#what do you even call bug sex man

[naughty-loco-warehouse]

"you cant fuck baxter stockfly" and i took that personally

BTW CW/TW for gross insect s*x and one of the images depicting dubcon

MINORS DNI!!

[reidsfilm]

𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋 — SIMON RILEY

PARING: simon ''ghost'' riley x !fem reader

WARNINGS: SMUT!! (18+) pure filth, p in v, (wrap it up folks) unprotected sex, praise, petnames; bug, good girl, pretty girl etc, swearing, hair pulling, soft!dom ghost, oral (male receiving) aftercare. no use of y/n. simon being needy and desperate. slight dom! reader for a bit, creampie, cum eating, fluff.

SUMMARY: You and Simon were just casual until one day you weren't.

WORD COUNT : 6,3k

Notes: I wish fictional men were real. WHY AREN'T THEY!! not proofread.

Simon was never supposed to let anyone close, to let his whole stoic and brooding facade be weakened. He was a hard man, the years spent in the military have shaped him into something unbreakable.

Until you.

It was only supposed to be casual, shared cigarettes after a mission, and small chats, which led to numerous times spent in his barracks, his cock spearing you open each time. But you longed for it, to feel him against you, his praises and degrading words in your ear, his large scarred hands mapping out every inch of your body. His mouth caressing against your own. You'd never felt like this with anyone else, no other man has been able to bring you to this kind of ecstasy.

But this was only supposed to be casual. You weren't supposed to catch feelings, and neither was he. But you both knew you couldn't ignore them whenever you slept together. Or whenever you shared conversations about each other's past. Though you were more open about it than Simon, which was fair— you weren't going to force anything out of the man.

You knew how Simon worked, and vulnerability was a sight you did not often see whenever you were around the man. He was the most intriguing person you had ever met, and it only made you ever the more interested in him, and you knew you were in love with him.

But being just casual turned into something much more, though neither of you voiced your thoughts about it. Fleeting touches, eating together, and passing glances in the base hallway. It even went as far as her stopping using his callsign 'Ghost' and instead calling him Simon.

It was purely a slip-up once, and you had quickly apologized, though he was quick to say he didn't mind you using his real name. Because he didn't mind— at all. He liked the way his name sounded on your lips and was slowly itching to hear you say his name more, his name sounding sweet and like it was dipped in honey when it came out of your lips.

Your head lay on his chest, tracing shapes against his stomach as the two of you lay together in his bed, naked limbs tangled together. Smoke filled the room as Simon took another drag from his cigarette.

''You're quiet, what are you thinking about?'' You questioned, being met with silence from Simon. ''Simon?'' You moved your head so you could see his face, ''Us.'' Was all he said and your brows furrowed.

You sat up, the duvet slipping off down to your lap, exposing your naked upper body. Your chest was covered in love bites — something Simon had started doing more, like he was claiming you as his. Your breasts were full and supple and they moved when you turned to look at him.

''What are you thinking about that includes us?'' You questioned softly as you snatched the cigarette from his fingers, giving him a sly smile before taking a drag. ''You gonna cut me off?''

''Am I not good enough at giving head? Is that it? Or is it my lack of… experience?'' You questioned in a joking tone, though you were a little weary about what he had meant.

Simon takes the cigarette back from you. The filter is wet from your lips, something he quickly takes notice of. His eyes move up slowly, admiring your body before returning to your face. A small smile quirks up his lips at your cheeky question.

''You’ve never had complaints about either,'' he quips back with a smirk. ''And you’ll never hear one from me. Your mouth is good,'' he murmurs and brings the cigarette to his lips.

You hummed as you lifted the duvet off of your body before you straddled his hips. You once more took the cigarette from him, a teasing and taunting glint in your eyes as you giggled. ''Oh, is it good? Maybe I should practice on more men to get more opinions.'' You joked lightly as you stared down at him, though a dark look came across Simon's face at your words.

''I’m just joking. The only cock I want is yours.’’ You purred softly you traced your fingers over his stomach and up to his chest.

A sudden, irrational thought of your pretty, plump mouth wrapped around someone else's cock causes him to get angry in a flash.

He grabs your wrist, the cigarette nearly falling out of your hand as Simon suddenly sits up. His other hand grabs your jaw and his gaze locks with yours.

There’s a possessive, cold look in his eyes.

''You’re mine,'' he growls. ''Only mine.''

''I'm yours, baby,’’ You muttered softly as you looked at him, your eyes piercing through his dark ones. You used your free hand and placed it on his chest, over his heart. Before you reached over to the nightstand to put the cigarette out into the ashtray.

''The only man who can make me climax five times in a row is you.’’ You purred as you looked at him, caressing his chest. You felt his cock poking at your inner thigh, and you looked at Simon with a raised brow.

''Is the little man excited?’’ You questioned with a small giggle.

Your soft hand caressing over his chest helps to ease his possessive anger and Simon lets out a slow breath. He’s still simmering with jealousy but he can keep a handle on it now.

Simon looks down between their bodies and notes how his growing erection is pressing against you through the blanket. He leans forward and his breath tickles your ear as he replies with a low grumble.

''He gets excited just from you talking, love.''

You raised an eyebrow as you cocked her head to the side. ''Yeah? Is that so? Maybe I should give him some attention.'' You purred as your hand slipped down his chest, towards his stomach, and under the blanket, grabbing a firm hold of him and making Simon growl at your touch. ''Oh... he's hard as a rock. Poor baby.'' You cooed softly as you used your free hand to caress his jawline.

Simon's eyes close as you cup his throbbing cock in your hand. His hands grab your hips and he bites back a groan. Your touch sets his nerves on fire and your words fan the flames.

''Keep talking like that, love, and he’ll be coming very soon.''

''Yeah? Best get him inside me before that then.’’ You teased as you chucked the duvet off and to the side of the bed, exposing you both fully. You lifted your hips before situating yourself over his weeping cock, before slowly sinking down.

A soft moan slipped from your lips as you sunk down on him completely. ''Fuck… making me feel so full.'' You whimpered as you clutched onto his shoulders.

Simon moaned as your walls hugged him tightly and wrapped around his cock. ''So tight,'' he muttered huskily. ''And so perfect. This cunt was made for me.''

His hands grabbed your hips as you started riding him. The feeling was pure ecstasy. He’d never felt this way with anyone. You were unlike anyone before you. He was addicted. Addicted to you. Addicted to the way you felt.

''Bug...'' his voice was rough and his heart raced. He was falling in love with you without even meaning to.

Bug, the nickname used to carry mockery, now only served to make your stomach flutter. Simon had given you the nickname long before you became close because you irritated him— like a bug. A bug who always followed after him, ready to bite and latch onto him. You hated it at first, but now you couldn't help but find it endearing as it came from his mouth.

''Si…'' You whimpered as you clutched onto his shoulders, rocking your hips back and forth as you threw your head back in pure pleasure. Your breasts bounced at your movements, and your mouth opened and closed as your eyes shut. The feeling of having him inside you was heaven itself.

You had denied your feelings for him for way too long, but uncertain that Simon probably only wanted to continue your sex with no strings attached. But this moment brought your feelings up to the surface like an explosion.

The sounds of your flesh coming together filled the room. Simon was entranced by the sight of you riding him. He always was, it was like watching an angel.

His breathing was hitched and his grip on your hips was harder than it should have been. Most likely going to leave marks, but neither of you seemed to care.

He was falling for you. He wanted you. All of you. But he didn’t know how to say it without screwing everything up.

''You feel so good..'' he murmured between pants. ''So good for me.''

''You're the one that makes me feel good..'' You said between breaths as you continued to ride him, your hips rocking against him as you chased that high — that pure heavenly feeling you craved.

''Only one that makes me feel this good… just you... s'only you.'' You rambled on sweetly as you captured his lips in a searing kiss — an I am so fucking in love with you kiss.

One of your hands left his shoulder and instead gripped the back of his nape as your fingers threaded through his hair. ''I… I love you..''

You couldn't help the words from slipping from your lips as your mouth was against his. You had to let him know how you felt, how he made you feel. You weren't regretting it, not a bit.

Your declaration of love hits him like a truck. His heart raced and his blood pumped loudly in his ears. He had never been confessed to before. Never had anyone uttered those words to him. But he would only fool himself if he didn't admit it made him ecstatic.

He held your hips tightly as you rode him, his heart swelling at your soft words. His fingers dug into your skin as he kissed her back, filled with a sudden desperation to stay closer. To have all of you.

“I love you, bug...” he groaned as he panted against your lips.

He loved you— he actually loved you too. And your heart couldn't help but swell at the declaration. Only making your head feel all the more fuzzier.

''Mhm… I love you more.'' You muttered against his lips, your eyes locked as your hips ground against his, as his own hips pistons against your own. Your lips teasingly mingled close, your breaths hitting each other’s face. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers trailing softly against his back.

His cock twitched inside of you, making it known he was close.

Simon's heart pounded against his chest as you confessed your love for him again. He would never tire of hearing those words, never tire of looking into your eyes, and never tire of your sweet body against his.

He kissed you again, his fingers squeezing into your skin. He wanted to hold you to his chest and never let you go. Wanted to shield you from everything. He never wanted to leave your side. Simon wanted to be your man.

''Bug…'' he muttered. ''M'close, I'm close…'' Your walls clamped around him, squeezing his cock and making him groan.

''I know… I’m close too. Want you to fill me up. Make me yours, body and soul.'' You muttered as your breasts were squashed against his chest. Your pace quickened as one of Simon's hands held your hips while the other gripped the globe of your ass, groping and squeezing the flesh.

''You think I’d look good pregnant?'' You questioned as you rode him.

The thought just slipped into your mind, and the idea of being full and round with Simon's child did sound enticing.

Simon groaned as he heard those words. The idea of you bearing his child made a possessive thrill shoot through him and a feral growl tore itself from his lips. He held onto your hips tightly as his climax approached.

He’d never considered having children before, never cared for the thought. But the idea of you carrying his baby made him excited.

Happy.

You’d look gorgeous..'' he grunted as his thrusts grew more erratic. ''Would you let me give you my baby?'' He questioned as he panted.

''Yes… want to be filled with your cum and carry your child.'' You whined softly as you grew more tired of rocking your hips. Simon noticed and took charge, flipping you over so he hovered over you, before plunging back inside and making your back arch.

Simon settled between her spread thighs as he continued to plunge into her. Your words made his blood pound in his ears and his heart beat fiercely against his chest.

He would fill you up. Knock you up. Claim you as his.

Simon kissed you and whispered sweet nothings against your lips. ''Are you on birth control, bug?''

''Would you be mad if I said no? I have no intention of trapping you, unwillingly.'' You gasped as you scratched at his back, your breasts pressing up against his chest when you arched your back. Your pussy fluttered around his cock, feeling the familiar coil in your stomach hanging on by a thin thread.

Simon shook his head and peppered your neck with kisses. ''I want you to be mine,'' he growled. ''I'm yours. You're mine. I want to give you a baby.''

He pressed his forehead against yours, his thrusts slowing to languid but deep rolls of his hips. His breathing was labored as he panted, on edge but trying to draw out the pleasure.

''I won't pull out when I finish,'' he warned. ''I want you to get pregnant. Is that alright with you, love?''

''Yes… yes, I want that. Fill me up, paint my walls white.'' You moaned as he thrust into you, feeling your walls clamping around him as he twitched. You felt your climax nearing its peak, and you knew Simon was close too, by his movement increasing and the sound of your skin smacking against each other.

His balls slapping up against the underside of your ass.

Simon continued to slowly roll his hips, trying to hold out and not finish too soon. He wanted to make you finish first.

One of his hands grabbed your jaw and he turned your head so you would focus on him. His hazel eyes were heavy-lidded, his breath leaving him in heavy gasps, and his face flushed.

''You gonna cum for me, love?'' The pad of his finger rubs over your bottom lip. ''This cute little cunt takes me so well. ''Gonna cum on my cock, hm?

You nodded as you looked up at him, your eyes locked with his hazel eyes. The coil in your stomach was at a breaking point and before you knew it your orgasm came washing over you. ''Si...fuck... so good.''' You babbled as your juices coated around his cock, dripping out from your sopping pussy.

You arched your back more as you let out a wanton and loud moan, the sound bouncing off the walls as you buried your head in the pillows, your eyes rolling back in sheer delight.

Your orgasm triggered his own and he groaned out loud, his hips snapping forward as you came deep inside you. His cum spurts into you and as promised, coats your gummy walls white.

His orgasm tore through him powerfully and he could only manage to hold himself up by his elbow before he collapsed onto your body. He buried his head in the junction between your neck and shoulder and caught his breath against your skin.

You had never felt so blissed out and spent before. Sure, the other times you two had sex, it was good. But in those times you were only fucking for your own pleasures. But this was on a whole other level, this was to people who were deeply in love and connected to each other, making love.

''Fuck… mhm…'' You breathed out as you came down from your high. Your body twitched and writhed underneath him, as Simon was still buried inside you. He sat up and pulled out, making you whine as some of his cum spurted out onto your lower stomach.

You stared up at him and watched as he panted.

You watched the muscles in his body contract and his large cock growing soft against his stomach. His cum dribbled down out of your puffy hole, staining the sheets.

Simon looked down where his cum had leaked out of you and groaned at the display.

The sight of you covered in his cum did something to him. Made his possessive instincts flare up. You were marked by him and he liked it. He thoroughly enjoyed seeing you like this.

''Look at you. This pretty little cunt and stomach, covered in my cum.'' He muttered as he leaned down to kiss your cheek. ''Lay still. I want you… messy and reeking of me.''

You whined as he kissed your cheek then your forehead and lastly your lips. He chuckled softly at your whine before leaning over to open a drawer and taking out a Polaroid camera. ''You gonna take a picture of me like this?'' You questioned, your words so soft and almost a mere whisper as you stared up at him.

Your thighs were still quite shaky, a thin layer of sweat covered your naked skin. Your chest heaved as you breathed.

Simon looked down at you with a smirk, his eyes dark with desire just from the sight of you. God, you were perfect.

''How did you know?'' He murmurs, snapping a picture. He watched as it developed in his hand and another smirk tugged at his lips.

''God, you know how to make a man feral.'' He looked down at the picture, with your legs spread wide, your cheeks flushed and your half-lidded eyes looking up at the camera. His cum covering your stomach and leaking out of your pussy.

''Yeah?’'' You questioned as you sat up, taking a tissue and wiping your stomach clean. ''I want you to use me…'' You muttered as you crawled over to the edge of the bed. Simon growled as he watched you, giving your ass a soft smack.

You got down onto the floor, settling on your knees, as you looked over at him. You licked at your lips, your eyes gleaming. ''Please?''

''Bug, we gotta get you cleaned up first.'' He spoke as he neared the edge of the bed, settling down on it with his legs spread. His cock which was soft slowly stirring back to life again. You licked your lips again at the sight.

''Later, I want to make you feel good. Wanna be a good girl for you.'' You stared up at him, wide doe eyes piercing into his hazel eyes. Simon stared down at you, and god did you look good on your knees, all for him.

He leaned down on the edge of the bed and his hands reached out to cup her face. ''Are you sure?'' he asked softly, his thumb stroking the flesh of your cheek.

He wasn’t going to push you to do anything you didn’t want to. He never wanted to make you uncomfortable or push your boundaries. You were the one in control, and Simon would let you do anything you wanted, he just needed to hear you say it.

''I want to mouth on you.'' You purred as you nuzzled your cheek against his thumb, You shifted closer to his spread legs, your lips salivating at the sight before you.

His cock was thick, veins sticking out here and there. And his cockhead was the same color as his pretty lips.

Simon stared down at her, his pulse quickening as anticipation coursed through his veins.

''Baby...'' he whispered as he watched you press closer, his eyes dark with lust and need. The pet name came out of his mouth before he had even registered it, but you seemed to like it as you shuffled closer.

His hand threaded itself into your hair, his fingers clenching in your locks. ''You’re going to be the death of me, you know that, don't you? You're going to be my undoing.''

His other hand came to rest on your shoulder, his thumb tracing the skin tenderly.

His eyes watched your every movement, his gaze hot and heavy. It always amazed him how someone so innocent could look so sinful at the same time.

He gently tugged on your hair, his breath coming in soft pants. ''Go on, love. Stop staring at me like that, I might just cum from that look alone.''

You shifted a bit closer until you were between his spread knees. You were a sight to behold, sitting on your knees looking so pretty.

''Mmm... I’m just taking my time.'' you purred before leaning forward to run the tip of your tongue along the underside of his shaft.

''You like that, right?'' you whispered, your tongue still tracing his cock.

You could feel him straining, could see him twitch. Your gaze never left his. Your hand reached out and wrapped around him, pumping slowly. She watched as his eyes fluttered closed and he groaned, his fingers tightening in your hair. ''Bloody hell..'' he muttered huskily.

''Mmm.. seems like I’m doing a good job so far then,'' you said quietly, your thumb rubbing at the crown.

''I’m just getting started though.''

You began to pepper his cock with kisses, starting up at the underside all the way to the head before making your way back down.

You swirled your tongue around the flared head, He groaned again, louder this time. You gave the head small kitten licks.

''You’re being cruel, love.'' he bit out in a strained voice. ''Stop teasing me. Please.''

It wasn't often you found yourself hearing Simon beg. It was a rare occurrence. Usually, he'd just take what he wanted from you, forcing your mouth down on his cock and making you gag on it until you were crying. But now he was begging, pleading for you to give him more.

To have your lips wrap around him.

You smirked, your eyes filled with mischief. ''I’m not teasing you. I’m just giving you attention.''

You kept up with the kitten licks, purposely avoiding taking him into your mouth. ''You're fucking evil you know that, love?'' Simon groaned as he let his head loll back, eyes closed, his breath coming in short.

''Just give me that mouth of yours like a good girl, please.''

There it was again, that desperate tone of voice. It made you wanna hold back even more, have him completely and utterly under your control.

You chuckled at this. ''Impatient, Lieutenant?'' you questioned, knowing you were winding him up.

''Maybe I’ll just keep up this slow, torturous pace until you’re begging me to let you come.''

He growled angrily at her response. ''You've got a mouth on ya, don't you love?''

He pulled your hair, forcing your head back so he could look you in the eyes. ''You’re really going to make me beg, hm? Are you getting off on this, love? Is this making your pussy all creamy, hm?'' His tone was condescending, but it only seemed to further spur you on.

Having Simon who was a hard nut to crack, at her beck and call. Yeah, it felt damn fucking good.

''Maybe I am,'' you said confidently. ''Maybe I’m loving the thought of you at my mercy for once.''

His grip on your hair tightened, tugging again and making a small gasp slip from your lips. He hated being desperate. But he hated being at someone's mercy even more.

He let out a frustrated huff, his body shuddering involuntarily as your breath ghosted over his skin. ''You want me to beg? Then I’ll beg. I’ll do whatever you want, just give me those lips, love.''

He found himself almost wincing at how pathetic he sounded.

You hummed in response, your gaze shifting between his face and the straining cock poking you in the cheek. You let out a soft, fake sigh, a smirk still on your lips, and you looked up at him.

''Poor Lieutenant Riley. So desperate for my lips around his cock.''

''Yes.'' he bit out. ''Now be a good girl and give me your pretty mouth, please.''

Simon hated the way his voice wavered. How eager it sounded, how needy it sounded.

''Well, since you asked so nicely,” You said and finally, and finally, you took him into your mouth, a soft moan leaving you.

You began to bob your head as your tongue stroked the underside, your eyes still locked on his. ''That’s it, love. Just like that.''

Simon groaned as your tongue worked him. He watched you, his eyes darkened by lust.

''Christ. Your mouth feels so good. This mouth was made for my fuckin cock.''

You hummed, the noise sending pleasant vibrations through him, the sound only encouraging you more. One of your hands started to fondle his balls, your fingers applying a gentle but firm pressure.

Your free hand settled on his stomach, your fingers tracing patterns into his skin.

Simon groaned loudly, his head rolling back briefly. Your hand on his stomach was both soothing and arousing, your touch soft but firm.

He wanted so badly to push your head down and thrust into your warm, wet mouth but he held back, digging his fingers into your scalp.

''That’s it, love. You’re so good. So good for me. Just a little bit more. You can take it, I know you can.''

You kept up your pace, your mouth and tongue working diligently. You could feel the muscles in his cock tense under your touch, could hear his breathing start to become labored.

You could tell he was getting close, could feel his pulse fluttering against your tongue, and you were determined to get him over the edge.

Simon's breaths grew shallower, his body tense and quivering. The hand in your hair tightened his grip firm but not painful.

''Bloody fuckin hell. I’m close, love.'' he groaned. ''I'm gonna come. And you’re going to swallow every drop, understand?''

You looked up at him with hooded eyes and a full mouth, giving him a hum of acknowledgment. Your hand moved from his stomach to his thigh, digging your nails into the skin there, wanting to mark him in any way you could.

Your eyes started to water, feeling your jaw growing tense.

Simon's eyes darkened almost feral. ''You're taking me so well. Yeah, just like that, pretty thing.''

His free hand reached out and caught a tear that slipped free, his thumb tracing the trail it left. He couldn’t deny the way his heart twisted at the sight, how it both aroused him and made him feel guilty.

You whimpered around him as he so gently caught your tears, the look in his eyes and the feel of his hands on your skin making you lightheaded.

''You look beautiful like that.''

''You’re doing so well, love. Just a little bit more, okay?'' he muttered, feeling himself growing closer to the edge.

''So good for me, aren’t you?'' He continued to praise you, and they went straight to your pussy. His praises never failed to make your head feel fuzzy and mushed.

You hummed in response, your body shuddering as the sound vibrated through him. You could feel his cock swelling in your mouth, knowing he was close.

Your nails dug into his skin hard enough that he knew she would leave marks. He wanted you to, wanted something to show how much he was yours.

''So close, love. Just a little more.''

His hips began to jerk involuntarily, seeking that release he needed. His muscles were coiled tight with anticipation and his breaths were little more than pants now.

He was so close, teetering on the edge. His head was reeling, his eyes only half open and his heart rate spiked. And with one last swipe of your tongue, he came, your name leaving his lips like a choked whimper. He trembled with the force of it, his body twitching as waves of pleasure wracked through him.

His cum spurted into your mouth and you didn't waste a second on swallowing, lapping it all up like a starved person.

Simon's hand gripped your hair weakly at first, before gathering a fistful of it. He let his head loll back, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

''Christ,'' He muttered as he felt your tongue clean him gently. He was dazed and reeling, his mind fuzzy with pleasure and his body heavy.

He glanced down at you, his eyes raking over you, taking in her appearance. Your messy hair, your tear-streaked cheeks, your flushed and sweaty skin. You were a beautiful mess and it was a sight he would never forget.

His hand in your hair loosened, before gently scratching at your scalp as he slowly came down from his high. Once his breaths started to even out he gently tugged on your hair, signaling for you to come up.

''Come here, love,'' he said, his voice still gruff and raspy.

His hand in your hair encouraged you up to a standing position and he immediately tugged you into his lap, straddling his thighs.

He cupped the sides of your face with both hands, his thumbs gently wiping away your remaining tears.

He took you in, his eyes roving over your face, noting the tear tracks and his chest ached. You were gorgeous like this, but it also hurt seeing you like this, being the one to make you cry.

''You did so well for me, love,'' he said softly, his tone warm and tender. ''You have no idea how beautiful you are like this, do you?''

You buried your head against his shoulder, a whine leaving your lips at his words as you nuzzled against him. His hand went into her hair, caressing the back of her head. ''My pretty girl, did so good. Such a good girl.''

His hands moved down to your hips, holding them in a firm but gentle grip. ''Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,'' he murmured.

You gave a small nod, still feeling a bit dazed. You felt weak in the knees, your body shaky and sensitive.

''Okay,'' you whispered, your voice soft and a bit hoarse.

Simon gently lifted you up, shifting your weight so he could stand comfortably. He made a mental note to go get some water for your throat later.

He took you into the bathroom, setting you down on the edge of the sink and standing in front of you.

He started to gently clean you up, using a warm, damp cloth to wipe away the tear tracks on your cheeks and the sticky cum on your inner thighs and folds. You hissed at the feeling, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his chest. ''I know baby, shh, I know you're sensitive.'' You only whined once more in response.

He was gentle and meticulous, taking care of you as though you were a fragile doll. His touch was tender and affectionate, his usually cold eyes soft. And you were a fragile doll, to him.

Once he had cleaned her up to his satisfaction, Ghost picked her up and carried her back to the bedroom. ''Let's get ya back to bed.'' He took you over to the bed and gently laid you down, his actions and his eyes tender.

He got in beside you, pulling the covers over them and wrapping an arm around you. He pulled you against him so your back was flush with his chest, his large form surrounding her in a protective embrace.

"You alright, love?" he murmured, gently nuzzling his face into the back of your neck. Simon was feeling surprisingly tender now, the weight of his emotions bearing down on him.

You let out a small hum of contentment, feeling safe and warm in his embrace. Despite the slight soreness between your legs, you were feeling relaxed and at ease.

"Yeah, I'm good," you whispered, snuggling back against him.

''You sure?'' he asked, his voice still gruff but soft. His arm tightened around you, holding you closer. He always got a bit more protective and attentive after sex. It was a habit he couldn’t seem to break, and nor did he want to.

"Yeah, I’m sure," you replied, your eyes closing at the feeling of being so close to him. You reached up and put your hand over his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I feel good. A bit sore, but good,” you admitted a small chuckle leaving you. There would never come a day where you complained about Simon leaving your pussy sore and bruised. Ever.

He hummed, placing a kiss on your shoulder. ''Good,'' he said, a hint of possessiveness in his voice.

You felt a pang of concern for him, knowing how closed off and reserved he could be about his emotions.

''Are you good?'' you asked softly, rolling over in his arms so you were facing him. Simon took a moment to answer, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at you. Finally, he gave a short nod. ''Yeah, love. I'm good,'' he said, his voice gruff and low.

You watched him closely, your eyes searching his. There was something in his expression that made you hesitate, afraid of what his answer might be.

''Did you mean it when you said you loved me?'' You asked, your voice quiet and soft. Your eyes roamed over his face, taking in the faint white scars and the faint freckles on his cheeks and nose.

His eyes darkened momentarily, and he was silent for a moment.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low and gruff. ''Yeah. I meant it.''

The weight of his words hit you, and you felt your heart flutter. You knew he wasn’t one to voice his feelings often, so for him to say that he loved you…it was huge.

''Okay,'' you said, your voice cracking slightly. ''Okay.''

You burrowed into his chest, burying your face in his chest hair. Simon wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. He could feel you trembling slightly, but he didn’t comment on it. He knew you were probably trying to process his words.

He let his hands gently stroke your hair, his movements slow and soothing.

As you clung to him, Simon's mind started to wander. It bothered him, that nagging uncertainty. He needed to hear you say it too.

His chest felt tight with the words, and his heart was racing, but he needed to know if this was real, if you loved him too.

''Bug,'' he murmured, his voice thick. ''Did you mean it when you said you loved me, too?''

You let out a shaky breath, your heart skipping a beat at his question. You had said it in the heat of the moment, driven by passion and pleasure, but now…now it felt huge and overwhelming.

You took a moment to gather her thoughts, her fingers tracing small patterns on his chest.

''Yeah,'' you whispered. ''I meant it.''

Simon felt his chest tighten at your words, a mixture of relief and disbelief washing over him. He had hoped you felt the same, but he hadn’t dared to get his hopes up.

He pulled you closer if that was even possible, holding you almost desperately. ''Christ, bug,'' he muttered, his voice gruff but wavering slightly. ''Say it again. Tell me again.''

He needed to hear you say it to him again, afraid his ears might have betrayed him.

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a warm rush of affection for this gruff and reserved man.

You pulled back slightly so you could look at him, your gaze locked with his. ''I love you,'' you said again, clearly and firmly. ''I love you, Simon.''

And you did, and there was no way you would ever go back on your words. This cold and standoffish man had wormed his way into your heart. Hearing his name from your lips was a sucker punch to the gut. His whole body shivered and his heart stumbled in his chest.

''God,'' he grunted, his voice thick and raw with emotion. ''Bug, say it again, just once more.'' He sounded almost pleading, desperate to hear those three words again.

You could see the raw emotion in his eyes, the pleading and desperate look on his face. You felt your heart clench in her chest, his vulnerability and need for reassurance surprising you.

You reached up, gently cupping the side of his face, your thumb stroking against the faint stubble. You met his gaze firmly, your voice tender and earnest as you said, ''I love you, Simon.''

Simon's eyes fluttered shut as the words left your lips. It was like they were a soothing balm on his roughened soul, helping to ease the ache in his chest. He let out a shaky breath, his arms wrapping around you tightly, holding you against him as though you were his lifeline.

And you were, he knew that deep down.

''Love you, too, so damn much,'' He muttered, the words hoarse and low against your ear.

You let out a soft giggle, feeling giddy and lightheaded from the emotions swirling around you. You snuggled closer into him, enjoying the feeling of being held in his strong arms.

''Is this you…asking me to be your girlfriend?'' You asked, your voice playful and soft.

He pulled back slightly so he could look at you, his gaze intense and serious.

''I'm asking you to be my girlfriend. I'm asking you to be my future wife. And the mother of my children.'' his voice was rough with emotion.

You felt your heart slam against your chest, your breath catching in your throat. Simon had just asked you to be his girlfriend and to be his wife. And on top of that, the mother of children.

You felt overwhelmed and dizzy, your emotions and the words and the implications of what he was asking you crashing over you like a wave. You just stared at him for a moment, stunned into silence, until you finally managed to find your voice. “Yes,” you whispered. ''Yes, to all of it.''

As soon as the word left your lips Simon felt something inside his chest that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Hope.

He let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, his face softening slightly. ''Yeah?'' he asked, his tone still gruff but filled with a hint of excitement.

It touched something sweet and painful inside you, that this big strong man was still so unsure about your feelings for him. You reached up, gently cupping the side of his face.

''Yes,'' you repeated. ''Yes. I want to be your girlfriend. And your wife. And the mother of your children. I want all of it.''

He needed you so close that there was no space between you, that you were one and the same.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, muttering the words against your skin. “That's all I've wanted.''

Comments and reblogs are always appreciated ♡

Divders credit: cafekitsune

[timkontheunsure]

"and if he's only here as a prisoner, what kind of monster does that make me?"

Ok think I've finally worked out what was bugging me with them miscommunicating when Blitz yells.

"Would he want me if he were free?" Stolas' starting premise is if Blitz wasn't ok with the deal, and didn't like him; then he's a monster and an abuser.

If it's was only sex to Blitz, then he's just like Stella.

It's why he gives up, saying he has his answer; when Blitz assumes the crystal must be a prop for more of their deal.

"tethered to someone in such an unfair way". Ok this bit had my mind immediately go to the divorce.

The marriage was arranged by someone must more powerful than Stolas, to someone he'd never choose for himself. An "entire life's been written in stone" in fact; he thinks he's done the same thing to the man he loves.

While it is perfectly reasonable for Blitz to get angry, feeling blindsided and dismissed; asking for a "fucking minute", the next bit reads very differently to both of them.

"You spring this feeling bullshit on me. Are you fucking kidding! *Kicks open the door* Can I get a Fucking minute to think after everything you put me through! You pompous rich Asshole! *Stolas' flinches the same way he does when Stella screams at him.*

"Treat me like one of your little butler imps. You can't just Dismiss me like that. I mean you royal Fucks think you can think you can do this every single time. Like you can just play with our feelings, because we're smaller and not as important. Well I'm Not letting you bitch. *Flinches again* Let's Go!".

Blitz is telling Stolas that he doesn't want to be sent away, and that he wants think about it. His abandonment issues are fully kicked in.

He's trying to force Stolas into a fight, to get him to engage with him. Likely a repeated pattern from his last serious relationship with Voroskia.

Trying to pick a fight, to get to make up sex, to get them back to 'normal'. Because that's how he's been dealing with their "complicated" for a while now. If it's about sex he knows how to deal with what they have.

(Blitz is word perfect on the fight with Verosika after all; so they probably got back together a few times after stealing from her).

Blitz immediately goes to "I can do better", and try give it back; when he thinks Stolas doesn't want to see him anymore.

"you royal Fucks think you can think you can do this every single time."

But that's not what Stolas is hearing right now. Stolas hears is 'your all the same. All royal are as bad as eachother'.

It's very close to Striker explaining how the world works during his torture.

And now he thinks that the only man he's ever loved hates him because what he is.

That's what he meant by "think so of low of me".

And he's not exactly wrong. Fizz even calls Blitz on hating that Stolas is a prince.

And Blitz does say "They're all the fuckin' same". (Blitz isn't wrong for calling out Stolas on how he treats his staff either)...

Then there's the bit that seems fairly contentious. Stolas portaling Blitz out.

Stolas is a domestic abuse survivor, only a couple of weeks out of the hospital, because his wife tried to murder him. He's going freak out at loud voices, angry swearing, and doors being kicked in.

He going assume that this is Blitz getting a few kicks in on the way out; not him genuinely trying to talk through their problems just because of the format.

They are both stumbling over eachothers trauma landmines here.

Neither is wrong.

Not Stolas for walking away, or making the shouty person leave.

Not Blitz for getting scared, upset and feeling abandoned. Thinking Stolas isn't giving him a chance to think it through.

Blitz is going to get that time he wants to think it over. It's not an all or none thing.

He now has his business safe and secured in his own hands, and knows that Stolas likes him too. Those are biggys.

It's entirely up to Blitz what he wants to do now.

[number1jeonginstan]

A/N: Ngl, this was supposed to be a drabble… Anyway, I was listening to 2nd gen K-pop while listening to this, which is so counterintuitive because I was vibing to Gee while writing some of the craziest smut I’ve written in a while. Anyways, hope y’all enjoy <333 Answers 🥟 anon's request!

Minors don't interact, 18+

Pairing: Roomate Perv!Hyunjin x Perv!afab Reader

WC: 3k (oh!)

Warnings: Pervy reader and Jinnie, unprotected sex, m!masturbation, f!masturbation, use of vibrator, call reader names (whore, slut, good girl, ect…)

Your window cracked ever so slightly, allowing you to feel the spring breeze, but not enough to allow bugs and pollen to infiltrate your room. Your clock in the corner of your room was clicking away as the seconds passed. The only thing on your mind was what you were going to order for dinner. Before you could even shout out to your roommate, asking him what he wanted to eat, he barged into your room. The door ricocheted off the stopper causing you to look up. 

“What do you want to eat Hwang?” you asked, turning around so your back was touching your bed. He knew it was your week to order food, but that wasn’t what he was here for. “Just get whatever, I’m not picky”

Before he could even continue, you cut him off, stopping him mid-sentence, his mouth hung open.

“Dude, last time you said that you threw a 45-minute tantrum of how ‘it wasn’t what you wanted’ and made me order a whole separate dish, only for you to eat mine because you were hungry and didn’t want to wait that long.”

“Hey, if you got it right the first time, we wouldn’t have been in that situation” he huffed, jumping on your bed, causing you to lift a bit. 

He was wearing a black hoodie and some gray sweatpants, per usual. His new eyebrow piercing was right in your face as you turned to him. He chuckled, stealing your phone, and looking through the options to eat from. 

Turning around so your breasts were pushed against your bed. They were slightly spilling out from your tanktop, but it was too warm to care. You didn’t understand how your friend wasn’t burning up in his outfit, but you didn’t care enough to ask. 

“So, what are we getting to eat” you asked, trying to take your phone back from his grasp, but he stopped you. 

Damn him and his weirdly long fingers that no man should have. “I was thinking, beer and chicken? It’s simple enough and we still have some cans left over so I won’t drain your bank account” he grinned. 

You simply nodded, telling him to order it while you went to the bathroom. What you didn’t know was that wasn’t all Hyunjin did. A couple of weeks ago, when he asked to borrow your phone to send pictures of himself from a party the two of you attended with the rest of your friends, he saw pictures you took of yourself, in the cutest set he’s ever seen. 

He knows that he constantly sees you in your short clothes all the time, but something about you wearing a pink lacy set had him weak in his knees. He came twice just thinking about it, the image burned into the back of his retinas. 

He needed to see it again, so while you were doing your nighttime skincare routine, he went through your phone trying to find the photo. What he didn’t expect was there to be multiple angles and even multiple sets. He felt his cock harden in his pants, trying not to groan at the sight of you in barely anything. 

He quickly took out his phone from his hoodie pocket, making sure that you weren’t out yet, and airdropped himself the photos, so there wasn’t any evidence of what he was doing. 

He put his phone back in his pocket and exited out of your photos app just in time. You came out of the bathroom, your hair pushed back with a bunny hair band, whilst tossing one to him. “Come on, you know the drill” you giggled as he took off his hoodie, revealing his toned stomach and navel piercing.

He had gotten it with his eyebrow piercing after Jisung had dared him to. You were there for the entire thing, not expecting him to actually go through with it, but for some reason he did. It looked good though, so you weren’t going to complain. 

He eventually put on the headband, after a minute of his dramatic sighs and protests. You knew he could never say no to you. You giggled at him, realizing how silly you both looked, but not complaining. 

You pulled at him, trying to drag him off your bed so the two of you could watch a movie in the comfort of your living room. 

The layout of your apartment was a bit off. Your rooms were right next to each other, and you both had your own bathrooms and walk-in closet. Which was nice, especially due to how much money the two of you spent on clothes. 

Your living room was much smaller than others, connecting to your kitchen, but the two of you didn’t complain. It was homey and perfect for the two of you, and for the rest of your friends whenever they came over for your week’s movie night. 

You both finally made it to the living room after Jinnie complained that “your bed is too comfortable” and “How am I supposed to leave if Sergent Bingo doesn’t want me to?” 

You giggled at that, knowing how much he loved the stuffed animal that lived on your bed that he had won for you at the fair the first year of living together. 

“I think he will live, plus we can bring him with us if it means so much to you!” 

He just sighed as he got up, wrapping his arms around the stuffed bear and muttering about how Bingo didn’t appreciate being moved from his habitat. 

“You are such a big baby” you giggled, sitting on the couch next to him, wrapping a blanket around your body as you attempted to find something for the two of you to watch. 

“Am not” 

“Are too”  

Before he could rebuttal, the doorbell rang, causing you both to turn your heads. “Foods here” You got up, throwing the blanket at his face, laughing at his shocked expression. 

You got the food from the delivery man, thanking him for walking up all the steps to your apartment. “What did you order again?” you yelled from the kitchen, getting paper plates and beer cans from the fridge. 

“I got those cheese balls that you always fawn over, then just original and galbi because we both like that” 

You got back to your seat, cracking open one of the cans of beer as the two of you began to watch a K-drama that Seungmin had recommended, Move To Heaven.

Two episodes in, and the two of you were sobbing, the food was gone, and the beers that were previously in your hands were splayed across the table. 

“I can’t believe that happened to him, what did he do to deserve this?” you sobbed, hugged Hyunjin who was also on the verge of tears. 

“I mean, who kills them off the first episode, like he did not need that happening to him” he said, hugging you back. 

“I think that’s enough for today,” you said, wiping the tears off your face as you turned off the TV. Hyunjin threw away all the boxes and plates as you collected the blankets, folding them and putting them away in the storage closet next to the living room. 

“Good night, sleep tight!” you said to Hyunjin as he began walking to his room. He bid you a good night as well, laughing at the way you were holding Sergent Bingo above your head as you entered your room. 

Little did either of you know that you were in fact not sleeping tight.

You had taken out the vibrator your friend had gifted to you for your birthday, making sure it was fully charged before pressing it against your clit. It was small, but it did the job perfectly, always leaving you satisfied. 

You usually never got off when Hyunjin was home, but you had been so pent up for the last month, that you just had to do something about it. You couldn’t wait any longer, you removed your shorts and underwear in one go and began to tease your slit. 

You could feel the cool air hitting your legs and cunt, the small hairs on your legs sticking up at the sensation, but you ignored it, the only thing on your mind being Hyunjin. 

The way he looked today, the way he smelt. You would think a grown man wearing a bunny headband couldn’t be hot, but you were wrong. The way he licked his fingers, trying to get the sauce off them, all you could imagine if that was how he would eat you out.

Would he suck on your clit like he did his fingers, how would they feel inside you? You thought back to his grey sweatpants, the way you could see the imprint of his dick against them, causing you to rub your thighs in front of him. You prayed that he didn’t see you, but if he did would he help you?

You could feel yourself getting wetter at every passing moment, your finger rubbing against your clit. It wasn’t enough though, you needed more stimulation or else you wouldn’t be able to get anywhere. 

You turned on your vibrator, allowing the low hum of it to overtake your room. You began to slowly press it against your clit, low moans escaping your lips as you press it harder onto yourself. You tried to keep quiet, but it felt so fucking good, that you didn’t notice the moans escaping your lips. 

But Hyunjin noticed, he could hear each moan escaping your lips. He was devouring each one like it was a hymn. He could feel his cock getting harder, straining against his boxers and sweats, it isn’t weird that he’s hearing you right?

If he just happens to jerk off right now, it wouldn’t be weird, right? He just happened to feel the need to get off at the same time as you. It wasn’t your moans that were making him this hard. 

That’s what he kept telling himself as he pulled his cock out of his boxers and sweats. He began to languidly stroke his cock to the sounds of your moans, using the pre-cum leaking from his tip as lube. 

He slowly pulled out his phone, looking at the pictures that he had airdropped himself earlier. Were you wearing the set you had in the picture, were you lying down like this, all pretty with your legs spread out just for him? 

Would you be able to take his cock, or would you whine that it’s too much, how your tight little cunt couldn’t take it? 

His body shivered as he could feel himself getting closer, but it all stopped when he heard another broken moan escape your lips.

“Jinnie-ah” 

He couldn’t believe it, you weren’t moaning his name. It was just his imagination until he heard it again. The whimper that escaped your lips as you moaned out his name. 

“Hyunjin, fuckkk” 

His body went rigid, he quickly got up, dressed himself, and pressed his ear against your shared wall. He needed to hear you say his name again. He had to make sure it was his name you were moaning. 

You couldn’t cum, it wasn’t enough, no matter how much you tried. You were so pent up, you needed to cum, but you just couldn’t, so you began crying. Tears streamed down your face as you tried to fuck yourself with your fingers as your vibrator was still attacking your clit, but it wasn’t enough. 

That was til you heard your door creak open, there you saw Hyunjin. You tried to cover your body as fast as you could, but he didn’t let you, ripping your blanket off your body, leaving you in just your tank top. 

“Such a fucking whore, moaning my name. You were just begging for me to hear you, right baby? Poor little thing can’t cum by herself, she needs my fingers, doesn’t she?”  

You just nodded, no longer feeling ashamed, feeling the need to cum. “It’s okay baby, I’m here to help. Sometimes whores can’t get off by themselves, that’s why you need me”

He got on top of you, his knees pressed into your bed, trapping your thighs between them. He kissed your lips, nibbling at your bottom lip before moving his lips down to your neck, sucking at your skin. 

“Who do you need baby?” he asked, removing his lips from your neck, running his finger against your slit, feeling how wet you were.

“Need you” you whined underneath him as his finger pressed against your clit. “Then why were you using this instead of coming to me?” he asked, holding up your vibrator. 

“Is this better than me?” he asked, pressing his finger against your clit, causing you to moan. “Come on baby, you can’t be this dumb?” He asked you again, slapping your face slightly, sticking his thumb in your mouth, causing you to suck. 

“It’s okay, I can make you cum like the whore you are” he chuckled before taking his finger out of your mouth and began to finger your hole. “Fuck you are so tight” 

“Mhm, only for you Jinnie” you moaned as he began to thrust his fingers faster into you, adding another one. Your walls were clenching around him. “Look at you, so close to cumming. Can’t believe you were using this flimsy little thing. Should we see if it really works?” 

Before you could even comprehend what was going on, he turned on your vibrator, pressing it against your clit. 

“FUCK!” you moaned, you felt like you were so close to cumming, it only took Hyunjin another curl of his fingers in your cunt to make you cum around his fingers. Your body was convulsing around him, your thighs enclasping his hands. 

“Ah ah, you are going to take my cock baby. Why do I think I prepped you? Moaning my name like the fucking slut you are. You are the one who caused this” he whispered into your ear while dragging your hand to his pants, allowing you to feel how hard his cock was for you.

He flipped you around while pulling down his own boxers and sweats, throwing them somewhere in your room. You took a look behind you to see his cock, and your jaw dropped. He was huge in length, not as much in girth, but his cock was so pretty. 

His tip was pink and leaking precum while he had multiple veins running alongside his cock. “How is that going to fit?” you whimpered, “Don’t worry, I’ll make it fit baby.” 

He slapped his cock on your ass before sliding the tip along your slit, causing you to moan. He lifted you by your hair, wrapping it around his hand, causing you to cry at the sharp sting. “Look at my cock baby, fuck, have never felt this fucking hard in my life. You are gonna make me feel good aren’t you baby? Going to take my cock like the good girl you are” 

“Yes, gonna take your cock, gonna take it so well” you whimpered as he pushed the tip inside of you. 

“Feels so good” you moaned as he let go of your hair, your head loling on the side of your pillow. 

“Fuck baby, barely have the tip in and you are so fucking tight. Can’t wait til I make you mine” 

He slowly began to thrust his cock into you, adding an inch at a time. But as your walls clenched around him, he lost all of his patience, thrusting his cock deep inside of you.  

He slowly took his cock out of you, leaving only the tip in, only to thrust back into you with full force. 

“You planned this didn’t you?” he asked, as he continued to pound into you. Your face was deep in your pillows, your voice muffled, so he yanked at your hair, causing you to moan.

“Speak when you are spoken you slut” he slapped your ass, causing you to moan. “You planned this didn’t you, the photos of you in your camera roll. You moaning my name so loud the entire floor could you” 

“What if I did?” you said giggling. This only enraged him more, causing him to thrust into you faster. Your hair was still in his hand, your back arched against his chest.  “Such a fucking whore, making me think I was a pervert when you orchestrated everything.” 

“Just wanted you, are you that mad at me” you whimpered as he took one of his hands to rub your clit. 

“I could never be mad at you baby, you know that” he kissed your neck before letting your hair go, your face falling back into the pillows. He lifted your hips a bit higher, causing you to scream out his name, which was fortunately muffled by the pillows underneath you. 

“I can feel you baby,” he said, feeling the way your walls were clamping his cock “cum for me baby, cum on my cock and take my cum like you’ve always wanted to” he said, kissing your back. 

That was all you needed to cum on his cock, he used one of his hands to muffle your screams, not wanting to wake everyone up. It didn’t end there though, he continued to rut into you, chasing his own high. 

“Please Jinnie, too much can’t take it anymore” you whimpered underneath him, but that didn’t stop him. He needed to cum, he needed to mark you as his. “Fuck baby, you can take it, just a little more there we go” 

He came with a moan, filling you up with cum and making you squirm underneath him. He kissed your lips before falling next to you, pushing the hair out of your face.

“I hope that was okay,” he said, looking at you a bit ashamed. 

“Okay? That was amazing, I think that’s the hardest I’ve ever cum in my life” you said, kissing his lips. “The only thing I think is not okay is Sergent Bingo, his poor innocent eyes” which caused you both you laugh. You both wrapped your arms around one another, falling asleep in each other’s embrace.

[alastwhorez]

Alastor with a mommy kink

♡ Pairing: Human!Alastor x MILF!Reader

♡ Summary: Alastor can't help but want his new neighbor

♡ warnings: 18+, MDNI, breeding kink, mommy kink, pet names, oral, p in v, unprotected sex, Alastor is 23, reading is in late 20s early 30s, Alastor calls reader Ma. Age gap, I think that's it. If I missed anything, please let me know.

♡an: not proofread, probably spelling errors, if you don't like mommy kinks or Al calling reader Ma, or Age gap please do not read.

Thinking about early 20s human Alastor with a mommy kink..

You just moved next door with your kids right beside Alastor and his mama.

Alastor helped you move in observing that there was no man with you, he offered to help which you graciously accepted. His mama invited you and the kids over for dinner that evening saying “it's so nice to have children around again now that Al is all grown up” as she pinches the taller male's cheek. Alastor rolled his eyes at his mom's actions trying to cover up the blush rising to his cheeks. He may be “all grown up” as she says but he is still a mama's boy and always will be.

After dinner you help clear the table and do dishes with Alastor as his mama plays with the children in the living room. You fall into a comfortable silence before Al breaks it “so where's your husband?” You look at him and smile before telling him you don't have one. Al hides his smirk from you. in all honesty he didn't offer to help you trying to be neighborly or a gentleman. He offered because of the heat he felt seeing you mother your kids.

Over the next few weeks Al is always there. He is there when you need help putting something together, someone to go to the grocery store with and even when you need someone to kill the pesky little bugs when you are too scared. His mama started babysitting for you as you wanted to find a job. Living Off of you savings wasn't going to last forever. And Al was there for all of it.

Over the weeks Al noticed the heat he would feel intensifies everytime he sees you mothering your kids but what really got him was when he was over for lunch and you wiped his mouth with your thumb to clean a crumb off his lip. He couldn't deny the tightening in his pants at you doing such motherly things for him. It didn't help that you also wore some frisky outfits for your time and that you weren't that much older than him, in your late twenties to early thirties at most.

The twenty three year old quickly became very obsessive and possessive over you. Scaring away suitors. Always telling you, you don't need a boyfriend, you have him and he is right across the lawn. All you have to do is open a window or stand on your porch and yell and he will be there.

Over the weeks of Alastor being around you couldn't deny your attraction to him. He was a very attractive man, one several women in town are always throwing themselves at but you never see him with a woman. He tells you he has his eyes on someone he just doesn't know how they feel yet. That brings a ting of pain to your heart but you smile at the younger male and tell him anyone would be lucky to have him pinning over them.

looking back you wonder how you got in the situation you are in now. Bent over your kitchen table, dress flipped up over your plush ass, and panties down around your ankles as Alastor is on his knees licking and sucking on any flesh his mouth can find. He parts your folds with his tongue as he licks up you. His hands on your ass spreading you open for him. You try to hold back moans forgetting you don't have to be quiet. His mama has the kids. He was only supposed to be over here for a quick visit. He was dropping off leftovers his mama made. But they were quickly forgotten. Left on the counter.

“Fuck ma, you taste so good” He moans against your cunt. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan at the vibration of his voice. Oh god his voice is another thing about him that attracted you to the younger man. His deep raspy voice with his cute little accent. It could make you wet just hearing him talk, and it has.

you yelp as Alastor lands a slap on your ass then squeeze and massage the red spot. His tongue dips in your entrance As his thumb finds your bundle of nerves and starts to rub. Your legs are shaking, thank fuck your on the table. You Turn around trying to see him. Wanting to see him between your legs. He chuckles and smirks against you, feeling you wiggle. Trying to maneuver your body just try so his mouth stays attached to you.

You scream out his name as he speeds up his thumb and quickens his thrust with his tongue. He's moaning against you as he bites, licks, and sucks everywhere he can reach. You're a moaning mess on your table. You can feel that familiar tingle before it snaps and your jerking,moaning, and screaming “Oh Al, baby” eyes rolling back and back arching. He moans as your juices coat his tongue, swallowing it down like it's his last meal.

You're laying on the table trying to catch your breath when he pulls away and stands to his full height. You hear him undo his belt and unzip his pants. You bite your lip in anticipation. “g-gotta feel you around me ma”

Ma, he started calling you that a week after you met.

You feel him slide himself between your folds, wetting himself in your juices before he slowly slides on, stretching you perfectly. You both moan out at the feeling. He starts slow and shallow before getting confidence and speeding up. He's gripping your hips so hard you know they'll bruise but fuck does it feel good to finally have his hands on you. He fucks you from behind until your about to finish when he pulls out. “No nononono!” You whine right before he flips you onto your back and pulls the dress off the rest of the way.

“You little minx” He says when he sees you weren't wearing a bra. You bite your lip looking up at him. His hands find your thighs and push them apart as he stands between your legs pushing himself back into you.

You grip his shoulders then let your hands slide down to his back when he speeds up, giving you an extra hard thrust. “Feels so good,ma” He whines into your shoulder. “Wanted you for so long”

“M-me too Ala-STOR” you moan when he hits that spot that makes your toes curl. He pulls away from your shoulder and slams his lips onto your, the kiss is hungry, feral. It's all teeth and tongue. You can taste yourself on his lips pulling a moan from you.

He pushed your back onto the table as he lays over you and his thumbs finds your clip. Only a couple of thrust later and your cumming all over his cock, begging him your not exactly sure what your begging for pleas fall from your lips

“Fuck, fuck ,FUCK” He says as he puts his face in your shoulder biting and licking your neck.

“Gotta-gotta cum in you ma, make you a mommy again”

“Yes! Yes Al” you beg as you feel another orgasm approaching.

Alastor grabs your tits, “gotta see these Full and round” He says before sucking on into his mouth. Three more thrust is all it takes before he is shooting Ropes of cum into your heat, hips stuttering, his eyes rolling back, and moans falling from his lips. You cum for the nth time seeing Alastor so blissed out,tightening around his cock, milking him for everything he is worth.

You both lay there for several minutes catching your breath. He pulls out a few seconds later but replaces his cock with his fingers pulling a moan from you. “Gotta make sure nothing goes to waste” He says right before fixing his glasses that are now all fogged up. He smiles down at you, helping you up before picking you up bridal style and carrying you to your bathroom.

He runs you a bath, both of you sitting in It, your back against his chest. He is peppering kisses all over your shoulder. He stays with you till nightfall when his mama yells for him to come home and that your kids are on their way back over.

He kisses your lips one more time after your kids run through the door.

“Same time tomorrow, ma?” He says, smirking down at you and then winking before heading back to his mama.

[colourstreakgryffin]

Oh my gosh! HELLOO!

Anywho~

I had a request for Alastor with a reader who’s contract with Valentino just ended and Angel brings them to the hotel to help them get on their feet, they have lots of trauma from what the endured, maybe they stay close to Alastor because he’s very much a gentleman and never treats them like Val did?

Thank you!!

Oooh! I like this one a lot! We got a second Angel but unlike Angel, we’re probably better and less snarky and bitchy. Sorry, Angel. Anyway! Idk if it’s meant to be romantic or not so I am gonna guess—

Alastor- Redemption Path

Alastor can’t help but feel sorry and feel pity for you. You’re just like Angel but you aren’t as bad as Angel. A ex-pornstar that has finally been free from the pimp Overlord, Valentino and your dear friend Angel Dust is so relieved that you’re safe from him, now, he’ll take even more measures to make sure you’ll do better than him

Bringing you to the Hazbin Hotel, Angel Dust introduced you to the Hotel Staff. Hoping they could help get you back into Hell more stably. Out of Charlie feeling immense sorry for your sexual abuse trauma, Vaggie considering to sign you up for counselling and Angel Dust barking at Husk to be nicer to you. Alastor is the one who is the most interested in you

Alastor is the one who escorted you around the Hotel. He is the only one who treated you so perfectly, he is a true sweet gentleman and he is doing much for you that it’s unbelievable. He doesn’t want anything from you? How is that possible

Throughout the days since you first checked in as a client, Alastor notices the way you follow him around and he finds it adorable. You’re such a lost lonely little puppy needing somewhere to feel safer and he doesn’t mind playing that little safety spot for you. It’s quite amusing

“Oh. My dear, is something bugging you?” Alastor asked curiously as he finally turns around to face the cute eager shorter sinner that has been clinging onto him and following him around ever since he was polite and ‘respectful’ to them. Treating them like a person and not like an object. Unlike the first and only Overlord they knew at the time, he doesn’t even notice their curvy attractive body or make creepy sexual remarks in the slightest

He just compliments the cozy colourful classy outfits they’d wear, calling each and every one ‘adorable’. He finds you adorable as a whole and he is entertained that you’re so enamoured by his kindness, that you act like a baby fawn following his mother around

The sinner that has been following him around all day, takes a few seconds to even blink. You’re shyer around Alastor since he actually gives you a voice and a say-so, something you’re unfamiliar with. Having that… you never did back with Valentino and it’s almost overwhelming that such a friendly treatment is addictive to have, the way he handles you with delicacy. He isn’t usually a man to sympathise with an awful situation but for some reason, he sympathised with you in his own special little way. You’re thankful that he is even more polite and caring than anybody you’ve ever met, even Angel!

“Oh. My, you’re shivering. Are you cold?” You didn’t actually answer Alastor with words but instead with actions, approaching him and shyly reaching out for a handhold but you didn’t actually touch him, reminding yourself of his no touching clause. You hoped he’d let you slide this once. You don’t really have anybody to talk to after you were jolted awake from night terrors over what that awful squeaking sex-obsessed freak of a moth did to you throughout your contract with him

Angel is there as a friend but he’s busy still suffering under Valentino’s maniac rule right now, you don’t want to bother any of the staff nor Charlie about your problems whilst they are busy. Sooooo

You figured your emotional support, the one who has been very patient and understanding with you. He hasn’t let you down once just of yet

Alastor willingly takes your hand when he recognises your reach out attempt and brings you up to his side in a lone but strong tug. Not minding the sweater you wore being your only coverage for your bottom half. Just a cute off-the-shoulder sweater and thigh highs. Whilst your style mirrored Angel’s in an odd way, you didn’t gross the Radio Demon out like the current top pornstar did. You’re more innocent, more sophisticated

You’re nothing like Angel, despite escaping from the same ugly world as that spider sinner is still trapped in. You’re a recovering traumatised, overexploited pornstar in need of help to gain a new life within Hell and Alastor actually likes the idea of playing that knight in shining armour you clearly view him as. He can’t tell why but he likes it

Leading you down the empty, slightly dark hallway with one arm around your body to keep you close, pressing your face against the side edge of his broad chest and the other slightly stylishly twirling his signature staff-like microphone cane, the Radio Host plans to take care of you in other ways then just hand you some blankets and set you out to your own Hotel room. He’d prefer to personally put you to sleep and the process would be begin with a picture show, a talk and a darker warmer room

You didn’t know why but your face was beet red, your heart was pounding in your chest and your eyes sparkled as you tilted your slightly fuzzy head up to look at Alastor. In, what felt like a blink, his crimson red eyes flashed a sense of genuine affection before returning to the usual half-emotionless bloody haze as the radio effect on his rather mighty voice kicks in with the overlap of both sincerely caring and classic semi-mocking Alastor style caring

It doesn’t help that you swear you can feel his heartbeat grow faster…

Is Alastor feeling the same you are?!

“Come now, darling. You’re clearly having bad sleeping patterns. How about me and you watch that picture show you’ve been holding off? Yes. Yes, I know. I don’t like your technology but I wouldn’t be a help provider if I didn’t provide you help, now would I?”

[fangswbenefits]

Sharing is Caring (II)

Summary: Things get complicated, but you find yourself sharing a bed with Miguel… once again. Too bad someone else is in the room.

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

18+. Sharing one bed. Semi-public. Blue balls. Sexual tension. Mutual masturbation. Creampie. Implied cockwarming.

* ˚ ✦ Part 1. (you don’t have to read it to enjoy this one, though)

You were fucked.

Extremely fucked.

Not only had the anomaly managed to slip through your fingers, effectively disabling the trackers scattered around, but you were also fucked, because now you were left to deal with the aftermath of a very intimate encounter with Miguel.

It was nearly five in the morning and the night was nowhere near being done. Fortunately, it had stopped raining, which helped with visibility and grip, and having Lyla assist you as in replacing the faulty sensors was also very much welcome.

“Sensor 24 up and running,” the AI’s sing-song voice announced, as the device bleeped green.

You leapt over the railing, shooting a string of web to the side of the hotel, so you could swing through the window.

As you landed with a clumsy thump, you noticed Miguel had already gotten back from his reconnaissance check.

He looked positively… pissed off.

Great.

“Lyla, call her,” her grumbled, checking his watch.

“Already did,” she announced, appearing by his shoulder. “Want me to run a diagnostics of the perimeter once again?”

“Do it in five minute intervals,” he said flatly. “The anomaly must be nearby.”

You removed your mask and considered sitting on the bed, but were soon reminded that not even thirty minutes ago, you were getting fucked by Miguel.

A shudder ran through your body.

“You okay?” he asked, his narrowed eyes on you.

You shrugged. “Sure.”

The problem with having impromptu sex was that now you were left to deal with the soreness between your legs, and the frustration of an orgasm that never came to be.

Did Miguel feel the same way?

Your eyes roamed his body, and you find yourself glaring at his-

“Hey! I need you to focus,” Miguel said with a snap of his fingers. “There’s still a chance we deal with it tonight.”

You were about to snap back when a loud distorted buzz filled the room, swirls of flashing lights nearly blinding you, as the inter-dimensional portal expanded quickly in pulsating waves.

Through came Jessica Drew, followed closely by Peter B. Parker.

Fuck.

“What are you doing here?” Miguel growled, pointing at Peter.

“What?” he asked, eyes widening in confusion.

Miguel wasn’t known to be a very patient man, and you reckoned his patience was now hanging by a thread. “I called for Jess. Not you.”

Jess let out an exasperated sigh. “Easy, Miguel. We were both on the same mission.”

He straightened up, but crossed his arms. “Right.”

“Care to explain why I had to leave to be here?” she went on, resting on hand on her swollen belly. “How did you lose track of the anomaly?”

He exchanged a brief look with you. “The sensors didn’t alert us in time.”

That was true.

“Weren’t you supposed to be monitoring, regardless?”

“We dozed off,” you chimed in. “Momentarily! Just for a while.”

Not really true…

Jess glanced at you, suspicion written all over face.

“Sleeping on the job,” she then chuckled, eyeing Miguel deviously. “Didn’t think you’d ever do that, Miguel.”

He narrowed his eyes menacingly. “We weren’t sleeping. We were just resting our eyes for a moment.”

A blatant lie.

“What’s that on your neck?” Peter suddenly asked with a worried look on his face.

Oh….

You let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the tender hickey spot. “Bug bite.”

“Allergic reaction,” Miguel blurted out at the same time.

Fuck.

You shot him a murderous look.

Jessica arched an eyebrow. “Which one is it?”

“An allergic reaction to a bug bite,” Miguel said with a shrug, growing visibly annoyed.

A wave of relief washed over you momentarily. That seemed plausible enough.

But…

“Oh, really?” she asked with a knowing smile. “What bug? A spid-”

But Miguel was already cutting her off. “We don’t have time for this!”

Peter walked to you, craning your neck to the side. “You should have it checked. It looks serious.”

Ah, Peter… ever the innocent.

“Jess, you stay with us,” Miguel says, dragging Peter away from you at once. “We need an extra pair of eyes.”

She frowned. “No. Peter stays. I need to get some sleep,” she said, patting her belly.

“No!” Miguel growled.

“Actually, I was thinking of heading back home,” Peter drawled out, rubbing the back of his head. “Mayday should be waking up soon.”

“And I’m pregnant,” Jess shot, holding her chin high.

Peter swallowed and fell silent. The deal was sealed.

“Lyla, any updates?”

The hologram popped up instantly. “No, boss.”

Jess glanced over at you one last time, before stepping into the portal once again. “You should really have that checked. Whatever bug did that seems… vicious,” she then slipped into the vortex, which vanished behind her.

You momentarily froze in place, feeling the dread of realisation hit you like a ton of bricks.

She knew.

“I’ll be right back,” Peter drawled out with a yawn and a stretch, disappearing into the bathroom.

The moment you heard rhe door click shut, you turned to Miguel.

“An allergic reaction to a bug bite?” you hissed.

He scowled deeply. “Because simply saying bug bite sounded ridiculous.”

“She didn’t believe it, regardless.”

Miguel was suddenly towering over you, his face twisted in annoyance. “Then why does it matter?”

“Because… you gave me a visible hickey!”

It was a silly thing to get upset about. There were worse things in life than having Miguel O’Hara marking you as a result of built up sexual tension.

But you didn’t want to give in.

“Got carried away,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah…”

He cleared his throat. “But I have a problem.”

You looked up at him. “What problem?”

“Well…” he said, glancing at the bathroom door.

“Peter?”

“No!”

You clicked your tongue. “Then what?”

His placed both hands on his hips and glanced down.

Your eyes followed suit.

Oh.

Oh.

“What? Why are you… what?” you stuttered in disbelief at the sight of the outline of his hardened cock.

“Biology, remember?” he said through gritted teeth. “It’s not going away.”

You somehow managed to tear your eyes from the impressive bulge. “Go jerk off, then!”

He had you walk back until you hit the wall behind. “It won’t go away.”

Had you just given Miguel blue balls?

“How’s that my problem?” you huffed, staring intensely into his crimson eyes.

“This is all your fault.”

“Oh, really? I thought we were blaming Biology.”

Before Miguel could retort, the sudden squeak of a door being swung open, had you slipped past him.

Peter emerged, eyeing you both. “Oh, I see what this is.”

Miguel had to move strategically in order to hide his raging boner from him. “What do you mean?”

“I know what’s up with you two,” Peter said, with a playful grin. “All the whispering and whatnot.”

Great.

Were you two that transparent?

“Huh…”

Miguel had pursed his lips.

Peter paced closer to you, eyeing you with a knowing smile. “You’re deciding on Jessica’s birthday present, right?”

You blinked a few times and heard Miguel exhale nearby.

“Right? I knew it!” he threw his arms in the air as if he’d just won the lottery.

In truth, you were simply baffled at how innocent Peter could be. The immediate weight that was lifted off your shoulders was enough to draw a laugh from you.

“Sure!”

“Of course, Peter,” Miguel said, voice dripping with his trademark sarcasm. “We went on this mission, so we could go through birthday checklists.”

A layer of pride settled on Peter’s face. “Ah! You’re growing soft, Miguel.”

You winced at his poor choice of words.

“But fear not!” he said as if he was about to fight off the anomaly himself. “We’ll take turns watching. You two can get some rest and properly plan it out,” he then pinched his thumb and index finger together and dragged them across his lips. “Your secret is safe with me.”

Miguel didn’t budge at first, but you were all too grateful to stop this insane conversation altogether.

“Thanks, Peter.”

“Of course,” he smiled widely, pacing to the open hotel window, leaping into the the sky night.

You shot Miguel one last look before slipping inside into the comfort of the bedsheets, welcoming the softness.

But you were sorely mistaken if you thought Miguel wouldn’t have followed you.

Your heart skipped a beat. Or two.

You had turned to face the wall, hoping he’d take the hint, and leave you be.

But once you felt his erection pressing into your ass, you knew you were a goner.

There was something extremely empowering about having a man like Miguel be so needy and desperate.

He scooted closer until his breath fanned your ear. “Can you just…”

You scoffed, pride swelling inside you. “Go ask Biology to jerk you off.”

“Whawt?”

“You keep blaming it, so…”

Silence fell between you two.

His hand then came to grip your hip. “It’s you.”

“I didn’t catch that,” you said, feeling his thumb rubbing gently, as he pushed the top half of your suit increasingly higher.

He rolled his hips into you, letting out a shaky moan in your ear that had your skin raise with goosebumps.

You flipped onto your other side to fully face him, and Miguel immediately took your lips with his, kissing you hungrily.

His hand dragged the fabric all the way up until he managed to expose one breast, breaking the kiss only to move down to suck on your hardened nipple.

The thought that he might be too much vaguely crossed your mind. For the second time that night you were meeting a side of Miguel that you had never seen before.

A side you much preferred.

Your fingers dragged through his hair, silently praising him.

In no time, you watched his digital suit disintegrate, giving you full access to the beautifully sculped body underneath.

He gripped your wrist and lowered it until your fingers grazed his cock. Knowing fully well what he craved, you wrapped them around it, earning an immediate jerk of his hips.

“Miguel…” you moaned, letting him freely fuck your hand, spilling more and more precum.

He released your nipple and had his forehead resting on your shoulder, his hand on top of your, making sure you squeezed tighter and tighter.

It didn’t take long for your hand to be soaked with precum, making it easier for him to slide up and down.

You squeezed involuntarily and a gush of wetness spilled into your underwear, your body yearning for him to fill you up with his cock.

He moved his hips deliciously, and you focused on taking in the wet sounds that filled the room as well as his breathless grunts.

But such bliss was short-lived as you heard Peter bolting into the room with a swish of his web.

Well…

Miguel immediately stilled, letting go of your hand.

You didn’t let go of his cock, instead peeking over his shoulder only to find Peter rolling out a sleeping bag on the floor.

He then turned to face you, and your head immediately slumped against the pillow, eyes on Miguel’s.

“Are you okay?”

“What?”

Peter’s voice was but a whisper. “Your heart rate is accelerated.”

Ah… spider senses.

“Yeah… I’m just a bit tense… it’s fine,” you muttered, feeling Miguel’s cock twitch in your hand. “Go get some rest. I’ll take over.”

“Oh! Thank you,” he beamed. “Mayday has been giving us terrible nights, and I could use a few minutes.”

You watched as he fluffed out his pillow before settling down on his back with a yawn.

Miguel’s breathing has steadied momentarily and you eventually let go of him.

But he quickly got a hold of your wrist.

The implication of that action wasn’t exactly subtle and you widened your eyes.

“No,” you mouthed right away.

His crimson eyes had darkened and you spotted his fangs from behind his lips.

You shook your head vehemently.

This was a bad idea.

But as soon as Peter’s snores tore through the room, you felt your heart clench.

“Peter is right there… he will hear it!”

He pressed an urgent kiss to your forehead. “We’ll be quiet. I’ll help you be quiet,” he promised, pressing his cock further into your already soaked crotch.

Your eyes fluttered shut, and just as you were about to let out a low whimper, you felt his hand cover your mouth, effectively reigning it in.

“Quiet.”

The other travelled down painfully slowly, palm grazing your exposed breast briefly, before resting just above the waistline of your suit.

“You have to be quiet,” he warned in a barely audible tone.

You nodded and he lifted his hand from your lips.

“We shouldn’t…” you muttered under your breath.

But your words were not matching your actions, as you dragged your hand covered in precum across his hard chest, taking your time to gently rub his nipple with your thumb.

You thought Miguel had stopped breathing altogether, but soon realised he was merely attempting to hold back a moan.

His fingers quickly slipped past the the waistline, finding your clit and drawing small circles. You had to bite your lip hard to suppress a whimper, rolling your hips into him.

You found his cock again, gripping it desperately and giving him a few pumps that matched the tempo of his strokes.

The thrill of indulging in such experience even when someome else was in the room, and with the increased chances of being caught, merely added to the pleasure you were already feeling.

“You’re doing good,” Miguel praised you through a shaky breath. “So good…”

Impatience took over and you wiggled out of your bottom half of the suit, allowing you to grant him betterr acces, as hou parted your legs.

He immediately seized it and slipped one finger inside.

You had to clasp your hand over your mouth to keep from groaning, eyes fluttering shut.

His breath was on your ear again. “Can you take one more?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice. A second finger immediately joined the first one, slinding inside effortlessly.

Feeling that you had managed to keep yourself under control, you dropped the hand covering your lips to grip his cock.

“And another one?”

You shook your head, fearing that would be too much. He pressed a kiss to your neck with a sigh, as he fucked your hand in a slow rhythm.

The knots of pleasure in your lower abdomen let you know that you were headed towards the precipice. You kept on riding his fingers relentlessly, your mind suddenly hazy from the feeling of being so full of him already.

“I’m close…” he mouthed, his breath shaky and cock twitching.

He had bared his fangs, and you thought you’d combust on the spot, realising he was truly overwhelmed with pleasure.

Finding your voice again, you whispered sensually, “Where do you want to cum?”

His eyed widened, pupils fully blown.

Your hips faltered briefly, grazing your clit across the palm of his hand. “Inside?”

He pressed his eyes shut and dug his fangs into his lower lip. “I won’t last.”

“I know,” you moaned, dragging thumb across his tip, feeling more droplets of warm precum coating your skin.

Peter suddenly let out a loud snore that made you jolt.

“Are you close?” Miguel asked.

“I’ll be with you inside me.”

You shifted on the mattress, and he removed his fingers from you at once, a wet sound filling the room.

Your body shuddered from the loss, but you soon felt his tip proding your entrance.

Before you could take another breath, he jerked his hips and slipped past your fold effortlessly.

His hand was on your mouth again, and this time you could taste yourself, as he struggled to keep your moans at a minimum.

It was also evident the sudden position was taking a toll on him. His steady pace was faltering with each passing second.

You soon entered the familiar point of no return, feeling an intense wave of pleasure tear from within you, blinding your vision with each pulse and contraction. It took all of your not to moan out loud even against his hand, the few shreds of sanity having a hold on you.

Miguel joined you, clearly not able to withstand the rhythmic squeezes around his cock as you reached your high.

Your caught a glimpse oh him biting the back of his other hand hard. He would for sure draw blood with his fangs, but you couldn’t even stay properly focused.

He bottomed out as deep as he could, spurts of cum coating your squeezing walls.

The two of you were struggling to breathe, shallow pants surrounding you.

“Oh my god! Butterfly!”

Peter…

You jerked away from Miguel in distress but with him still buried deep inside you, catching a glimpse of Peter sitting on the floor, breathing rapidly.

“Go back to sleep. It was just a dream,” you said with a smile.

Miguel pulled you into an embrace. “You did good.”

“Me? Not Biology?”

He scowled deeply.

“You can slide out now…” you whispered with a yawn.

Miguel didn’t move. “I want to stay a little longer likes this.”

Masterlist

[kismetlotts]

Kinktober 🎃 day nine: Cheating!

cw: cheating, dubcon, noncon, mentions on rape, open relationships? (Johnny and Simon share), rough sex, mentions of blood, mentions of saliva, fingering, oral sex on reader, bruising, voyeurism, ‘don’t get caught’ trope, ignorance, degrading names such as ‘whore’, vocal Simon, creampie, mentions of having a child

Simon and Johnny who are so used to sharing each other’s little toys: their own girlfriends. It’s a weird bond that brings the two of them together. It’s sick and fucking perverted but it’s something to talk about when the weather turns cold and on a mission.

Sipping on their drinks as they recharge their batteries mumbling a, 'Remember so and so?’ getting a ‘Yeah, they were a good fuck.' in response.

It was more than likely one of the reason why the two blokes struggled with keeping their girlfriends. Most of them rejecting and breaking up with them when they’d bring it up because what woman who was looking for a family, a life, love, would want to fuck their boyfriend’s best friend? Or be tampered with?

The two of them had grown a lot of respect and loyalty for each other from this little routine. A ridiculous amount when you put it against how much respect they gained from each other at war. Protecting one and others lives, killing for each other, just doesn't help the same than sharing some good pussy. Weird logic that not even they understood but with all said, they were tight, close.

So when Johnny got his hands on you, a pretty little thing that refused to fuck until the third date he knew not only was he in danger, but you were. He knew how much Simon would ruin you, take that precious little hole of yours and stuff you so deep you'd feel it for days. Johnny just fucking knew it would happen and when you'd finally let him inside, invited him into your heavenly cunt- he couldn’t let him steal you.

Too delicate and light for Simons heavy way with sex.

"So when's my turn?" The gruff, masked man would ask Johnny. Conversation of you being brought up and the words just tumbled from the cracks of his lips. Normality and need seeping through his tone because as it was such a statement in his and Johnny's relationship, he’d think no other way.

Not once would he even consider the possibility of Johnny turning around and refusing, saying no. Telling him that your pussy- your body- is just for him. Claiming you against his own kind. Barricading and locking you away from him in his designed cell of greed.

It wasn’t going to end well, Johnny was sure of it, so with an awkward laugh and the rub of his neck he spun around facing him, eyes catching Simons through the mask before clearing his throat. Words coming across shakier than intended because he wasn't intimidated by Simon, more fretful of what he’d do knowing that you were off limits.

"Actually, lass is a good' ne. Think she might be a keeper Si." Silence filling the room for about five seconds, the slow click of the clock on the wall the only audible thing. Simons gaze not changing once and it killed Johnny, bugged him harder than a kick to the teeth.

Everything about him yearning to know what Simons brain was thinking or what he was planning, wanting to reach out and shake him, beg him to back off. They were getting old now, it was bound to be called off at some point- when they properly wanted to settle down and have kids and a family, right?

"Oh really?" His accent and words a monotone warning but Johnny was so flushed with relief that he hadn’t exploded and raged at him, his ears missed it. Missed the way his blinks slowed, analysing the man in front of him. Missed the way Simons personally and mindset changed. New thoughts drowning his head so hard he forced out exhales to think straight. Did he think he was better than him? More deserving of your body than gruff ol’ Simon over here? Worthier?

He was fucking seething, the metallic taste in his mouth potent as he bit his tongue, refraining to tell Johnny to go fuck himself, stand up and find you. Go track you down and make you cry both of their names just so he can hear which one sounds better or which one turns him on more.

Moaning your boyfriend’s name so loudly while his friend hits that one part. Choking out, crying out for Mactavish as your eyes roll back, tongue drooping out the side of your lips too. He’d be a liar to say his dick wasn't twitching at the thought.

"Yeah, I'm so sorry Simon-" But he was already shaking his head, hand waving him off with a sly smirk on his face as he told him no worries! Told him that's its alright and that he completely understands. Barely moving an inch the rest of the night as he came up with plans on what he's going to do to you. What he did in fact do to you.

Face down in yours and Johnny’s double bed. Panties damp with your cum from how many times Simon had already made you orgasm, shirt wet with tears and saliva. Rubbing your clit so harshly and fast your body trembled at every little touch. The fine line between touching and fucking, abuse and rape being blurred but you craved it. You longed for it, days of wishing and wondering when he’d come back to please you again.

He’d force your legs apart, holding you by the ankles while he ate like a mad man. Devouring you messily, the noises sounding like a fucking porn movie. Ruining your makeup, your sheets, your body. You couldn’t look Johnny in the eye when he got on all fours, kissing your thigh and humming against the soft skin while asking how you’d got another bruise.

Day and night- when Johnny's downstairs and when he's away. He'd have you begging to stop, pleading him to let you go before you’d lose yourself. His thrusts silencing you, cries turning to moans back to cries to screams of joy- it was mesmerising and so fucking bad of him.

“Oh shut up, babe. You know you want me.” He’d grunt, eyes shutting as he took you in again and again. Eyebrows furrowed in annoyance and ignorance for your cries. Knowing it was only a matter of time before you gave in again, joining him and thrusting back against his cock.

What made it worse was the moans that came from this man. Johnny was never vocal- never vocal enough for you but Simon sounded almost in tears. Each thrust like he’s on the brink of orgasm, you felt so good he couldn’t stay quiet- he didn’t want to.

His favourite memory was when he snuck into your window, almost kicking the stupid Halloween decorations Johnny had put up outside on his way up. The sky pitch black and your bedroom likewise but he could see you in his night vision goggles, sneaking behind you as you changed out of your clothes getting ready for bed.

Bending you over the bedframe, peeling down your panties and thrusting into you for a quickie. The sound of Johnny's electric toothbrush coming from the bathroom one room away only adding to his excitement. He could step in any minute by now, luckily from the darkness Simon had an advantage and most likely enough time to hide if he wanted to. If he wanted to leave your pussy.

Gloved fingers slipped into your mouth for you to suck or bite. Anything to help silence your moans. It excited him the fact that Johnny could find him, Johnny could catch him and realise all this time he though you were safe and committed to him you’d gone behind his back. His precious little girl who actually is just a dirty whore. A dirty whore who lets her hole be used. By men she doesn’t even know.

He wonders what you do when Johnny brings him up in conversation, I mean, he figures you haven't spilt the beans to him yet so do you just laugh and nod on along? Hearing his name, acting like you don't know his touch or how his tongue feels. Pretending he's a stranger, just some stranger who's dick is drilled into your memory. He doesn't fuck like Johnny, he's bigger than him, hits all the places that Johnny can’t. You can never get Simon out of your mind.

Filling you up with his cum and laughing deeply at himself. He's got to be careful with it- what if you two were trying for a baby? That would be a shock, wouldn’t it? Gorgeous little kid coming out looking just like Simon- Simons eyes, Simons hair; a little mini Simon left all for you to raise.

Maybe Johnny would be too thick to realise, too slow to pick up on why his son looks so much like his best friend- that the son he’d always wanted actually belong to Simon. Oh fucking hell, he was a dark deluded arsehole- who thinks like this? Slipping back out of the window and shutting it the same time as Johnny walked into the room.

Large soft body crawling on top of you and pushing you further into the bed. Lips attacking your sensitive neck as his already hard cock slips its way inside of your warm, creampied folds. The darkness hiding all the evidence and leaving him to believe it’s just how wet you are for him. How needy and desperate you are for him.

Blissfully unaware that the wetness lubing his cock up, letting him fuck you with ease and making him feel so hot and so good, was no other than his best friends cum. Dribbling out your hole and onto your thigh as he picks up the pace.

[1-800-cr33py]

I know it didn’t win the poll but I humbly ask you to write that RZ! Micheal Myers size kink fanfiction whenever you have the time and if you are feeling up to it🙏

{this is so late and I sincerely apologize TvT}

Sedatives

Tags: Dub-Con, Size Kink, Rough Sex, Choking, Manhandling, Reader is mentions to be a nurse some time ago, blood, knives, overstimulation, Michael is a warning himself. a/: this will most likely be one out of 2 parts anon im so sorry TvT

Sweet thing you were, you’d give the shirt off your own back if someone in need called for it, so giving and so trusting to even the most hardened criminals. It was a wonder how someone like you graced the halls of Smith’s Grove Sanitarium. You, a star-eyed nurse fresh from medical school. The scum and slime that riddled the halls of the hellish “sanctuary” you’d been accepted into. You skip down the halls with your checklist and medicine cart in tow. You were kind. You were happy. You’d given patients who’d hadn’t seen the sun in years the same kindness as one would give to an old friend. But you favored one more than the others.

Michael fucking Myers.

Silent halls.

Odd shadows.

Creaking wheels.

The usual ambiance of Smith’s Grove had finally settled within your nerves after a long long few months. You, with your now worn in uniform, counted the rooms with an intent gaze. On the left, even numbers, and parallel to them were odds. Though it was a weird concept, there was a reason. Those on the left, the doctors deemed ‘safe’ and had the possibility of rehabilitation.

Inmates that resided on the right wing however, well you didn’t quite know if you’re being honest, you weren’t allowed to even breath the wing’s direction yet. But one digresses. Your low heels made a blunt click click click upon the cold floors as you neared your station, medicine cart in tow. Your manicured hand reached for your ID, ringing yourself in as the loud pang alerted you of the unlocked status of the door, which was shoved open by your hip as you passed a polite nod to security. Your trek was cut short however, your overseer tugging you aside with a rather harsh hand.

“ You’re the medicine girl right?”

medicine girl…right. Giving a curt nod he sighed, his breath reeking of cheap coffee and some kind of alcohol. His orders were short, clipped and rather rude. Though the next words he uttered left your mouth gaping like a fish out of water.

“ You’re doing both wards. Kirsten…had an incident. “

Fucking hell.

So now, here you were, approaching your last patient for the night. With security stalking behind you with scowls as they glared at patients through the tiny windows. You gulps, it was never patients that scared you, no. It was the sleazes that worked outside the cells. Their wolffish stares and ugly grins. You shook your head, you were approaching Michael’s cell.

You didn’t know much about him, only whispers of the monster, the brute that killed most of his family. A grade A killer, someone that should be locked away from society if not for Mr. Loomis’s need to study him like some kind of bug. But, you being you, wouldn’t let that stop you from being kind. That’s what irked you most about people here, these patients were still human at the end of the day. They still bled, they still died, they had interests and dislikes and personalities. You sighed, eying the dainty wrist watch. ‘ Just an hour and a half..’ you thought as some scum of a man unlocked the heavy metal door. Eying you as you motioned him to move aside.

“ Careful, he hasn’t seen such a young thing like you in a while…might finally remember he’s got a cock. “ the guard, who’s tag read Pierson, chuckled, elbowing his colleague. You could feel their gaze raking across your body, internally you gagged. Lurching forward was a far easier than you wanted to admit, medicines and needles clattering at the motion as the door slammed behind you, leaving you to jump.

Michael’s room was…interesting looking at it.

Buzzing overhead lights gave some relief as you tended to your cart, organizing the arrangement of pills and sedatives in their respective cup to serve to the inmate, who’s back was turned to you, fiddling with another mask that would surely find its way with the rest that perched upon the greening walls. Finally, you found the correct assortment. Smiling to yourself, you turned to face the mountain of a man.

“ Alright Mr.Myers, here’s your dailies! Dr. Loomis upped your sedatives so if you feel a bit off thats the cause! “ you chirped, leaving the cup a bit of a distance. Like you’d heard from the other nurses, Michael gave no indication of acknowledgment, hands stained with the glue-water mixture. The masks on the wall drew your attention, though you didn’t dare raise a hand to touch the precious things, knowing how it felt to have your art defiled by ignorant hands. “ You have a lovely night Mr. Myers! The mask are gorgeous as well! Truly a work of art. “ you smiled, warmth radiating from your aura.

Oh sweet thing. What have you done?

[mysicklove]

𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄

DAY 10: SOMINOPHILIA

With: Levi Ackerman

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: gn! reader, sub! levi, nightmares + insomnia mentioned, oral (m! receiving), handjob in dreams, implied age gap, set in around season 2 timeline? im kinda forgetting which season erwin was in... kissing..lots of kissing, reader being puppy coded and levi is sick in love

A/N: sorry this is late!!!! i hope this also isnt too confusing considering it switches back and forth between his dream and irl. idk. also title is named after a song by The Mamas and The Papas that i LOVEEEE

Levi Ackerman finds himself plagued with nightmares. It was always like that though, since he could remember at least. Three to four nights a week he awakes in the middle of night dripping with sweat with his heart nearly beating out of his chest. He has grown used to the lack of sleep by now, it barely bugs him anymore.

That is, until he found someone to share his bed with. 

You were his light, as dramatic and sappy as it sounds, and something he will never admit out loud. But it was true, finally in this dim world he finds himself in, you came crashing in, brighter than the sun. He had fallen for you in record time, and you, drawn to his stoic and feisty aura, came tumbling down after him.

It's been a year now since you've gotten together, and Levi swears the nightmares are getting less frequent. 

Well, at least in the nights where you lay beside him. The nights where you hold him, and he has easier access to your heartbeat. The steady rhythm of your chest rising and falling. Alive.

He doesn't go into too much depth about the nightmares, but you know the general scene of them, usually relating back to his comrades deaths. He has mentioned that the recent ones involve you, and it makes your heart crumble for your beloved each time his voice cracks through the explanation. You don’t press too much on the matter – the nights he wakes up in a cold sweat, you are there to ease him back to sleep, reassuring that you and he are safe. He almost gets a full night of sleep with you around.

But alas, you aren’t all sunshine and rainbows, and neither is he. Nope, you happen to be one of the most erotic people have ever met (though, he hasn’t met many). A sick brat is what he calls you, or sometimes a disgusting pervert, if he’s feeling extra grumpy. The nicknames fly past your head, as you pepper his face with kisses. It was all in good spirit, is what you remind yourself at least. 

“Soooo, Hange recommended–”

“No.”

You pout at the man, pulling away from his chest to glare at him. “You didnt even let me finish my sentence.”

His cold face doesnt let up, even if his eyes hold a playful light to them. “I am smart enough to recognize that anything having to do with Hange is a bad idea.”

You playfully hit his chest, and the man raises his eyebrows at you. A smile pulls at your lips, and Levi cant help but stare whimsically at you. It was unfair, really. “Fine, get on with it, brat.”

“How would you feel if I woke you up with a blow job?” His reaction is immediate, first shock, and then as a couple seconds go by he seems to be much more inclined to agree, but then finally settles on an scowl.

“Why were you talking to Hange about these things?”

You cock your head to the side, tapping on your chin. “Well, I mentioned that your nightmares have started again, and they told me that oral sex helps stop them. Something neurologically with your dick and brain? I don't know.”

He stares at you for a couple of seconds, bewildered at your explanation. But, he realizes quickly what is up, and he immediately pinches the bridge of his nose with a long sigh. “They are fucking with you, idiot. Just trying to get me laid. Hange has always been like that.”

Your face falls at the words, and Levi swears you managed to master the kicked puppy look. He grabs your hands and pulls you back onto his chest, rolling his eyes when you hum into his skin. The warmth brought him comfort, and he finds himself more at peace. “I mean…It won't help with the nightmares, but who would turn down waking up to a blowjob?” Levi mumbles into your hair, while rubbing his hands up and down your arms.

You twist to look up at him, the familiar grin back on your face. “Yeah?”

He scoffs at you, an embaressed blush coating his cheeks. “Just dont wake me up early, alright. Just gonna piss me off.”

He swears he can see you wagging a tail. “Of course, Captain!”

Two weeks have gone by, and Levi has not woken up to your face anywhere near his dick. He has awoke to kisses along his cheeks, and neck, but that wasnt new, you were always disgustingly affectionate in your half awake state. He holds a content (half) smile for about ten seconds as he shuts the door of your room, only for it to drop when he sees Hange.

He wasnt the one to complain though, maybe you were just teasing him. You always did like to press his buttons. He wasn't going to give you the satisfaction of knowing he wants it. So, the dark haired man continues on, nightmares and all, through the weeks.

By the time a month came passing by, he knows that you forgot all about your stupid little promise – your stupid naive words that only worked to piss him off. He glared at you from across the halls for a whole week – never daring to actually show you real signs that he was upset. But after you accidentally caught him frowning at you from across the training grounds, he was immediately dragged back your shared rooms, and fucked lovingly, as you apolgized for everything you could think of that would piss the man off.

You didnt mention the blowjob, but Levi was content with the disheveled hair, and the hickeys and bite marks littering his body, so he forgives you. 

He forgets about the blowjob after two months. You were more horny than usual, so the two of you were at it multiple times a week. He would end up too exhausted to hold any real dreams, including his nightmares.

Levi was okay with it.

9 am. Levi, for the first time ever, was oversleeping. Of course when you woke up at 8 am, on your day off from training, and found your lover by your side, you couldnt help but be shocked. He was usually gone by 5 am to get to training. 

But you heard him woke up multiple times in the middle of the night. The nightmares were back. His shaky hands wrapped around you, and he panted into your neck, trembling like you've never seen before. You don't know what triggered it, but Levi seemed to have a really bad night. 

He deserves to sleep in. So, at fifteen past 8, you scamper to Erwins office and beg the commander for Levi to have a day off. He always did have a soft spot for you. For one, you brought happiness to humanities strongest, and also because his friend silently threatened him death if he was to mistreat you. Erwin agreed without much hesitation. 

You crawl into bed next to your lover, and begin to trace his content face. At least the nightmares were gone for the night.

Then, the realization hits you. This was the perfect time for you to finally do as promised.

You waited months because you wanted Levi to forget about your words. Of course, you assumed he forgot them after a couple of days, paying no attention to your promise, but you waited it out just in case. 

And now, the both of you dont have any plans today. A once in a lifetime experience, it has got to be.

So with one more glance at your lover, you kiss his cheek, hold back a small giggle, and slowly remove the blanket from his lap. Then, you slide yourself down on the bed, and carefully manevuer yourself in between his legs. He doesnt sleep with much attire, growing hot in the night. Plus with the addition of the cold sweat he often finds himself in, he learns that going next to bare was easier. 

You pull down his boxers, and are immediately exposed to a dark patch of hair. It's trimmed properly, but he prefers to have a little hair down their over being completely shaven. Something on the lines of protecting his dick from germs or whatnot. You dont listen to the details, only thinking about how hot it is.

The boxers make it past his thighs, and you glance back up at the man. He doesn't even seem to flinch when the cool air comes into contact with his skin. He snoozes peacefully into the pillow, his dark hair covering his eyes. 

His dick lays limp against his leg, and you pick it up slowly, careful to not wake him up. You run your fingers over it a couple of times, and then, holding the back of it with your fingers to support it, you run your tongue from bottom to top of the length. 

Levi doesn't move. You take that as a sigh to continue. 

Another stripe of the tongue, and then two more, and nothing happens. You grow bolder by the moment. You place his still soft cock into your mouth, and this time you do hear a reaction. Its a quiet sigh, but it was something. His eyes still remain shut.

Slowly, you begin to suckle on the tip, finding it easier to fit it in your mouth while soft. Your tongue roams the shaft, and you press sloppy, wet kisses to his veins. Blood rushes to his cock unconsciously, and Levi still has not stirred, even with his cock now hard. You chuckle with amusement, but dont stop your movements, now dragging your hands along his thighs to appreciate his body.

Levi was having a good dream. It wasnt like the past couple of nightmares, no, this one seemed to have a light hue. It was just the two of you, laying with your backs against grass. A open field, far away from everyone, and not a threat in sight. Titans were gone.

A peaceful world for the two of you. A world Levi craved. 

His hands trace your face, and he stares at you, admiring every crease and divot of your skin. You slide your way over toward him, leaning forward to kiss him. “I love you.”

He hums, eyes falling shut, as he wraps his arms around your body. “Yeah, yeah. Love ya too, brat.”

You giggle at him, and suddenly the smile on your face shifts. It turns soft, the tips of your mouth curling up in an almost feline way, while you eyes become hooded. He watches you lean forward and press your lips to his. The man doesnt stop you, gently kissing you back while your tongue slips into his mouth. Levi gulps when your hands trace down to his pants, and he quickly looks around the meadow, afraid to discover an unwelcomed guest. Of course there was nobody, it was a dream, not a nightmare. Your hand slips into his pants, and Levi’s back arches in the grass.

He twitches in his sleep and you smile fondly at the man. The tip of his cock rest against your cheek, as you admire him for a second too long, only to be rewarded with jolt of his hips from the source unknown, sending it slapping across your face. You hold back a laugh, and then grab at it again, mumbling out a, “Even a brat in your sleep, huh Captain?” 

You lean forward and wrap your lips around him again.

“D-Don't stop!” Levi groans out, hands clutching at your shirt while he squeezes his eyes shut. It doesn't stop the sun from getting past his eyelids, so he moves closer to you to hopefully block it out. You press your lips to his neck, nibbling at the space just beneath his ears.

“Would never,” You purr, and the man glances at your hand. His pants are pulled down completely now, and your pace was rutheless in its up and down motions. It sends him shivering, and covering his face with the back of his arm. He breathes through clenched teeth, and tries his best not to let out a whimper. The man hears your giggle, and before he could stop himself, the whine slips out.

The first noise of the morning was a low whimper. Not much, but definitely there, and unbelievably cute. You grip at his hips and try to take him deeper, but his hips thrusts back into your mouth with another paired whine. Your eyes widen, and you gag out at the unexpected movement, having to pull away to catch your breath. His dark hair whips back and forth, and he continues to make low mewling noises. “Huh, and you call me the pervert. What are you dreaming about, pretty?”

Levi moans into your mouth, wrapping his arms around your neck. His hips buck up into your hands, and you playfully bite his lip, earning a dramatic grunt in complaint. He grips your hair and pulls you back to his lips before you try and let out another teasing remark. Precum leaks onto your hand, and he swears that it provides more of the makeshift lube then usual. Your hand feels better than normal, strangely damp, and so warm. Did handjobs always feel this good?

He can feel his high approaching and his breaths come out quicker. “Gonna..cum. Fuck!”

You detach yourself from his lips. “No, no, no! Not yet!” You tease, voice light and almost giggly. It wasn't the first time you denied him of his release, but it was rare. You always di did pamper him. 

The man scowls at you, borderline on the cusp of baring his teeth. “Why?” He demands, short and simple, but shows exactly how peeved he is. Levi is more than surprised to feel that you didn't squeeze his cock in warning. No, still the warm, tight feeling, that does not make any sense to him.

“Can you do something for me first?”

A demand from you? Unheard of. “Get on with it, I-Im close”

Your hand movements become louder and louder, and it shouldn't sound like that. It's so lewd, and the squelching noise are never that loud. 

You press you lips to his ear, and a shiver runs down his spine at your breath, which is strangely cooler than usual. “Wake up, Captain.”

His eyes snap open immediately and he pants into the dark room. Levi hears it first, before he feels it. A loud slurping sort of noise, and the man feels his cock trapped between something warm, wet. 

A throat. Not a hand. 

He is quick to manevour himself to hold his weight on his elbows, and glances down at you, breaths coming out shallow and quick. You smile when you catch his eye, and for a second you pull away from him. You pepper his length down with kisses. “Well, well, good morning, sleepy head,” You mumble, letting another swipe of your tongue graze his thick blue vein. Then, with little hesitation, you dive back onto his cock, taking it as far as you can into your mouth.

“What are you–Fuck!” His legs instinctually bend outward, and his back arches. His head was still foggy in his half sleepen state. Was that all a dream? Was this real? He grips onto your hair, and does his best not to force you deeper onto his cock.

Levi could feel his orgasm approaching and rapidly, same as the dream. But this time it was real, and by god did it feel that way. His hips buck into your mouth and he lets out loud moans, tucking his face into the pillow to try and muffle them. 

He tries to ask for permission again to cum again, hoping that this time real you wouldnt lead him on. It comes out more as a command, but you just roll your eyes with a smile, the giggle in the back of your throat sending him spiral. 

“Cumming. Oh god. Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He chants, and your eyes widen in shock, but you don't pull away from his cock. He was never the one to be polite in bed, the little brat was always barking commands and half hearted complaints. He must be really enjoying this treat if he was to thank you.

You dont have time to dwell on it much, because he forces your head lower onto his cock and cums into your mouth. You wince at the taste, but bear no mind to it as you watch your lover unravel. His back still continues to arch (which you will never get over) while his eyes are shut. The noises he lets out are soft, more of a mewl and a groan, but adorable nonetheless. His whole body trembles and his legs lay out wide, shaking under the force of the orgasm.

You pull away when he is done, and wipe your lips with the back of your hand. “Taste perfect as usual. Always so good on your diet!”

He rolls his eye at you, but it doesn't hold much bite considering that the man seemed to be basking in the post orgasm glow. “You are gross. I know that shit tastes bad.”

“Nope! Anything that the Captian makes is amazing”

He throws a pillow at your face, and you pout at him, a dramatic whine slipping past your lips. “Don't call me that, I am not even your Captain anymore, brat. And stop pouting!” He demands, pulling up his boxers before letting out a big stretch.

“Why are you so mean to me?” You complain, crawling forward to lay on his chest. “After I gave you head too!”

The frown does not drop from his face, but he does trace his fingers along your face. A silent token of affection that you purr into. “Took ya long enough. Thought you forgot about it.”

You fake hurt, taking in a dramatic breath. “Of course not! I would never lie to you.” The words are light, and holds a smile in them. “And hey, dont you think you are a little spoiled? Complaining that you got a blowjob too late.”

Levi doesnt even seem to react, his facial expression remaining neutral, and his words flat. “No ‘m not. Said thank you and everything.”

To this, you do nod, practically vibrating with affection to give. It was too hard to really be upset with him. “Super polite of you! I was so impressed!”

This does make him roll his eyes. “You really think low of me, huh?”

You poke at his cheek with a smile plastered on your face. “Aww cmon dont be dramatic again. You know I dont. Oh! Also, did it help with the nightmares?” You tease, knowing exactly what type of dream he really was having. “You sounded very….Scared in your dream.”

He seems to flush red, but alas, Levi was never the one to be on the losing foot. “....Yes. Seems like you are going to have to do this for me everyday. To stop the nightmares.”

You burst out laughing, and fail to see the small grin that creeps up the dark haired man's face.

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[bisexualiteaa]

Make-Up Sex

Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (SMUT!!)

CW: NSFW MDNI!! Rough sex, riding, Cooper getting tied up, p in v, p0rn w/o plot, irradiated cream pie x2, mention of needles, cursing, established relationship, slight OOC Cooper, slight deviance from show

AN: I’m really enjoying writing for asks! Thank you to those who have submitted any, my ask box is always open so feel free to send in more! I will do my best to get to them as I can, and to the Anon who asked for this one, I hope I did your ask justice! Enjoy our favorite cowboy getting tied up and railed. Save a horse, ride a cowboy y’all. 🤠 apologies if it seems rushed, I wrote it at like 2am and post this on my way to work 😭

Synopsis: Cooper Howard is one stubborn man, and after a while of getting on your nerves, you finally find a way to make him apologize.

He had been getting on your nerves all day. First instance was when you two were out scavenging after finishing a bounty hunt, your supplies were running a bit low after being out for three whole days longer than you’d anticipated. You were getting ready to shoot one of the bandits that managed to get a stray bullet to graze your cheek when he killed them before you could even get a chance. You evil eyed him as he said “ain’t fun havin’ your kills stolen from ya, is it sweetheart?” He asked, making you roll your eyes and give a groan as you sifted through the raider’s pockets for anything useful. No such luck. A whole three bottle caps, and a plastic fork. So you drug your feet as you both carried on towards home.

Second instance was when you both were surprised by some radroaches and radscorpions after opening the door to what looked to be a vacant rest stop to get supplies from. A few wasted bits of ammo later, you make it inside and he made fun of your screams for a whole two hours. “Ain’t afraid of raiders, needles, nothin’ but bugs” he would say as he’d laugh so hard he’d go into a coughing fit while your face burned bright red with anger and embarrassment as he’d use his inhaler.

The third instance was where you drew the line. He was sifting through his bag trying to find his canteen of water after not finding shit at the rest stop. “Motherfucker” he said to himself, upon not being able to find it or anything really to have to drink. So instead of asking, he just went into your bag when you were busy trying to scavenge more bodies, took yours and drank it dry without telling you, and you had at least three more hours on foot until you made it back to the settlement. So when you went to go get a drink of water, the horror and plain rage on your face when you felt that it was empty was immeasurable. “How in the fuck is this thing empty? I JUST filled it yesterday!” You said, turning to look at Cooper as you both walked and the look on his face was all you needed as an answer. “You drank all o’ my water? What ‘n the hell happened to your canteen?” You asked, your southern drawl becoming more evident the angrier you got. “Must’ve forgot it” he said, making you look at him like he just spoke a whole different language. “You forgot it?” you asked, wondering how in the hell the deadliest motherfucker in this wasteland was traveling with you and just forgot his water. “Oh you gotta be shittin’ me….You know what, I don’t even wanna know how you managed that. We’re almost back to the settlement, I’ll refill it when we get there” you said angrily, moving ahead of him a little to prove that he’d pulled the last straw on your patience.

When you made it back to your settlement and back to the place you called home, you organized all the supplies you’d gotten, (which wasn’t much) putting them where they all were supposed to go, refilling canteens of water, and changing into more comfortable clothes as night began to fall. It was around dinner time that Cooper finally noticed that he really managed to piss you off.

You’d hardly ever given Cooper the cold shoulder in the time you two had been together, he was married before so he wasn’t ignorant to what being given the cold shoulder meant, but Cooper Howard was a stubborn man, one set in his ways so when he feels there’s no need to do something, he will not do it. “You gonna sit here ‘n ignore me all night?” He asked, and all you did was cross your arms in response, making him shake his head. “I’ll take that as a yes, but we’ll see how long that lasts, ya always come around somehow” he said arrogantly, only adding fuel to the fire and he knew it, it’s just how he was. He was an asshole, he was when you met him and apparently that charm never fully left. He was partly right however which is what you didn’t want to give him credit for. Even when you were really mad at him, you always came around at some point. His mouth got him into a lot of trouble, but it also managed to get him out of it too, his charisma and smooth talking always landing with some kisses to open you back up or make up sex to help you forget. You never were the kind of girl to let good dick sway you out of being mad but it was attached to a man that cared about you in ways no one else ever did, so you supposed he was at least a good exception. “You’ll come ‘round when that ache sets in, when you realize your dainty lil’ fingers can’t do anything close to what mine do to you” he said by your ear as he stood up from the dining room table, working you up and trying to get you to sleep with him to forget about your anger, but just as he was stubborn, you were just as set in your ways too. Though he knew it was a tough decision for you, you’d both gone a whole two weeks out there in the wastelands collecting caps from bounties and scavenging for supplies without any time or a means to sneak away and be with one another, so you were both pent up and he knew it. It was half the reason for your attitude to begin with, although you supposed he likely knew that too.

You got up from the chair in the kitchen a few minutes after he moved to the bedroom, getting ready for bed. You stopped him as he’d just taken his boots off, finally ready to be on speaking terms again but they were your terms. “Here’s how this is gon’ work. You, are gonna lay on that bed, and let me fuck you like I hate you because right now, I am doing everythin’ in my power not to hate you, and you ain’t been makin’ that an easy feat” you said, your eyes looking straight into his as if you were staring right into his soul, if he still even had one. “Yeah? And what makes you think I’m just gonna let you get away with that, lil’ lady?” He asked in a condescending tone, making you chuckle. “Because I know damn well you’re as pent up as I am, so if you want any, and wanna get back into my good graces, this is how it’s gonna happen. And I will accept that as an apology for the shit you’ve done” you replied as you stepped closer, not caring that you had to look up at him when you spoke, the venom in your words was enough to prove the point you were trying to make. Your response making him huff a short, dry chuckle, impressed by how well you stood your ground, so he awaited your orders. “Now take your damn clothes off” you said, making him grin as he did as he was told, he could get used to you bossing him around like this. Your accent got a little thicker when you were mad, and the way you barked orders and told him what to do with a quip ready for whatever he had to say in response, he had to admit was a side of you he liked seeing more than he’d ever admit to. He shook his duster from his shoulders, then worked at his shirt as you pulled yours off and over your head, then moved to unclasp your bra and dispose of it on the floor, not caring where it went. Your eyes raked each other’s frame with almost visible tension as you stood a few feet apart from each other. Enough space to keep him from using his hands to get you to submit, but enough to also allow you to close the gap when you felt comfortable enough to. You both worked at undoing your pants, tossing them aside to be forgotten about until morning. “Get on the bed” you ordered, leaving the room to grab his rope from his saddlebag in the kitchen. When you returned, he noticed the item in your hands, giving you a wicked grin. “Gonna tie me up, sweetheart?” He asked in that condescending tone, making you chuckle as you tied his hands to the rungs of the bed frame nice and tight. Tight enough to keep him in place, not too tight to hurt too much, he was an asshole sure but he was still your asshole. “Sure am. Gonna need to earn the right back t’ touch me, and you ain’t earned it yet” you replied, straddling his lap as you ground your slick pussy against his cock. He gave a groan at the feel of you, watching as your hips moved against his to coat him in slick for when you’d line him up to your entrance. Key word there was when because you wanted to make this torturous. You moaned as you bucked your hips against him, his head bumping your clit as you used him for your own pleasure. “Think I could use you just like this. Mmm…make myself cum then leave you here achin’ for more” you threatened, running your hands along your figure and toying with your breast to tease him extra, hearing groans leave him each time your pussy would glide along his cock. “Now that ain’t very nice of you” he replied, making you grin. “Never said nothin’ ‘bout playin’ nice sugar. Still waitin’ for you to say you’re sorry” you responded, making him grunt as you continued to play with yourself and moan all sweetly. “I ain’t apologizin’, no need to” he said, making you click your tongue. “A shame, looks like you ain’t cummin’ tonight then” you said, continuing your movements as you got closer and closer to letting that knot snap inside you. He wanted- no he *needed* to feel your gummy walls wrapped around his cock, so the fact that you were using it in a way that couldn’t afford him that, was already working his nerves.

“What’s wrong? Don’t like what I’m givin’ you? Should be thankful I’m even touchin’ you with how mad you made me” you said, going a little quicker now with your movements so he tried focusing on that, focusing on the way your clit would bump that spot right under his tip over and over. So when you came from grinding against it rather than seating on it and *ruined*that chance of still getting to finish, he gave a disgruntled grunt.

“Aww what’s the matter? Did I stop somethin’?” You asked in a deeper, condescending tone that had his dick throbbing in need. He’d never seen this evil of a side of you before, but you had only just started. “Whatchya want Cooper? Go ‘head, tell me” you said, making him grunt. “Want you t’ shut up and ride me already” he said, making you chuckle before landing a harsh slap across his face, the sound of your hand meeting his cheek rang through the room. “You ain’t in the position to be givin’ orders sugar. I thought you had manners” you said as he turned and looked back at you, astonished one by the power behind that smack and two, by the tone you were getting with him. “I’ll ask you one more time, what’dya want me to do to you, hmm?” You asked, and knowing now what power you had behind just one of those smaller hands of yours, he relented. “Ride me, please” he grunted, making you smile and lay a soft kiss to his cheek to try and soothe where you slapped him. “See? Not so bad now is it? Now if ya just apologize, I’ll take some RadAway and let you cum” you said, and judging by the look on his face, you could say that wasn’t going to happen. “Fuck you” he spat, making you chuckle. “Oh I am gonna fuck you, don’t you worry” you said as you lined him up to your entrance, sinking down on him inch by torturous inch. You were having way too much fun with this, and he didn’t like that he couldn’t have his way for a change. His hips involuntarily bucked up to try and shove more of himself into your tight cunt, but you moved to where it wouldn’t happen, making him grip the bed frame where he was tied to. “Someone’s gettin’ antsy, best keep them hips steady if you want this to continue” you said, making him growl under his breath before giving a groan once you were fully seated on him. You gave a moan as his tip nudged the apex to your cervix, moving your hips back and forth to where you would get off, but not do much for him. He gave you an angry look that made you laugh. “What’s the matter honey? Ya asked me to ride you already, it’s what I’m doin’” you said, making him grit his teeth as he did his best to hold his bearings. “But I guess you were good and didn’t move after I warned you so I’ll throw a bone atchya” you said, moving up and down on him, earning a groan from him once more that mingled with the moans falling from your lips. “Fuck…” he breathed, making you chuckle and smirk in that bratty way that he wanted to fuck off your face already, but he couldn’t. Despite his expressions and reactions, he was enjoying this too much but he couldn’t let you know that.

“Mmm, Cooper…” you moaned sweetly as you bounced on his cock, his name sounded heavenly when it fell from your lips, he could hardly get enough of it. He watched as your tits bounced up and down with your movements, the way your thighs jiggled as you moved, god how he wanted to grip them so bad right now. To hold you down and buck up into you until your eyes were rolling back in your head and you were screaming, but this was your show to run. You picked up the pace a little bit, going faster and angling where his tip would brush against that sweet bundle of nerves deep inside. He felt the way your walls started to close around him, sucking him in each time you’d come down, and fluttering around him. You were close. You were so caught up in chasing that feeling that you almost missed what he said. “Fuck- ‘m sorry” he spoke softly, finally apologizing to you. “What was that? I don’t think I quite heard ya there” you said, making him grunt. He should have known that you would milk the shit out of this. “I said I was- fuck- sorry” he repeated, making you hum but it wasn’t enough, not yet. So you stopped. “Sorry for what?” You asked, and he didn’t seem very happy at the fact that you stopped moving all together when he was so close to cumming yet again. “Dammit, wadn’t sayin’ sorry enough? I fuckin’ apologized like you wanted” he snapped, making you slap him across his cheek once more, this one stinging a bit more because it landed in the exact same spot as the last one. Though the tingling sensation of pain never lasted very long, it was enough to make his dick throb while inside of you and he prayed you wouldn’t notice. “Lose the attitude before I hop off and take care of myself then leave you tied up here all night” you said, making him huff in response. “Fine” he replied gruffly through gritted teeth. “Good, now I wanna hear you say it. What are you sorry for?” You asked as you started your pace back up, making him groan again as your hips and ass slapped down against him harshly. “Sorry f’ bein’ an asshole” he grunted out. “And?” You asked, needing just a little bit more before you were satisfied. “And f’ makin’ you mad” he finished, and you were content with that. “Happy?” He asked, making you hum and pretend to contemplate if you were for a minute before finally answering. “Yeah, I’ll take that” you said, placing your hands on his chest as you bounced up and down on him once more, earning a relieved sigh from him. “Just like that sweetheart, fuck…” he groaned before you leaned down, pulling him into the first kiss you’ve shared in a day and a half. You moaned into it as you started to near your peak, finally able to chase it after all the time spent putting it off to deal with his attitude. “Gonna cum- Cooper…!” you moaned into the crook of his neck and that was his undoing. You hid your face into his neck as your walls squeezed him tight, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. Your legs shook as his hips bucked up into you, trying to work the both of you through your high as he pumped you full.

What he wasn’t expecting was you to keep moving, earning an almost pained groan from him as you ground yourself against him. “I never gave you permission to cum inside me” you stated, apparently he wasn’t out of the dog house just yet. He was plotting how he would get you back for this on another day, how he’d wreck you and make you remember just who it is you’re doing this to. You smirked as you had the wonderful idea of giving him a taste of his own medicine. “Perk about it bein’ a minute? I can go all night” you teased as you set that steady pace once more, needing more, needing to feel him after being so long without. His hands gripped the bed posts, white knuckled as he hissed through his teeth from the overstimulation. “You are one evil woman, ya know that?” He asked playfully, making you chuckle. “Don’t act like you don’t fuckin’ love it” you replied, and he certainly couldn’t argue with you there, not when it felt this good. “You can give me one more, can’t you sweetie?” You asked in a sickly sweet tone, using the same line he’d always use on you anytime he’d overstimulate the hell out of you just to see the faces you make and hear your moans. He recognized that line, making him grunt and groan as you moved your hips. “Fuck…” was all he could get out, mind foggy of any thoughts, just how good your walls felt as they massaged his dick. Maybe he should piss you off more often. “Look at those pretty faces, you like this, don’t you?” you asked, making him damn near whimper at your tone and he never does that shit. You gave an evil laugh at the pathetic sound. “Oh you sweet thing, I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you” you said, leaning down and biting into his shoulder as you picked up the pace a little bit, earning a lewd groan from him. You laved your tongue over the spot, watching it heal instantly before sitting back up, fully seating yourself on him. You reached behind you to cup and fondle his balls, moving your hips back and forth to grind your clit against him to both work you to your end. “C’mon baby, give it to me. I can tell you’re almost there” you said, making him tilt his head back at all the feelings you were giving him, it was too much yet not enough all at once and it was torture. Your free hand came to his cheeks, pulling his head down to face you. “Eyes on me” you ordered, and his eyes looked into yours for a moment before flitting down to where your bodies were connected, giving a groan when he’d see himself disappear and reappear slightly and the way his cum was sticking to your thighs and his lower stomach. “Cooper…” you moaned softly once more, that was almost always your sign, the way you’d sigh his name so deliciously paired with your walls milking him for everything he could give you drove him mad. “Cum with me honey” you pleaded, and felt as his hips bucked up into you three or four times before you both were sent over the edge once more, a cacophony of moans slipping from both of you as he spilled inside of you and you came on his cock.

After laying there for a few minutes, enjoying the peaceful after glow of your orgasms, you sat up, accidentally seating yourself fully on his dick again and he gave a pained groan. “Not again…” he whined, making you laugh as your hands came to the rope binding his wrists. “Relax, I’m just undoin’ ya. I’m mean, but not that mean” you said through giggles. “You okay though? I know I was really rough but I didn’t go too far…did I?” You asked skiddishly, a complete 180 of the attitude you had just moments ago and it made him laugh. “Wasn’t expectin’ it outta you sweetheart but I’d be a damn liar if I said I didn’t like it. I’m alright, you did good” he assured, making you relieved as you laid on top of him, littering his lips, cheeks, neck, shoulder, and chest with kisses as his hands rested on your back and hips. “I love you Coop. Even when ya piss me off, you’re still the only person in this god forsaken wasteland I could ever see myself with” you spoke, making him chuckle. “I love you too, sweetheart. ‘m sorry for makin’ you upset, wasn’t right. But I’d say you did a damn good job of puttin’ me in my place” he said, making you giggle. “No hard feelings?” You asked, looking at him with eyes that held so much worry for one person, eyes that held so much care. His hand came to the back of your head, pulling you into a loving kiss. “Never” he said into it, pressing his forehead against yours after you both parted for air. You gave a contented hum, happy for things to be all right again. “Remind me to piss you off more often, you got a good swing on ya” he said, breaking the peaceful silence with a grin, making you laugh. “Please don’t, I like moments like this so much more. I hate bein’ mad at you, love you too much” you replied, making him kiss the top of your head, wondering what he ever did to deserve someone like you.

“C’mon, let’s get ya cleaned up and get some RadAway in ya, don’t wanna ruin that perfect skin just yet” he said, making you giggle once more but it was cut off by a hiss as he moved you off from his softened dick, grabbing a wet rag and cleaning you both up as he got the IV started. He kissed your head once more, holding your hand like he always did as you got the needle in, got it all hooked up and a good flow going, coming back to sling his arm around you and hold you to him. Between the warmth of his body and the comfort of the bed, you couldn’t help but let your eyes flutter shut, a soft smile resting on your lips as you fell asleep peacefully against him. You always felt safe when you were with him, no matter where you were, and he’d always protect you no matter what. And that, is what love in post apocalypse looked like, he swore it.

[atinystraynstay]

In The Woods Somewhere - Kim Mingyu

Synopsis: Going into the woods was not your idea of a vacation. However, Mingyu was determined to change your mind.

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem. reader

WARNING: MINORS DNI

Genre: established relationship, soft smut

Contains: nudity, grinding, begging, exhibitionism (even if you can call it that), unprotected sex (wrap it up, my friends!), pet names (use of daddy), creampie

Word Count: 3.5k

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"Do I need to make a right or left turn?" Mingyu muttered.

His eyes glanced back and forth between the road in front of him and the GPS. You couldn't help but giggle at how adorable looked, even if he looked like a mad man behind the wheel. His eyebrows were scrunched together, his tongue slightly poking out from his lips.

"Honey, would you leave that to me?" "Yes, passenger princess," he said teasingly.

Yet, he still reached over to pull your hand gently to his lips where he placed a lingering kiss on the back of your hand. Even when he was in a playful mood, he never wanted you to doubt it came from a place of endearment.

You squeezed his hand affectionately as your eyes analyzed the GPS mounted on the dashboard.

"Okay, you're going to make a left then follow the dirt road to the cabin." "Aye, aye captain!"

You couldn't help but giggle at his antics. One of the things you adored about Mingyu was his goofy personality. It made life fun, even when you felt like the world around you was crashing down.

That is why Mingyu instantly recommended a getaway, just for the two of you. He, of course, felt his own stressors at work. With deadlines and projects popping up, the time you have as a couple was very limited. If anything, the most you see each other is when you are going to bed. But even then, there is a chance one of you might be asleep before the other gets home.

Some of Mingyu's fondest childhood memories came from the outdoors. His father created fond memories of going out fishing, which Mingyu aspired to do with his future children. He also loved the moments his friends decided to rent out a cabin and spend a week together. That experience brought all of them closer.

And that was something he wanted to experience with you.

While you loved the effort Mingyu put into the relationship and looked out for your well-being, you were hesitant. Not because this was technically your first trip as a couple. You were excited for that part!

Unlike Mingyu, you never understood the allure of the woods. You were always drawn to city life where things were fast-paced. Being outdoors slowed down reality in ways you weren't sure how to cope with. You also weren't the biggest fans of all the bugs.

Mingyu was still determined to make this the best trip possible.

The two of you had been driving from the city nearly all afternoon. The sun has completely dipped behind the mountain but still painted the sky in dark hues of blue and purple. You could somewhat make out the landscape around you, but it made you more eager to be in the arms of your loving boyfriend as soon as possible.

"I think this is it!" Mingyu proudly announced.

You looked ahead to see the cabin Mingyu rented out for the next several days. It was made out of cherry-colored wood with the railing of the porch painted green. There was a set of stairs that led down to the dock which connected to the river. Mingyu would definitely be intrigued to go down in the morning.

"It looks so cozy. What a great pick, baby."

He smiled wider at your satisfaction. Everything Mingyu did was to satisfy you. You were his everything.

"Come on, we better get inside before it's completely dark. Who knows what lurks out there."

Your eyes widened before you began to scramble out of his car. Mingyu couldn't help but chuckle, but he also felt a bit guilty. This trip was about making memories with you. He didn't want to do anything to risk you not enjoying your time.

Once out of the car, the two of you headed towards the trunk of his vehicle. You were about to retrieve your purple duffle bag, but Mingyu beat you two it before you could even reach forward.

There was rustling beside you which caused you to jump. Mingyu smirked a bit when you moved closer to him. Any sign that you trusted him and needed him boosted his ego. He made sure to put the strap of his own duffle bag over his head so it hung at his side. His left hand held the strap of yours, so his free hand was free for you.

Instead, you wrapped both of your arms around his arm. He leaned down to plant a lingering kiss on your forehead before escorting you inside the cabin.

Luckily, the owner of the cabin texted Mingyu all the directions on how to enter. And by some miracle, he didn't break the smart keypad.

Your shoes found their temporary home by the front of the door. Slowly, you detached yourself from Mingyu to explore the cabin. The front of the cabin was like its own sunroom with a view of the river. You knew you'd appreciate it a bit more in the morning when you can see it clearly with your cup of coffee.

Mingyu had already migrated to setting your belongings in the bedroom. You began to follow, but also at a more leisurely pace. Your eyes bounced around the living room. There was a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall with a couch and two recliners. Eve though you knew you and Mingyu would be cuddling either way and not need as many seating options.

The kitchen was an open floor concept with a generous amount of counter space and a kitchen island. You two had stopped for food on the way to the cabin, so you weren't particularly hungry. A trip to the grocery store was in order which excited.

One of your favorite things to do with Mingyu was to cook. Or mainly to watch him cook. It was one of the qualities of Mingyu you adored. You loved watching his tall stature over the stove. He was really in his element whenever he was in the kitchen. You couldn't help but also stare at the way his arms would flex when doing the simplest of techniques.

You were about to join your boyfriend in the bedroom when a pair of hands stopped you in your tracks. If it was in any other scenario, you might've jumped. However, you could always recognize the loving touch of your beloved.

"How did you know I was about to come find you?"

Your head tilted back so you could look up at Mingyu. He smiled wide when he was able to look into your eyes. Often, Mingyu compared your eyes to two lost gems. He had never seen a color quite like yours which made him want to stare into your eyes all day.

"Lucky guess, pretty girl," he chuckled. His lips pressed against your temple which caused you to flutter your eyes shut at the feeling. It was such a simple, sweet gesture but one that nevertheless got your heart racing. You leaned back into Mingyu's chest where he took the opportunity to wrap his arms fully around you.

"You know, there is one thing I forgot to mention." "Uh oh," you began. "Don't tell me you forgot something or broke something already. We haven't even been here for 5 minutes!"

He wanted to look at you as if he had been hurt. However, he knew his track record of causing chaos whenever he simply looked at something. And there is no way he could be mad at his girl knowing him so well.

"Surprisingly not yet. But there is a hot tub here, wanna go break that in?"

Kim Mingyu is the only person who could convince you to get in a bikini at the beginning of spring. When it was still chilly and where layering your clothing was recommended.

Loving Mingyu was something you thought only existed in films. It was refreshing to be embraced by someone who loves you unconditionally. Even on the busiest days, he came home to be the man you needed. You two balanced each other by both being silly and being there to support one another during the trials of life.

It made you want to leap into his arms while also being there to hold him when he needed you. He was your everything.

And, staring at the man before you, you knew you made the right decision in saying yes to his offer. You had slipped into the bathroom to get out of your clothes. Mingyu went out to set up the hot tub, so it was all warm and ready to welcome you.

He had already slipped into the hot tub. His clothes had become a pile on one of the chairs. His arms rested along the back of the hot tub. Underneath the moon, he glistened. The honey tone of his skin made you salivate, wanting to shower him with your attention and affectionate.

He was all yours.

"What are you waiting for, pretty girl?" He teased you. "Seem a little distracted tonight. Let me come help you."

You bit your lip, unable to stifle the giggle caused by his antics. You were standing on the desk with a white fluffy towel wrapped around your clothes. You had another towel for Mingyu, going to rest it by his clothes for later. You took a step closer so you were by the edge where the deck met the hot tub.

Mingyu had pushed himself off of the edge of the hot tub so he could make his way over to you. The water stopped by his waist, not giving away but also leaving little to the imagination as the water was still a bit clear. He smirked with confidence, knowing you were eyeing him.

His hand extended out to you, so he could help you in the hot tub.

Slowly, you untucked your towel and let it drop onto the wooden deck. You shivered from the chilly air hitting your exposed skin, but also from Mingyu's gaze on you. Your nipples hardened and goosebumps rose on your skin. Mingyu's eyes marveled at you. Underneath the moon, you glowed. He was starstruck. This was always how he looked at you, like it was the first time he got the privilege of seeing you naked. You just kept getting more beautiful every single time. He noticed the pink flush on your cheeks which made his heart race. How could someone be so sexy yet so adorable at the same time.

He helped ease you into the warm water, not wanting you to accidentally slip. He would catch you regardless. You sighed gently as the warm water hit your skin and instantly relaxed your muscles. You were having a hard time remembering when you felt this at peace. There was no impending deadlines, no late night cals with the office. You were just here in the moment with the man you loved the most.

"I love seeing you like this." "Naked?" You laughed. "I mean, yes, I love being the man that you feel comfortable around to be this vulnerable. But I love seeing you content."

Smiling up at Mingyu, you wrapped your arms around his torso. He pulled you fully in his arms as he reclaimed his position in the hot tub. It was like he was sitting on his royal throne with you, his queen, accompanying him.

Once straddled his lap, so your arms could fully wrap around his neck. Your fingers drove through the hair at the back of his head, causing Mingyu's eyes to flutter shut. His hands squeezed your hips appreciatively. His biggest weakness was feeling your touch all over his body. It could be as simple as holding his hand in public to intimate moments like this. Any time he felt you presence, he was reassured this was all real and not some cruel dream.

His thumbs circled your hips, causing you to melt into him. The slight shift in your body caused you to rub against his cock. His breathing hitched gently as he looked down at you, biting you lip. You didn't think much of it until you felt his cock pressing up against your boner, making your crave him even a completely different way.

"Really?" You teased. "Can you blame me?" He rolled his eyes.

You could feel his hands leaving your hips towards your ass. You smiled at the feeling, loving whenever his hands ran all over your body. His hands fully cupped your ass, giving it a light squeeze.

"I am simply just a man with everyone's dream girl. Who is also naked. It's really human nature, baby." "Seems like we should do something about that. Wouldn't want you to perish in agony."

He chuckled lightly before his lips began to fall all over his face. His lips first pressed against your forehead lingeringly. With his hands on your ass, he gently rocked your back and forth against him. You could feel the side of his cock brushing against your pussy lips, occasionally the tip of his cock hitting your clit. That would send jolts of pleasure and excitement running through your part.

Even though the actions were starting to become more sexual, his kisses remained innocent. His lips moved from your forehead to the side of your nose, then your cheeks. He couldn't fight off the smile that curled on his lips whenever he felt your cheeks rise from your own smile. His lips then moved to peck yours before trailing down your neck. That was when your own fingers gripped his hair, causing him to let a moan slip.

He pressed gently kisses against your neck until he felt your breathing hitch. Jackpot. That was when he began his full attack on your neck. He sucked a lovely bruise into the side of your neck. His teeth grazing against the spot which made your back arch and chest further press into his. God, he loved the feeling of your body against his.

It's been far too long since the two of you have been intimate like this.

He wanted to take his time with you, to cherish you. He wanted to make up for the weeks of late nights, missed moments shared together, and simple kisses before bed or work. Mingyu wouldn't necessarily say he was needy, but there was no doubt he needed you.

"Baby," you whispered out.

It was as if you were afraid if you spoke too loud, the moment would be lost. It was really just the two of you that seemed to exist.

There were other cabins around, but the best part you learning about being in the woods was the space between you and everyone else. You and Mingyu had the opportunity to just get lost together, with one another.

He let out a light hum before grudgingly moving away from your neck. He took a moment to marvel at his work. There certainly would be a hickey there come the morning. And the best part is that you wouldn't try to cover it. Mingyu was always proud whenever he got to show off his adoration to you, whether it be through something physical like a hickey or doing something to make you feel special.

"Yes, my love?" "Just fuck me already."

Mingyu's eyes widened in surprise. You had never been so direct with him in the moment. He knew he sometimes gets too carried away in the foreplay, edging you for what felt like hours. To him, he would edge you for however long as possible if it meant getting you wet and ready for him. He was always afraid of harming you.

"Baby, are you sure? I won't tease this time, I promise. I don't want to hurt you."

Your sweet Mingyu. You smiled at him reassuringly before both of your hands reached forward to take a hold of your face. With him looking into your eyes, you saw all the love he has for you. Your thumbs caressed his cheeks affectionately, maintaining eye contact so he knew you were serious before getting too lost in the moment.

"I am positive that I want you to fuck me into oblivion right here, right now in this hot tub. We've gone weeks without sex," you pouted. "I just want to feel so close to my boyfriend. Is that too much to ask?"

Fuck, he was down bad for you.

"Not at all, darling, but are you sure you're wet enough?" "Mingyu, you are the most attractive guy I've ever seen and I'm lucky to call you mine. I'm always wet around you." "Okay, needy baby."

Without needing much other persuasion, he moved your body so your pussy hovered over his cock. With your assistance though, you aligned his cock with your pussy. You both let out a groan at the relieving feeling of being so close to one another. His hands momentarily left your ass to hold onto your hips. He squeezed them once before helping you ease down onto him.

The water helped ease the stretch of Mingyu. It was a delicious stretch, but nevertheless, one you haven't experienced in a while. Mingyu's cock filled you up in the best way, with a slight curve of his cock fully pressing against your g-spot when he was all the way inside.

"You okay, darling?" "Perfect, Gyu."

He smiled in satisfaction before pressing a kiss to your temple. His sweet girl. All his.

His hips moved downwards before he began to settle into a deep, slow pace. He groaned at the feeling of your wet pussy. It was amazing to him that he had no hard time distinguishing the warm water from your own juices. He just knew you that well. Your walls hugged him, welcoming back home.

Your head tilted back slightly which gave Mingyu access to planting more hickies along your neck. His hips began to snap harder as he wanted to die you everything you've craved the past three weeks. He let his tongue run along the old hickey before settling on the new ones.

Moans were falling out of your lips subconsciously. You just couldn't control yourself nor did you want to. You wanted Mingyu, and quite frankly anyone, to hear how good he makes you feel. Your one hand remained on the back of his head, fingernails grazing along his scalp. Your other hand moved to rest on his bicep. You got wetter at the feeling of his arms flexing.

"Yeah, baby? You feel that good that you turn into my little girl?" "Yes, daddy," you whimpered. "Missed you, missed your cock." "God, I've missed you so fucking much."

His hips picked up the pace, going faster and harder. The tip of his cock kissed your cervix which had you already seeing stars.

He pulled back from your neck to watch you. He loved the way your fingers clung onto him. Your cheeks were almost permanently flushed with your eyelashes resting against your cheeks from your eyes fluttered shut. You never looked more beautiful than in his moment.

"Only one for me," he grunted out. "Only one I want and need."

Your heart was swelling from the sweet nothings he spoke to you. Even in the most sexual moments, Mingyu never wanted you to forget his love for you.

His own fingernails were beginning to dig into your skin, as your body trembled. You were lost in a trance from his thrusts were all you could do was moan out his name and other incoherent words. You were so fucked out, so far gone. All thanks to Mingyu.

He let out a sharp breath when he felt your pussy squeeze his cock. Your walls began to pulsate around him which caused him to throb more.

"Is my sweet girl close? Hmm? Do you need to cum?" "Please," you gasped out as one particular thrust felt like he slammed into your cervix.

I guess you were going to be the first thing Mingyu breaks on this trip. Not that you were complaining.

"Cum for me. Cum like the good girl I know you are."

Not needing to be told twice, you felt like you were exploding with euphoria. You came fast and hard, almost embarrassingly. It's just been so long without getting to be this vulnerable, this intimate with your boyfriend. One of you was just bound to break first. Your back arched and toes curled, body pressing all the way into Mingyu's to the point you two could just become one.

He let out a loud groan as he came along with you. Hot spurts of his cum filled your walls, throbbing to make sure every last drop filled you. You sighed in content at the feeling before your hold on him went limp and you buried your face into his neck. The two of you didn't dare move as you too much enjoyed the closeness of him at the moment. And Mingyu liked the idea of you not wasting a singular drop.

His fingers moved from your hips to run up and down your back comfortingly. Aftercare was so important to Mingyu, maybe even more important than sex itself.

"See? The woods aren't so bad, are they?"

[georgiapeach30513]

Your Mark On Me, Part 2

Summary: you realize just how mean Steve can really be.

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, dark, stalking, non con/dub con elements, groping, dirty talk, chasing (chase kink), slapping, humiliation, audience, degradation, pussy worship, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), cameras without knowledge, multiple orgasms, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 6.9K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*tattoo edit created by @randomagnes0210

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

“What is she doing now?” Bucky takes a long drag of his cigarette, while you obliviously bounce into your bedroom in your panties and oversized shirt. Nothing else. Your nipples are pressing up against white shirt, and Bucky chuckles as you lay down on your belly. “You were looking at her body weren’t you?”

“How do you expect me not to look at her body, your highness?” Your legs bend at the knee as you open up a text book, but your eyes quickly drift over to the bottle of pills before sitting back up to grab one. “She’s got a good set of tits.”

“You’re enjoying this too much,” Steve growls at him. Bucky knew his place. He’d keep an eye on you, but would never touch. It was par for the course with Bucky. No doubt his friend would watch you take Steve’s cock like a good girl eventually. It was just what had to happen.

“What is she doing? She putting one of those pills in her pretty little mouth?”

“She is,” Bucky tilts his head to the side as you root around in a drawer for something. “She’s looking in a drawer beside her bed, Stevie.”

“I’ll be there shortly,” he hangs up his phone, and snaps his finger at his driver. He needs to get there quickly. Let Bucky remove his eyes from whatever you were setting yourself up to do.

Stupid girl. Once he has you where he wants you, he’s going to have to talk to you about leaving your blinds and curtains open for any disgusting man to watch you. He’ll hold off for now. The thought of you putting on a show just for him excites him too much to go ahead and let you know this isn’t acceptable.

Pulling into your apartment complex, Steve’s lip curls up in disgust as he walks over to Bucky. “This isn’t good enough. She’s not even on campus. Who is supposed to be watching her?” Bucky turns to look at Steve with a blank face.

“She doesn’t seem to mind,” Bucky gives Steve a wink, and turns his back to your window. “She found what she was looking for.”

“What is it?” Steve’s face heats up in anger as he thinks about anything inside of you, but himself.

Bucky rolls his eyes, peeking at his friend. Steve’s jaw is pulsing, waiting on Bucky’s answer that wasn’t coming fast enough. If it wasn’t for you laying a pillow down, and straddling it, Steve would have already been marching into your room. “What the fuck does she have stuffed down her panties?”

“Easy, killer,” Bucky’s voice is so animated that Steve shoots a hard look at him, and then goes back to watching you. Timid. You weren’t even sure what to touch on your body. It made him want you that much more. Sheltered, and probably taught that sex was bad. Steve rolls his eyes thinking about how he was going to have to work so much harder. He loved a challenge.

“It took me awhile to find it,” Steve gives Bucky a mere split second of his attention, because you start to grind down on the pillow, and he sighs. “Don’t get hard standing beside me. This thing is kinda cute, it’s called a Cute Little Fucker.”

Steve finally looks at the picture of your toy that Bucky was able to procure. “That doesn’t go inside of her?” Of course you would pick out this cute little bug looking thing. He was falling even more. Sweet girl needed cute sex toys.

“No. It vibrates, and she grinds over it. Is she grinding yet, buddy?” Steve has to bite his tongue as your body goes on autopilot, and you bite on your lip so your roommate can’t hear your pretty sounds. The roommate…another thing Steve was going to have to deal with.

“What did the other toys look like?” Steve switches from foot to foot. Bucky’s eyes are amazing and he knows that his right hand man saw everything in your treasure chest.. Steve’s cock twitches, becoming too uncomfortable. “Bucky!”

“She only had one other one, and no, it wasn’t a penetrating toy. So unless your pretty little Dovey fucks her fingers, that pussy is indeed ready to mold to your cock.”

Steve grimaces as you halt abruptly. Pulling that green vibe out of your panties and staring at it. It is hardly even wet. Steve knows you can do better than that, he’s made it happen, “She didn’t even allow herself to come. My my, am I going to have to teach her?” It wasn’t even that for you. It was the fact that the stupid toy didn’t feel as good as his leg, and you curse yourself for even thinking that.

Steve was someone you weren’t ever going to see again. You are bound and determined that next semester you don't need Adderall. You’ll make sure to start studying earlier, and not rely on outside sources. And now? When you should be studying you are left wanting more. Imagining those tattooed fingers pumping into you, while you stare down at them.

Steve was dangerous, and bad news. You just had to stay away from him. That’s all. Hearing a knock on the door, you roll your eyes. You had to lock the door because you knew what you were going to need before studying.

Jumping up you unlock the door, and give your roommate a smile, “What the fuck is that?” Steve says too loud as some boy leans against your door. “This is absolutely unacceptable. If he touches her,” he pops his neck, glowering at the man that you share an apartment with. He’ll punish you for this later, but this…it won’t happen.

“Roommate, Jack Benjamin. It’s his junior year at the university. He’s studying law, and keeps his GPA at 3.9. Comes from a rich family. Looks like he pays more than half of the rent and all utilities. Well, daddy pays. Guess that’s why he’s the roommate.”

“I really don’t give a shit. He’s in that apartment with my girl. Get rid of him. I’ll pay for everything,” Steve turns to leave, but Bucky clears his throat. “What?”

“Jackie boy is not interested in your little birdie. In fact, I’d say he’d be more interested in you. So you still want me to kill me, or nah?” He flips his phone around, flashing a picture on his social media of Jack on a date.

“Fine. He can live today. If he touches her…Bucky! I want her unscathed and safe. People saw her with me, saw her juices on my leg. I have enemies, and those enemies would use my Dove to get to me. Make sure that doesn’t happen. And if she fucks herself, I need a phone call. I need to know if she’s riding her pillow, using a toy or her fingers, and I need to know if she says my name. I need to hear when the first time she thinks of me and comes.”

Steve gives you one last look. Watching to see if that boy looks at you or touches you, he doesn’t. He’s safe for today. “Steve?” His eyes don't leave you, but he nods to Bucky, letting him know he heard him. “What are your plans for this sweet Dove?”

“I want to break her and own her. I want her to miss the thought of me not around her, craving me with every fiber of her being, and then I’ll make her my wife. She’s perfect. She just doesn’t realize it yet. Let me know if she wears another skirt again. How much fun it’s going to be with that sweet one, she’s got a bit of a spark to her. She told me no. Have a fun night. Keep me updated, and if she takes another pill, let me know. I won’t have someone addicted to pills. Keep her safe.”

He’s satisfied, for now, with the way Jack didn’t touch you. His eyes didn’t wander over what was his. But when Jack points out that deep red bruise on your neck, you slap your hand over it. It’s too late. You were his, and one day you would realize it.

Why haven’t you left the building?

You glance up from your phone, looking all around you. There wasn’t a prickly feeling of being watching, and your friends had meandered out already. Leaving you to stare at your notes. Having to look back over them, just to see if you had gotten the answers correct on the test.

And now an unknown number was waiting on you. Looking through your planner, you didn’t have a scheduled lunch or anything. You rack your brain trying to think if there was someone that you promised coffee with or anything, but still nothing.

I am waiting, and I don’t like to wait.

Thinking it best to respond, you start typing up something when your phone alerts you of him typing more.

Dovey, if you don’t walk your pretty little ass out here I’m going to be angry.

Don’t defy me, little bird.

You roll your eyes, thinking you have seen the last of him. You didn’t need anymore pills. The last final had been taken, and now you had a bit of a break before next semester. He had to go. You had to tell him his services were no longer needed. But a scene at school is not what you need.

Gathering your things you walk towards the exit, and there he was. Legs spread out wide, his neck dripping in gold and diamonds. Each tattooed finger was enhanced by all the rings. Hearing everyone’s whispers, starts to make you lose a bit of self control, but all it was going to take was a quick talk. And everyone could quit their pointing.

Even though he had a beautiful face, he was dangerous. Sin and mischief seeped out of his pours. He had the air of Satan, and everyone on campus could feel it. They might not know exactly who he was, but they definitely had bought his product.

Standing in front of him, you look down at his eyes. Even standing you still feel small. Wanting to crawl up inside of yourself as your body was screaming out a warning of peril to come. “Steve, you can’t be here.”

“And why not, Dove? I see a few of my distributors here. They see you talking to the monster. Their filthy little eyes are casting up and down your body, and I don’t like it. I have to let them know that you are off limits. You get what you need directly from me. And I will gouge everyone’s eyes out that looks at you!” His voice gets a bit louder, and you put a hand on his shoulder, hopefully calming him.

“People look. It’s not that big of a deal. They,” your words catch in your throat as his eyes roam down the front of your body. Moving with the curves of you. Looking like he is trying to undress you in his mind. Tsking when he gets to your skirt. A big meaty hand slides up your thigh, and under your skirt, lifting it up. You quickly slap his hand away, knowing everybody can see what he’s doing.

“I’ll allow that one time,” my god why was he like this? What did he want, and why wouldn’t he leave you alone? “You make it a habit of wearing pleated skirts? It’s not so different from the first time I saw you.”

“Skirts and dresses are kind of my thing,” you shrug because it wasn’t a big deal, and he was making it one. He could only think of the easy access to you.

Steve’s eyes still roam over your form, itching to lift up your skirt because he needed to know, “What kind of panties do you have on?”

“What the fuck?” You screech, averting your eyes around you. They are still staring at you. Judging you for being around this man.

“Don’t talk with a filthy mouth out in public. Why do I make you so nervous?”

“You don’t,” you try to take a step back, but his hand goes back to your thigh, giving it a squeeze, and pulling you more in between his legs. The legs that you hadn’t stopped thinking about for the past five days.

Looking down at his thigh makes you want to shudder. Remembering euphoria coursing through your blood. Even the humiliation of Bucky watching kind of made it better. “Your pulse is rising. I bet if I cupped your pussy, it would be hot as hell.”

“Don’t you dare! There’s people around,” you press your thighs together, creating at least one barrier between Steve’s mitt sized hand, and your core.

“Didn’t stop you from making a mess on me less than a week ago. Had you whimpering, and leaking your pussy juice all over me. That whole club saw what a sloppy little cunt you had. I think even Bucky got a bit of a hard on. You made me so hard that I stroked my cock for an hour, pretending it was your pussy.”

“Steve,” you whisper, trying to pull his inky hand off you. Your thighs press closer together, and you swish them around. A slight bit of relief, but you are quaking. “I need to go.”

“No. You don’t. You’re finished for the semester. But I will allow you to go with me. Come on,” standing up, he pulls at your hand, and you look around at everyone staring at you. Fingers point, and you hear the whispers start. “Let’s go. Get in the car. I’m going to take you on a field trip.”

“But…what do you want with me?” Steve’s mouth turns up into an evil sneer, and one eyebrow sits high on his head. “I — I thought the payment for the pills was…you know.”

“Go on. Say it. I dare you. Tell me how you coming on my leg was not the best feeling in the world,” you stand in silence staring up at him. You are terrified, but you don’t want to react. He was playing games with you, and making a public scene in your space.

“Tell me how you ride your pillow every night, pretending it's my leg. Whispering my name as you refuse to allow yourself to come. I bet you got so much pent up tension in between your thighs, you can hardly sleep without waking up to your fingers playing with your clit.”

“Stop,” your voice cracks, and you can’t look at him anymore. The vein on your neck is visibly telling Steve just how fast your blood was pumping, but also how hard. What he wouldn’t give to just nibble on that vein. He knows he can make you kneel before him by biting down just a tiny bit. His mark from the weekend is already fading. He’s going to remedy that shortly.

“Dovey, didn’t your mama ever tell you not to get involved with a drug lord? You owe me,” he smiles, still dragging you along after him.

“But…I offered you money. You let me go.”

“You had finals. I couldn't keep you from them. And your money's no good with me.”

“Then what do you want?” He stops his movement, and turns to look at you. A faint glimmer of softness runs through his eyes as he steps right up to you. His hard chest pushes into yours.

The back of his knuckles brush over your cheek so sweetly. Relaxing you ever so slightly when your insides are ready to explode. Ready to burst right out in front of everyone. They are still staring, and you hate him for it. Moving his hand behind your head, his fingers tickle at the nape of your neck. Pulling you forward, and he takes a long, slow inhale before stopping right at the shell of your ear.

“I want you.”

“What?” Whimpering as you lean in closer to him. Your body craves him even though your foggy brain was crying for you to run away. Your body currently desperate for more attention than your brain was able to control.

“I only want you. Now, get in the car. We’re going on a field trip,” your body moves on its own accord as he gives your hand a little tug, leading you to his blacked out SUV, and you crawl into the back seat with him.

“Sam, take us to that playground on the edge of town. The one no one goes to. Tell Bucky to meet us there,” words didn’t make sense as you realize what you’re doing. In a fucking car with a fucking drug lord going to a fucking playground.

He said he wanted you. What did that even mean? He wanted to sacrifice a virgin? He wanted to take from you? Wait a minute…

“How did you know?”

“Hmm?” Steve looks up at you with a crooked grin, reaching into his pocket, he pulls out his phone, starting to look through it. You can’t tell if he’s ignoring you, or continuing to play his games.

“How did you know about the pillow?” He flips his phone around, showing you a video of you grinding on your pillow, and only one word on your lips. Steve. “You bastard!”

He turns up the volume without a response. Panting. Deep, labored moans, and you. Looking so frustrated as you grab out the toy, and toss it on the other side of the room, and then the softest moan of your name, followed by fuck. The camera tilts down enough to see Steve’s cream coat his thick fingers. Fucker was outside your window, masturbating, while you was fucking a pillow. And then had the audacity to show you his cum.

“What is wrong with you?” You don’t want to look at him, so you turn to look out the window. Fucking asshole. He lets out a guttural laugh, scooting over closer to you. You can’t escape him in this car. And every inch of him crowding you makes you feel like you're being squeezed by a boa constrictor.

“You didn’t like seeing what you did to me? Never mind the fact that you're denying yourself release. Seeing you hump that pillow every night was bound to make me hard. If you’re enjoying yourself, why can’t I?”

“Fuck your hand at home. Why are you…” Steve’s fingers dig into your cheeks, twisting your head to look back at him. Giving your cheeks a hard squeeze as his eyes narrow at you.

“I thought I told you not to talk with a filthy mouth.”

“You said in public,” you mumble. Your jaw burns as he squeezes even harder. The pressure drawing a line at being painful.

“What I really meant is do not use that filthy language, unless I’m inside of you.”

“You’ll never be inside me.”

“I won’t? Sam,” his driver reaches to the soundboard on the car, and the entire vehicle is filled with your whispered moans. And the repetition of you whispering his name. Over and over again. Asshole had found a way to get into your bedroom. Anger and embarrassment swirls inside of you. Realizing that he was watching everything you did in your alone time.

“Let’s face it, Dovey, you knew you fucked up by walking into that club. What you didn’t know was that I have a very specific taste, and your cherry is exactly what I want. You can’t even help yourself from envisioning me fucking you. And you better be glad. We’ve got a list. And if your roommate so much as kisses you, you’ll be gifted with his lips on your doorsteps. I don’t share. They can watch, but they’ll never get to touch you. Never even get to taste you unless they’re licking your juices off the floor.”

“What is wrong with you?” The alarms inside your body was ringing so loud, you couldn’t even think. They are begging and pleading for you to get out, but you’re immobile.

“Did your gut tell you not to come to see me?”

“Well, yeah, but….”

“And still you disregarded that voice, and showed up anyways. I’m an obsessive person, Dovey, and I always get what I want. And what I want right now is you,” you feel like teeth of a brutal animal trap has enclosed on you. Painful and scary. Trapped, and feeling like there was no way out.

“You just want to fuck me. Please, don’t…don’t touch me,” you finally feel fear as your body trembles. Flight or fight is a myth. You just quake with raw fear.

“I won’t be splitting your cunt open until you beg me to. Now get out of the fucking car,” struggling to move with how bad you are shaking, you scramble out of the car. Eyes twisting around and looking for a way out.

“Sam’s too fast, and Bucky is faster. You really want to run, Dovey, be my guest. I love going hunting for sweet little birds,” cocky son of a bitch stands there, crossing his arms over his chest, daring you to make a run for it. “I’m a reasonable man. But don’t test me.”

“I’m not begging.”

“You’re not. But I don’t have to stick my cock in your cunt to have some fun. Do go on. Run,” he cackles out a laugh when you sprint towards the woods. You may not get far, but you could hide. Hide long enough for him to leave.

Realizing just how stupid you are when Steve stomps into the woods. He doesn’t even run. While you're bolting, and hiding behind trees, he walks calmly. God, he’s going to kill you. He’s going to pull your panties down, and make you take him in front of Bucky and Sam. He promised he wouldn’t if you weren’t begging. Did he promise? You can’t even remember.

“Dovey, you’re breathing too hard,” his voice is too close. As long as his legs are in two strides he’d only be feet from him. Exhaling slowly, you stand up from your crouched position, and haul ass. Didn’t even care to look back. Just run.

Running through the thick woods and getting pelted in the face with branches is not how you want to spend your evening. You were supposed to go home, and crash on the bed. Finally resting after a week of hardly any sleep.

Twilight begins to turn to dark, and the woods get to where you can’t even see an inch in front of you. If you could you might not have tripped over a fucking limb. Trying to scramble up when a thick hand grabs your ankle. “And that’s about enough of that, little bird.”

Steve pulls you across the forest floor, and right to him. Leaning over you with a devil may care grin, “You can’t escape me. It’ll be in your best interest to remember that. It’ll help you out a lot.”

“What do you want?” You cry as Steve lifts you up, and carries you on his shoulder.

“I thought I made it clear, I want you.”

“I’m not begging, Steve. I’m not begging!” Tears invade your vision, knowing no matter how calm he is that he is pissed that you actually ran. “Steve, please, I’m not…”

“Please can be considered a form of begging. So if you could do my aching cock a favor and stop using it that would be great,” he grunts, readjusting his pants, and you cry harder. “Tears aren’t helping you either. I can’t wait to see your tears when you take my cock.”

“You sick fuck. Why are you — ow!” Screaming as heat radiates on your ass where Steve’s meaty hand slapped you. The sting races right to your core, and that only makes you want to cry more. What was he doing to you? And why did your body like it?

“Can you stop whining before I give you something to cry about?”

“That hurt!” A deep desire to start biting on whatever you could get of his backside comes over you, but that would be a terrible mistake.

“A second one will hurt more. Tell your cunt that’s throbbing on my shoulder how much it hurts. Dovey, I’m not the only sick fuck here. But if you say that word one more time, and my cock isn’t so deep inside of you that you feel it in your throat, you will have hell to pay. Have I made myself clear?”

He’s a sick asshole. Lighting your body on fire in ways that you didn’t think possible, and it thoroughly pisses you off. “Dove! Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes.”

“Next time, say, ‘Yes, sir,’' he chuckles, and you hate him more. How did you hate him so much, and yet your body yearns for him? You are the one with the brain, and you tell your body that you will never beg for Steve Rogers.

“Stay there,” he says, sitting you on a set of low jungle gym bars. Your feet dangle to the ground, and you give your eyes a moment to look around. Adjusting to the incoming darkness as Sam and Bucky flank either side of you two. “I believe I asked you a question earlier, and not only did you not answer, you denied me a chance to see for myself.”

“And what is that?” Steve’s hand goes up to your face, giving it a little tap as you glare up at him. “What was that for, your majesty?”

“Don’t be cute. I don’t like the attitude. Just because I have added you to my favorites lists doesn’t mean you get to act like a brat. Brats get punished, and next time the slap won’t be that soft.”

“You gonna hit my face like you did my a…butt?” Your mouth is wanting to talk back faster than your brain can compute, and you know that pushing him beyond his limits will only get you in trouble.

“No, you need a good spanking, and that wasn’t even one. You fucking ran from me. Me. Steve Rogers. I have two men with me. Darling, we’re retired military, you can’t escape us. I’m going to ask you one more time, and you better provide a satisfactory answer, or there will be hell to pay.”

The two of you stare at each other, and Steve smirks. You are cute, naive, and just the right amount of stubbornness that he loves. Breaking you is going to be so much more rewarding.

“What kind of panties do you have on?” Your face has to be staring at him with the most disdain that you have ever felt. He is a psycho.

“Why is that your business?” Wrong answer. He gives you another slap to your cheek, but this time there is much more force.

“Dovey, you’re mine. You belong to me. And when you walk around with skirts on around all those boys, you better be wearing the right panties. What do you have on?” Don’t answer. You tilt your chin up to the sky, and Steve has had enough.

Holding onto your legs, he forces you backwards. Leaving you hanging upside down, with your ass out, and panties on full display. Your hands hold firmly onto the bar, in fear of him letting you fall to ground, but the way he was staring hard at your nether regions has your pussy pulsing so hard.

“See. Now this just pisses me off. Do you see this?” He asks, looking at Sam and Bucky. “Do you fucking see this? Your ass is hanging out. Is that what you want? Those little boys to get a glimpse of your ass, and your fucking pussy lips?” Don’t answer. Just hang there. This will all be over soon.

“But do you see that?” You can hear the grin on his lips. Bucky and Sam are too close to you, and all three gaze at your exposed self. “Dovey, you are a sick fuck. You have made a mess of these panties, and we can see your pulse. So tell me how you don’t like this. Clenching around nothing. You wanted attention with these panties, well we’re giving it to you, princess,” his voice gets louder. Or is he getting closer?

“Steve, don’t!” You screech as his finger hooks under the gusset of your panties. The two of you mewl when his finger touches your drenched folds. It was less than a second, but you can feel it throughout your whole body.

“Step…back,” he struggles to get out. Waiting long enough for his men to step aside before exposing your tight little hole. “My God, I believe I see heaven.”

“Steve, stop.”

“I can’t.”

“I’m not begging.”

“And I’m not touching,” you whimper as he bends down closer. His heated breath on your core sends chill bumps all over your body. He inhales deeply, moving over your center, moaning again. “It seriously is heaven. I bet the taste is divine.”

“No!” Your body finally reacts. He is distracted enough that you’re able to drop down, and you scoot back on the ground. “Stop. I wasn’t begging.”

“My tongue licking up your slit, and tasting that delicious honey was not me penetrating you,” you shake your head, unable to look at him anymore. “Fine. Take ‘em off.”

“What?”

“Take the fucking panties off, and get in the goddamn car. I’ll take you home. But…I want a peek of that pussy. No fabric, just the puss.”

“Steve, can you not leave me alone?”

“No. I’m addicted. And you’re my drug. Take off the panties, and hand them to me. When we get in the car, I want to see your pussy that is crying for me. It’s what I deserve. She’s wet for me,” shivers drift through your body as you stare up at him. He was serious.

“And then you’ll leave me alone,” he shakes his head no, and you feel so defeated.

“Sweetheart, we were able to get cameras, and mics in your bedroom, do you not think I could just stare at your pussy while you sleep? Wouldn’t you rather be awake? It’s your fucking choice. But I still want the fucking panties,” he spins on his heels, walking to the car. Pitching a fit, while your brain and cunt are at war with one another.

“He’s meaner than you think,” Bucky warns, walking towards his bike. “I’d do as he says. Steve is more stubborn than you. And either way, he’s not going to stop.”

“He is giving you a choice,” Sam tilts his head towards the vehicle and taps at the gun on his hip. “I’ll give you a moment of privacy.”

Your chest heaves as you look at Sam and then the car. Steve was kind enough to leave the door open, but gave you no choice to retreat. A choice? A choice ot what? Give him your panties so he can gawk at your panties? Or a choice to be punished while he got harder at your paint? You didn’t understand what his game was, or what he even wanted. Besides you, and that would not happen.

“He doesn’t like to wait,” Sam groans at you, and you start to slowly walk to the blacked out SUV. Looking into the car at Steve who is fuming.

“Get in, and take your fucking panties off before I pull them off you myself,” don’t respond. Just do as he says. He doesn’t even look at you, until you close the door to the vehicle.

Lifting your ass off the seat, you slide your panties off, and put the soiled fabric in Steve’s hand and he smirks. His fingers rub over your slick that coats the fabric. Lifting off and strings of your arousal coats his fingers, before starting to pick up your skirt. “You know what else I want. Put your back on the door, and spread your legs. Give me a glimpse of that delectable pussy.”

“Steve, please…”

“Are you begging? You want me to take that cherry right here?” You shake your no. Feeling your lip start to tremble. “Put your back on the door, and lift your fucking skirt. I want to see what is mine.”

“It’s not yours.”

“But you are. She’s part of you, so she is my pussy,” you whisper no, but Steve scoots closer. Grabbing your knee with one hand, and spreading you further apart. His other hand goes under your skirt, and when he comes into contact with your weeping cunt, your eyes flutter. It is like fire on your skin as he roams through your slit.

“Yeah. You’re mine. And so is this,” his hand on your leg pulls you back enough for him to sink one finger down into your core, and your eyes roll in the back of your head. The sweetest little whimpers on your lips. “Oh…Dovey, she is a tight one. You really are a virgin, huh?”

“Y-y-yeah,” you sob. You couldn’t hide the pleasure you were getting from this, and he wasn’t doing much.

“I checked your drawer, I don’t want you to have toys that penetrate you. This hole right here, along with your ass, and your mouth belong to me,” he curls his finger, pumping into you a few times before you grab his wrist. Trying to pull him out from between your legs, but it was like tugging on a tree.

“Why are you denying yourself an orgasm? Even the other night you stopped before you fully came.”

“Steve, it’s too much. Stop stop stop,” pulling his hand out of your center, he brings it up to your lips. Painting your pout with your own juices like it was lipgloss before popping the finger into his mouth.

Moaning at your taste with a delighted grin, “Best thing I’ve put in my mouth. That is before I suck on your clit. Now, lean on the door, and let me see my pussy.”

“Why me?”

“Because I want you. Quit your fucking stalling before I make you ride the whole way to your apartment with three fingers in your cunt,” you couldn’t get out. Steve would assume to just take what he thought was his.

You take a deep calming breath as you spin to the side. Your ass squeaks on the leather from your arousal that had oozed onto the seat, but he doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t utter not one word until you situate your legs further apart. Lifting up your skirt and Steve just stares. Letting out a deep moan, and you yelp.

“What?”

“Steve…you’re…” it’s the first time you have fully looked upon his manhood. You could see his heartbeat in his pants and his cock begs for something to fuck.

“Yeah, I’m fucking hard as a rock. These pants are uncomfortable. But how can I not get hard staring at that work of art? No, it truly is a slice of heaven. Let me taste you,” you shake your head no, trying to cover yourself back up, but Steve gives your legs a quick pull.

Your head goes back to the seat, and his face hovers right over your wide spread pussy. “Steve, she’s a damn virgin.”

“Oh my god,” you whine as Sam gets into the car.

“Better get used to it, sweetheart. Steve is a horny man, and when he wants you, or wants to just look at you, he will.”

“Shh, I’m staring at the face of God,” your eyes roll in the back of your head with his breath alone. He isn’t even touching you, and you are without a doubt a puddle. One that is dripping onto his expensive leather seats.

“It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. She won’t let me taste it, Samual. Dovey, just let me have one lick. Just one swipe from the back of your pussy all the way to that cute little button. Oh my god, Dovey, she is throbbing and swollen. She wants me to nibble on her. Can I?”

“No,” you nod your head yes because that sounded amazing. That pesky brain is still trying to save your soul from the devil.

“I don’t really fucking care,” just as he promised his tongue swipes up your slit. Ending at your clit where he kitten licks it. Flicking his tongue up and down before his lips circle around it, and he gives it a gentle suck. When he hears you moan out his name, he sucks harder. Adding a bit of pressure with his teeth, and your body convulses.

Screaming out his name like a cursed prayer. Lifting off the seat. Your legs try to suffocate him, but Steve would gladly die between your thighs. Your fingers try to cling onto every surface to no avail. Seeing stars when he sucks so hard you black out. Your body limp for a few seconds before you sit up in the seat.

Staring down at Steve who was worried about one thing and one thing only, he wanted to kill you on orgasms. Digging his teeth in again, he lightly scrapes down the swollen nub, and you scream out again. Hitting on his back, but it didn’t matter, Steve would have you in whatever way he wanted.

You buck your hips, flailing around, but nothing mattered. Nothing helped. He just wants you to feel blinding pleasure. And you are. Pleasure so deep into your soul that you feel as if you’re floating. The audience of Sam only adds to your pleasure.

It doesn’t matter if you are wiggling in the seat, kicking, hitting or screaming, Steve doesn’t stop. You can’t even breathe, and Steve continues playing with your sensitive bean. And then…he sinks only finger into your cunt, and you start to speak in another language. Taken to another plane of sin.

“She is sensitive, buddy. I guess the last time she got off was your leg,” Sam’s deep brown eyes look into the mirror at his friend. “Steve, you're going to make her pass out. How many times does she need to come?”

His voice steadily gets louder trying to talk over your noises, but Steve can’t listen. He is drowning in your juices. His oasis. Slurping up your leaking pussy, “Steve! That is enough!”

He pulls off your clit with a pop, and wipes your essence off his beard. Staring down at your sprawled out self. Your clit engorged in pleasure, and you panting like a bitch in heat. “Try and tell me no again, Dovey. We’re here. Walk your sloppy little self up to your room. I’ll be waiting to make sure you get home okay.”

“You’re mean,” your voice is weak. Smoky and worn by the amount of times you had came.

“Yeah, and you got off, and enjoyed it. Don’t ignore my calls again. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes…sir,” you straighten yourself out as much as you can, and you hobble into your apartment. Ready to strip out of your clothes, and pass out. Getting to your room, you’re ready to scream.

In the middle of your bed is a mound of new “suitable” panties. There are hundreds of them in all colors, and materials. Looking out your window, you spot him. Pants swollen, as he stands there with an evil grin beside Bucky.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, and you don’t have to look to know it’s him. You had a shadow called Bucky who clearly is always around when you’re not with Steve.

I got you a present, Dovey. You’ll find the others are gone. You only get to be a slut with me. Now, I’ll let you put on a fashion show for me. Or let you grind on a pillow again. What do you say?

Walking over to your curtains, you close them. They could stand out there all night, but they weren’t going to watch you.

Good girl

You need a moment. There is anger and frustration drifting into every part of you. Grabbing up a wad of those stupid panties, you sling them to the floor. Over and over again, until your bed is finally clean, and another ping.

I thought you’d like my gift. That hurts you want to just throw them on the floor.

“Stop watching me!” You twist around your room violently trying to locate the cameras and mics.

Quit looking, Dovey. You won’t find them. And if you, I’ll just have them replaced. And I won’t stop. Now get your ass into bed. You’re gonna need the sleep. Now that I’ve tasted you, you’ll never get rid of me. Goodnight, Dovey.

Say it back or I come up there to you.

Goodnight, sir.

Steve smiles, nodding his head at Bucky. “She won’t be masturbating tonight. But, I’ll watch from my phone since she finally closed her curtains. Don’t lose sight of her. I’ve only just begun.”

“You’re so mean,” you whimper, covering your entire body with your blanket. You know you’ll never escape him. And if you do, he’ll just drag you right back to him. But that doesn’t mean you won’t try. And you will. You’ll continue to try, and just maybe this little bird will get out of the cage she put herself in.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @missusbarnes-rogers @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @theinheriteddutchess @annaallicce @feyfantome @jesevans @tittittoee @bananapiedreams @onclouds999 @darkserenity24 @abbatoirablaze @ashychangeling 

[ambrosiagoldfish]

hi! can i request headcanons of Adam x Male Angel! Reader who is sweet, kind and never curses? preferly sfw and nsfw but if u don't write smut for Male Reader, that's fine!

hope u have a Nice day <3

Adam x Kind Angel Reader HC’s

Warnings: General Adam TW’s, NSFW in latter half of post, He/Him pronouns with Male Genitalia. Slight Degradation/dirty talk. Fluff + Smut

Request Box: Open

Word Count: 820

A/n: thank you so much for the request! I had a lot of fun with this one! I did make it on the shorter side but that’s only because it’s quite difficult to make Headcanon’s 1000+ words without other characters but nonetheless, I hope you enjoy! Also I decided to make this little header thing for fics! I’ve seen a few others do it and the GIF’s I normally use are becoming a hassle to find. Let me know if you guys like it!

SFW

Oh boy, this relationship really is a match that could only be made in heaven. No one would have expected Adam to date a man who is the complete opposite of him. If anything, people expected someone like him or even Lute!! But you? They never could have predicted that.

But what can you do, opposites do attract.

You’re always being so kind to him, telling him he looks handsome, helping him with any and all work he might have to do, and on top of it you bring him gifts and trinkets! Not to mention all the delicious treats you get him that are almost as sweet as you.

And to be honest, this really messes with Adam, cause you’re literally so sweet and thoughtful but he doesn’t have anything to give you in return besides sex. At least that’s what he thinks but in reality he gives you so much more than he gives himself credit for.

He plays you songs on the guitar, takes you out to fancy restaurants, and over all treats you with love and affection than any other has. But even if none of that was true, you don’t do anything and everything for him because you want something in return. You love Adam completely unconditionally.

The no cursing thing is something that genuinely gets on his nerves. Cause like, he could never. This man has the mouth of a sailor and the delicacy of a bull in a china shop. Which is one of the traits you love about him, that he says what he wants. But also you’re just like “Sir, this is not what The Father intended-“

“Neither was putting my dick in another guys ass but look, I’m still here bitch!”

And it especially bugs Adam, if instead of cursing, you replace swears with other words. Like the other day you stubbed your toe when landing on ground and Adam had fully expected for you to do what he does, which is scream the loudest swear and be pissed off at everyone for 20 minutes. But instead….

“OW Fudging chocolate chip-“

“JUST SAY FUCK”

So, ever since that day, Adam has sworn to one day take your ‘cursing virginity’, at least that’s what he calls it. And he try’s so hard to do so, which is a slight bit of trouble cause he doesn’t want to like, be a complete douche to you.

So until he figures out a way to get you to curse, he’s pretty stumped at the moment. But still, he absolutely adores you.

NSFW

Oh Boy x2

Everything I said previously still stands if not double the amount. This man wants to do the👏Most👏Unholiest👏Things👏To👏You👏

Loves to see your kind and sweet personality slowly crumble because of his cock.

‘Who knew you could be such a slut?’

He loves that your personality carries over during sex, you give him everything you’ve got and then some. You want to do your best for him after all.

Speaking of which, if you worship him in any way that man is cumming IMMEDIATELY. He really just wants to feel like he’s above everyone else, and Surprise surprise, he has a praise and you being the, oh so thoughtful person you are, you make sure to completely indulge that aspect of him.

You babble so much about how good his cock feels hitting your prostate over and over again. How well he’s making you feel like like the Good Boy he is. It really gets it him going.

Remember how I said he’s trying to make you lose your ‘Cursing Virginity’? Yeah well, this is how. He is SO determined to get you to spill out just one swear while he goes to town on you. Is it the most holy thing he should do? No. But how could he not fuck your brains out till you break your own moral code?

He tries so hard too. He has yet to get you there but he has come close. When he had you in a mating press, legs over his shoulders, your ankle’s lightly hitting the base of his wings with each thrust.. You couldn’t stop begging for him to cum inside you as you came for the Xth time in a row.

“Please Adam! P-Please! Fu~“ you cut yourself off with a hand to your mouth.

Adam looked at you with his signature grin, his hips not stopping their movements to pump himself in and out of you. “Was you about to say something babe?”

You held your hand against your mouth shaking your head ‘no’ clearly trying to make it seem like you weren’t about to drop the f bomb.

“Mhm, right~ let’s see if I can pry some other ‘naughty’ fuxkin’ words out of ya!” He laughs a wicked laugh as he switches the position so that he’s somehow even more atop of you. Leaving you a completely, moaning, helpless mess for him to dominate >:)

[sohnric]

to. my first – k. sunwoo

pairing: kim sunwoo x fem! reader

genre: 90s au. twenty-five twenty-one au, friends to lovers au, exes to lovers au. fluff, slice of life, coming of age, suggestive. highschool au, football player! sunwoo, baker! sunwoo. cheerleader! reader. first love au. what we call wet cat sunwoo. meeting your ex after years and falling back in love with him kind of thing.

warnings: alcohol, throwing up, swearing, reader has hair long enough for a ponytail, a heated make out session or two that alludes to them having sex but no actual smut happens, finger sucking, the reader moping around a lot, no plot just vibes.

word count: 31k

a/n: inspired by me telling @/csenke that sunwoo is my first love. why am i so soft for this man i truly dont know... thank you best friend for betaing this monster i appreciate it a LOT! also thank you to sana @/heemingyu and izzy @/from-izzy for the help on some parts of the fic and brainstorming the ending w me, as well as beta reading small parts of this.

spin-off to my fic millennium bug because sunwoo deserves love too! the reader from eric's fic is referenced to as MB!Y/N in this. you don't have to read the first fic to understand this one, but there are a lot of references in this and i highly encourage you to do so!

they say you never forget about your first love. you guess that's true. (or– a story about reckless love, first kisses, growing up, ambition, and inevitably, failure.)

August 2007

The laughter all around is electric. The music playing in the background makes you sway and hum to the melody, the familiar tunes making your insides light up with a different sense of nostalgia when you remember the times in which these songs were popular. Your tired limbs make you cut your way through the room and sit down on a vacant chair, not really caring about where your designated seat was anymore, just needing to rest for a second before you either throw up from exhaustion or faint from how tired your legs are from all the dancing. Paying a quick goodbye to Juyeon on the dance floor, you heave out a satisfied sigh when your bottom meets the cushioned seat of the chair, eyes zeroing on the filled dance floor.

Feeling a cramp in your foot, you scowl and lean down, ready to do the thing you’ve been desiring for at least the last three hours– if not the whole day. Hands playing with the strap on your heel, you make the shoe come undone before you slip the uncomfortable footwear off your feet, relaxing when your naked limbs meet with the cold tile on the floor. 

You don’t really know who in their right mind would have a wedding in the middle of the summer heat, but you guess there are people that are out of their mind like that– and those people are your friends from high school. 

Everything about coming back to your hometown has made you feel unpleasantly nostalgic so far– the streets haven’t changed a bit, your childhood home still looks just the same, furniture unmoved, and the air is still as crisp, yet humid as it always was during late August. It’s only tonight that finally makes the weird bittersweetness turn into joy. You’re back home with everyone you’ve ever known, with everyone who’s made you into who you are today. You’re seeing all their faces for the first time in ages– and frankly, it does feel good. 

The satisfaction in your veins stays for a bit until a figure dressed in a suit comes into your point of view. It’s not like you’re seeing him for the first time tonight– he’s a big character, even when it comes to this wedding, so it’s hard to not notice him– but as his legs take him towards you in a wobbly nature, it dawns on you that now is maybe finally the time you get to talk to him. Don’t get me wrong– there are no hard feelings between the two of you (or at least you don’t have any, you’re not so sure about his side of the story). It’s just that seeing him dressed in a tux, tie now a little loose around his neck, the twinkle in his eye still present as back when you were both a lot younger, there’s still a strong aftertaste of your feelings towards him somewhere on the tip of your tongue. 

His walk is a little lopsided as he grins at you and takes a seat on the vacant chair next to yours, a huff of air escaping his lungs as his body relaxes, limbs falling freely down the sides of his chair. His cheeks are a little red and his hair a little messy– there’s only so much to explain his composure apart from all the dancing he’s done.

“So I see that you still can’t handle your liquor well even after all those years?” you joke, making the boy turn his head to face you, an amused twinkle appearing in his smile. 

His eyes are still the same chocolate orbs you know, still the same soft look adorning them whenever he feels particularly ecstatic. He shrugs, jolting his bottom lip out before he sighs to himself. “Well, it’s not every day you are the best man at your best friend’s and your sister’s wedding,” he muses, shrugging. 

Laughing at his remark, once again taking in the state of the room– Juyeon, Hyunjae and Haknyeon each dancing somewhere in the middle of the dance floor, MB!Y/N’s friends from university twirling her around in the right corner, Eric staring at the bride with a warm gaze in his eyes, sipping on a drink while resting against one of the tables, clearly taking a mental image to look at every time he feels the need to– it all feels kind of surreal. Who would’ve thought all those years ago that it would end like this?

Well, Eric Sohn, for starters. He confessed to everyone in his wedding speech that he knew he wanted to marry MB!Y/N the moment she kissed him on New Year’s Eve of 1999– him being this cheesy was only acceptable because it was his own wedding. In any other circumstance, Sunwoo wouldn’t be able to let his best friend live this down.

It’s not like you ever expected those two to break up– it just makes you a little in awe at how fast time is passing. “It’s kinda crazy, isn’t it?” you hum, squinting at the flood of people on the dance floor.

“It is,” Sunwoo hums, tonguing the inside of his cheek, “still can’t believe they’re dating. Hell, they’re getting married right now…” 

“You can’t believe your sister is dating your best friend?” you laugh, wiping the sweat that’s accumulated off your forehead, the mist appearing there both because of your reckless dancing and because of the unbearable heat of the August night.

“That, and also the other way around,” he hisses, “but I guess they’re both so insufferable that they go well together, so I don’t know why I’m still so surprised.”

Chuckling at his comment– you guess the bond he has with his sister is never to be changed, no matter how many years have passed– you watch as he shrugs off his suit jacket and throws it over the back of his chair, starting to roll up his sleeves to expose his forearms. Eyes following his motions, you clear your throat and force yourself to look back into his eyes when he asks you a question. “What about you, though? Are you enjoying yourself?”

“I am,” you nod, no hesitation, “it’s really nice to see all of you after so long. Plus, I’m having a lot of fun, so that’s a nice bonus." 

“I can see that,” he grins, “by the way you sat on my seat just now, and all–” 

“Oh god– I’m sorry,” you gasp, suddenly feeling a little silly. And here you thought he went up to you because he wanted to catch up… “I’ll move, if–”

The sound of Sunwoo’s hearty laugh lands into your ear– it’s just the same as it was back when you were both high schoolers, making your heart soar– before he shakes his head and urges you to stay with a motion of his hand, putting his large palm on your thigh to keep you from moving. “No, no, don’t be stupid,” he says, “I don’t mind. I was looking for you anyway, so you just made it easier for me by sitting here, actually.”

He was looking for you, resonates in your head, the familiar buzzing in your fingertips alerting you of the effect he has on you even tonight. God, maybe you were the one that had too much to drink…

“You were?” you ask, tone of voice light– not at all suspicious. 

Sunwoo nods, shrugging. “Well, I guess we have a lot of catching up to do,” he smiles, “don’t we?” 

Eyes meeting his, the contact feels electrifying to the point it makes your head spin when you look at him, taking in his glossy eyes and the flush of his cheeks. They’re less round than when you two were young, but his eyes still stay the same– big, round and tender.

He reminds you a lot of the time when you saw him drunk for the first time.

to. my first time getting drunk

April 1999

Havoc rings in his ears like jingle bells, the world around him spinning like he’s on a rollercoaster. His head feels like someone is installing a nail to the middle of his skull and when he looks around, Lee Donghyuck is staring at him with a glass bottle of soju in his hand, urging him to drink more.

Sunwoo doesn’t have it in him to do much else other than shake his head. It feels like he forgot all his vocabulary, not a single word coming out of his mouth or to the awake parts of his brain, watery eyes begging his classmate to not make him drink any more. 

What seemed like a good idea just a few moments ago– see, it’s prohibited to drink on school trips, but Kim Sunwoo is infamous for loving to break the rules– now seems like the worst idea of his whole entire life. He feels so sick he thinks he’s going to die of alcohol poisoning, but the laughter around keeps painfully reminding him that he hasn’t even had that much to drink in the first place. The amount of times he’s been called a lightweight this night is making his pride severely hurt, and even graciously intoxicated, he can’t bear the sting this is putting on his already hurt ego. 

“Come on, birthday boy! I’m sure you can handle one more,” Donghyuck urges, uncurling Sunwoo’s fist and placing the bottle into his grasp, making the poor boy wince and battle back tears. 

He knows he’s being embarrassing. The choice between not dying and not humiliating himself is rather a difficult one, but the moment he finally finishes the crossword puzzle in his brain and puts the glass opening against his lips, the bottle is thankfully taken out of his grasp and discarded somewhere where his eyes can’t reach.

“You’re done for the night, Kim Sunwoo,” you haul at him, shaking your head at the poor boy, “you’re done.”

Sunwoo wants to open his mouth and protest, maybe ask you what you mean, but the moment his lips unseal, he gets a sniff of the alcohol in the air and suddenly, he feels like throwing up. Your eyes lock with his, a pleading– maybe a warning– mirrors in Sunwoo’s gaze, and even though he’s so drunk he feels like he crossed dimensions, he applauds your ability to know just what he means by a single look into his eyes.

“Oh, Christ–” you curse, hurried steps moving to the corner of the room, swiftly grabbing the trash can and running back towards your friend sitting criss-cross applesauce on the floor. 

You make it just in time to catch the contains of Sunwoo’s stomach into the trash can, making the boy insanely grateful– he’s wearing the new shoes his mum got him for his birthday, and god knows he’d hate it if he ruined them the very first day he can show them off to his football friends.

The whole world disappears into the background as he throws up while making a mental promise to himself to never drink again. The only thing keeping him from losing it all is the feeling of your hand on his back, comforting rubs grounding him back to earth. Giggles fill his ears and he’s sure everyone’s laughing at him– even in his drunken state, he can recognise the shame filling his veins– but before he can open his mouth to argue with his classmates, the sound of your angry voice makes him seal his lips close and listen to the scolding you offer to his teammates for making him drink so much.

“You know he has a weak stomach, Donghyuck!” you huff and puff, your hand still drawing comforting circles to Sunwoo’s back as his head stays stuck in the bucket, not having enough energy to even straighten his spine. 

“It’s his birthday! Come on, don’t be so tight-arsed.”

“Well, do you want him to die on his day of birth? That’s not very cool of you,” you growl, the shuffle of your clothing and a pained “ow” escaping his friend’s lips hinting to Sunwoo that you just kicked the right wing to his shin. 

Deserved, Sunwoo thinks.

“Can somebody get Eric? I’m pretty sure he’s in Daehwi’s room with MB!Y/N, Minjeong and Jihoon,” you hum, waiting for anyone to follow your orders. 

Sunwoo blinks in and out of it, his consciousness giving up on him with the incredible pain in his temples. He feels incredibly grateful to have someone like you by his side not only now, but all the time. The two of you have gotten incredibly closer ever since he joined the football team– and with you being one of the cheerleaders, you’re always somehow around. Not that he’s complaining, of course. It seems like you are one of the more responsible ones in this room right now, and god knows Sunwoo needs a bit of guidance on his day to day ventures.

“Do you think you’ll be sick again?” you ask, voice soft in his ear. “Or can I take the trash can off you now?”

Sunwoo thinks for a bit, then he nods and lets go of the plastic bucket. He doesn’t know what happens to it after and nor does he care– it seems like the alcohol in his veins took away all his sense of object permanence. He can barely see anything in the yellow lights of the room (which makes him believe he is going blind from all the alcohol he’s had– don’t tell him it’s just his eyes getting hazy and confused with how much his head is spinning), but he’s sure he can feel you wiping his tear-stained cheeks (he wasn’t crying– his eyes were just watering) and pulling him closer to you when he threatens to fall over even in his seated position. Your hand comes up to play with his hair when you let him rest his head against your shoulder, your actions making him sleepy, eyes closing on themselves like a threat for him to fall asleep any second.

Something about the care, the loyal protectiveness you take over the boy makes his heart soften. He breaths in your scent, trying his hardest to focus on your presence and not the weird feeling in his stomach– although it’s settled a bit since he threw up, it’s still a little uneasy– and before he knows it, there’s a tap on his shoulder waking him up from the haze.

Sunwoo mourns, not really wanting to move from his position, too comfortable with your fingers threading through his hair– but much to his dismay, your soft voice appears in his ear, telling him he has to get up. “Can you walk on your own? We’re gonna get you back to your room,” you hum, your lips accidentally brushing against the shell of his ear, making everything in him light on fire. He’s not really sure if this is the effect alcohol has on you, but if it is, he’s certain he never wants to drink again.

“Sunwoo?” you call, the way you say his name suddenly all too angelic in his ears– but still not enough for him to answer. “Alright,” you sigh after the dreadful silence, taking charge of the situation, moving away from the boy and offering him your hands to hold on to as you try to get him on his feet, “I guess we’re gonna find out.”

His fingers intertwine with yours as he stares up at you, his vision blurry, but still sharp enough to make out your tired face. The sight is enough to make Sunwoo worry– is he being too much? Are you mad at him? Do you not want to be his friend anymore? – but before he has a chance to address any of those concerns, he’s being tugged up to his feet. Not ready for the weight of his own body, his knees buckle and refuse to work. There is a pair of hands clutching his arm automatically– yours– as another pair holds him up from behind by his waist. 

He’s not really sure who was his other savior, but by the silent curse heard from behind, he thinks he recognises Eric’s voice. 

“I know I shouldn’t have left him alone,” he hears his best friend say, voice full of frustration.

“You really shouldn’t have,” he hears you sigh, making the poor boy scowl.

It still feels like he can’t really speak, exhaustion taking a toll on him, but he follows the orders as you tell him to get on his best friend’s back– Eric’s crouching figure ready for the impact, waiting for the taller one to clutch onto him so he can carry him into the safety of their shared room. The operation has to be quick if they don’t want to be caught by their teachers while walking through the hall, and somehow, in the distant crevices of his brain, Sunwoo recognises that and he makes no battle to resist, doing exactly as he’s told.

“Man, you’re heavy,” he hears Eric huff under him as the poor boy carries him through the hall. “You’re gonna have a killer hangover tomorrow, dude…”

Sunwoo’s head rests against his friend’s shoulder, hands carelessly hanging around Eric’s neck. He tries to blink away the sleep, desiring to stay awake, when your concerned face appears in his vision and suddenly, he feels insanely guilty.

“I’m sorry,” the two words escape his mouth with no trouble– the first words to appear in his vocabulary after the few minutes of him being surprisingly mute– only to hear his friend chuckle.

“Well, you’re going to be dying from a headache tomorrow, not us,” Eric hums, “so I think you have to apologize to future you first.”

Sunwoo pouts, bangs falling into his eyes making him blink in a desperate try to get the stray hairs away, attempting to make eye contact with your side profile. “Are you mad at me?” he asks, voice a little groggy from all the screaming and drinking.

“What?” you ask, genuinely surprised to hear his question. Your face morphs into a confused expression, the one where a wrinkle appears in between your brows– and it takes everything in Sunwoo not to poke the little line with his pointer finger in utter endearance.

“Are you… mad…?” he asks again, watching as your face morphs into amusement.

“No,” you shake your head, a hint of a laugh in your tone. “Why?”

“You look grumpy.”

“I’m just worried,” you note.

“About?” Sunwoo asks, his intelligence morphing into a one of a 10-year old with the influence the alcohol has on him. 

“You,” you say, sighing and shaking your head as you move two steps in front of Eric and open the door to their room, closing it swiftly behind you and following the duo towards Sunwoo’s bed. 

The younger one drops the boy into the cushions of his bed with an exaggerated sigh (that might as well be real, for all we know– god knows you wouldn’t be able to carry Sunwoo on your own), and the comfort of the pillow around his head is enough to make Sunwoo’s eyes start closing again, sleep threatening to take over his consciousness.

There’s some noise interrupting his sleep, though, making the boy tear his tired eyes open to notice you walking through the room. Sunwoo finds Eric putting a glass of water onto his bedside table and watches as you put a trash can beside his bed, hushed whispers sent Eric’s way resonating in the quiet room. “Make sure that he sleeps on his side so if he throws up again, he doesn’t choke–”

“Y/N?” he calls your name, watching as you look at him with careful eyes.

“Hm?”

“Are you leaving?” he asks, maybe a little foolishly.

“Yes.”

The boy nods at your reaction, showing his acknowledgement. In the drunken state of his mind, he knows he doesn’t particularly want you to leave, but he’s also fairly certain, finding the rational thought in the sober part of his brain, that you have to leave, and so he lets it go. The drunken state of his mind wins, though, when the next sentence foolishly escapes his lips.

“Please don’t stop liking me after this,” he mumbles, words slurring.

“What?” you ask– confused because you either don’t fully comprehend what he’s trying to say, or because you truly just couldn’t hear what words escaped his mouth– but when you don’t get a clarification, you just nod at the boy, seemingly desperate to keep him happy tonight. “Okay, I won’t.”

“You won’t stop liking me?” he asks, a big pout playing with his features.

“No.”

“Okay.”

That seems to put his mind at ease– enough to make his brain finally turn off and lead him to sleep. He doesn’t really remember what he dreamt of that night, but the last memory he has of the night of his 18th birthday is that you promised to not stop liking him after seeing him a drunken mess, and how he so deeply wished you’ll continue to like him forever.

It hits him only a few months later that the thing he so desperately hoped for that night was that you’ll keep liking him even at his worst– that he didn’t drive you away and one day, maybe, you’ll like him more than just a friend.

to. my first detention

September 1999

Sunwoo was never the one to break the rules. 

Well, if you don’t count that one time he skipped class just because he got too bored of it in the middle of the lecture. And it wasn’t even that hard either– he just asked if he could go to the bathroom, and when he got the approval, he stood up and left, never returning. 

Or if you don’t count that one time he climbed up the ladder on the side of the school building with his friend Juyeon and had his lunch there. Or that one time he cheated on an exam and made a scene about it when accused of the act, leading the professor into letting him off just that one time. 

Sunwoo is usually too lazy to break the rules. Some days, paradoxically, his laziness is what leads him to break the rules. He can’t really help it, even if he tried.

The one time he does break the rules, expecting to be punished by his teacher for coming late to class, it’s not even his fault in the first place. Morning football practice ran late and he didn’t feel like rushing to change out of his practice clothing– see, the laziness is playing a part in this as well– so when he arrived into his Physics lecture, the clock was already 15 minutes after the bell rang for the first period.

Much to his surprise, his teacher didn’t even punish him. “Well, you’re an athlete, so it’s understandable,” he heard, making his lips stretch out into a subtle smile. If he knew that joining the football club would lead him to have such privileges, he would’ve done it a long time ago. 

How did he still end up in detention, you may ask? Well, that’s a funny question.

Your flushed face appears in the doorway of the classroom exactly 2 minutes after Sunwoo does, breathing heavily and wiping the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand. Your hair tied up in a ponytail is loose now, stray hairs falling out to frame your face, your school uniform wrinkly, shirt not tucked in properly, as you spit out endless apologies to your teacher about being late for lecture.

“I’m really, really sorry about being late,” you bow, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you look around the classroom with apologetic eyes, “I had cheerleading practice and it ran a bit late, so I didn’t have enough time to–”

“Sit, Ms Y/L/N,” the teacher hums, “if you have time to do any other activities other than being in class, I’m sure you’ll have time to stay after class for detention, am I right?”

“Sir, I really–”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

Now, are you seeing the difference in the way you and Sunwoo were treated? That’s right. It may not look like it, because the young football player rarely puts effort into anything (other than the game), but when something angers him, it’s quite difficult for him to keep it in. 

And that’s exactly why his ass is currently sitting in one of the chairs of his classroom, legs spread wide as he looks around the silent room in boredom. Accusing his teacher for being sexist and holding to double standards wasn’t the best idea, but it was enough to get him into detention alongside you. 

His eyes get caught up with something– someone– sitting two desks in front of him, one to the right, scribbling their homework into their notebook. At least you are using up the detention time for important and useful things, he thinks. That won’t stop him from interrupting you in your task, though. Even better– it encourages him.

Tearing out a piece of paper from his notebook, Sunwoo fishes for a pen in one of his pockets, writing a short note that says: Wanna get ramen after this? before he crumbles the paper into a small ball. After watching the teacher for a few seconds, making sure that he’s not going to get caught, he throws the ball in your direction, aiming straight for your head.

He misses. Well, that’s why he plays football and not volleyball– he doesn’t have good aim when it comes to his hands– but nonetheless, the note ends up hitting your shoulder before it bounces off and falls to the ground.

Confused, you look around before you find Sunwoo staring at you, pointing towards the paper on the ground with a grin on his face. You sigh, sending a telepathic signal of ‘you’re acting like a child again,’ straight into his brain before you reach for the paper ball and take it into your hands, fingers uncurling the thin material and reading out the words he’s sent to you.

Only a few seconds pass before you throw the ball back to him– he catches it in his hands, earning an approving look from you at his strangely fast reflexes, making a sense of victory flow gracefully through his veins. A frown settles on his face when he reads out your reply, though.

can’t. I promised Aeri I’ll hang out with her later. we’re going for frozen yogurt.

Sunwoo furrows his brows. Oh how he hates to be denied. 

I can join!! i could use some froyo

You send a tired look to him over your shoulder when you receive the message, rolling your eyes at his comment. It’s obvious that Sunwoo can’t join– he knows it by the look in your eyes. Hell, he knew he wasn’t invited even before he asked– he just likes to see your frustration. Something about the way your face scrunches up, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth, amuses him in a way he can’t really describe.

you could’ve gotten yours instead of staying in detention. what was that about, by the way?? I’ve never seen anyone willingly do detention… you must be out of your mind

The message makes him chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. His motives are clear– well, at least in his brain. If he stays in detention, he can see you for some more. Which means he can hang out with you more (or look at the back of your head from afar, whichever you grace him with on that particular day). And he wants to spend as much time with you as he can, well, because… because he just likes to do so. Why?

Don’t ask. He hasn’t thought it out that far yet.

I just like things to be fair. I came late too :(( 

He writes back instead. Fairness is the last thing he cares about if the world is in his favor. If the world is unfair to you, though– that’s another thing. 

weirdo.

You write back. The pen is already in his hand, ink getting hotter as he masters up a reply, when the loud voice of his teacher cuts through the classroom and announces that detention is over and they’re all dismissed. Something in Sunwoo’s stomach drops. 

Sighing, he puts the note back into his pocket (and will forget to throw it out. Then, he’ll find it there after a few days, unravel the ball and read over the letters with a smile. He won’t throw it out then either– he’ll crumble it back and keep it there until the paper wears out and forms into litter in the pocket of his pants). Gathering his things into his bag, he swings the backpack over one of his shoulders before catching up with you, already halfway out of the classroom. You seem to be in a rush to meet Aeri– he understands– but there’s still one more thing he needs to do.

Clearing his throat, Sunwoo approaches you from the back. “Hey!”

“Hi,” you hum, adjusting the bag on your shoulder. “Aeri’s waiting for me outside, so I gotta–”

“Wait, I– I have something for you,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. Why does he suddenly feel so nervous? The words his sister said to him yesterday keep resonating in his head, and although he knows it’s not true and he doesn’t see you in that way, his stomach churns and he clutches his hand into a fist by his side, a desperate act to ground himself.

“What?” you look at him, eyebrows furrowed, all confused. Sunwoo’s not the one to give gifts– sure, he pays for your meals sometimes, but that’s only because you share them and he comes to the logical conclusion that he eats more of the portion than you do anyways, so it’s only fair.

“Um… well, my sister… she was making those bracelets yesterday and she made me do it with her, because she’s really annoying when she wants to be,” he mumbles, fishing for the bracelet in the front pocket of his backpack, lying straight through his teeth. 

You stare at him with wide eyes, completely unreadable to Sunwoo. Well, he already said it, so he may as well just dig his hole even deeper. The yarn is soft under his touch when he twirls the bracelet in his fingertips, eyes focusing on the shades of red and pink, suddenly too afraid to face you and look you in the eyes. “And, uh… we made too many, so I brought you one, because… you’re my friend, and all,” he mumbles, chewing the inside of his cheek.

His sneakers are oh so interesting to look at in the few seconds he spends waiting for your reply. He feels like he’s in court, waiting for his ordeal– anxiety making him bounce on the tips of his feet, his other hand clutching the strap of his backpack for dear life. 

“Did you make that?” you ask, tone of voice genuinely appreciative.

“Yeah,” he shrugs. 

He did not.

“That’s– that’s really cute,” you gasp, making the boy finally look up. When he finds that the words are addressed to the bracelet his sister made, not his act of kindness, something inside of him gets irritated, but the little devil in his chest leaves just as fast when you meet his eye and take the yarn from his hands, examining the red and pink knots from a closer distance.

“Yeah,” he hums, not really knowing what to say.

“Can you tie it for me?” you ask, offering the bracelet back to the boy and smiling at him, waiting for him to circle it around your wrist and secure it to place with a knot. It’s a bit long, the ends sticking out to different directions, but Sunwoo admits that it does look quite nice against your skin, and that if he forgets about the fact that it was his sister who actually made the bracelet (even though he begged her to teach him for approximately two hours, going as far as bribing her with his snacks), he does feel quite proud of the gesture.

There’s something possessive about the bracelet, he thinks. It's like a sign to everyone that you have someone who cares about you enough to tie it around your wrist. It’s like saying hey, this is my best friend! No one else enjoys their company enough to make a bracelet to prove it, but me. It’s like a silent translation of the heart’s calling: this person is mine. They’re not allowed to take this off until I die.

Sunwoo feels a bit giddy as he watches you admire the yarn around your wrist. You sport the same expression as Eric did when he forced a bracelet out of his sister yesterday– eyes glimmering, the widest grin on your features. While he may be sure what the face meant when it came to his best friend (although he tries to close his eyes from the obvious crush he has on his sister), he’s not quite certain when it comes to you.

In his mind, you smile like this at everyone. You’re just that kind of person.

But oh does he wish you mirror Eric’s feelings on the matter. Oh does he hope you tell everyone he is the one who gave the bracelet to you– he hopes you boost in front of your friends, tell them just how much you like it.

…maybe his sister was right. 

Maybe the bracelet had a deeper intention.

August 2007

“So,” Sunwoo hums, taking a salty chip from the bowl settled in the middle of the table, looking over at you with a curious gaze, “how have you been?” he asks, chewing as he waits for you to answer.

It’s an easy question, one would think– and it’s true, it’s not the most difficult thing to answer. But considering the circumstances, the fact that you and Kim Sunwoo haven’t seen each other since you both graduated from high school, despite telling each other you’ll stay in contact and see each other whenever you have the chance to– it gets a little bit more difficult. It’s been 6 years, many things have changed, you had your fair share of good things happening to you as well as the bad. 

What do you tell Sunwoo, though– a friend you lost somewhere along the way, much like everyone? Well, you can’t really blame him for growing distant with you– although to this day, you don’t really know the reasoning. He was the first one to leave, and although you always wished him the best, nobody can really blame you for doing your part at flying out of your nest. Everyone has to experience the outside world before they can find their place in it, no? 

It’s not your fault that you weren’t as successful as you wanted to be… 

“Well, you know,” you shrug, “so and so. Many things happened, but I guess I’m doing fine,” you conclude, nodding to yourself.

The face Sunwoo offers you is one of concern. You recognise that this is not really what he wanted to hear– not really what he expected you to say. The both of you were always ambitious, shooting for the stars, so it would be nice to know that at least one of you finally chased down the dreams you’ve had since you were young.

“What about you?” you ask quickly, shielding yourself from more interrogation. “How did football go?” 

That has Sunwoo chuckling, averting his gaze. He takes a sip of the soda placed on his table before he turns to you again and answers the question, shrugging to himself. “Didn’t really go as I planned,” he says, nodding to himself. “Guess I lost many years on it, but oh well. Can’t really take it back now.”

“Don’t say that,” you hum, chewing on the inside of your cheek. The answer he offered you was not surprising to you– not that you didn’t believe in his abilities, not at all. It’s just that by now, if Sunwoo’s dreams came true, you’d be aware. You’d hear about him everywhere. You’d see him on the news, in the paper… It seems like your friend has disappeared out of the spotlight he always wanted even sooner than he could walk straight into the stardom. You wouldn’t say you were keeping tabs on him, no– you just cared enough to try to look for him in every place you could. “It wasn’t lost years. You did what you loved, and you tried your best.”

“I know,” he says, scrunching up his nose in an adorable manner before he sighs, “I’m just moping around. Besides, I quite like the life I’ve had since coming back home,” he admits.

“You do?” you ask, eyes glimmering in the lights. Something in you shifts– moves to a more comfortable place at the information. It’s strange that hearing that he’s doing fine still makes you feel at peace. It’s been years– you really shouldn’t care by now.

“I do,” he nods, “I work at Juyeon’s father’s bakery now. I didn’t really expect to like it, but there’s something charming about it, I’ll have you know,” Sunwoo says, taking another handful of chips into his hand before feeding them to himself, seemingly trying to chase down the tipsiness in his bloodstream.

That drags out a giggle out of you, shaking your head at the news. “I wouldn’t take you for a bakery kind of guy,” you say, “I can’t really imagine you in the kitchen.”

“Well, times change, Y/N-ie,” the nickname slips out between his lips like a punch to your gut, his teasing tone dragging nails to you in a weird sense of nostalgia, “I’m the best baker in town right now. People go crazy over my cinnamon rolls,” he nods, pointing a finger to you as if to prove his point.

“I find that hard to believe,” you squint at him, shaking your head in disbelief.

“You’ll have to come and find out,” he says, the sentence so casual that the contrast of his following statement has your heart drop a little, “well, if you’re… staying around for a bit, of course…”

Humming, watching as his eyes soften at the shift in your composure, you nod in agreement. “I’ll make sure to add that to my plan.”

Sunwoo nods in acknowledgement. Swallowing down the chips that were in his mouth, he dusts off his hands off the excess salt and licks his lips before speaking up again, seemingly collecting his thoughts. “So you’re staying around for a while?” he asks, a little bit cautious. 

He doesn’t really know how sensitive this topic is for you– you don’t even know if he’s aware of your previous whereabouts, if he knows where you left off to and why– but Sunwoo stays caring, no matter the amount of time you spent not talking, no matter the big canyon that slowly formed in between the two of you in the years of no contact. It’s something you’ve always appreciated about him. He liked joking around, but he always knew where the boundaries laid, always knew when the joke went too far. He tried hard to avoid poking around too much, but he always made sure to apologize if he realized he hurt someone’s feelings. He’s a spark of violent fire, but he’s also tamed like a fireplace when he wants to be– warm, comfortable. It’s easy to feel like it’s back in the old times when you’re around him. It’s easy to pretend neither of you ever really left.

“I am,” you nod. “Things… didn’t really work out for me either, y’know,” you chuckle, the dry kind that shows just how bitter you are about the matter. “I went to New York with the internship my aunt arranged for me in KBS, but I guess I just… wasn’t really good enough to keep full-time.”

“Don’t say that,” Sunwoo mirrors your previous statement, an honest attempt at comforting you.

“No, it’s okay,” you laugh, “I stayed abroad for a while, tried hard, but sometimes, it’s just not meant to be, y’know? So after I realized my jobs weren’t making me enough money for a decent living in the States, I came back home,” you say, mouth forming a pout as you speak– the kind that shows you’re lost in thought, making up a plan as you go, “I’ll help my parents out for a while and then look for something to do here, I think.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound so bad,” Sunwoo says, offering you a soft smile. “I… I guess I’d say it’s good to have you back,” he admits, averting his gaze as he says the words, “ever since I came home, it felt like something was missing, so… anyways, you’ll figure it out, so don’t worry too much.”

“Thanks, Sunwoo,” you hum, pressing your lips into a tight smile, heart squeezing a little at his sincerity. It’s strange– it’s been years, having lived through countless different situations that were supposed to change the both of you, shift you into two completely different people– but somehow, Sunwoo still feels the same. Almost as if you two never left. Almost as if you two never drifted apart and instead spent your early twenties side-by-side, just like you always planned on doing.

The boy looks at you from the corner of his eye, a content smile spreading on his lips. You feel the atmosphere shifting, the situation tensing up a bit, and with the discomfort the image of him leaving you alone brings you, the words slip out of your lips with a bit too much ease.

“Would you want to… dance with me? I wanna see if you still remember what I taught you,” you grin, watching as the playful expression mirrors on your friend’s face, a nod eliciting from him that makes you quickly put your shoes back on and get ready for the dancefloor.

“Of course,” he hums, standing up swiftly and wiping his hands on the fabric of his pants before outstretching a hand for you, tone of voice sweet like honey, “my lady?”

to. my first dance

November 1999

“Who are you asking to the dance?” you question one afternoon, the two of you behind the closed doors of his room. There aren’t many times where Sunwoo gets to invite you over– mostly because he’s too shy to have someone around when his sister is home, and his sister isn’t known to have that many friends to hang out with– so the times where he finds you settled on top of the sheets of his bed, he treasures deeply.

“I dunno,” he mumbles, looking up at you from the comfort of his rug, shrugging, “I don’t really think I’m going, actually.”

“Oh?” you gasp, pouting at the boy. “Why not?”

“I don’t really have anyone to go with,” he says. What he really means is– you’re going with someone else. Sunwoo doesn’t really see himself dancing with anyone else but you– that’s just that kind of bond you two have in his mind. Your friendship is dear to Sunwoo, and the boy can’t think of anyone else he’d like to spend the evening with. 

When his sister argued with him with logical words, telling him that he treasures his friendship with Eric just the same, but wouldn’t invite him to the prom, he just scoffed at her. MB!Y/N doesn’t know anything. He doesn’t treasure Eric in the same way, no matter the fact that they pretty much grew up together. Some things just don’t feel the same way with Eric as they do with you. He feels closer to you, in a way.

“Well, that’s bullshit,” you scoff, shaking your head at your friend, “you’re handsome. And you play football, which is every girl’s dream. I bet anyone would go with you if you just asked,” you propose, pointing a finger at the boy, not really noticing the way he blinks at hearing the words ‘you’re handsome’ coming out of your mouth in regards to him. 

Do you find him handsome? Is that your subjective opinion or are you just objectively saying what you’ve heard in the cheerleader changing rooms? 

He’d like to know. Just out of curiosity.

Sunwoo scratches the back of his neck in nerves, now fully seated and facing you. It’s hard to meet your eye when he talks, his words coming out muffled. “I can’t dance anyway, so it would be no fun for everyone involved.”

And watching you dance with his classmate Shotaro would be no fun either. See, it would be easy for Sunwoo to be okay with the fact that you were going to the prom with someone older (which is practically impossible, since you’re both seniors, just for the record…). He would understand your point, then. It’s easy to be okay with defeat when your opponent has the upper hand, but when you put two men against each other that are hierarchically equal to each other, much like Sunwoo and Shotaro, the poor boy finds it hard to not feel as insecure in his position. 

But with Shotaro being the same age as him and the same amount of popular as him, Sunwoo can’t help but compare himself to his classmate. What does Shotaro have that Sunwoo doesn’t? Is it his smile? Should Sunwoo smile more…? 

It doesn’t really help his case that you’re going to the prom with the head of the dance team. Sunwoo can’t dance… Is it the fact that he can’t dance?

Or are you just going to the prom with Shotaro because he was the one to ask you to go? Sunwoo can’t help but wonder– would you have gone with him, had he the balls and asked you first? 

“What do you mean, you can’t dance?” you say, eyeing the male. 

“Just… never learned to, I guess,” Sunwoo shrugs, “but it doesn’t really matter, since I’m not going, so…”

“But you have to go,” you pout, putting the boy in a difficult position. He doesn’t know if you’re aware of the fact, but your pleading look does wonders to his decision making. He’d commit arson if you asked him to with those glimmers in your eyes. He’d kill for you. Or die for you. Both, depending on the situation. He’d do anything.

“Why?”

“It won’t be fun if you’re not there,” you say, sighing. Your face looks so genuine Sunwoo almost believes it. It makes his heart squeeze and contemplate his decision. “I know Donghyuck is gonna spike the punch, and there are gonna be fireworks,” you hum, chewing on the inside of your cheek, “and this is our senior prom, Sunwoo… you have to come.”

The words resonate in his brain, making him even more hesitant about his decision. This is your senior prom– the last dance of your high school years. The last opportunity for Sunwoo to enjoy this time with you and his friends, the last chance he gets at seeing you in a pretty gown, all dolled up and smiling from the sneaky sips of alcohol you’ll get with everyone outside of the school gym. The last opportunity for Sunwoo to dance with you, his best friend, and possibly the last time he’ll ever enjoy his evening with the rest of his football team before all of them have to study in order for them to take their CSAT.

Maybe you’re right. Maybe he should go. 

“I’ll think about it, I guess…” he mumbles, watching as your face morphs.

“You guess?” you scoff, glaring at him. “You’ll go or I’ll personally come to your house and drag you there by your hair, you get me, Kim Sunwoo?” you threaten him, having the boy laugh at your outburst. You’re really adorable when you tease him, Sunwoo thinks. 

“Got it, chief,” he says, offering you a playful look as he salutes and lays back down onto the carpet, eyes pressed to the ceiling. “Don’t expect me to dance, though, because I refuse to embarrass myself. I have quite the reputation to uphold, you see.”

Sunwoo hears you chuckle, the noise of his sheets tousling landing into his ears. Before he has a chance to look at you and see what you’re doing, his view of the white wall above is shielded with the sight of your face, hair framing your cheeks as you stare down at him and put out your hands, waiting for him to take them and get up to a seated position. 

“What?” he asks, genuinely confused.

“I’m gonna teach you, come on,” you call him with a motion of your hand, arms still outstretched and waiting.

“Huh?” he squints, watching as you roll your eyes in frustration.

“I’ll teach you how to dance, Sunwoo,” you snicker, watching as the boy slowly takes your hands and lets you drag him up from where he’s laying on his electric blue rug, “so you don’t embarrass yourself.”

That has Sunwoo stuttering, his figure freezing even when you manage to somehow make him stand up in the middle of his room. A million different exclamation marks appear all over his brain, warning him from the upcoming events, but he has no way of denying your proposition now, no matter how hard he tries. “No- it’s- you don’t have to, I’ll just-”

“Okay, so,” you say, dismissing all his previous attempts at stopping you from your quest, “first, you put your hand here,” you order.

The skin of your fingertips touches Sunwoo’s hand, making the boy’s heart stummer in his chest. You drag his palm towards your waist, placing it on the curve of your body. He swears he feels electricity flowing through the contact, warmth radiating off your skin even though it’s shielded by the fabric of your favorite shirt. He gulps as you put your hand on his shoulder, his eyes carefully following your movements, examining every slightest shift of your composure. 

“And then you hold my hand with your other hand,” you instruct, but move to do it yourself when the boy doesn’t seem to have it in him to reach for your palm himself. 

Your fingers interlock with his, making the boy chew on his bottom lip in a sudden flash of nerves. You’re standing so close he can smell your perfume, the scent making his head spin and feel lightheaded. If you made him turn in this moment, he’s sure he’d fall over, weak legs barely holding him up in your close proximity. 

“Sunwoo?” you ask, making the boy gulp before he hums in acknowledgement.

“You have to look into my eyes when you slow dance,” you laugh, the sound soft and airy, but enough to have his stomach feel all weird, like he’s about to throw up. Still, he forces himself to look into your eyes, instantly feeling like you’re hypnotizing him. (He’s convinced he’d jump out of his window right in this moment if you asked him to.)

“Okay,” he nods, standing still, maintaining eye contact. His body is stiff, muscles tense as you just stand there for a moment. Sunwoo battles his inner fight and doesn’t look at any other features of your face– he has a weird obsession with staring at your lips whenever you talk to him lately. He feels like a weirdo every time he catches himself doing it, so he tries to get rid of the bad habit as much as he can.

“Now, you just… kind of sway to the beat,” you say. The boy nods, but his body stays unmoving.

“There’s… there’s no music playing,” he gets out, watching as you chuckle, your lips stretching out into an adorable grin.

“Right,” you nod, sighing, “well, I’ll just… let me just…” you mumble before you start humming a tune– one that makes Sunwoo laugh from how ridiculous it sounds, the notes so unfamiliar to him he’s sure you’re making it up as you go. Before he knows it, you start moving, making him mirror your actions. 

It’s not as difficult as he thought it was, he thinks. You stare at him, all encouraging, as you sway from one foot to the other, nodding at him when you see that he’s following your lead well. Dancing with you suddenly feels like the easiest thing in the world, it feels like he was born to have you in his arms, in the middle of his room as you hum an unfamiliar song to him. He thinks going to the dance won’t be so bad– not if he gets to dance with you there for at least one more time.

“Doing well,” you smile, making the boy feel all warm on the inside. A feeling of victory flashes over him for a mere second. He beams in your considerate words, feels fuzzy under your warm gaze. He feels like he just won the lottery. It’s kind of silly, if he really thinks about it.

A boyish grin appears on his face, having Sunwoo shaking his head at how both ridiculous and over the moon he feels right now. The stream of hums coming out of your throat cuts off for a second as you talk to him with an instructing tone, a warm gaze pressed into his features. “So you can either do this, or you can…” the hand that was holding his suddenly untangles itself from between his fingertips (and Sunwoo’s momentarily glad, because his palm was getting quite sweaty– although he admits that it does feel empty now that you’re not holding it), before you place his other hand on your waist as well. 

Something about the pose makes Sunwoo feel strangely intimate, a little bit bashful under your gaze. It only intensifies when your hands go up and entangle behind his neck, bringing you two even closer than before. The proximity has him blushing, red cheeks bringing heat to his face. He prays you don’t mention it– he really doesn’t know if he would be able to talk himself out of this one.

“Or you can do it like this,” you say before you lead the boy again, bodies swaying to an imaginary rhythm. You’re not even humming this time, having Sunwoo follow your movements in complete silence, his aimless movements mirroring your own. He’s surprised he hasn’t stepped on your foot yet when you decide to quickly teach him how to waltz (while also mumbling something about this dance being performed with the previous hand placement). He follows your orders– step forward, close, then another step backwards– and before he knows it, you’re leading him into a gentle turn, rising and falling in a ¾ count.

He’s getting lost in your voice– the softest “1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3,” helping him to stay in rhythm– before he’s pulled out of his trance as he feels your fingers playing with the hair on his nape, entangling yourself into his black locks. The motion has him look back up to your eyes (that have been previously glued to your feet, making sure he’s not stepping on your socked limbs), surprised when he sees you staring at him with a sweet smile playing with your lips.

Halting your movements for a bit, you let out a giggle and take him by surprise when your hand reaches up towards his bangs, ruffling his hair as he still holds you around your waist, the two of you almost hugging in his room. “See? Not that hard. You’re a born natural.”

His heart feels like it skipped a beat, a weird sense of panic enclosing around his chest. He doesn’t know what it is, not really knowing how to name the feeling, but it has him nervously smiling and urging him to escape you– escape your touch, escape your scent, your voice and the way you smile at him like you may feel the slightest ounce of the things he does for you, but refuses to accept on most days.

Rushed movements make him break apart from your grasp, quick breathing making him feel like he might spiral. 

“Hey! We weren’t done yet!” you call after him when he runs towards the door of his room. 

Not looking around, the boy gulps and nervously calls back to you, facing the door. “I’ll be back! I just have to pee!”

The door to his bathroom closes behind him with a loud shut. The boy doesn’t aim for the toilet– instead, he walks over to the sink, turning on the tap and splashing his face with ice cold water. When he’s done, feeling a bit less heated up, he looks up and stares at his face in the mirror. He gives himself some time to collect his thoughts, to hopefully let go of his foolishness.

How many more times will he have to remind himself that he only sees you as a friend?

to. my first date

January 2000

The snow crunches under his sneakers and makes Sunwoo slip on the cold surface– no wonder his mother screamed at him for not wearing his winter shoes before he went out with his friends. He bets it would be way less difficult to walk in the whiteness of the ground if he had more grip in the soles of his shoes, but oh well– he’s not really good at making clever decisions half the time. Nobody can really be surprised.

Somewhere along the way between the moment he’s interrogated his sister about the reason for her bad mood and the moment where he purposefully let her with his best friend at the top of the hill with no way out (he had a hunch the two of them had some things to talk about, from both of their uneasy demeanours for the last day), he realizes he lost both his sister and his best friend, and while he’s quite certain Eric can find his way home just fine, Sunwoo shivers at the thought of not bringing his sister home to his mother. He’s not quite sure he’d survive that. 

The quest of finding you both begins the moment the friend group reaches the top of the hill. Given his sister’s impulsiveness, she could’ve ran away from home, and that’s not what he wants to deal with on such a pretty winter day.

Sunwoo finds his plan being successful the moment he reaches the hot chocolate stand. The victory he feels after finding his younger sister alive and healthy is quickly overshadowed with the sight of his best friend’s face close to hers, very clearly going in for a kiss. He thinks he has to do something before he is permanently scarred with the image of them two making out right in front of his eyes as he gathers some of the icy texture into his hands and makes a ball, aiming straight at the head of his best friend.

The snow hits the both of them, right in the middle where their faces are supposed to meet. It’s not quite where Sunwoo was aiming, but he figures it’s good enough– it stopped his sister and his friend in the act, and that’s all he really cares about at this moment.

“Eric Sohn, what the fuck do you think you’re doing with my sister?” Sunwoo hollers, watching as his childhood friend takes off and leaves his sister alone on the bench to watch the conflict. The rest of the group follows with laughter as Sunwoo gathers more snow, tailing Eric and making sure the boy is punished for whatever he’s been doing.

It’s not like he disapproves. Not at all, actually. He just thinks it’s fun to mess with him a little.

“I didn’t mean to! Hey!” Eric cries out over his shoulder, trying his best to escape the frostbite. Karma is not on his side as he trips over something and falls to the ground, efficiently helping Sunwoo and the rest of their circle to corner the poor youngest, snow hailed on his limp figure. 

One would think the group of them were making a snowman with how they’re rolling the poor boy around in the snow. Juyeon and Donghyuck make sure there’s not a hint of skin unhidden by the ice, making Eric mourn and kick around– he’s left helpless, though, outpowered and outnumbered by his peers. If anyone unknowing was watching the scene, Sunwoo is sure he’d be framed for bullying.

He thinks it’s quite deserved. Why? He’s not really sure why. He just has a hunch.

“Okay! Enough!” Eric mumbles, shaking his head when Donghyuck tries to fit snow into his mouth. “I’m sorry! It won’t happen again!” he says, eyes opening wide as MB!Y/N appears somewhere behind her older brother, a teasing pout settled on her face.

“It won’t?”

“MB!Y/N– I– Just help me..?” the boy pleads, making the rest of the group laugh and finally relax, easing the attack. Juyeon hums something about young love, making the rest of the guys roll their eyes on his unusual cheesiness, before Donghyuck taps his teammate’s shoulder, making sure he’s paying attention to him.

Sunwoo raises his eyebrows at him, waiting for what he has to say. “Look, isn’t that Y/N?”

There are a few ways to catch Sunwoo’s attention. First– you have to mention football. He could spend hours on the topic of who’s the best player– Ko Jongsoo or Ahn Junghwan? If anyone asked him to write an essay on it, he’s quite certain he’d do a great job explaining their techniques and goal statistics for numerous pages. Second– you have to mention food. He’s a big fan of junk food, but ever since his friend Juyeon introduced him to their family bakery, he’s been a big cinnamon roll enthusiast. And third– you have to mention Y/N. 

Just the mention of your name is enough for the boy to stand alert, suddenly all too knowing of his surroundings. He turns his head to look for you, catching sight of your figure dressed in your long coat, standing all alone at the bottom of the hill. There’s an almost bored-looking expression on your face, although Sunwoo thinks there’s a bit of disappointment behind your eyes, making a cloud shade your them and make them lose their usual glimmer. That alone has the boy frowning, and before Donghyuck can say anything more or try to gossip about your sudden arrival, Sunwoo takes off– trying his hardest not to slip on the snow in his sneakers as he runs down the hill and tries his hardest to get to you quickly.

“Y/N!” he calls for you, getting your attention. You turn to him with expecting eyes, watching as the boy runs towards you and does, indeed, slip on the snow.

He manages to save it. Doesn’t mean you didn’t see him falter, though. “Careful there,” you grin, making the boy mentally kick himself in the shin at being uncool in front of you.

Sunwoo glosses over the comment, ignoring the previous two seconds of his life. If he acts like he’s not embarrassed, it might as well come true. “What are you doing here? I thought you said you’re hanging out with someone else when I invited you on the phone today,” he says, curious to know why you changed your plans so suddenly.

There’s a hint of bitterness in your composure when you shrug, averting your gaze. “That fell through, and I didn’t wanna… I figured you’d be here, so I came…” you trail off, your half-assed explanation enough to bring the boy into an inner conflict– one part of him feels bad for you, his heart clenching when he takes notice of your stern gaze and the disappointed expression on your face, the other one foolishly happy that he got to see you today, that you went here looking for him.

“Oh,” he nods, not really sure if he should pray more information out of you. He tried to ask you about it when he called you this morning, twirling the landline on his finger nervously when he asked you if you wanted to go sledding with him and his friends. He even mentioned his sister tagging along to make sure you didn’t feel as awkward going– you wouldn’t be the only girl there! You’d get along with her well, he said, not really sure if he was lying or not. Either way, his sister does need her own friends… “Well–” he starts, not really sure where his own sentence is going, before you cut him off with a rushed out sentence, spoken so quickly Sunwoo barely registers it in that confused brain of his.

“Would you wanna go on a date with me?” you ask, eyes big as you stare into his. 

The question takes a few seconds to register in Sunwoo’s brain. He can physically feel the auditory waves entering his ears and converting themselves into electrical signals by the auditory system. The signals enter his left hemisphere– maybe he could point towards the area with his finger if you asked him to, the impact of the question so present in his mind– and then it decodes in the Wernicke’s area, slowly, but surely making more and more sense to him. The boy gulps at the invitation. He understands the question theoretically now, he’s registered it in his brain, but the practical implication of your preposition is still unclear– why in the hell would you ask him to go on a date with you?

“I…” he stutters, feeling heat rushing to his cheeks. He feels like a fool– he should’ve said yes a few seconds ago, when you first asked the question– but something inside of him is telling him that maybe his reaction is valid. No one expects their friend to randomly ask them out on the bottom of a snowy hill. Certainly not when he was 99% sure you liked someone else.

“Look, it’s- it’s good if you don’t want to, really, I just… I was supposed to go on a date with Shotaro today, but he never arrived, and I…” you nervously scratch your neck, once again averting your gaze from him, “I guess I was hoping you were in the mood to go out with me, since I got all ready and stuff…” you mumble, your tone of voice breaking something inside of him.

Oh. So you weren’t really asking him out. You just didn’t want to feel like a fool that got stood up. How stupid of Sunwoo to think you wanted to go on a date with him. The two of you were just friends, after all. Best friends.

And best friends are for cheering each other up. So despite feeling absolutely defeated, Sunwoo battles the weird feeling in his chest and puts on his best smile. “Of course! Don’t even mention it. Where… where did you wanna go?” he asks, watching as your face relaxes, shoulders falling back to their natural position.

“Are you in the mood for some ramen?” you ask, eyebrows rising in question.

“I’m always in the mood for some ramen,” he nods. He’s always in the mood for whatever you are.

“Great,” you nod, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“Great.”

“So… let’s go,” you say, nodding to yourself as you walk away from the hill, having your best friend tailing you, following you towards the ramen place in the center of the town.

There’s a bit of an awkward silence hanging over you as the two of you escape the sledding area. Sunwoo doesn’t even pay his goodbyes to his friends and his sister, but he trusts that Eric can get her home safely when the time comes to head back. The boy mentally curses out Shotaro for standing you up– how does he dare to ask you out and never arrive? He doesn’t care about the possible circumstances of his classmate’s absence. All he cares about is the saddened look on your face and the unusual quietness enveloping your aura. 

“Should I go kick his ass?” he asks, trying his hardest to make you feel better.

“It’s okay, Sunwoo,” you shake your head in disapproval, eyes pressed to the ground.

“Are you sure?” he asks again, not satisfied with your answer. “I’m quite good at fighting, contrary to popular belief, but if things go wrong, I know my friends would have my back,” he says, playfully punching the air.

The little play consisting of him kicking and punching an imaginary figure goes on for a while until he’s satisfied– meaning: until you’re left laughing at his overly exaggerated movements and grunts, shaking your head in disbelief at his boyish antics. Taking his hand in yours to make him stop with the play-fighting, you drag your now interlocked fingers towards your coat pocket, hiding his cold hand in the thick fabric.

Sunwoo’s heart beats fast at that, making him believe it’s going to run out of his chest any minute now– or make him go into cardiac arrest, either or– as he grows speechless, looking at you with big, surprised eyes. You don’t seem to put much meaning to your gesture, going as far as gently caressing your thumb over the back of his palm, his frozen skin growing hot at the contact. 

He’s never held hands with you before– if he doesn’t count the amount of times you dragged him around when the both of you were late for the shared cheerleading and football practice on Tuesday afternoons– and so the intimacy of the act makes him feel strangely weak in his knees. It’s hard for him to take his eyes off you, almost looking like a deer in the headlights to anyone watching you two right now. Sniffling from the cold, you shrug.

“It’s okay,” you smile, sending him a quick glance, “I didn’t really like him like that anyway. It just… feels a bit disappointing to get stood up, that’s all,” you nod.

Sunwoo nods at that too, something in him shifting. You don’t like Shotaro like that? When was this piece of information when he really needed it? (For like the last month, every time he couldn’t fall asleep because the thought of you marrying his classmate at one point in the future haunted him too much and made him want to poke the dance club leader’s eyes out?)

“I get it,” he says, walking along with you. Every time he feels the eyes of someone on you two, he feels his chest filling up with an unfamiliar sense of pride. Something about being seen with you as you’re all dolled up and holding his hand in your coat pocket makes him all giddy on the inside– no matter if this is a real date or not.

Because screw it, Kim Sunwoo is tired of reminding himself that he’s supposed to only see you as a friend. Because he doesn’t.

“I’ve never been on a date before, though, so you have to teach me all about that too,” he hums, tonguing the inside of his cheek. 

That has a giggle escaping your throat, another shake of your head in disbelief at his words. He doesn’t know what’s so funny, but he decides that as long as you’re laughing, he’s fine with feeling the tiniest bit of humiliation. He’d do anything to make you happy, he thinks. It’s a feeling stronger than him and he doesn’t know how to make it go away– he decided to stop battling it a long time ago.

“Just be yourself, Sunwoo,” you say, “that’s already perfect enough.”

Perfect. Sunwoo’s cheeks grow hot at that. He’s happy that it’s cold out– maybe he could blame his blushing on the weather. The boy isn’t so sure you know about the effect your words have on him. He’s always thought of you as perfect– flawless, funny, friendly, smart, kind and… and beautiful– but the adjective doesn’t quite seem fitting when he looks at himself in the mirror. He doesn’t believe you could hold him to such standards. He’s nothing special. God, he knows he’s not good enough for you– still, he keeps wishing he could be. 

“You look really pretty, by the way,” he hears himself say, the words escaping his mouth before he has the chance to stop them. The tone of his voice is quite unnatural in his ears, softer than it usually is, and somehow, the comment makes you roll your eyes, which he finds to be an unnatural reaction.

“You don’t have to say that just because you’re on a date with me,” you hum, eyes not meeting his. (Which might be a good thing. Sunwoo would like to keep his feelings hidden for a bit longer, and he’s not so sure you wouldn’t recognise the tender inkling he has towards you in his longing gaze.)

“I’m not saying it because of that,” he mutters, voice quiet, yet honest. 

Watching the side of your face, eyes still glued at every feature of your profile, he knows he’s not lying. He finds you oh so pretty even in the faint hue of the winter sun, with your scarf pulled up to the middle of your chin and hair pinned up with a pretty, silky bow. He finds you nothing short of angelic. Perfect. It’s kind of silly, if he really thinks about it.

Still, he can’t help himself. To this day, he counts the afternoon he spent with you, eating ramen at your favorite place, to be the first date he’s ever gone on.

Somewhere in the corner of his soul, he begs you count it as real too.

August 2007

It’s only a couple of days later when you find yourself in front of Juyeon’s father’s bakery, nervously chewing on your bottom lip and gazing at the glass door. The sun is shining strongly down on your skin, making you feel like you’re going to get a sun stroke if you keep standing in the direct light for any longer, and with the pressure of both the weather and your own thoughts, you decide to stop wasting time and push the door open, entering the establishment.

Not really sure if you’re welcome– who knows, Sunwoo might have just been acting nice and civil for the sake of not ruining his sister’s wedding– you prepared a mental shopping list of things you wanted to get at the bakery. You hadn’t seen your parents in a long time, so you thought a few donuts might make them happy. If Sunwoo just treats you like any regular customer when you walk in, you’ll take it as your sign to act like one and let this whole thing go. 

Truth be told, you don’t even know why you’re so nervous. It’s not like you’re promising yourself something more from this… right? 

It’s not like you suddenly felt younger again when seeing him at the wedding. It’s not like the memories choked you up when you went to sleep that night, it’s not like the feelings you had for the young boy suddenly waved at you in greeting, reminding you of just how close the two of you were all those years ago. 

Not at all. Why would anyone even think that?

The ring above the door makes a sound as you walk in, your insides clenching in a weird mix of nerves and anxiety at encountering Kim Sunwoo again. The store is empty when you reach the counter, but you’re soon greeted by the sound of the staff door opening, a tall figure stumbling in with a tray of pastries, yelling out a quick: “I’ll be right there!”

And as you watch Sunwoo with his bangs sticking to his forehead, an apron tied tightly around his thin waist, you feel like he hasn’t aged a single day and you two are still the same teenagers that ran around your school in order to not miss practice. The boy looks up at you from below his eyelashes, a boyish grin taking over his features as he puts the hot tray down on the counter and throws the kitchen towel he’s been using to shield his skin from the heat to the side, greeting you.

“Y/N! It’s nice seeing you again,” he beams, wiping his hands on his apron, gaze gluing to yours and never leaving, capturing you in a sincere eye contact that you don’t have the heart to break.

“Hi, Sunwoo,” you chuckle, pressing your lips into an honest, yet a little bit awkward smile. “How’s it going?” you ask, desperate to keep the conversation going– afraid that if it dies down, you won’t be able to revive it ever again and you’ll just regret it forever. There’s a weird sense of urgency in you, like you have a time limit to figure everything out– like you have to act now, or everything you ever wanted might slip from between your fingertips– yet, the more you watch Sunwoo in the serene atmosphere of the sweet-smelling bakery, you notice yourself relaxing.

“Good! Better now that you’re here, actually, it’s been a slow day,” he muses, nodding to himself. “What about you? Can I get you anything?” he asks, eyebrows raising, round cheeks on full display as he stares at you with an expecting smile.

“I’m doing well,” you nod, humming, “really well… catching up with my parents, settling in and stuff… You know the deal,” you laugh. “I actually came to get some donuts for my parents, sort-of like a thank you gift for letting me stay until I figure out my own place and stuff,” you say, watching as Sunwoo urgently nods with acknowledgement.

“Say less, darling,” the nickname slips out from him a little too easily, a little too casually for the way it captures your heart. It has you nervously shifting from one foot to another, insides warming up with the impact of his fleeting gaze as he moves to get a box from under the counter, moving closer to the glass vitrine filled with the sweet pastry. “Your mum loves these ones,” he points towards the donuts coated with the pink glazing.

It’s kind of weird– how Sunwoo knows exactly what your mother likes, despite him not being around your house every other day like when the two of you were teenagers. It makes you realize that even though you moved away for years, the time here didn’t stop. Everyone moved on with their lives, everyone continued on as if nothing happened. And you can’t hold it against them– you guess you just hate the weird pit in your stomach that opens up with the realization that while Sunwoo knows which pastries your mum likes (most likely because she stops by to buy bread often, taking some treats with her for her and dad while she’s at it), you don’t.

You try hard not to show it on your face, though. Sunwoo continues to pack more donuts into the box, not really attempting to ask you for what you’d like– he just chooses himself, making sure you bring home the best ones of the bunch, the most delicious ones they carry. Letting him do his work, merely watching as he carefully moves the donuts from the vitrine to the box, you hear him continue on with the conversation.

“You came in on the right day,” Sunwoo hums, “Juyeon works tomorrow, so you wouldn’t be able to catch me if you went.”

Ignoring the fact that he sees right through you– sees that your intention was to see him, to have a way to visit him and attempt to rekindle whatever bond you had when you were young– you just chuckle. You can’t blame him for knowing you so well, despite not being around each other for so many years. When you were young and in love, you used to call him your soulmate, after all. You guess there’s always a hint of truth, even in the most lovesick fantasies. “Well, then I’m glad I went in today,” you admit.

Sunwoo smiles at that– the kind of smile you always loved at him, the one where he shows his teeth and his eyes crinkle up into moon crescents. Once he’s done packing your donuts, he puts the box on the counter, showing you his back just as fast when he turns around, seemingly grabbing something else as well. When he’s facing you again, there’s a sweet pastry in his hand, still warm.

“What’s that?” you ask when you notice him offering it to you, eyes peering into his.

“A cinnamon roll,” he says, waiting for you to take it into your hands, “I told you everyone goes crazy over my cinnamon rolls, so I wanna see if their magic works on you too.”

“Is this how you flirt with girls over here?” you chuckle, but take the bun into your hand nonetheless, taking a hesitant bite of the treat. The sweetness melts on your tongue, the warmth of the freshly-baked pastry enchanting you with its taste, something about its essence weirdly reminding you of home. 

“Haven’t tried it before,” he shrugs, “so tell me if it’s working,” he jokes, watching as you chew on the roll. 

“Well, is it any good?”

Humming in satisfaction, delight on the tip of your tongue as you swallow down the heavenly dough, you nod. “It’s to die for, Sunwoo.”

“Told you,” he shoots you a cheesy finger-gun, reminding you so much of your best friend from high school, before he turns and takes a paper bag from somewhere, talking to you as his back faces you again, “I’ll get you some more to take home with you. I bet they didn’t have those in the Big Apple.”

“If I knew I was missing out on these, I would have come back quicker,” you joke, watching as Sunwoo turns to you with an amused look on his face, seemingly enjoying the praise.

The eye contact unarms you again, your composure falling just the slightest. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you clear your throat and reach for your wallet, ready to pay and leave so you can think about the interaction on your way home (and overthink every slightest detail, just like teenage you would after every fleeting touch young Sunwoo would send your way). “How much do I owe you?” you ask.

“Oh, it’s on the house,” he says, licking his lips, “consider it a… welcome gift, if you will,” he hums, offering you the box full of donuts and the paper bag consisting his infamous cinnamon rolls, your skin touching just the slightest when you take them from him, but still making electricity jolt through the nerve endings of your fingertips.

“No, Sunwoo, I really can’t-” you shake your head, but get caught off by him.

“Take them, please. You can pay me back some… other time?” he cautiously says, seemingly not really knowing if he’s still within your desired boundaries. 

“O-okay, then,” you nod, agreeing to the subtle invitation– the subtle promise to meet again, the hopeful question leading into something more. “Thank you, Sunwoo,” you hum, smiling as you turn towards the door and get prepared to walk out, giving both of you some time to think about what happened in the last few minutes.

As you open your mouth to say goodbye to him, hand landing on the doorknob, you hear him call after you once more.

“Oh and Y/N?” he says, a confident look suddenly overtaking his features. “I end here at 5, if you’d like to hang out after.”

Unknowingly, a grin appears on your features, the one that’s so strong you can’t really mask it no matter how hard you try– as you nod at him, the victorious feeling flowing through your veins maybe even a bit dangerous. Still, you don’t have it in you to turn the invitation down– you wouldn’t be able to even in your wildest dreams.

This is what you came here for, after all, isn’t it?

“Okay,” you agree. “So… I’ll see you later?”

“See you later,” he nods, teeth capturing his bottom lip. It’s kind of adorable. He couldn’t battle the smile threatening to pull at the corners of his mouth, no matter how hard he tried.

Maybe coming here– coming back home– was the best thing you could’ve done.

“Wanna come in?” Sunwoo asks. It’s a few hours later– you followed through with his invitation and waited for him in front of the bakery at 5:05 sharp, catching him after his shift. You two took a walk through the whole town, waltzing slowly through his neighborhood until you reached his childhood house. You remember far too many afternoons spent in the comfort of the walls, and although you think it would be nice to revisit those memories, you notice his mother’s car (is it still hers? You have no way of knowing.) in the driveway, and suddenly, you’re too shy to join him as he drops his stuff off in his house.

It’s like you’re a teenager again– except, you never had any problems meeting his mother before. She was a nice woman, although a little busy (you only heard Sunwoo complain about the fact a few times– mainly when he was feeling sentimental or particularly under the weather about something), and she always treated you very nicely. Almost like you were supposed to join the family one day. His sister once asked you if you’re gonna marry him, and you laughed at her back then– you were so young, you didn’t even think of having a wedding with Kim Sunwoo. The funniest thing was the timing: you weren’t even dating him at the time. Or planning to, really. Sure, you always imagined somehow spending the rest of your life with him, in one way or another, but the thought of marriage didn’t often cross your mind. Life is ironic, you think– MB!Y/N was the first one to have a wedding and here you are, retangling your life paths with her brother again. 

So no, you were never really scared or shy in front of his mother. Back then, things were different though. Simpler? You’d say they were definitely easier. You were more extroverted and open, more ambitious and less embarrassed of how your life turned out to be.

Also, you didn’t want to give her any ideas. It’s far too soon for that, you think. 

“No,” you shake your head, hesitating a little bit, “I’ll wait for you here,” you say, watching as he smiles at you and nods, walking inside of the house to drop off his things and change.

You two didn’t really have any plans for the rest of the evening. You told Sunwoo he could show you around town, tell you what changed and what stayed exactly the same, since he came home earlier than you– you bet it could be two or three years ago. He eagerly nodded, although noted that not much is different in your hometown and your walk could turn out pretty uneventful. No plans were set in stone, though.

Nervously shuffling from one foot to another, you decide to walk around the yard. Sunwoo’s house was always big– although it seemed more giant to you when you were a teenager. It’s a strange observation, since you didn’t really grow any more inches since you hit puberty. Your eyes study the flowers in front of the gate, the mowed grass, the big tree in the backyard. If you focus hard enough, you could almost see the two of you laying under it, letting the leaves shield you from the sun, both much younger and carefree than now. Sunwoo would show you pages of his favorite comic books and you’d play on your Tamagochi, making sure it doesn’t die in two days like his did when he first got it. When you turn to your right, you see the garden house you two– sometimes with his sister, sometimes with Eric, sometimes with both of them at once– spent many afternoons in.

There used to be an old, red sofa inside. There wasn’t much space, since it was filled with gardening supplies, Sunwoo’s and MB!Y/N’s old bikes, flower pots, packs of soil and all other things you could need for gardening, but it was fun to hide away from the sun in there and drink iced tea, talking about whatever came to your minds or solving nanogram puzzles in comfortable silence (or occasional sigh from Eric when he got stuck somewhere in the middle of his crosswords).

Your curiosity gets the best of you when you open the door, deciding to see if it’s still the same inside. Your eyes widen when you notice the garden house a little less packed than before– mainly because Sunwoo’s mother no longer does gardening in her free time and buys her vegetables on the market like your mum does, you presume– but instead, it’s full of all the things the childhood you knew so well.

Sunwoo’s old bike– red and a little rusty, but you bet it could still work. The rug they used to have in their dining room is now in the middle of the little garden house, stained with dirt. Next to the usual red sofa is a leather armchair that they used to have in their living room for a while, the dark brown fabric now worn out, chapped and peeling off. In the corner of the room, you find a box filled with various sports equipment– tennis rackets, a yellow tennis ball, a jumping rope, and lastly, a half-deflated football. The sight of it has you sighing a little, reminding you of Sunwoo’s composure when he told you about how he never got to pursue his childhood dream fully. 

Your eyes glaze towards his old skateboard, having you chuckle, the memories of him riding it down the hill in front of his house appearing in your mind. Sometimes, he would be there with his sister and his childhood friend Eric as well (that more often than not let MB!Y/N borrow the board, watching her with lovesick eyes instead of riding it himself), the young boy trying to teach himself tricks he saw on the TV.

“Do you think I still got it?” you suddenly hear Sunwoo ask from behind your shoulder, making you jump in surprise. The male laughs at your shocked face, shaking his head in disbelief at your easily shaken composure. 

“You scared me,” you breathe out, clutching your chest for good measure, to show him how much you really mean it– your heart was racing, and contrary to popular belief, the sight of him in casual attire (a gray hoodie, so similar to the one he used to wear in high school, baggy Adidas sweatpants covering his legs) wasn’t the reason for the little heart attack.

“So did you!” he exclaims. “I got outside and didn’t see you there, I thought you ran away for a second,” he hums.

“As if,” you mumble, “I walked all the way here, why would I leave so suddenly?”

“I dunno,” he shrugs, “you could’ve changed your mind, or something,” he says, his composure suddenly as boyish as when he was just a teenager, something in your heart softening. You guess he sometimes still carries some of the same insecurities he tried so hard to mask when he was young. Some things don’t really change, but you really wish at least this would’ve.

Smiling at him, you shake your head. “I don’t think you still got it, though,” you go back to reply to his initial question, pointing towards the skateboard.

“Well, who knows,” he peeps, “maybe I could do an Ollie, or something.”

“I really don’t think you could, Sunwoo,” you laugh softly, watching him regain his statement competitiveness.

“Wanna bet?”

“No,” you shake your head, “I don’t want you to break your bones, so let’s just say I believe you,” you giggle, watching as the boy mirrors your expression, his gaze softening. 

A short moment of silence overtakes you two as you sigh and look around the garden house, instinctively taking a seat on the red sofa covered in dust. You bet it’s been years since anyone’s sat on it, and you’re glad to be the one revisiting its comfort. It’s like solidifying your return– like the old piece of forgotten furniture in Sunwoo’s garden house is the spawn point of your childhood. “Doesn’t this make you nostalgic?” you ask, eyeing your companion.

“Well, I live here,” he shrugs, “so not as much as it makes you, I suppose. Having you here again makes it more nostalgic, though, I’ll give you that.”

His words have you overcome with something bittersweet. Seeing the town you love so much makes you almost regret you ever left. The rational side of your brain reminds you that you gained a lot of experience abroad, though, and so you settle with being just a little bit remorseful of your past self for being so overly-ambitious. 

“It’s weird,” you allow yourself to be vulnerable in front of him, the essence of him being your best friend– your first love, the first person you ever felt safe with– overtaking you in the moment of weakness, “it’s like everybody moved on, but I stayed here.”

“Well, not everybody moved on,” Sunwoo hums, referring to himself. “Juyeon stayed, too. Eric and MB!Y/N are moving only a few hours away… Haknyeon lives down the street now,” he points out, a poor attempt at making you feel better.

“Yeah… it’s just… I hoped I would do big things. I hoped we would both do big things,” you say, tone of voice quiet, your eyes avoiding him. It’s hard to keep eye contact with him when you share your struggles– at least that’s the way it always was when you were young. The look he offered you always made you feel so tender, so cared for that you wanted to burst out crying. In your age and state, you can’t afford to tear up in front of your ex-boyfriend anymore.

“Sometimes, things don’t work out the way we want them to,” Sunwoo says, tone of voice considerate. “And that’s fine. I wanted to be a star, and I’m not, but that’s okay, because hey… I’m happy anyway. I’m content. And I know that one day, you’ll be too. It just takes a bit of time.”

Snickering, you play with your fingers in your lap, legs plopping up and crossed, striking an almost defensive pose. “Were you… were you embarrassed when you came back?” you ask.

Sunwoo laughs, the sound so heartfelt it makes your insides squeeze. “Terribly. I mean, look at me in my mid-twenties, still living with my mother. Even back then, I felt like a failure. I felt like a disappointment, but… then I realized not everyone had the opportunities I had. Not everyone almost made it professional, you know, and that’s still something to be proud of.”

“I’m still living with my mother, but hey– she’s getting older and the house is big. MB!Y/N moved out, and I wouldn’t want my mum to get lonely… so I think I’m doing pretty well, given the circumstances,” he says. Pausing for a heartbeat, as if collecting his thoughts, he continues. “I think you should find the positives in your situation too. Not everyone got to live in New York... Work for the national TV… That’s still a huge achievement, and I think you should be proud of yourself for that.”

Rolling your eyes– although grateful to hear the words– you snicker. “It’s hard to do that right now…”

“I know,” he nods, smiling when you finally look at him. “It takes time. And until then, well, for what it’s worth, I’m really proud of you. And maybe… maybe you coming back home is how life’s supposed to go anyways.”

Biting down on your lower lip to stop yourself from tearing up– see, you knew you shouldn’t have looked the boy in the eyes during his little pep talk– there’s suddenly a weight leaving your shoulders, heart softening and growing more tender. Your wounds seem to sting a little less. It’s strange– even after so many years, he still knows just the words you need to hear.

“Yeah,” you nod, voice barely louder than a whisper, a soft smile playing with your lips, “maybe.”

to. my first kiss

March 2000

His eyes stay glued to the TV in your living room, the boy almost looking hypnotized as he focuses on the program running, furrowed brows and all, showing his utmost concentration. A sigh lands into his ears, but goes unnoticed when you enter the room, a scowl sitting on your face. “Sunwoo! I told you to watch the oven! What if the cookies burn?”

“Yeah…” he mumbles, not a single word coming out of your mouth truly registering in his brain.

“Sunwoo!” you grunt, but when you get no reply, you just choose to roll your eyes and walk into your kitchen yourself, opening the oven and making sure the cookies you two have been baking haven’t burned down into coal yet. Not long after, you plop on the sofa next to your best friend, tone of voice still showing a bit of frustration at his carelessness.

“You shit on Eric for watching those, but you’re just as bad,” you hum as you notice the kdrama going on in the TV. It’s one of the ones that hardly make any sense and each scene is overly-exaggerated and repeated at least twice to create impact, but Sunwoo finds himself living for the drama. Each argument has him examining the scene, mentally rooting for his favorite characters– and although he is busy with football practice nowadays, he doesn’t skip a single episode of Happy Together. 

It’s not as entertaining as the manga comics he borrows from Hyunjae’s father’s comic shop, but he figures that it’s good enough to pass some time… and indulge over.

“I think they’re gonna kiss,” he notes, pointing towards the screen.

“Oh, good point, Sherlock Holmes,” you sigh, shaking your head in disbelief. If there was something you’d expect out of your friend, it seemingly wasn’t his enjoyance of cheesy dramas that air in the afternoon hours of the week. 

And Sunwoo admits, he was never the one to enjoy romance. Hell, it was something he always made fun of when it came to his friend Eric– he was not the one to watch romantic comedies, he wasn’t the one to tell girls cheesy lines or bring them flowers on Valentine’s day. He does seem to be enjoying the laughable scenes rolling on the TV a little too much lately, though.

Maybe he should start hanging out with Eric less.

The scene slowly transforms into close-ups of the two main characters, showing them instinctively closing their eyes and leaning towards each other, eyes trained on each other’s lips. It doesn’t take much to predict the next actions, but Sunwoo still finds himself restless in his seat when they finally kiss, legs kicking up and a gasp escaping his mouth. One would think he won the lottery or was just greeted with the greatest surprise ever, with how he’s reacting. None of the two are true, though.

“Oh, wow,” you hum next to him, seemingly not really interested in the drama as much as your best friend is.

“You’re ruining it,” Sunwoo sighs, looking at you as you roll your eyes and settle deeper into the couch cushions. 

“Oh, sorry,” you note, but your composure stays a bit annoyed. 

Sunwoo watches the TV for some more– the scene of the two characters kissing stays on the screen, slowed-down and repeated, in the true 90s TV show fashion– before his eyes trail off the device and move towards you, glazing your side profile. He takes notice of your casual attire– you changed out of your school uniform in the time he was supposed to watch the cookies baking in the oven, and something in his stomach churns, making him blurt out the random question that so suddenly appears on the tip of his tongue.

“Have you ever kissed anyone before?” he asks, genuinely curious. He doesn’t even know why the response matters to him so much– he also doesn’t really know what reply he’d like to hear better, if he’s being honest– but now it’s out in the open and he can’t take it back.

“Hm?” you hum, snapping your head towards him. “Oh. Yeah, I guess…”

“You guess..?” Sunwoo repeats, furrowing his brows. How can one not be sure? 

“Well– yeah. It only happened once, though,” you shrug. It takes everything in Sunwoo to not ask who you kissed and when, or under what circumstances, and decide to despise that person until the day he dies. It’s not his business and he shouldn’t even care in the first place… He can’t say he’s disappointed in your answer– it’s your life and your decisions– but something inside of him screams that now, he can’t be your first no matter how hard he’d try. (It’s not like you’d want to kiss Sunwoo anyway, so he really doesn’t know why he’s making such a big deal about it.)

“What about you?” you ask, the question catching the poor boy off guard. He didn’t necessarily expect you to ask him back– so much to his title of Sherlock Holmes– and the reality that he can’t lie to you takes him out in full force as he bashfully stares out of the window.

“No,” he peeps, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

There’s something embarrassing about admitting to the girl you like that even at the ripe age of 19, you’ve never kissed anyone before. Shame creeps up his neck and adorns his cheeks after the simple word slips out of his mouth, eyes refusing to meet yours.

“Really?” you ask, and you sound genuinely surprised– there’s a hint of Sunwoo’s ego recovering, but he thinks the hit was too hard for him to ever recover.

“Yup,” he says, a popping sound heard as his lips voice out the last consonant, the view of him playing with his own fingers suddenly more interesting than anything else happening in your living room right at this moment.

“I thought– nevermind,” you hum, scratching the back of your neck, “why are you asking?”

“Just… just curious, I guess…?” he stummers, shrugging. 

A moment of silence overtakes you two– enough to make the boy instantly hate everything he’s ever said on the matter. If there could open up a hole in the ground right now to swallow him, he’d jump in with much enthusiasm. Why did he have to ask?

“Do you wanna try?” you suddenly propose, making the boy’s heart feel like it burst and threw him into a cardiac arrest. His hands start sweating, his cheeks tint red and it feels like all oxygen was suddenly sucked out of the living room, his lungs collapsing on themselves.

You seem to try to save the situation, noticing the utter shock on his face. “I mean– you don’t have to, but I… I wouldn’t mind, and it’s– I don’t know… if you wanted to practice with me, or something, I’d be down to…” you stutter, chewing on your bottom lip as you finish the little tangent, terror evident in your eyes.

Sunwoo feels like a little boy that just found his favorite gift under the Christmas tree. Like he found the most pricey toy there, the one he always wanted, and now that it’s there, he’s scared to actually play with it, because he doesn’t want to break it. Much like your friendship, he thinks. There’s too much to lose if he crosses this line, and he’s very much aware. 

But the offer seems tempting. Almost too tempting. God, he doesn’t think he could say no.

He may not be your first kiss, but you’re asking to be his. This sounds like a dream, if he really thinks about it.

“You know what? Just forget–”

“I’d– I’d like that…” he mumbles, trying really hard not to avert his gaze from you.

Your gaze softens, nodding your head. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he agrees.

“Okay,” you nod again, moving a little closer to him. Your knees knock into the side of his thigh, your whole figure now facing him on the sofa as his legs still point forward to the TV. He keeps staring at you, a little nervous, but expectant. “Are you sure? You don’t have to do it just because–”

“I’m sure,” he cuts you off, watching as your face relaxes, a smile appearing on your lips at the next addition. “I want to.”

“Okay.”

You move impossibly closer, your crossed legs in contact with his clothed skin. He curses the thin fabric of the pants of his school uniform for making him feel every slightest flex of your muscles when you move, making his skin flare up and burn. He keeps staring at you, watching you as you lean closer to him, your faces now inches away from each other. Sunwoo finds himself focusing on every feature of your face, counting the eyelashes framing your eyes, glazing over the sparkles in your orbs. You stay close for a minute, unmoving. 

Eyes locking, Sunwoo finds himself gasping a little, breathing shuddering when he notices your gaze falling to his lips. Your breathing mixes, air meeting his face when you breathe out a minty breeze. His heart is already racing and you’re not even doing anything.

When he finds you finally moving towards him and notices your eyes shutting close, he mirrors your actions, but stays unmoving. After what feels like eternity, he feels something soft pressing to his lips, warmth spreading from that part of his face to the rest of his body. The contact of your lips with his is gentle, like you’re testing the waters, and although the feeling is unfamiliar, Sunwoo decides he doesn’t hate it.

The weird firework show in his stomach actually suggests that he’s quite enjoying it. Your lips break away from his for a bit, rewarding him with only a peck, and before the boy has the chance to think this is it and it’s over, you dive in for more and kiss him again, this time longer, more firmer.

Your hands come up to cradle his cheeks, holding him close. He feels himself burning up, his composure completely crumbling when he feels you smile against his lips. 

“You know you can kiss back, right?”

“Mhm,” he hums, opening his eyes to see you staring at him with a tender look.

“Try it,” you say, hands gently coming up to brush his bangs away from his face. If anyone was looking at the two of you now, Sunwoo thinks they’d conclude that you two were in love.

And maybe Sunwoo was, by the way he was looking up at you like you hung the stars on the sky. By the way he was staring at you with such a vulnerable look he feared you might see right through him, see right to his core and call him out on every unconfessed word hiding in his heart. He looks a little scared, a little tense, still, but his eyes don’t lie. They never do. There’s no one else that could make him feel the way you do.

“Okay,” he nods, moving in his position so he’s facing you, ready for more. 

He mirrors your previous motions, leaning towards your face. He wets his lips and closes his eyes when he’s sure he’s close enough to not miss your mouth, and after another deep breath in to calm his nerves, he presses against you. He feels you freezing under him, a momentary panic spreading all over his chest as he thinks he’s done something wrong, before he feels you kissing him back.

A whole other sensation takes over him when he feels your lips moving against his, his fingertips buzzing when he drags his hand up and moves your hair behind your shoulder, large hand resting on your jaw. He’s not sure if he’s doing this correctly– hell, he’s never done this before– but after you move a bit and entangle your hands behind his neck, pressing against him a bit more firmly, yet still tender and gentle like the first time, he recognises that somehow, it feels right, and he thinks that’s all evaluation he needs for now.

The need for oxygen makes him break away from you, breathing heavily as he opens his eyes and finds you resting your forehead against his, smiling. “Like that?” he asks, shamelessly staring at your wet lips, already yearning for more.

“Something like that,” you nod, giggling. “You still need more practice, though,” you suggest, making the boy frown.

“Was it that ba–”

Rolling your eyes at him, frustrated at the way he always needs everything spelled out for him, refusing to take a hint, you press your lips against his again, teeth clashing a little when Sunwoo picks up the pace and kisses you back. The TV is a mere white noise in the background now, everything around you two disappearing, all of Sunwoo’s senses focused on you and only you. He could get lost in the way you taste– like strawberry bubblegum you bought at the store on the corner of the street– and the way you feel against him– soft, tender, warm.

He feels like he could burst. He knows his hands are a bit sweaty, but he’s only half aware of the fact when his palms move to hold your cheeks, much like you did to him before, and your hands entangle in his hair, playing with the strands.

He could stay like this forever, blissfully unaware of the consequences of this act. He could kiss you over and over and over again, even if it meant he was still bad at it and needed more practice– he could get lost in your scent, in the tender way you hold him to you, in the way you keep smiling against his lips whenever he does something to surprise you: like get a little bolder and angle your head by your chin with his thumb, getting more comfortable.

He’s glad he’s sitting down, because he’s quite sure his knees are too weak to carry him right now. When you break away from him again, lips swollen and eyes blown-out, he thinks you might just be an angel. He’d love to engrave this image into his memories forever.

Although, he’s doubtful that he could ever forget about this. Or anything about you, really.

And even as you suddenly gasp, finally aware of the world around you, running to the kitchen and screaming: “Sunwoo! We forgot about the cookies!”,

he wonders just what more you could teach him about life. He’d follow you to the end of the world if you asked him to, holding your hand in his and not thinking twice. He’d bring you down a star, if you only so expressed you would like one. He’d do anything. 

You taught him what friendship is. You taught him what it means to care for someone. What it means to have someone special. You taught him how to drink (although by scolding him when he was hungover. He felt cared for even with your stern gaze). You taught him how to slow dance– even though you spent the prom with someone else. Just now, you taught him how to kiss.

And although you’re unaware, he’s quite certain that when he’s 19 years old, spending each of his days with you, although unaware, you taught him how to love someone too.

August 2007

You feel kind of silly, standing in front of the bakery as the sun sets over the horizon, the clock striking near 5 in the afternoon as you gnaw on your fingernails and hesitate a little before coming in. Pushing the door open and slipping inside, the male currently sweeping the floor looks over at you, a look of pleasant surprise sitting at his face and a sunny smile sent your way upon your arrival.

You don’t really know why you keep running back to him. The whole town reeks of familiarity to you, every corner and inch of each street filled with the essence of your childhood and your whole growing up. It’s not like you don’t have anything else to ground yourself back to, but somehow, your inner voice always keeps calling for Sunwoo. It’s weird– it’s been ages and you shouldn’t feel like this around someone who you haven’t even properly dated for that long, if you don’t count the few months before he left– but it’s something you can’t control, an essence you can’t hold back. 

“Y/N,” he calls for you, “what are you doing here?” he asks as he continues his routinal cleaning, putting the broom away behind the counter. 

It’s a stupid question. You bet he realizes it too, but you’re somehow glad he is taking initiative. This way, you don’t have to be the first one to spark the conversation. This way, you know you’re welcome. 

“Oh, well,” you shrug, “I’m… looking for you…?” you say, tone of voice suggesting that you’re hesitant, almost a little shy to admit it to yourself. 

Maybe you’re foolish for feeling this way. Because you know what all those things mean– you know what the lightness in your stomach is, what the giddy feeling resonating through you whenever the male smiles at you is. You know that thinking about someone constantly, more so before you sleep, isn’t an usual occurrence with someone you pay no attention to, with someone you don’t care about. You’ve been in love before– with the same man that’s standing right in front of you as well, funnily enough. You know what this all means.

But with how he’s inviting you in, letting you into his little bubble, you think it’s not as bad of a thing. He’s not pushing you away. He’s not building bridges. He’s the same way he was all those years ago, and you’d hate to find out that all of this wasn’t something more and was just him being nice.

“Well, that’s good to hear,” he chuckles, wiping his hands on the apron still tied around his waist. “I’m off in a few, though, so if you want anything from the bakery–”

“I’m not here for the food,” you laugh, dismissing him with a wave of your hand. The boldness is unusual for the present you– there’s a hint of your past shining through whenever you are with the boy, though. Maybe you like this sense of familiarity. Maybe you like to feel real again– maybe you like to feel like yourself. It’s hard to admit it, but you did lose your sense of identity after moving abroad. It’s hard to stay true to yourself with so many new people around and with so many expectations and responsibilities. The pressure changes you, and you now rely on Kim Sunwoo to bring you back to default– to where you’re supposed to be.

“Okay, then,” he nods, thankfully not making a big deal out of your desperate visit, “what would you like to do?” he asks, eyes sparkling under the lights when he looks at you. It’s like an open invitation– he gives you the chance to tell him how you’d like to spend your time with him. He did this a lot when you two were younger as well. It felt good to have someone that would make the effort to enjoy your hobbies with you– no matter how disinterested he could be in the matter.

“Hang out… I guess…?” you hum, shrugging. You didn’t really have anything planned. All you knew was that you wanted to be with him. It’s like the heart’s calling– you don’t know when your inner monologue got so cliche.

“Anything specific?” he asks.

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you shake your head in disapproval. You fear that you disappointed him, let him down in some way– you came all the way here, after all. You could’ve made something up on the way, couldn’t you? But still– just like the Sunwoo you once knew, so lively and full of ideas– he just purses his lips for a second before speaking the suggestion into existence.

“Well… do you want to bake with me? Like the old times?” he says, sending you a look full of warm honey.

You wouldn’t say no to that invitation. You’d be crazy to do so.

The Kim Sunwoo you used to bake cookies with in the comfort of your kitchen back home wasn’t so skilled in making the dough like he is now. He wasn’t so good at knowing the recipe from memory, nor was he gifted with the kitchen appliances he has now, all professional and shiny, reserved just for the use of the bakery. You don’t really know if he even had the love for baking in him back then– you just know you two enjoyed your time together, and when you are young, that’s all you really cared about anyway. It didn’t matter that he let the cookies burn sometimes. It didn’t really matter that they didn’t turn out well on some days– all morphing into one big block, making you cut the dough into pieces so you could eat it when you accidentally added too much butter. 

He still looks the same, though. A few years older, but with the same boyish aura to him when he wipes dirty hands on his apron. All grown up now, but still with the same glint in his eye whenever he looks up at you in between your conversations. When you’re with him, you no longer feel the distance between who you are and who you used to be, the distance between you and him. It’s like the old days, but a little better.

Maybe you have more time now.

The two of you work on the cookie dough, enveloped in a comfortable conversation. “You have to add more sugar,” Sunwoo hums from next to you, watching as you work on the mixture.

“Isn’t it funny how I was the one always giving you directions when we baked together and now you’re the one ordering me around?” you laugh, taking the sugar from the counter and sprinkling more in, listening to the opinion of a professional.

“Well, my cookies don’t turn into one big blob of dough anymore,” he jokes, laughing. “Besides, it’s my job now, so you’d kind of expect me to be good at it.”

“You can’t be so sure of that…” you hum, shaking your head.

“Why? Do you have any experience with being bad at your job?” 

“Oh you bet I do,” you laugh, nodding. “I was an intern before, Sunwoo. A colleague of mine once tried to console me by saying being an intern means being bad at the job, so it wasn’t that big of a deal, but I still cried myself to sleep multiple nights,” you conclude, thinking back to your New York endeavors.

“That bad?” Sunwoo asks empathetically.

“Yeah. Mixed up everyone’s coffee order on my first day. When I was confronted about it, I tried to play it off by saying I don’t have a good memory…” you muse.

“Well, it’s hard to remember a lot of stuff at once, to be fair–”

“I was getting coffee for three people, Sunwoo. Objectively speaking, it shouldn’t be as hard…” you say, now thinking back to the events of your internship with more humor than embarrassment.

Sunwoo laughs at your story, shaking his head in disbelief. “Not worse than my teammate back in Boston. The first match of the season, he scored a goal against our own team. His reasoning? He used to play against the goalie back in high school, so he got confused.”

The boy takes over at making the dough once it’s the turn to add in the chocolate chips, glancing at you momentarily when you laugh at his anecdote. Watching him from the side, you heave out through your laughs. “That’s actually hilarious,” you get out, washing your hands in the sink. “What about some funny stories about yourself, though?”

“Don’t have any. I’m too perfect to humiliate myself like that,” he notes, pressing his lips together and raising his eyebrows at you in an ironic expression, nodding.

“Oh, as if–”

“How is it?” he asks you suddenly in the middle of the sentence, seemingly done with kneading the mixture. Sunwoo puts the cookie dough in front of your lips, waiting for you to taste it. You’d do it all the time when you were both teenagers, but back then, the gesture didn’t feel half as intimate as the mere image of it does now.

Locking eyes with the male, you hesitantly open your mouth and let him put the dough into it, tasting the sweetness on your tongue. Sunwoo’s eyes darken, as if he’s just realized what he’s done, the weight of the situation falling down on him as your tongue comes in contact with the skin of his fingertips. Gulping, he watches as you suck the tip of his digit into your mouth, getting all last remains of the sweetness off of it, something in the air shifting towards a direction you didn’t expect from tonight.

“Good,” you nod, licking your lips, “delicious.”

Seconds turn to what feels like eternities as you stop all motion and look into each other’s eyes, finding any hint of disapproval with the so obvious turn of events. His chocolate orbs peer into yours, making you ignite with something close to an urge you can’t control, his eyes anchoring themselves to the curve of your lips when you decide to let go of all anxiety and insecurities and just go for it. The cookie dough was sweet, but you’ve never tasted anything sweeter than Sunwoo’s lips. You might just have to refresh your mind, you think.

Leaning closer to him, your breathing mixing in the few centimeters left between your mouths, you relish in the déja vu this action brings you. It feels like yesterday, yet also centuries ago since you last kissed the male, and although you’re sure you enjoyed it back then, you wish you could’ve told the younger you to kiss him more often, more firmly, with more passion, maybe even sooner. For longer. 

Pressing your lips against his first, almost like always– since Kim Sunwoo was a bit shy with his kisses when you were both just high school seniors– your eyes shut close and everything around you disappears. You guess there’s something about baking that makes the two of you want to feed off each other’s lips– except this time, it’s not practice anymore. It’s not innocent, it’s not clueless. This time, it’s real, alive and passionate. You can’t say you hate the sentiment, the weird parallel your relationship has come to. It’s like you’re reliving your life again, but this time, you know how the story ends– you know how to fix the ending. How to keep him here.

Sunwoo’s more experienced than he was when you kissed him for the first time. He’s less shy and more bold, lips firmer against yours, but still careful and gentle. His hand comes up to cradle your jaw and position you so he has the best access to your mouth as he slips his tongue in, as if chasing down the taste of cookie dough he fed you just a few seconds ago, and although you liked to battle him when you were young, you let him win this time– you let him take you home, bring your mind to where it’s supposed to be.

Hands gripping the front of his shirt, but immediately going to circle around his neck when a particular movement of his makes you moan slightly into his mouth, you play with the hair on his nape and feel him shuddering under your movements, an automatic response that makes fondness spread over your chest. Everything about him is familiar to you– he still reacts the same way to your tender ministrations, he still smiles against your lips when you tangle your fingers through his hair and want to ground yourself in the touch. 

You know him like the palm of your hand. It’s easy to get lost in something you are so familiar with, in someone that was once your everything. It’s easy to indulge too much in something that was forcefully taken from you, to get right back where you left with him, because time and circumstances were never on your side.

A touch of his hand on the side of your neck, lips trailing down your mouth towards your jaw. The boldness, the urgency of his movements is enough to have you turn your back against the counter, his body pressed tightly against yours. His palms under the backside of your knees have you sitting up on the cold marble, his lips never breaking away from your skin. 

You’re enjoying the shift in the dynamic. You’re enchanted with the way he handles you, like he’s been starved of you for years, wanting to chase down all the time you spent away from each other. Breathing heavily, feeling his plush lips sucking down on the sweet spot under your ear, then trailing down the side until he reaches the juncture of your neck, an involuntary “God…” slips past your mouth.

“I missed you,” he says, words muffling against your skin, “I missed you so much, I felt like I was going crazy.”

The confession makes you dizzy, your whole body growing weak. It’s like he knows exactly what words you wanted to hear. It’s like he knows what haunted you all those years, what you kept asking the universe on sleepless nights over and over, praying for an answer. It’s like he knows exactly how to get you close to him, to have you completely let go of the past. 

“I missed your jokes,” he says, planting a kiss on your neck. “I missed your smile,” he presses another one a little more up, “I missed your laugh,” another kiss, now on your jaw. “I missed holding your hand,” a peck planted to the corner of your lips, “and I missed kissing you…” he trails off, pointing his attention back on your mouth, locking the two of you together again, as if kissing you was his new addiction and you were the drug.

Sunwoo’s hot hand creeps up your waist, fingers slipping under the thin fabric of your tank top. The contact makes you shiver in response, your bodies still as responsive to each other as back when you were 19, and when you tug at his bottom lip with your teeth and slip your tongue back into his mouth, you feel the boy tug at the right strap of your top, sliding it down your shoulder. You’re barely registering the bowl of dough to your right, the fact that you’re in the kitchen of Juyeon’s parent’s bakery, or the fact that you only just met the boy two weeks ago for the first time in years. All you focus on is him– his touch, his taste, the way he makes you feel. All you know is longing. The desire.

Before you have the chance to take anything further, the sound of the door opening makes you jump away from each other– your head almost hitting the top cabinets, had Sunwoo not instinctively put his hand there to shield you from the impact. Before you get a chance to register what’s happening, a familiar voice calls for you, their tone a little guilty and bashful. 

“Oh, I didn’t mean to interrupt, or anything–” Juyeon peeps, clearing his throat. 

Glancing at Sunwoo, you see his cheeks redden at being caught by his older friend, yet his eyes still roll in annoyance at the interruption. You can’t help but try to hide your face into his shoulder– it’s not like you’re embarrassed of being with Sunwoo, you’re just embarrassed that it had to happen here, of all places.

“Well, you just did,” Sunwoo grunts, frustration coating his words.

“I’m just here to grab something,” Juyeon hums, almost racing through the room to get to the fridge on the other side of the kitchen, taking out a carton of milk from the inside and showing it to the two of you. “This is gonna go bad soon, so I’m taking it home to use it. Uhm.. anyways, well, don’t let me stop you in anything… bye!”

Neither of you greet the male back, instead sharing a meaningful, knowing look between each other. The view of your first boyfriend with his lips puffy, cheeks flushed and hair a little disheveled makes your senses go crazy, and although you’d like to continue what you started, you don’t think now is the right time or place.

Hopping off the counter, you smile. “So… where were we with the cookies?”

to. my first girlfriend

May 2000

Eyes trained on the ball, feet restless as he runs across the field to retrieve it and pass it to one of the shooters– either Donghyuck or Jinyoung, the more capable ones of the team– Sunwoo finds himself completely focused on the game. It’s one of the last matches of the season, and since he doesn’t know if he’s ever going to play his favorite sport again– he hasn’t received a verdict on the university applications he sent yet– the boy figures he should enjoy each game like it’s the last. Because who knows– one day, it may as well be, and if he’s not prepared for it, if he has any regrets, he knows he’ll take it harder than he’s supposed to.

Kim Sunwoo’s position in football is midfielder. While Eric once told him that it’s a loser position, since he’s not the shooter and he doesn’t score many goals (which is a lie– the boy had him know he scored his fair share despite his defensive position on the field), Sunwoo’s grown to love it. He’s the one that’s supposed to counter all attacks on his teammates. He’s the one that runs after the ball and passes it to the shooters, so technically, he’s the reason why any of them even have the opportunity to score. His position is as important as any other player's, and he takes pride in the compliments he gets from his coach whenever he does particularly well at a game. 

Sunwoo loves football. He’d say his first love is football, but something inside of him keeps telling him that that’s a lie (don’t ask him why. It’s a secret.). It’s the first game he’s ever been exceptionally good at, the first thing he could do for periods longer than a few weeks. He’s been playing with the ball since he was young, and although he never had a father to kick the football around with in his backyard, his sister was always happy to be included in anything he was into at the time– when she got older, she even got better at being his designated goalie, although less interested in the play itself. Sunwoo feels like he lets go of all worries when he plays. It’s good to have an escape, something to keep his mind occupied. He doesn’t have many things to worry about, but he finds that kicking the ball around, making strategies in his brain on how to get it to his teammates the fastest, is enough for him to get out both his frustration and get something nice out of it. He enjoys the thrill. He enjoys the excitement, the shared joy of the team whenever someone scores a goal. He is addicted to the ecstasy in his veins whenever his team wins.

It was easy to determine that if Sunwoo wanted to do anything for the rest of his life, it would be football. It’s what he enjoys, what he loves. It’s what he’s good at. 

It’s strange to imagine a time when he wouldn’t play football. He doesn’t even want to imagine it in the first place– it makes a chill run down his spine and an unsettling feeling churn in his stomach. In a perfect world, he’s always a football player.

Everyone keeps telling him he could easily make it professional, if he tried. 

Football is how he met most of his friends. It’s how he met Juyeon– he was the captain of the high school team when Sunwoo was a sophomore, and he found that hanging out with the older boy was easy and fun. It’s how he met Donghyuck and Jihoon (before the latter dropped out of the team after a few months). It’s how he met you. 

His coach always warned the players about dating the cheerleaders. For his coach, it wasn’t right to do so– it would throw off the dynamic of the game. “Nobody wants their ex to stare at them during their game!” the coach had said– not even thinking of the possibility of any of those teenage romances to last. Sunwoo only laughed back then. It wasn’t something he should be afraid of– he never liked anyone on the cheer team.

Until… until he did. Sunwoo met you on one sunny day, at your joint cheer-slash-football practice. You pointed out that the number on his jersey– 03– was your favorite, and the boy felt himself smile. Ever since then, he never wore any other number. He considered it to be his lucky charm. What started as friendship blossomed into something much more for the boy, and somehow, he can’t even remember when the feelings he had for you morphed into adoration. He doesn’t know when they shifted Into absolute enchantment, or Into a silly crush– he doesn’t know when he started seeing you in a light that was more romantic.

Wearing your favorite number on his back, Sunwoo runs towards the opposing player. There’s something akin to an angry face playing with the man’s features, and Sunwoo imagines it’s because of the very clear lead his team has on them. Sunwoo makes sure he doesn’t slip as he tackles the opposing player– he swears he heard someone call the shooter Jaechan– and as soon as he secures the ball, Sunwoo aims to forward it to his teammate.

The screams resonating all around him– although he tries hard to filter them out to focus on the game completely– suggest that it’s only a few moments before the game is over. It wouldn’t matter even if they didn’t score the goal, but something inside of Sunwoo’s heart leaps at the thought of winning with such a lead. The boyish excitement only grows when he watches Donghyuck retrieve the goal and run towards the goalpost, neon-orange sneakers shining through the green grass.

“Come on!” Sunwoo cheers, a hopeful spark lighting within him as the boy prepares to shoot, eyes quickly scanning the field.

And Lee Donghyuck almost never lets him down. Maybe that’s why he liked the boy so much in the first place– Sunwoo didn’t like players that dismissed the chance he won for them. He liked the skillful ones. The ones that knew what they were doing. (He also liked Donghyuck’s humor. He found himself grateful to have a friend so funny. He made even losing feel like it wasn’t such a big deal.) 

Choosing the golden shooter proved to be a good idea once again– Donghyuck, number 35, shoots for the goal and the ball gets in. Seconds after, the sound of a whistle is heard across the place, the game over with Sunwoo’s team winning 4:1.

Everyone cheers– yells from the audience are heard, excitement reeking through the air. The whole football team gathers around, sweaty bodies sticking together as they perform some sort of a cliche group hug, arms patting each other’s backs and complimenting each other’s play. 

The commotion dissolves shortly after. Sunwoo finds himself trying to catch his breath, eyes looking across the space for someone in particular. His heart leaps even harder when he finds you standing at the edge of the field in your cheer uniform, a big smile plastered on your face. Your eyes are glimmering as they meet with his. Your hair is a little tousled from the routine you just finished doing and there are smears and smudges on your cheeks from the face paint you used to symbolize the team’s colors– blue and gold. Over-all, you look ecstatic.

Sunwoo finds himself running over to you before he even registers that he’s going to do it. He’s like a fast, unguided missile, the goal of getting to you as fast as possible being the only thing resonating through his excited mind.

“Good jo-” you grunt as the boy finally gets to you, words cutting off when he (maybe a little harshly) puts his arms around your middle and picks you up, twirling you around. You screech a little into his ear and he finds himself laughing at your reaction. It’s like a runner's high– he feels like right now, he is capable of everything. 

“Okay! Okay! Put me down!” you laugh when you start to get a little dizzy. The boy complies, since he’s running out of strength to carry you anyways, and puts you back to your feet. His arms stay tightly wrapped around your body, though, locking you into a secure hug. 

“We won!” he cheers, the brightest grin settling to his lips as he announces the obvious. 

You beam at him, eyes soft and crinckled into little moon crescents, a dumbfounded smile playing with your features. “I know, Sherlock,” you dismiss him again with the teasing nickname, shaking your head in disbelief, “I was here. Cheering for you,” you say.

And sure, Sunwoo knows that by you, you don’t necessarily mean him in particular– more like cheering for the whole team, the whole 11 players on the field– but something about the sentiment makes his stomach feel all light and a slight blush spread over his glowing cheeks. You were here– cheering for him (and his team) – and although you’re here out of your own will, out of your own devotion to your hobby, he somehow feels grateful for your presence. You never miss a game. You went even when you caught the flu and felt too sick to do your cheer routine– you just sat on the bench and rooted for your best friend. (The team lost that match. Sunwoo felt a little bad for tugging you out of your bed for it.)

The boy studies your face for a while. You look perfectly content in his hold. You fit perfectly into his arms, he thinks– almost like you’re supposed to be there all the time. He should hug you more often, he decides. Sunwoo foolishly finds himself focusing onto your lips– he blames the shiny lipgloss you put on today– the words coming out of your mouth not quite registering in his brain. “As I was saying, good job! The whole team, but you especially. Don’t tell anyone, but I think you really shined in this game. I’m really prou–”

A single peck is pressed to your glossy, sticky lips, cutting you off in the middle of the sentence yet again. Sunwoo surprises himself with the gesture– he was always too shy to initiate something with you, too hesitant to even touch you sometimes– but the euphoria is still playing with his senses, clouding his brain. He doesn’t think of consequences.

He can’t control himself anymore. It’s been weeks since you two kissed for the first time– exactly 4 and a half weeks since you taught him how to do so– and since that afternoon, he found himself thinking about it every single day, every single minute, all. The. Time. You two haven’t spoken about it since, making the poor boy a little disappointed, but he respected your decision. He knew that you didn’t particularly reciprocate his feelings, but he still expected your dynamic to shift. At least a little bit. 

And although he should’ve been glad nothing changed and your friendship didn’t crumble because of a simple kiss, he found himself desiring to kiss you every time he saw your face. 

You peer at him with eyes wide open, mouth a little agape. Sunwoo doesn’t really know how to read your reaction– you didn’t look particularly happy, but you also didn’t push him away– and so in the moment of panic, he begins to backtrack, his arms untangling from your sides.

“I- I’m sorry if I overstepped any boundary, or if I–”

You’re not fans of letting each other finish their sentences today, it seems. Before Sunwoo gets a chance to put a bigger distance between the two of you, he watches as you get on your tippy-toes and press a tender kiss on his lips– more firmer than the one he dared to give you, a little bit longer, yet still sweetly short. There’s something soft and gentle in your gaze when you pull away and press another peck onto his face– the tip of his nose this time– and Sunwoo almost physically feels his knees turning into jello, his own celebratory firework show erupting in the pits of his stomach.

“So, as I was saying,” you hum, hugging the boy around his neck, “you did well. You looked good out there,” you peep, the sparks in your eyes making Sunwoo’s skin burn with their contact.

That day, you teach him that to be loved is to have someone sharing your achievements with. To be loved is to be adored, to be loved is to have someone watching you and cheering you on, to have someone to run to with good news.

Kim Sunwoo’s football team won the match, but the boy thinks that perhaps, that day, he won something even greater.

to. my first lover

August 2000

The admission papers arrive at his house the morning he’s supposed to sleep over at your house. Your parents decided to take a trip to your aunt’s place for two days, so you invite the boy into the comfort of your home for the weekend– as far as Sunwoo’s mother is concerned, he’s sleeping over at Juyeon’s. He doesn’t have the boy covering him, but he’s also sure his mother won’t try to check if he’s telling her the truth. He’s not banned from having a girlfriend– he just doesn’t want his mum to get any wrong ideas.

He finds the envelope in the mailbox when he comes home from school, and something in his stomach drops when he sees the american stamp on the top right corner of the white paper. He debates on opening it, but every time he hypes himself up enough to tear the top of the envelope off, a little anxious voice on his inside tells him to wait. 

Although reluctant to admit it to himself, Sunwoo is a little scared to see the result of his university application. Before he leaves for your house, he puts the envelope into the front pocket of his backpack and tries to forget about it. It works a bit better when he sees your face, hears your laugh– when he spends time with you and you two play the new board game you got from your cousin. Still, the weight of the envelope keeps bugging him in his mind no matter how hard he tries forgetting about it, and you finally notice (or finally bring it up after hours of ignoring his weird mood) when the two of you lay together in your bed in the evening, both facing the ceiling.

“Is everything alright?” you ask. 

“Hm?” Sunwoo hums, lost in thought. “Oh, yeah,” he nods, “don’t worry.”

You don’t seem convinced. Shuffling a little in your sheets, you turn towards him and move your body closer to his, your arm suddenly draping over his middle. A tender kiss is placed on his temple, almost making him crumble under the gentle care, and your voice earns a concerned kind of timbre when you speak to him. “You can tell me,” you hum, “boyfriends and girlfriends are supposed to tell each other things.”

Boyfriends and girlfriends. Sunwoo feels himself soften under the possessive title. It has been close to 4 months of you dating– starting with the winning match in April, progressing slowly through the summer break– but the fact that you’re his partner is still a little unbelievable to him. Sometimes, when he hears you call him your boyfriend, he still gets a little bashful. He still feels like he’s been told the greatest news of his life. 

Maybe it’s the nature of this sentiment that has him slowly unraveling to you. And maybe, it’s because he’d tell you anyways– you’d be the first to know. He was just waiting for the right time to bring it up.

“The reply to my university application came in the mail this morning…” he trails off, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

You plop up on your elbow, watching the boy from above. Eyes big, you peer into his face. “And?” you ask, an expecting gaze glazing his features.

“I… I don’t know,” he shrugs, “I was too scared to open it alone.”

“O-Oh,” you nod, furrowing your brows at him, “well, it’s okay to be scared. I believe in you, but even if it doesn’t go the way you wanted it to, I’m still proud of you for trying,” you say, a gentle tone of voice cooing at him, like the nature of the way you play with his hair, wanting to make the boy relax from his anxieties.

“I have the letter here with me,” he says, swallowing, “in my bag.”

“Do you want to open it together?” you ask, watching as the boy nods.

He’s getting off the bed in no time, wearing just sweatpants and a baggy shirt to sleep in, grabbing his bag from the corner of your room and unzipping the small compartment at the front. His fingers take the envelope out, legs walking him over back to your bed, your figure now sitting against the headboard. Sunwoo finds himself mirroring your position as his fingers turn the little white thing in his hold with much stumbling, preparing himself for whatever answer awaits him inside.

Glancing at you, seeing you looking at him with an encouraging expression on your face, Sunwoo takes a big breath in and out to calm his nerves before he tears the top open and takes out the expensive-feeling paper. Not stopping his actions anymore, knowing that if he takes another moment to himself, he won’t be able to read the letter, he unravels the note and lets his eyes skim over the words.

Before he even has a chance to register the sentences written down in the letter, before he can even let his mind accept the result he’s given– ‘we are pleased to announce that you were admitted to the athlete scholarship program…’– he feels a pair of arms wrapping around his shoulders, jolting him awake from his thoughts.

“You made it! Oh my god, you made it!” you cheer, excitement taking over your whole body as you shake the boy in your hold from side to side. The reality still isn’t quite settling in for him, so he just lets you do whatever you please– which includes all of the following: screaming incoherent words into his ear when you hug him closer to your chest, planting a kiss to his cheek and throwing your hands up into the air in a winning gesture. 

“You made it, Sunwoo,” you repeat, this time a little more collected.

Sunwoo finally allows himself to put the letter away and look into your eyes. “I made it,” he sighs, a soft smile playing with his features. 

“You did!” you nod, grinning back.

It’s strange. The first step towards Sunwoo’s dream is now complete. He got admitted to the university of his dreams– the one that’s good for athletes, the one that is supposed to shoot him towards stardom. He has the opportunity to take classes there and train with some of the best aspiring players in the whole world. He has the opportunity to move out of the country, live at dorms in Boston, and most importantly, he has everyone’s support. 

There’s nothing more a boy his age could want more. He has everything. His whole life ahead of him, only the brightest future waiting for him at the end– only if he keeps trying hard and improving. He’s happy. Don’t get him wrong– he really is. Somehow, though, it all feels a bit scary.

“What’s wrong? Aren’t you excited?” you ask, a pout taking over your once excited features. The amount of worries you have over Sunwoo gets bigger and bigger the older the two of you are. There are only so many things that can go wrong when you are a teenager, but now that you’re adulting, the list keeps getting longer.

“I am,” he nods, forcing a smile onto his lips.

“You don’t seem excited,” you argue.

“I am! I really am,” he says, trying to battle with himself.

“What is it?” 

“What is what?” 

“Come on, Sunwoo,” you sigh, “I can tell when something’s wrong. You don’t have to hide it from me, because I’ll know anyway. What is it?” you insist, staring the boy down with an examining look.

The boy sighs, shrugging to himself. “Well,” he starts, “the school is in America.”

“And?” you start, furrowing your eyebrows. “We knew that when you applied. Why is it such a problem now?” you ask, genuinely not grasping the whole situation.

Sunwoo chews on his cheek for a little while, plays with his fingers in his lap. A part of him is telling him that he both looks and seems foolish– because you’re right. It was his dream, he is excited, and this is good news. But still, there’s something he didn’t really think of when applying. Well, he did. He just thinks that the fact that him being accepted wasn’t really a realistic idea, no matter how hard he wished and prayed for it, so he didn’t have the need to think about it so seriously back then. Now it’s here, all real, and it’s a struggle he didn’t really grasp that he was going to have to go through.

“Well,” he starts again, still avoiding your eyes, “that means I have to move. And we won’t see each other for a while.”

There’s a heartbeat of silence following his confession– one in which he contemplates all possible reactions you might give him, some with truly catastrophic endings– but after what seems like eternities, he hears your soft, gentle voice. “Is that what’s making you so worried?” you ask.

“Kind of,” he nods, feeling his cheeks redden. You handle him with so much care– sometimes, he doesn’t know how to react.

“Awh,” you coo, taking his hand into yours, preventing him from picking at the skin of his cuticles until they bleed– an action he always does and you keep scolding him for. “Sunwoo, we knew about this when you applied. I am okay with you going away. Sure, it will suck, but it’s only for a little time, and I can come visit you there and you’ll show me around and stuff…”

Sunwoo presses a tight-lipped, hesitant smile to his lips. He feels reassured.

“And we’ll call, and it’s going to be fine, because this is good. This is good news, Sunwoo, and you’re gonna do great, and you’re gonna be a star, and I’ll be so, so proud of you,” you hum, voice tender and caring, doing your best at consoling the boy.

“I’m already so proud of you now, y’know?” you hum, squeezing his hand. “Everything will be alright, so don’t you worry.”

Sunwoo’s arms reach out to envelop you into a hug. He once again recognises how easily you fit into his arms, how perfectly you shape into his skin, and when he burrows his nose into your neck, breathing in your scent, he feels your lips reach into his hair, planting a soft kiss into it. Your words did more to the boy than only consult him– they gave him hope, they gave him joy, they made him feel like perhaps, this is not such a terrifying occurrence. And it really isn’t– it’s quite possibly the best thing that he’s ever achieved, and the circumstances of him leaving don’t seem as horrifying to him now. 

As long as he knows that you have his back, he thinks he can do anything. And what’s 3 years abroad against the 4 years he’s known you?

When you pull away, you press your lips against his, the contact making his muscles finally relax and his mind let go of all the worries. There’s suddenly nothing in the world that could make him falter, nothing that could make him worry or stress or fret or change his mind, because he has your support, and you’re here with him, promising him that you’ll always be right by his side, wherever he is.

Your mouth molds against his, the familiar motion of your lips against his still surprising him sometimes, still making him curious even after those months. He’s been dating you for some while, but he still likes to explore what makes you crumble under him, what makes you hum into the kiss, what makes you tug him closer to you– it’s a fun game to him, trying to figure you out completely. 

He still has some time, but it’s like he is trying to engrave those moments into his memory before he no longer can experience them first-hand as easily.

He goes out to explore again– his tongue gently inviting itself into your mouth with a swipe of your lower lip, relishing in the way your composure falters a little bit, letting him be in charge. You were always the more experienced one out of you two, so Sunwoo often shied away from being the one dominating intimate situations– afraid he’s not good enough, too inexperienced, too immature for you– but in the rare moments he does take the lead, your reactions give him a new source of confidence. 

His hand comes up to cradle your jaw, nose pressing against your cheek as he angles you so he has more access to your lips. Something about his ministrations makes you forget to breathe, breaking away from him in a search for much needed oxygen, but Sunwoo acts like he’s been starved of you, latching his lips to the trail from your mouth towards your neck, planting open-mouthed kisses to your soft skin. He faintly remembers the time you gave him a lovebite that one time you came over to his house to work on homework together, sucking and biting at his neck (and although he enjoyed seeing the possessive bruise on his skin whenever he saw himself in the mirror, he wore the strings of his hoodies tightly tied to his neck, shielding him from being teased by everyone– but mostly Eric). He tries to mirror your motions, recreating the action to the best of his abilities.

He hears you grunt, making him fear that he’s doing it wrong– a momentarily panic settling in his chest screaming at him that he hurt you– but the worries are quickly dismissed as you move impossibly closer to the boy, straddling his lap and threading your fingers through his hair, keeping him close. 

Humming under his touch, Sunwoo gets a kick from hearing the sounds coming out of your mouth. It’s like a reward– it’s like the praise he goes after his whole life, like validation of his actions being satisfactory for you. The pressure of your body against his lap makes him feel hot all over, sweaty hands holding you by your sides. Every slightest shift of your figure against his makes him shudder, composure faltering when you move in a way that has his breathing particularly quicken, a bundle of nerves forming in his stomach from the newly found hypersensitivity. There’s only so much fabric shielding the two of you from each other, and just the thought of it is slowly driving the boy crazy.

Pulling away from your neck, admiring the artwork he managed to portray on your skin, he feels you pulling him up to meet your lips again, heated, firm kisses shared in the silence of the room. He feels your hands resting on his abdomen, feeling him up for a moment before you sneak them under the hem of his shirt, dragging your nails against his skin. 

Sunwoo hears a sound escape his throat at the contact, making him instantly feel foolish– until he feels you smile against his lips, following your ministrations by mirroring his previous actions and kissing down his neck, finding all the spots that make him the most reactive– like the place under his ear, the juncture of his shoulder. You revisit all the places you’ve tested before and perfected your aim to make him efficiently crumble under you. Sunwoo finds himself losing the initial control he had over the situation, instead letting you take over and lead him, much like you’ve done in most areas of his life. He likes to be your follower. He likes to see where you want him, where you need him, he likes to comply. It’s more comfortable for him this way. It makes him swell with pride when he makes you happy.

Another shift of your hips against him has Sunwoo digging his fingers to your side, whole body feeling like it’s electrified under your touch. Placing a soft peck to the spot you’ve had your attention on, you mumble into his skin. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Sunwoo swallows, noticing you leaning your forehead against his tenderly, eyes meeting. 

“Are you sure?”

He nods. He’s never been more sure about anything in his life– he enjoys your company, he loves your touch, the way you make his every sense heighten, his heart beat quicker. Still, he feels a bit nervous at the prospected events. “I just– I’ve never done this before,” Sunwoo whispers the obvious, watching as you carefully observe him.

“Sweetheart,” you tenderly call, placing a soft peck to his lips. “That’s okay. Me neither, but we could… we could try and see where this leads us, if you’d like?”

The sweet pet name alone makes the boy let go of all his worries, of the stress and nerves he’s been holding on to for the past few weeks. You hold him like he’s going to break, and Sunwoo’s never felt so loved before. You reassure him that it’s going to be okay. You are there to remind him that life isn’t so hard, as long as you’re by his side.

“Okay,” he nods, smiling at you. 

“Okay,” you repeat, holding his face in your hands as you kiss him again– it may as well be for the thousandth time. Truth is, while he tried to keep up at first, Sunwoo lost count a long time ago.

Everything there is to know about love, Kim Sunwoo learned from you. You showed him the childlike playfulness during your dates. You taught him how to kiss, only to take advantage of his newly found skills and keep them all for yourself. You showed him what it is to share joys, dreams, but also worries together. You were his first crush, date, relationship– and now, his first lover.

In the comfort of your childhood bedroom, holding you closer than ever, Sunwoo dreams of eternity with you. He doesn’t realize what a foolish thought it might be. Somehow, he’s got a feeling that no matter what it is, you two will figure it out. You always do.

to. my first love

September 2000

Muscles sore and whole body heaving in pain, Sunwoo trails inside the small bungalow the university gave him as student accommodation, dropping his duffel bag to the floor. His face is pulled into a small frown as he enters the house and his roommate can’t help but notice. “Everything alright?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Sunwoo hums, nodding at the question. He has 3 assigned roommates– all male, all around his age. Sunwoo’s english isn’t bad, but it also isn’t that great either. He knew that this was going to be one of the main concerns of him moving out abroad, but he figured that the more you encounter the language, the more comfortable you get with it. Due to this, though, the two American boys he rooms with– their names are Josh and Sam– aren’t as close with him. Sunwoo doesn’t really blame them. It’s not like he tried to get close with them anyway. He talks much more with Mark, the one year older boy that’s also Korean, but has been living in the States for years now. The language barrier is nearly nonexistent there, and so he feels much more comfortable.

Not comfortable enough to vent to him about his problems, though. It’s good to share a laugh with Mark when they eat breakfast together in the kitchen, but he won’t go on and talk his ear off about his homesickness, for example. Sunwoo wouldn’t talk to him about the weird, unsettling feeling in his gut whenever he takes the bus or walks down the street, not recognising every face he encounters like he did back home, in his small town. He won’t tell Mark Lee about how much he misses Korea– he’s sure the boy has his own things to worry about. Besides, it’s not like Mark talks about personal stuff with him either. After four days of living here, he can’t say their relationship got to the level of going deep with their personal lives.

And so, Sunwoo walks up the stairs in silence, not giving Mark more information about his mood. Each step up hurts, since the training is twice as demanding as it used to be at home, making his muscles sore and his back hurt terribly from the stone hard mattress in the bed of his new home. He is willing to endure it, but he also has the terrific need to complain about it to anyone that would be willing to listen.

He should start writing a diary, he thinks as he stares up on the ceiling, chewing on the inside of his cheek. It sounds good enough to channel his feelings out into while also not being a bother to anyone else. Besides, he doesn’t want anyone to know that he’s having a hard time here in Boston. This was all his decision, his dream, and sometimes, things are going to get difficult. And that’s okay. Sunwoo just… feels like he lacks the support system he once had back home in Korea. Like someone took it from between his fingertips, forcefully kept it away from him, locked somewhere miles away. Maybe the person who did that to him was himself all along…

Which is why he doesn’t deserve to whine about the fact that he feels terribly lonely. He did this to himself. All him.

If he had a diary, he’d write about the terrible mattress first, he thinks. Then, the weird weather around here– it’s always hot, but not humid. It doesn’t rain as much. He kind of misses the rain. 

If he had a diary, he’d write about how he misses his old coach. The high school coach that always made sure the game was fun, yet productive. He misses his teammates as well. Their team never did big things, but he felt like they were some sort of a family. They knew each other well on the field. They had chemistry. They had fun.

He’d write about how he misses his annoying little sister. How he wishes she would appear in the doorway of his room and talked to him about the stickers she still collects, or dragged him to make another friendship bracelet together. How he feels bad for leaving her all alone back home, even though he was never the one to share his brotherly love for her so outwardly growing up. He feels a sort of appreciation for her that he didn’t quite understand when they were little. They are right when they say your sibling is your first best friend after all. 

He’d write about the second best friend he’s ever made, Eric. He’d write about how he longs for his presence, his encouraging words. His funny remarks, the pranks he’d pull on him. How he always appreciated him being just across the street, how he enjoyed growing up with him by his side.

He’d write about how much he misses you– perhaps the most out of everyone. There aren’t many words he could use to describe how much he wishes for your presence, and so he thinks the pages filled with sentences directed to you would be rather sparse, and it makes him kind of sad to think about. In his mind, you deserve novels written about you. You deserve love letters and poems and essays filled with every little detail of your existence. Maybe if Sunwoo loved you less, he would be able to talk about it more.

When his eyes go out of focus staring at the ceiling, Sunwoo decides to call you. It’s been 4 days since he arrived and he hasn’t spoken to you since you waved him off to the airport. His mother drove him and you couldn’t go to send him off at the gate, but Sunwoo almost thinks he prefers the fact that you only said goodbye to him in front of his house. It would be that much harder if he saw your face the last thing before boarding the plane. 

For the last four days, he’s been slowly settling in, taking in the new country and the new environment. He’d say he was just too busy to call, but that would be a lie.

He was just scared to hear your voice. Terribly.

What if you changed your mind? What if you no longer want to stay with him? What if it’s too hard to handle? And Sunwoo knows it’s hard– hell, it’s the most difficult thing he’s ever done– but all he wishes is for you to keep handling it well. To keep his heart in your hands gently, like you always have, sending him your energy.

He figures that if there’s one thing that can help his growing homesickness, it is to hear your voice. 

Sitting up from his bed and walking over to the bag he carried with him through the airport and kept with him on the plane, he scrambles through the item to find the piece of paper you forced into his hand on the driveway of his house. 

“We changed our landline yesterday, so call me on this number when you get there,” you said, pressing a kiss towards his cheek before you let him get into his mother’s car. Sunwoo promised to call back then– he hopes you don’t mind the delay. Maybe he could blame the timezones…

Hand thrusting into the front pocket of the bag, Sunwoo feels around and tries to fish out the little piece of paper. He’s 100% certain he put it there after he got into the car with his mum, making sure it’s safe and sound. He would hate to lose it– it was some sort of safety net for him. Something to fall back to, something to keep him above the water.

Panic settles in his chest when he doesn’t feel the soft piece of paper anywhere. The boy unzips all other compartments of the bag, turning it around, shaking out everything that’s inside. The phone number to your new landline has to be there somewhere in there. It needs to be.

When he doesn’t find it in his bag, he opens his closet. He throws everything out to the ground– his clothing, his shoes, the notebooks he bought for university– all in the search of the stupid, little, yet so important piece of paper. He searches through all his other bags. All pockets of his jeans, every centimeter of his folded clothing. All drawers of his desk, the whole floor, hell, he even crouches to check under his bed, blowing the dust bunnies out of reach, desperately hoping he could wish the paper into existence. He searches his bed. All possible parts where the landline number could be– some more unreasonable than others. Sunwoo feels like he is losing his mind.

The paper is nowhere in his room. It’s like it vanished. Was it really there at all? Did he dream that moment up?

Running down the stairs towards the landline, he takes the phone off the wall and punches in the numbers to your old landline, the pattern so familiar in his fingertips he couldn’t tell you the number if you asked, but he could recreate it with punching in the buttons in on any other phone in the world. He clenches his fist together, breathing more heavily as he listens in, praying for the universe to stop playing tricks on him and make you magically answer on the other side.

When the phone makes a dismissive sound, signaling that the number he called no longer exists, Sunwoo shuts the phone against the wall and takes it again, putting in your old number once more, like a summoning ritual. Maybe he put the numbers in wrong the first time… Maybe he made a mistake somewhere along the way…

When he gets the same response, he tries again. And again. And again. 

He can’t believe it. Tension settles into his shoulders, making him twirl the cord of the landline in between his fingers as a way to calm himself down, listening in to the dull noise on the other side telling him there’s nothing that can be done, nothing more that he can do. He doesn’t have the number, and somehow, although it sounds foolish, it feels like he lost you alongside it too. 

“Everything alright, man? You look–” Mark enters the room, peering at the boy with curious, worried eyes. It’s only now that Sunwoo realizes he is breathing heavily, fingers clammy on the cord, heart begging to run out of his chest to get all across the ocean to you. It’s only now that he realizes his cheeks are wet with tears, the solidification of his inner turmoil taking a physical form and appearing on his face, making him feel pathetic in front of the older boy.

Sunwoo once again puts the phone back to its original place, but this time, he doesn’t take it back and tries the useless old phone number again. Simply turning away from his roommate, he accepts his fate as he quickly puts on his shoes and slams the door shut after him, going out for a run.

Is this his punishment for waiting too long? Did the paper vanish out of his possession because he was deemed unworthy of hearing your voice? Should he have tried to look for the number earlier? Would this have prevented it?

It’s hard to run when your nose is stuffed and your breathing hitches with silenced sobs, he learns. Sunwoo doesn’t get as far as he would have liked, crumbling on a bench somewhere next to a playground, picking at the dry skin of his lips until they bleed and the irony taste on his tongue snaps him back into reality.

What was once his dream is starting to feel more like a nightmare. When he calls Eric two days after to ask him to get him your new landline number, he gets the news that you abruptly moved out to New York. 

September 2007

“If you really think about it, Y/N,” Sunwoo hums, making you shift your attention towards his serious-looking face, “we never really broke up in the first place.”

The boy is holding a bottle of cider in his hand, one of the four you got on your way to your tonight’s destination. Sunwoo rang the bell to your house a few minutes before 10 PM, and although you weren’t expecting to see him that day and you weren’t even looking as presentable as you’d like, you agreed to take a walk with him. Somehow, the two of you found yourselves climbing over the fence of your old high school, sneaking into the football field, figures settling on one of the benches of the tribune.

“Oh yeah,” you hum, lightness evident in your tone, “you just never called. What’s up with that, by the way?” you ask, snickering when you watch the male avert his gaze in a bashful manner, as if he was embarrassed to tell you his reasoning.

You take a sip of the apple cider, enjoying the sweet, fruity taste on your tongue, watching as the male contemplates his next response for a bit, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “I lost your new landline number,” he peeps, voice barely louder than a whisper.

His answer doesn’t register immediately in your brain. The words take a moment to string themselves together into a sentence, taking another few seconds before you understand the meaning of his confession. A soft laugh drags out of your throat, disbelief coating your very essence. “What?”

“Yeah,” he nods, scratching the back of his neck before looking back at you, eyes full of guilt and shame, “I… I lost the number you gave me, and when I called Eric to try to make him get me your new number, he told me you moved to New York, and I guess… I guess I took it as a sign…?” he says, shrugging.

“A sign of what?” you ask, genuinely surprised to hear his answer.

All this time, you thought he didn’t call because he didn’t want to. You thought he didn’t call because he was too busy, too tired to deal with anything else other than his career at the moment. He was trying his hardest and training every day, so you understood that he wouldn’t have time for you every day. When he didn’t call for so long, even after you moved to the States as well– you hoped he’d somehow try searching for your number even then, because in your mind, everything was possible– one day, you just… stopped waiting for him to call. You stopped hoping you would hear his voice on the other side of the line.

And you accepted it. He realized long distance relationships were too difficult to maintain, especially in that time and age, and he had too many of his own worries to take care of before focusing his attention somewhere else. You didn’t resent him, no. You longed for him, you missed him, but you never once hated him for the decision he made. You wished him well, all this time. 

“A sign that… that maybe we weren’t meant to be,” he hums, shrugging. “It sounds stupid, really, but…” he trails off, cutting himself off in the middle of the sentence.

Something about his confession makes you feel a bit lighter. Your shoulders feel like there’s no longer anything weighing them down. It’s not like you waited for an explanation all those years and when you finally got one, something in you shifted into a more comfortable position.

“For me, back then, you were the right person, wrong time. And I didn’t want to let you go, I really didn’t, it’s just… everything was already so hard and the world seemed to put so many obstacles in my way of contacting you, that I thought it was the universe telling me to drop it and let you go. So you could… so you could find someone else, I guess…” he finishes explaining. He averts his gaze from you, pointing it towards the empty field, as if scared to see your reaction to his blabbering. He takes another few sips of his cider, snickering. “It wasn’t fair of me to want you to wait for me either.”

So you could find someone else… You think back to all the times you went on dates after you concluded that your relationship with Sunwoo was over. You try to remember their faces, their mannerisms in such detail that you could only make up one of your previous lovers– the one sitting next to you right now– and you chuckle at your foolishness. Remembering how you kept comparing every new person in your life to the one that stole your heart first, remembering how you thought about him late at night, wondering where he is right now and how he’s doing. You used to look through the sports parts of newspapers, looking for his name somewhere, looking for his team name, but never seeing a glance of how he was doing. You wore the stupid friendship bracelet he gave you in your junior year around in New York, having people point it out and ask about it, all until it broke off by itself  one day and you reluctantly said goodbye to the sentiment. 

You dated around after losing contact with Sunwoo. You don’t really think you found someone else, though. 

“I wanted to wait for you, though,” you say, shuffling closer to the male on the bench, voice sincere. “It was my decision.”

“Well,” he chuckles, “life had other plans for us two.”

His sentence makes you think. A few days ago, it would make you sad. Embarrassed, even. Life had other plans for you two and they didn’t align with what you two have calculated during the summer break after your senior year. Sunwoo didn’t become a star. His football career never took off. He finished his degree and came back home, bitter and heartbroken. 

Your plans ended just as fast as you came up with them. Not going to university after high school, you were left with nothing to do. When the opportunity to take an internship for a news company in New York came to you so suddenly, you took it without thinking, trying to find your place in the big world ahead of you. You had no plan, but you think that maybe, some part of you wanted to get away from your hometown all along. You wanted to do big things, make everyone proud. Being a news anchor wasn’t even something you dreamed of when you were little, so you guess you weren't supposed to really feel that let down, but the defeat still stings.

Or, at least, it used to. You find that the failure doesn’t hurt as much anymore. 

Looking at the male next to you, you think you know the reason why. “It’s okay,” you say, shrugging, “we figured it out anyways, didn’t we?”

“Yeah,” Sunwoo sighs, looking at you with a soft smile playing with his lips. “I guess we did.”

The sound of cicadas hits your ears when you two fall into a comfortable silence. Healing old wounds was surely one of the items on your check list when you came back home, but you didn’t expect to get over things so quickly. You don’t think you would have been able to get over everything alone, though– and this makes you twice as grateful to still have Sunwoo by your side. A sense of nostalgia takes over you at the fact, but this time, it hits you with more fondness than longing for the old times.

“Remember how young we were? It’s like I still see you chasing the ball around the field when I focus hard enough,” you say, pointing ahead of you.

Sunwoo laughs, shaking his head at your antics. “Yeah. I almost see you leading the cheer practice in the back there,” he points, “in your cute cheer uniform, with the ridiculous pom poms in your hands–”

“Hey, don’t call them ridiculous,” you gasp, “they were my favorite part of the whole routine!”

“Oh, I could tell,” he laughs, poking fun at you. 

“Well, you must have liked the pom poms enough to stare at me during practice all the time,” you shrug, teasing the male back. The fact that Sunwoo had a crush on you long before you reciprocated the feelings wasn’t something you two explicitly talked about before, but you always deemed as clear as day. Or, at least, it was to everyone back then.

“I did not–” he gasps, making you gently shove him with your elbow.

“Come on, everybody used to say you had a crush on me back then,” you hum, “you were pretty obvious with it too.”

“You knew?” he looks at you, eyes big and surprised. Gears clearly running in his head, he tries to piece the information together, running through the memories now so distant, but still so clear.

“Girls always know,” you point out, shrugging. You take another sip of your cider, licking your lips after and speaking up again, tone of voice almost confidential. “I just acted like I didn’t. But then I realized I liked you back, so I was trying everything in my power to make you confess to me first. Which… took you long enough, young man,” you giggle, seeing the male shake his head at you in disapproval.

“You could’ve confessed first, if you were so confident,” he mutters, obviously a little gutted by the revelation.

“That would be below my level,” you nod, pressing your lips together into a straight line, “besides, it was fun watching you act all cute and clueless.”

“Don’t call me cute and clueless–”

“That’s what you were, though! Like the time when you got super drunk on your birthday and begged me not to leave–”

“I didn’t even like you back then!”

“Sure you didn’t.”

“I was in denial,” he furrows his brows theatrically, putting the empty glass bottle to the grass, “but I see that you had a lot of fun watching me suffer.”

“Fine, pretty boy,” you say, catching a glimpse of the boy momentarily shying away, presumably at the endearing nickname, his cheeks tinting pink even in the faint moonlight. “Would it make you feel better if I confessed first this time?”

“Huh?” the boy asks, lips parted, eyes a big, honest pool of honey.

Cute and clueless, you think.

The story comes full circle when you realize that this football field is perhaps what started it all. This is where you ran up to the new addition to the team, saying that your favorite number was on the back of his jersey. As the leader of the cheerleading team, you took it as your job to make every newbie feel welcomed– no matter if they were a fellow cheerleader or a football player. You didn’t expect for the boy to never stop wearing the number– although it was your favorite, it didn’t seem to be so important back then. (One day, you learned that Sunwoo kept the number on his jersey even after moving abroad. You read it in one of the sports magazines you foolishly flipped through in every kiosk you encountered and almost teared up in the busy store after.) 

This field is where you watched him play football every week. It’s where you both practiced, sending each other funny faces after the coach was mean to either of you for not being focused on your training. 

This is where Sunwoo found his passion– where he found his dream. This is the place that shifted the next couple of years of your life towards all sorts of directions. This is where he kissed you after winning a match, a gleeful confession slipping past his lips. This is where your relationship started, and metaphorically, also ended. The field that kept you apart is now a thousand miles away, but the one that brought you together is now right in front of you.

You guess it’s only right to use it for new beginnings.

“I think… I think I’m still in love with you, Sunwoo,” you start slowly, playing with your fingers in your lap, “well, I don’t know if my feelings for you ever ended… they could’ve, I mean, we were apart for so long… I just… all I know is that I don’t want us to be apart anymore, and I–”

Your words die on your tongue when the boy cuts you off with a kiss, the taste of apple cider mixing on your lips. The way he kisses you didn’t really change even after so many years, still swaying you with the familiarity of his loving. Still, even though you know the way he angles your jaw, the way he presses against you, the way he takes his sweet time, truly showing you how much he enjoys the act, you never grow tired of it. Something in you reacts the same way as when you were young. There’s still excitement, there’s still tender softness in your heart every time you kiss him.

His lips break apart from yours, a playful tint in his words when he speaks to you again. “Don’t try to take credit for it now,” he says, “because the last time I checked, we never really broke up in the first place, so you could say we were dating all along, all because I confessed back in–”

“God, you’re unbelievable,” you grunt.

“But you love me,” the boy says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe it is.

“Always have,” you say, pressing a quick peck to his plush lips, “always will.”

The starlight glazes your cheekbones when you rest your forehead against his, as if to send him a telepathic message that is worth more than a thousand words. It’s hard to find the words to explain the mixture of your emotions right now, but when your memory washes up the encouraging monologue Sunwoo offered to you when you first arrived, you finally agree with his sentiment. Perhaps, one word could summarize it all– you feel truly content. 

They say you never forget about your first love. At 25 and still counting, you guess you could say that’s true.

[most-creature-vibe-tournament]

FINALS!!!

Propaganda:

Taylor Hebert (Worm (webserial by Wildbow))

Human girl who has superpowers that let her control bugs. She shunts all emotions off into her swarm of bugs, leaving her totally blank and stoic. She outsources sensory-input to her bugs, so she never looks or reacts to anything. In a fight, she reacts to opponents there is no possible way she could see, because she sensed them with her bugs. Overall has virtually no facial tells and moves in a way that makes her seem like she isn't a person. very creature <3 she is just a bug girl

shes such a FREAK. shes completely human (tho with an eldritch alien creature extradimensionally attached to her mind) but God does she not act like it sometimes. she has the superpower to control bugs and uses it to become the worlds most terrifying hero slash villain slash warlord slash apocalyptic threat. she has her bugs crawling all over her all the time. she uses a swarm of flies to scout out areas and then leaves flies in everybodys hair so she can keep track of where they are. she practiced having her bugs make noises until she figured out how to combine their noises into human speech so now she can talk through her swarm. she makes decoys of herself out of large pillars of bugs. once she was concussed and in the hospital and subconsciously calling her bugs to her so she was just covered in insects while the doctor tried to help her. then there was ANOTHER time she was hospitalized and got bored so she made a bunch of bugs so a little dance on her chest. whenever she's in costume and talking she has her bugs make noises to distort her voice and make her sound more scary and she doesnt even realize shes doing it anymore. she surrounds herself in a swarm to disorient her enemies. she doesn't even notice when her hair covers her eyes or anything like that because shes scouting out the area using her bugs so she doesnt have to see. she once used a tide of bugs to clean herself off and dust off her dress after having sex.

#she views herself as more of a swarm of bugs with a girl-shaped computer to control them than a girl herself#her body is just an extension of her bugs which is large and inconvenient but ultimately part of the weapon

#taylor “dissociates into bugs” hebert#taylor “keeps bugs in her hair” hebert#taylor “choke them with bugs” hebert#taylor “no one could ever love me” hebert#taylor “violence is always the answer” hebert

#normally i would want a worm character to win#but#bdubs is a strange little man. he's unusual.#Taylor's just got the 'tism.

she literally is a walking superorganism comprised of one human and a lot more bugs to the point where she frequently moves her head as if she can see through walls (with her bugs, she can), talks through her bugs, has been described like a corpse whose ghost is living on in her swarm, keeps functioning thru her bugs even when her human body is out for the count, et cetera. no disrespect intended but genuinely what in the world are you talking about. She cleans her pussy off with bugs after fucking. Her pussy. With bugs. And she thinks it's normal. Because the bugs are part of her. Is this thing on. I reiterate that she literally requires an emotional support cloak of bugs. She is so dissociated from being an actual person that she treats her human body like an inconvenience and her bugs like the primary operators. Is This Thing On.

#now i told myself i wouldnt comment anything on the rb... but#“She cleans her pussy off with bugs after fucking. Her pussy. With bugs.” CHAT IS THAT FUCKIN REAL??? IS THAT CANON???#cause if thats just a hc thats wild and i dont know if its better or worse if its canon#propaganda

this is indeed canon! there is a scene where, after fucking her boyfriend in an abandoned building, she stands up and cleans dust/etc off her naked ass body by having her bugs run across her and clean her, which presumably translates to "they are eating the dirt/sweat/etc off her." her boyfriend smiles affectionately at this, because he also has something wrong with him. she also does things like use bugs and spider silk to deliver her toothbrush straight to her hand in the morning while monologuing about "checking in on her hive" (her hive is the people in her villain territory.) she is a walking panopticon. her friends sometimes talk to bugs under the assumption it's taylor watching them and they're always right. at one point she confusedly asks someone if he's arachnophobic because he doesn't want her 10k black widow spiders to live in his apartment with him. she is basically like if a cockroach was a girl. I would never lie to you about Taylor Hebert, Unsung Champion of Polls About Weird Characters.

#taylor ofc#wait hey those are my tags as propaganda!! cool!#i stand by it#anyways yeah one of her main character traits when looked at by an outside perspective is just how WEIRD she is#everyone thinks she's a freak#even when you're reading her POV you sometimes have to stop and be like 'hey girl what the fuck'#one time she put bugs on her boyfriend's dick

She also turns into a bug monster at one point. Not all on her own, but she very much turns into a bug monster. Literally And Physically.

And she uses this to survive like a cockroach, she had Just Been Ripped In Fucking Half and thrown in the ocean to die and BOOM. bug monster transformation (with a little help) climb out and keep fighting, against an opponent so vast and powerful a human couldn't even comprehend his true form (not eldritch cognitohazard, just planet-sized + multidimensional), who could kill her in an instant. She's always surviving against the odds she's so cockroach coded (affectionate!) #@ pollrunner if you're still accepting propaganda please take the 'turns into a bug monster' as propaganda#the rest can be ignored or trimmed to 'she's always surviving she's so cockroach coded' but pleamse. the Time she Became A Bug

#she's such a freak!!!#she kills like it's the only thing she was built how to do#she kills people and things like it's chess and she's a grandmaster#as soon as the violence is off she's just a fucked up offputting little one woman panopticon

One of my favourite descriptions of Taylor from someone else's POV, from Interlude 14.

“A figure stood behind Yan. Her costume was barely recognizable—She wore a short cape of tattered black cloth over her body armor, a skintight black suit beneath that, and there were folds of black cloth draped around her legs like a dress or a robe. The entire fabric seemed to ripple and move. It took Sierra a second to realize it was crawling with a carpet of insects.”

“The disconcerting part was the girl’s face, or lack thereof. Her expression was masked behind a shifting mass of bugs that moved in and out of her hairline. Sierra couldn’t even tell where the bugs ended and the scalp began, as the small black bodies crawled into and onto the black curls. There was a hint of something like glass where Skitter’s eyes were, but the bugs ventured far enough over her eyelids and around the frames that nothing was visible in the way of goggles, glasses or skin.”

“Skitter hadn’t made a sound as she entered. She hadn’t spoken, and her footsteps had been quiet.”

#taylor “driving while blind wasn’t as hard as I’d thought it would be” hebert#taylor “hangs out in superpowered darkness for a long time without being at all worried” hebert#taylor “fools a near-perfect lie detecting hero by offloading her emotions on her bugs” hebert#taylor “figures out how to communicate with the Dog Autism girl like right away” hebert

#taylor hebert kill them with your self-sustained insectoid dehumanity!

Jonny d’Ville (The Mechanisms)

Since we’re not technically human

He’s so feral hes canonically committed every single crime theres a name for i think he deserves to have a tail that flicks around when hes being mischevous. perhaps some horns or fangs as well. as a treat

Idk why but he's a feral creature

Have you seen the man? Especially in that one picture where he is fully on the wall.

absolutely no canon implications that he isn't human, but that man* absolutely has a tail. and sharp teeth. and creature ears. he purrs but he pretends he doesn't and if you bring it up he'll bite you. he's had rabies more times than you can count.

#Just sayin#Johnny eats people and says it's not cannibalism if you aren't human

#DID LYF SING THE PART IN SLEEPING BEAUTY? NO. VOTE JONNY

#Jonny’s a creature#vote Jonny

#sorry for that Hermitfans but my boy Jonny is feral and i think he is a creature

#chat vote jonny#HES LITERALLY JUST A LITTLE CRITTER PLEASE

#look at that face#he’s a creacher

#it's jonny d'ville i don't have any more to say

All crimes but sex crimes, because Jonny isn’t a MONSTER

#JONNY#i'm so sorry pearl you are too well adjusted for this#he's got devil in his name#(that he gave himself because he's a huge fucking nerd)

#LITERALLY LOOK AT HIM THE GREMLIN ENERGY IS OFF THE CHARTS

#voted jonny for the rabies

also. hold up. the pearl propaganda is saying to vote for her because she's an alien and a bloodthirsty fighter? BOY DO I HAVE NEWS FOR YOU ABOUT JONNY FUCKING D'VILLE

five am pearl this five am pearl that, jonny's just like that all the time

#please vote jonny. i know we're pitting two bad bitches against each other but jonny has tried to eat a guitar

#CMON GUYS VOTE JONNY D’VILLE HES SUCH A CREATURE#HAVE YOU SEEN HIM??? HAVE YOU HEARD HIM TALK ABOUT THE OCTOKITTENS???#VOTE JONNY

#Jonny is such a creature

#jonny is literally THE creature

#come on vote Jonny that thing is creachur incarnate#and he can sing#his fave food is human flesh and more violence

Jonny man entire existence is teeth claws belts and trauma

#that guy is so feral#just vote jonny#also there was this one time where he found a half dead dude on the moon and brang it home to show to his gay pirate friends#just sayin#and also this harmonica solo over his father's dead body in one eyed jacks#iconic#anyway vote jonny

#literally jonny bites people and eats them regularly