. He doesn’t bother to brush his teeth or eat anything before running over to your house, almost forgetting to put shoes on. He finds you in your room, packing the last of your things into an already full suitcase. He stands at your door, panting as his hands rest on his knees.

“You haven’t left yet. Thank God.”

“God, Hoon. It’s not that far between your house and mine. How are you so out of breath,” you say, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.

He walks to you and kneels in front of you, taking you in his arms before you can say anything. “Talk to me, please. Don’t leave like this. I’d never forgive myself if you left and you were mad at me, Y/N.”

You thought you’d cried so much last night that there was not a single drop of water left in your body, but you thought wrong. Your eyes immediately well up at his words, and he leans back when he hears a soft sniffle escaping you. Only then does he notice how puffy your eyes from all your crying.

“No, no… Have you been crying? I’m so sorry, pretty, please don’t cry,” he pouts, pulling you back into his embrace. It hasn’t even been half a day, but you missed his warmth so much, it only makes you cry harder.

After sobbing against his chest, possibly staining his shirt in the process, you pull away and in your light-headed, dehydrated state, spill your heart out. “It’s so stupid,” you sob. “We’re not gonna see each other for months and I’m gonna miss you so much and I don’t want you to be with other girls. I want you all to myself and I don’t want to be your friend that you fucked for a summer just so you could get experience, it was a stupid idea in the first place, if you wanted to kiss me, you should’ve just kissed me. But you didn’t just kiss me and now I’m scared that this all meant nothing to you but everything to me and that I don’t want to be friends anymore but you do and I’m mad that it took me all summer to say this even though I’ve known it for years but I didn’t want to admit it to myself but also you didn’t say anything and I’m mad about that too. Because there’s no way you don’t feel like I do but maybe you actually don’t and-”

Whatever you were about to say dies out against Sunghoon’s lips as he presses his lips to yours, interrupting your rambling. He pulls away, looking at you with a huge, stupid grin. He’s so stupid, you think. I love him so much.

“Fucking hell, Y/N. I’ve been waiting for you to say this so bad, you have no idea.”

You punch his chest, frowning at him. Those stupid tears won’t stop. Everything is so stupid. “Then why didn’t you say it first?”

“Because I didn’t know how to. You know I’m bad with words. And I was scared it’d make things weird.”

“I don’t want things to be weird,” you pout.

“I don’t want things to be weird, either. I want things to be nice and happy.”

You giggle. “That’s so stupid.”

“Right? It’s so stupid,” he repeats, kissing you again.

“Your breath smells,” you complain when he pulls away.

“And you have tears on your lips. Tastes salty,” he teases.

“Yeah, thanks to who?”

“Sorry.” He smiles and kisses you again. He holds you against him for a while, enjoying this last moment together. As long as he can see a smile on your face before you leave, he’ll be fine.

“I’m gonna miss you so much too, Y/N. And forget about those non-existent girls. There’s no one I’d rather be with than you.”

“How do you know? You haven’t met any of them yet,” you say, voice muffled against his t-shirt.

“I’ve met other girls before. None of them compare to you,” he says, and you immediately gag at how cliché it sounds. “What?! It’s true,” he giggles.

“You’re not gonna go and date a random guy, are you?”

“Of course not. None of them compare to you,” you say, lowering your voice to imitate his.

He helps you finish packing, and when you’re done, you lay together on your bed, not saying much because not much needs to be said. Your parents struggle to tear you away from each other and from your bed when it’s time to leave. He helps your dad put your baggage in the trunk of his car, telling you to not lift a finger so you watch him go to and from the car, leaving a kiss on your forehead every time he walks past you. You notice with a smile that he doesn’t carry much at once, making him have to go back-and-forth quite often.

After saying goodbye to your family, your dad waits in the car as you and Sunghoon hang back awkwardly, kicking small pebbles on the pavement. He takes your hand in his, making you look up at him, then takes the other hand, then hugs you close to him.

“I’m gonna miss you,” you say, as if that wasn’t obvious. You’re trying hard to fight tears from falling again, but it’s like there’s an ocean behind your eyes, water somehow never running out. 

“I already miss you,” he says, and that’s enough to get you to sob again, which makes him start crying too. You’re crying, he’s crying, your mom is crying from the porch as she watches the two of you, it’s a mess.

You force yourself away from him, cupping his face in your hands. “We’ll see each other soon, okay? And college will be fun. You won’t even have time to miss me. But make time to think about me, yeah? And text me.”

“I will. I’ll think about you all the time, I already do,” he says.

“Okay,” you whisper and hug him one last time, very briefly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. You’re about to walk away but he doesn’t let go of your hand and pulls on your arm to bring you back to him.

Pressing his forehead against yours, he whispers, “I love you,” and you sob.

“I love you, too.”

This time, when you walk away, he lets you go. He watches as you get into the passenger’s seat and as the car drives away, as it takes you away from him. You watch him stand there in the rearview mirror, until his silhouette becomes smaller, and smaller, and smaller, until you can’t see him at all anymore.

--

Summer went and fall came as they do every year. Dead leaves are falling but it’s a new start for you. It’s a new town and you don’t know anybody, but you click instantly with your roommate and make new friends throughout your first week there. You realize everybody’s in the same boat, and they’re all eager to meet people and are curious about college life. You love your classes but complain about them nonetheless. You eat more ramen than you’d like to admit and turn up hungover at a 9 am class on a Thursday. You pull all-nighters at the library and develop a caffeine dependency. You’re a college student.

You and Sunghoon were very dramatic when you left, you soon realize. You call almost everyday. He’s not there with you and you miss him but at least you don’t have to pretend you’re not stupidly in love with him anymore. Because it’s stupid, being in love, it really is. You wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Your first semester passes by almost too quickly, and before you know it, you’re on the drive home, already one eighth of the way through university. You’re excited to go home, but Sunghoon’s finals last a week longer so you wait around for him. When you complain about it, Chaeyoung tells you to get a grip. “You haven’t seen him in three months, I’m sure you can handle another week.”

And you can, but barely. You were about to explode but then he’s back and you’re in his arms and his hair is still so soft, his scent is still so comforting and his moles are still there. You kiss them both before you finally press your lips to his, and it makes you feel so alive, you could die right then and there.

You lie on his bed and talk for hours as if you didn’t keep in touch the whole time and it’s like you never left. It’s like summer never ended and you’ve just been lying in his bed the whole time, college just one big fever dream. 

But his skin doesn’t smell like chlorine anymore, and he’s not in his swimming trunks. It’s fall, almost winter, and you’re kissing Park Sunghoon. You realize you can kiss him whatever the season and you find comfort in that. It was a big day (you cried a lot when you saw him) and you’re tired so you think you’ll kiss for a bit and that’ll be all but then he whispers “I missed you so much” against your neck and a fire lights inside your stomach. Oh, how it burns. You think it might consume you whole, but you don’t dislike that idea.

In a flash, you’re on top of him, his shirt is off, your shirt is off, but it’s not enough so you take your pants off too and Sunghoon is confused as to why you’re going so fast, but follows you anyway. “What’s going on?” he asks when you’re done with the taking off of your clothes and have moved on to kissing and biting at his neck like it’s your first meal in ages, because it is.

“I missed you too,” you simply answer, and he smirks as he nods slowly, now understanding your eagerness.

“Missed me that much, huh?” he teases, letting his head fall back against the pillow so you have better access to his neck.

“Shut up. Kiss me,” you order, and he doesn’t need to be told twice. Your kisses are ravenous and desperate, very fitting for two horny people in love who haven’t seen each other in months. But the pulse in your core makes you too impatient to stay anywhere for too long, and really, it’s not your fault if you’re grinding down onto Sunghoon’s clothed erection, it’s just that he smells too good and you missed him too much.

Sunghoon laughs at you for being so impatient to hide just how impatient he is. His giggles keep him from moaning loudly enough to wake the whole house, and you laugh as you tell him to stop laughing.

“I’m serious. I missed you so much. Need you so bad,” you say as you get rid of your underwear and quickly do the same for his. He gasps when he feels you take his dick in your hand and brush its tip between your folds, both out of pleasure and out of surprise.

“Shouldn’t I get you ready? Stretch you out a bit?” he asks, his hands roaming up and down your back as he sits up on the bed so that you’re straddling his lap, and you shake your head no. You’re probably already embarrassingly wet from your short makeout session, anyway.

“I don’t care if it hurts,” you say, lining his tip with your entrance. “Need to feel you.”

You sink down on his cock, the both of you releasing loud moans at the long-awaited feeling. He lets you adjust to his size for a minute, but as soon as you move your hips just a bit, signaling to him that you’re ready for more, it’s over for you. He wanted to be patient and take his time, he really did, but you feel so warm around him and your small whimpers are so pretty that his resolve of letting you take the lead is thrown out the window. He pounds into you at a rapid pace that has you biting his shoulder to keep yourself from screaming.

You had imagined your first time back with Sunghoon so many times before. It usually involved a nice playlist in the background, fairy lights and candles lighting the room, hours of foreplay and sensual lovemaking, with a nice bath afterwards. Sometimes, when you were particularly needy for him, you imagined something closer to what was actually happening, where you’d rip each other’s clothes as soon as you got to the bedroom and fucked like animals (a bit much, admittedly, but you really missed him).

What you definitely hadn’t expected, however, was that you’d both cum in less than five minutes. What could you do, though, when he was hitting your g-spot over and over again, his length stretching you perfectly as he whispered in your ear how much he’d missed you and how good you felt? And what could he do when you took him in so well, clinging onto him as you told him how much you’d missed him and how good he felt?

You finish at the same time, hole clenching around him and milking him dry. He doesn’t pull out for a while, letting you collapse onto him as you both catch your breaths, just like you had that first time. “That was a bit quick,” he pants, and you can’t help but laugh. 

You pull back to look at his face. It’s so pretty and stupid. What a stupid face that you love so much. Do you love it because it’s stupid or is it stupid because you love it? You think that that’s a stupid question, and you kiss the mole on his nose, then the mole on his cheek, right next to his nose.

“We have all night to go slower.”

“We have all Christmas break,” he corrects.

We have the rest of our lives, you think, and you think that might be a bit much, but you say it anyway. Sunghoon hums and says, “yes, we do,” and you think maybe it’s not all that stupid.

Maybe it’s the greatest thing that’s ever been.

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[ode2rin]

new boyfriend rin would never ever, under any circumstance, admit that he likes the pet names you call him. well… unless you would stop doing it. (also me pushing the bffs to lovers pipeline)

You must be upset with him, Rin is convinced so. It’s the only logical and sensible explanation behind this unusual behavior. 

And he's going mad about it. Itoshi Rin is going mad any second now if he can't get to the bottom of this, he’s certainly convinced.

Every instinct screamed that your recent behavior was a reaction to something he'd done, but what? Was it the late replies to your text messages? No, you knew he was at practice and you told him you didn’t mind. Was it about the souvenir he brought back home to you from Paris? Sure, you teased him about its impracticality, but nothing that warranted this icy distance.

Or maybe it was something he said now? It must be, right? Everything boils down to his reckless poor choice of words, he supposes.

Slowly, Rin approached you by the couch you’re seated in. With your attention preoccupied by the selection of shows you’re browsing, you settled on looking at him briefly through your peripheral vision. Amused by how he’s slightly tiptoeing around, you let out a half-suppressed laugh to yourself. 

He looks like a cat sometimes, you thought from the sight. And acts like one too. Like a big black cat who would hiss at you if you looked at him funny, or one that would bite your hand if you stopped petting him to sleep. Funny how Rin could be like that too.

The moment Rin settles into the plush comfort of the couch, he gazes at you through lowered lashes, trying to read the play of emotions on your face, if there’s any. 

There’s nothing worth noting, and he doesn’t know if that should assure or bother him.

“Are we… alright?” he drawled.

What the fuck. He did not just sound like that. 

He did not just ask that and sounded like an anxious pathetic wet cat who just had a new home waiting for its owner’s permission over anything (highly specific because he’s a bit dramatic). Just what kind of loser have you reduced him into, really.

Oblivious of the internal turmoil in Rin’s mind, you turn to him, “Hmm? Yeah? Why’d you ask?”

“Nothing,” he grumbled. It’s enough that he already humiliated himself for the way he asked if the two of you were cool— doing it again by exposing himself that he thinks you’re mad plainly because he hadn’t heard you call him a pet name (like you always do) would be mortification in its final form.

“Okay, Rin.”

That’s it. This needs to end. Forget humiliation. He would rather choose to feel pathetic over any day than continue with this charade.

“Are you mad at me?” 

“Why would you think that?” you asked back instantly, shocked and extremely confused because of your boyfriend’s question. You’re literally just looking for a movie the two of you can watch— how is that any indication of being mad at him?

“Just answer the question,” he fumed, impatience settling on the furrow of his brows.

You said in the beginning of your relationship that you didn’t appreciate the silent treatment and guessing games, so don’t you think it’s hypocritical of you to do the same to him? (You’re not, but he just doesn’t know that.)

“I’m not mad at you, Rin.”

“You so are!” 

“I am not! But you, yelling and instigating it are making me right now!” you countered, voice hinted with irritation, “What is your problem, Rin?”

There it is again. Rin rose from the couch to face your sitting form, as if standing would better prove his point. “See? You’re calling me Rin!” he blurted.

“Well, maybe because it’s your name?!”

“Not to you, it’s not!”

A beat of surprised silence. Until your lips grew to such a wide smile that made Rin physically feel his heart melting. 

Yet, in Rin’s true fashion, he’ll never let you know how much air you knock out of him because of your beaming smile. Instead, he’ll say something along the snarky lines of, “Stop smiling like that.”

“Did my big bad grumpy Rinnie here thought we’re on a fight because I hadn’t call him baby?” you ask, purposely stressing out the words to disarm him more.

With a feigned exasperation, he comments, “I forgot how annoying you are.” 

“And I forgot how childish you can get sometimes,” you countered.

“I’m not childish.”

“You don’t mind me calling you Rin then?”

Rin rolled his eyes at you, but you know better than to put meaning to it. He lowered himself onto the couch beside you. With a swift tug, Rin pulled you closer, closing the distance between you effortlessly. His arm found its way around your waist, drawing you snugly against his chest.

“But I don’t see why you need to…” Maybe he could be a bit childish.

“I thought you didn’t like it,” you shyly muttered, drawing shapes in his arm. “The pet names, I mean,” you clarified, sensing the confused look he’s probably giving you behind.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He is baby. He is Rinnie. Fucking hell, that’s so loser of him to even voice it out in his own mind. 

“What? You call me by my name!” you defensively pointed out.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t like your nicknames of me,” he mumbled, the words barely audible.

The pet names— they were more than what they served. It was important to him more than what he would admit. 

They were a secret language, a way you marked him as yours. A reminder that he wasn't just Rin anymore— just your friend.

He was now something more, something special.

A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Besides… I love your name,” he whispered, his voice velvet against your hair.

It’s tender— no, it makes him tender. Saying your name has been the softest, kindest, and most tender way he’s used his words for. 

Maybe it’s a little pathetic, feeling this undone by a name. But then it’s you. 

It was your name— a name he could whisper with adoration, a name that belonged only to him to claim. 

You melt to his words, leaning deeper into his chest. A contented sigh escaped your lips, the sound swallowed by the warmth of his embrace.

Looking up at him, your eyes held a softness he often found himself getting lost in, “I love your name too, but I also like calling you pet names. Is it okay?”

“Whatever you decide.” He’s yours, either way.

note. this is basically rin being "my nameeee is whatever you decideeeee and i'm just gonna call you mineeee i'm insane but i'm your baby!!!!" yeah that song basically.

[haveihitanerve]

Gotham fucking loves Brucie Wayne

Some nice Brucie Wayne headcanons for you all

Hes an idiot and a dork but he makes social events interesting because who else would fall into the chocolate fountain?

At any social event where kids are invited as well he can most definitely be found with the kids, talking to them like they are adults

He never treats anyone as inferior unless they're dicks

He once punched riddler in the face because he interrupted a girls birthday party

He has an entire fashion line that is dedicated to giving people actually comfortable practical clothes

Hes an absolute unit in bed. For both men and women. (either top or bottom)

He once held a man upside down by his ankles and shook him until everything had fallen out of his pockets because he had used to be a bully and was now a dick

Can and will walk teenagers home if its late at night. 

Always tips very generously

He was once in line at a batburger and there was a karen yelling at the poor 16 year old cashier and he walked to the front and just started sticking 100 dollar bills into the tip jar with the nastiest smile aimed at the karen. ‘The more you yell the more i tip.’ (the cashier was, coincidently stephanie brown, and she high fived him)

He has a social media but never uses it unless its to draw awareness to a certain cause or to show off his children. 

He also posts beautiful pictures of gotham, or of mundane everyday things, showcasing the beauty in life

(Is canonically a feminist)

Will protect waiters/servers/janitors from creeps or gotham elite who think theyre better than them

He stopped adopting kids but still pays for as many college tuitions as he can

Funded a city wide disability infrastructure plan so people with wheelchairs could go places too

He once rocked three guys with guns’s shit because they were attempting to molest these little boys

Punched a teacher in the face for making a student cry

Will at any time drop everything the second one of his kids asks him to

There is an entire instagram account dedicated to pictures of him helping old people cross the street

Once a month he visits inmates at the prison and offers them jobs

Genuinely cares for his workers and buys them houses and cars if they need it

Literally created gothams public transportation system and made sure it was free

Teamed up with poison ivy to make public gardens for everyone to enjoy

Funds clean energy research

Any celebrity fan mail he receives he answers personally

One time a little girl asked him to come to her birthday party and he did and brought presents

Taught an entire school basic self defense

Brucie Wayne may be an idiotic little shit but he is the Prince of Gotham and Gothamites would lay down their lives for him more willingly than they would for Batman.