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#n one of my friends (don't remember who) was like 'yo you good?' n i was like 'yeah they just want me to be their medic'

sohnric · 3 months

Text

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.

#deoboyznet #sunwoo #the boyz #sunwoo fluff #sunwoo x reader #sunwoo angst #the boyz angst #the boyz fluff #the boyz x reader #the boyz scenario #the boyz imagine #sunwoo scenario #sunwoo imagine

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wishlistcharles · 3 months

Text

finally → ln4

lando norris x plus size!fem reader

genre: best friends to lovers

cw: 18+ MDNI, smut, p in v, oral (fem receiving), slight angst, slight dom lando, slight dirty talk, pls let me know if I am forgetting anything

word count: 4.9k

sidenote: hi everyone! this is my first fanfic that I have ever written so please excuse if its not the best, I hope to get better with time. I want to take requests so if ya'll have any lmk! this is also not beta read, sorry if there are little mistakes. I also tried to not make the reader self deprecating but insecurities are a thing so it was a bit hard to find a balance.

♡♡♡♡

You and Lando had been friends for as long as you could remember. It was a crucial part of your weekends growing up hoping in the car with his family and watching his karting tournaments. You knew from a very young age Lando would be one of the greats, he would make it to f1. That always scared you, not because you didn't want him to achieve his dreams but because you were scared of losing him. But throughout your friendship he had stayed loyal to you.

Growing up, it was like Lando was your protector, he still kinda is to be honest. You were a big girl, there was no hiding it. Now that you are older, you’ve began to love and accept your body, but it took a lot of practice. So much so that even Lando has had his fair share of putting his two cents in. He was never embarrassed of you or tried to hide you away, even as he got more popular.

You remember when you were around 15, you were sitting in the stands next to his mom when you overheard some of the other drivers' friends talk about you.

“God how is he not embarrassed to be hanging out with someone who looks like her” and so on. You had felt mortified that day, you went home and cried to your mom. When the next weekend came you made up an excuse why you couldn't go and the same went on for the next couple of weekends until Lando showed up at your doorstep.

“You're ignoring me, and don't say you aren't” said a pouty 15 year old Lando. “I'm not ignoring you, Lando, just maybe it's best if I don't go to all your karting tournaments”. You immediately regret what came out of your mouth because the last thing you ever wanted was to make Lando feel like you have, less than.

“Who are you to decide what's best and what isn't?” you weren't used to this type of Lando, he never got mad at you or raised his voice. Being the emotional teenager you were, tears welled in your eyes and a few strayed away down your cheeks. Suddenly Lando grabbed you and pulled you into a hug. You have always been bigger than him but shorter as well. You felt small in his embrace. Even if in the back of your head you knew that was a lie. “What happened y/n, tell me so I can make this better”

“ I don't want to embarrass you” you said into his chest. “embarrass me how?”.

“I overheard some of the other driver's friends talking about me and my weight, and they are right, I don't want to embarrass you, racing is your life, Lando, I can’t ruin that”.

You felt his chest rise and fall. “Tell me who told you that, now” he said in a cold distant tone, Lando never got angry, except on the track. “No I'm not going to tell you, because I don’t need you getting in trouble”. He looked a bit deflated after you refused to tell him but he continued to talk.

“Y/n listen to me, you are one of the best things to happen to me, your weight has and will not ever matter to me. The fact that you think it would tells me that I haven’t been doing a good enough job at showing you how much you mean to me. Racing these past weekends without you have been hell, i need you, you are my best friend” the friend part rings in your ears. You realize that’s what you’ll only ever be to him - a friend. Even if you desperately wanted more.

Things get a lot better after that. You got to his tournaments loud and proud, and now 9 years later you are still doing the same. The problem is that you are still desperately in love with your best friend. Having to see Lando date girls who looked nothing like you made you feel a pit in your stomach. You knew you never had a chance with him, but it hurt so bad. The kind of hurt that made you want to cry and throw up. You couldn’t lose him though, so you played the role as his bigger best friend, that he just couldn’t shake off.

Lando once called you his good luck charm, saying that race weekends where you weren’t in the grandstands were ten times harder. Once he made it to formula 1 it made it harder to go to all his races, but you tried. Even when Lando would have his girlfriends you were still there, sitting right next to them. If people knew how you felt, they would pity you. That’s why you knew it was time to try and find a boyfriend, you couldn’t pine after Lando for the rest of your life, even if your heart wanted to.

As you’ve gotten older you’ve learned to love and embrace your body. You know you looked good when you put on a dress that showed your thick thighs. Every race weekend you are dressed to the nines, make up, hair, everything done. You do this for yourself but also because you want to look good for Lando even if you tell yourself that’s not the reason.

It wasn’t until this year you finally started taking dating seriously. At Silverstone this year, Lando had given you paddock tickets. You always tried to deny them by saying it was important that his family had paddock tickets but he insisted. This is when you met Mark, one of mclarens engineers. He was sweet, funny enough, tall, cute, everything a girl could want, but he wasn’t Lando. You followed him though on instagram because you told yourself you were not gonna pine over Lando this year, you were gonna find a partner who loved and supported you.

It didn’t take long before Lando had found out that you were following each other. Asking curious questions “hey how do you and mark know each other?” He questioned. “oh we met at silver stone and he asked to follow” in hindsight maybe you shouldn’t have told him that because he proceeds to tell you how Mark is a terrible person, boring, mean all of the above. A part of you knew Lando was lying but you wouldn’t jeopardize his career by dating one of his race engineers.

It’s race weekend in Austin and you were able to fly out and watch Lando race. He had an amazing race, to celebrate he wanted to go clubbing which was a rare occasion after his DJing side career. You looked in the mirror before you left your room and you looked so good. Your dress showed off all your features and your makeup looked great. You weren’t the type for one night stands but you were gonna find someone tonight.

After arriving at the club with Lando and his friends you found yourself alone at the bar. Lando was a popular person and you don't need his attention constantly. You took this opportunity to look cute and hopefully approachable. It wasn't long before a guy had offered to buy you a drink, and another one, and another one. After your third vodka cranberry you had started to feel tipsy but you were still fully aware of your surroundings so when the handsome guy in front of you pulled you on the dance floor you obliged.

You felt good and it was rare you ever let yourself go like this. The club started playing Spanish music and you found yourself grinding on this stranger. Your body felt flushed, like you needed to be touched and this random man was doing the trick. His hand gripped tightly on your hips and his head placed between the junction of your neck and shoulder placing hungry kisses. Just as you are about to suggest you guys get out of here, a pair of strong hands pulls you out of the man's grip. “Come on y/n where are leaving, the cars are here” Lando whispered in your ear, you couldn’t quite place his tone.

“It’s okay Lando, you go ahead I’ll meet you guys there” you said hoping he got the hint but of course he didn’t. “No i'm not leaving you alone with this guy, come on let’s go” he said, slightly tugging at you. The random guy, whose name you still don’t know, steps in, “dude she doesn’t want to go, let her stay with me”. You see something shift in Lando, something possessive? “Mate she’s mine so I suggest backing the fuck off”.

That sobered you up real quick. Instead of feeling happy he called you his, you were fueming. He had no right to do that, he wants to cockblock you and for what. At this point you walk past them and head towards the exit, it’s not long before Lando is at your side in the car trying to talk to you. “Y/n I’m sorry, talk to me”, you don’t, you ignore him the entire way back to the hotel. You let tears fall down your face because all you wanted was to have a random hookup, something that you could leave back in the states and forget about, someone that you didn’t have to worry about his opinion on your weight afterwards. But Lando went and did this and you don’t know why.

He followed you to your hotel room and you finally let him have it. “ How dare you do that, you had no right to do that Lando” he opens his mouth to say something but you stop him. “ No, let me talk, I just wanted one night where I could be with a guy carefree and not have to worry about what others thought, Lando I’m a grown adult I don’t need you to save me, you don’t understand what it’s like to be like me. I love you Lando but I can’t keep myself available forever hoping and waiting that you’ll finally love me ". That last part wasn’t meant to come out but you were so mad at him you didn’t care.

You see a shift in his face. “You can’t say I’m yours when I’m not, because I never have been, the girls that are yours don’t look like me Lando. And I’ve accepted that because I love you and will always support you, even if it feels like there is a knife digging in my chest every time I see you with a new girl”. Tears again are welling in your eyes but you are doing your best not to let them fall.

“I love you Lando but I can’t be your friend if you don’t let me go, you can’t keep stringing me along as your best friend who acts like your girlfriend, do you know how pathetic I look next to your past girlfriends, pining after you. I was the one who made sure you were prepared before every race, I was the one who stayed up late picking you up from clubs, I was the one who held your neck up after your first F1 race because it hurt so bad. Not once did I ever ask for something in return because you are my best friend and I love you, but Lando I’m begging you, I can’t be alone forever you need to let me try and be with someone. You mean the world to me Lando and I need you in my life, but I can’t go on like this” he looked stunned. But found the words he wanted to say.

“Can i talk now y/n” he looked angry, you nodded. “Not once have I ever forced you to be there for me, but I know you were there because you cared for me and I care for you too, even though you think I don’t. But not once have I ever wanted you to feel pity or pathetic, y/n you are the most important woman in my life besides my mom and sisters but you mean everything to me and I’m sorry it took me this long to realize it. Seeing you with that guy made me physically sick, not because of how you guys looked, god y/n you looked so good tonight but he was grabbing on you and touching you, but I knew I couldn’t be mad because he was doing what I have been wanting to do for years, he just had the balls to do it, oh my god I can’t believe you thought I would ever think of you like that, y/n I’m in love with you and I have been for years, I was just too much of a coward to show it, I want you to be mine”

In that moment everything seemed like it would be okay, you didn’t think about what the press would think or his other friends, all that mattered was him. You nodded. “Lando that’s all I’ve ever wanted was to be yours” before you knew it he was walking towards you and placing you in a firm kiss.

You have had your fair share of kisses but none of them like this, this kiss made your knees weak, it made you want to crumble to the ground. He moved his hand from your cheeks down to your waist giving them a hard squeeze, sending shocks of pleasure down your pelvic area.

You both pull away panting when he places his forehead on yours, “you don’t know how mad I got when he was touching you, the way you let him grind up on you and kiss your neck, I wanted to beat the shit out of him”. You rebuttal by saying “while now you know how I’ve felt for years seeing you with girls, even the ones who talked shit about me, I wanted to fight them all”.

This seemed to catch Lando by surprise “which ones talked shit about you?” “Babes half of them did, I chalked it up to them being jealous but it didn’t hurt any less”. “Fuck y/n I’m so sorry I never even loved any of them that’s the worst part of it, I was just trying to feel a void in my heart”. You went to hug him, placing your head on his chest.

“Y/n I’m sorry I was an idiot and it took this long for me to realize my feelings and I’m sorry you got hurt in the process” said Lando

“No don’t apologize, deep down a part of me knew that if we were ever together, it would make things harder for your career, you would get so much hate”

“Even if it did, I would walk to the ends of the earth for you, no public option would change that”

Something hot grew inside of you and you crashed your lips to his, you wanted him. He fisted his hand in your hair lightly pulling it, that made you moan into his mouth. You could feel him smirk. Your hands settled under his shirt, mostly because your hands are cold but because you want to feel him. All of a sudden Landos hands traveled their way down your back and settled on your ass, gripping hard he stopped kissing you and whispered, “this ass is mine, don’t forget that”. You gasp and nod, you want nothing more than for Lando to take you right now.

You slow down your kiss to talk “ Lando I want you so bad” “ I do to baby” with that you start to pull off his shirt showing his toned chest. It’s not like you’ve never seen him shirtless before because you have but this was different. You stare “you like what you see baby?” lando asked in a teasing tone. You bite your lip and nod.

Lando starts to take your dress off and you panic. You grab his hands, “wait can I keep my dress on”

Lando gives you a look, and you can already tell what's going to come out of his mouth. You want to stop him because he knows you are pretty and your body is pretty but being naked in front of your best friend of 17 plus years is intimate. And it's not that you don't trust him but you can't help but feel the slightest bit insecure. Let's be honest you knew deep down Lando has never been with a girl who looked like you. Lando starts to say “if you want to keep it on you can, I would never pressure you to take it off but I want you to know I think you are the prettiest girl in the world. You don’t know how hot and bothered you would get me showing up to race weekends dressed in short skirts and your tits about to pop out”. In the back of your head you want to keep hearing his vulgar mouth, it does something to you. In response, you nod, slowly taking off your dress. You were left in nothing but your bra and underwear. “Fuck” you hear Lando whisper. Suddenly he’s attacking your neck, leaving harsh kisses.

You feel his stubble, his goatee rubs against the base of your neck. “You look so fucking good y/n, can’t wait to have you wrapped around me” You feel yourself get shy, you’ve thought about this moment a lot and now that it’s finally happening you want to do so much. Lando seems to notice your timidness and asks what’s wrong. “Nothing, I’ve just played this up in my head so much I want to be good for you” you reply.

“Yeah you want to be my good girl huh? Don’t worry baby I have no doubt in my mind you are going to be amazing and listen to me” you feel yourself falling into a submissive space.

Lando continues to kiss you all while walking you both to the bed and gently laying you down. You have your hands loosely attached around his neck, so him breaking away is no surprise. “Gonna eat you out baby, can I?” Lando asks licking his lips

You nod your head furiously, it’s been forever since the last time you’ve had sex and even longer since someone has gone down on you.

As Lando kisses his way down your body, you feel a flood of wetness starting to pull at your core. Your body felt like it was on fire. “Lift your hips up” he commanded. You listen and do what is asked.

You feel the cool air make contact with your pussy, sending shivers all throughout your body. “You have such a pretty pussy, so wet just for me huh? I bet you taste so good y/n'' Lando speaks in a seductive tone.

All you can do is let out a strangled whine. Desperate to have his mouth on you. He makes you wait a bit longer, he’s a tease at heart and you knew this. He sends kisses up and down your thighs, your stomach. Finally he places a kiss directly on your clit and proceeds to blow a puff of air. “Please Lando please, I need you” you beg, who knew you would be this far gone. “Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna take care of you” and with that he attaches his lips around your clit sucking lightly. This makes you arch your back and your hands fly into his hair, gripping it tight. It’s almost too much, he notices and starts to lick around your vulva getting you more wet than you already were.

You are a moaning mess at this point, your hands keep pulling at his hair getting a moan out of him. He looks up at you and asks “gonna stick my fingers in you is that okay” you already feel so fucked out that all you can do is nod dumbly.

You feel his middle finger slowly sink into your heat. Lando didn’t have the thickest fingers but they were long, you let out a gasp when the single digit sinks in.

Lando continues to suck and lick around your clit. It’s not long before you start to feel a coil tighten in your lower stomach. If he continues to do what he’s doing you know you are going to come within the matter of minutes. It almost makes you sad because if this was a one time thing, you want to come around his cock, to be close with him. You open your mouth to voice your concern “Lando I’m going to come soon, stop, wanna come around your cock”

He looks up at you, “you can come more than once right? Want you to come all over my face then again on my cock. You can do that right? You can be a good girl for me”. You nod desperately, his words send you further over the edge. You feel his lips engulf your clit and moan sending vibrations throughout your body. He has since added another finger slowly rocking back and forth into you.

You feel your coil snap and a gush of wetness leaves you. You couldn’t even announce that you were coming but Lando got the gist. But he wanted to be a little bastard and play rough. He continued to suck and lick around your bundle of nerves, despite you being sensitive from your orgasm. You whine and try to close your legs around his head. But he only forces them open with his hand.

“Lan please, I want your cock, wanna come again” you hear yourself slur your words. You don’t care at this point because all you want is to feel his body flush against yours.

“How can I say no to you, pretty girl” when Lando comes face to face with you, you see how slick and wet his mouth and chin is. Something primal takes over you and you grab him roughly kissing and licking into his mouth. Lando moans into it and says “you like tasting yourself on me huh? You are so fucking dirty, who knew my best friend and the girl I am in love with would have such a nasty fucking mouth and like such dirty things”.

You can’t even bring yourself to reply because all you want right now is to have his cock in you. You settle for a nod and slowly bring your hands down to his boxers and begin to pull. At some point when you can’t pull them off anymore, he takes over and does it. His cock springs out and all you can do is stare at it.

You are a bit ashamed to say you had imagined what it looked like, but the real thing was 10 times better than what you could ever imagine. He was average in length, but thick and curved to the right slightly. He was well groomed just like you knew he would be. Your mouth watered at the sight, if you weren’t in such a hurry to have him in you, you could sit with him in your mouth for hours. You want to touch so you bring your hand to wrap around the base of his cock.

The first drag up there is a little resistance because he is dry, so you reach down and grab some of your wetness and lubricate him up. This makes the motion go much smoother. When he sees you do this, he moans. “Fuck y/n you are so hot, I can’t believe we waited this long to do something. I need to be with you”.

You want him to go bare but as much as you love Lando you know you both should be tested before you do it. “Condom?” You manage to croak out. He nods and hops over to his jeans and fishes one out of his wallet. You want to make fun of him for having one stashed away there but you let it slide. While he's doing this you pull off your bra, hoping to surprise him.

As he comes back to the bed his eyes are wide. “You have the prettiest tits y/n, they drive me crazy, I felt like such a perv getting hard in my fireproof seeing you in the paddock, talking away. You had no idea huh? No idea that you made me feel this way” he questioned

You shake your head no in response.

As he’s in front of you, you see him roll the condom over his shaft. This is really happening. “I want to see your face when you come, can we stay like this?” Lando questions. “Of course, I wouldn't have it any other way” you say in a soft tone.

He slowly starts to enter you. The stretch is tight, it burns in the slightest. It feels like the air is being punched out of you. It’s been a while since you’ve had anyone in you so the burn is to be expected, but it’s not unwelcome. You grab Landos arm for support, he notices your discomfort. “Do you want me to stop, baby? You are so tight, you feel so good”. You shake your head, that’s the last thing you want.

“No, just been a while since I’ve had anything in me, you are so thick just give me a minute to adjust” you say

“Of course, take your time” Lando says while kissing your neck, it helps distract you from the pain. He’s fully in now, it’s just a matter of when you are ready to let him move. You let your body adjust for about a minute when you say “you can move”.

Lando slowly starts to rock back and forth in you. The burn is still there but it’s a delicious kind of sensation. Something you feel like you could get addicted to. You look between your bodies and see your stomach. For once you like the contrast of how your bodies look together. Only Lando could ever make you feel this way, you were sure of it.

You feel Lando breathing heavily into your neck, soft moans slipping out every so often. You can’t wait to do more with him. One particular trust has you clenching around him, he lifts his head and says “fuck you feel so good around me, like you were made for me y/n, you pull me in so good”

This almost brings tears to your eyes, for so long you had been there for him, helped him through thick and thin and he’s always been grateful but his praise is making you melt, pushing you closer to the edge.

Your hands are currently at his back slightly clawing away, you know you couldn’t leave marks but you needed something to grab on to. You felt so full, you knew in a matter of minutes you were gonna come around him. “I feel like i'm gonna come soon” you say. “Same, you feel to good around me I can’t hold it off much longer”

He reaches between your bodies and starts to rub your clit, slowly in circular motions. This sends a shot of pleasure through your body as a reaction you wrap your legs around him.

Suddenly he pulls all the way out and you begin to whine but he slams all the way back in. You moan at the abrupt roughness. He moves back and forth with vigor, determined to get you both off at the same time.

“I'm gonna come” you say when you feel pleasure finally reaching its highpoint. You are clenching, you can feel it. Only seconds later Lando mumbles in your ear that he's reached his high as well. Taking a moment before he pulls out he kisses you all over, your cheeks, forehead, lips. You don't want to let him go but you know you need to go pee and he needs to take his condom off.

When you both return to bed you nestle your face into his neck, his scruff scratching the side of your head. There was no other place in this world you would rather be than in his arms, and yeah that may sound dramatic but he was everything you wanted.

He looked down at you with the warmest eyes. “You are amazing, you know that. If it wasn’t clear before, I want it all with you. You are everything y/n and it’s time for me to start showing you how much I love you and appreciate you. If you’re in, I’m in”

“Of course I’m in you muppet”

You bring your lips to his for a soft peck. For once in the 17 years of your friendship, everything seemed to finally feel like it was going to be okay, and you couldn’t wait for the wild adventure it would be to be Lando Norris’ girlfriend.

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moralesmilesanhour · 10 months

Note

Hello!!! How are you? I’ve been a follower for the past few days and was wondering if I could request something.

I was hoping to request a fic or like give you a prompt for something for miles42 × femreader

So it goes like this- yk those super corny reads that are like the reader's pinning for miles and like sometimes miles finds them annoying but in a cute way but he don't know that her yk? So he's talking to his homeboys about her, talm about some how she's so "annoying, a nuisance" and guess who's behind the wall listening? The reader herself.

So this goes one of two ways- she either matches up there, confronts him. And she's like "flipping fine, if that's how you feel then lemme get out of ur way- you won't hear a peep from me" and she like just ignores him and he learns how he feels about her, sees how his life is so boring without her and all that- goes to apologize happy ending..

Option number 2: silent treatment. Like just slowly drifting away until he once again comes to the realization that he needs her and all that happy ending yay!

Feel free to do whatever you want with this but I'm thinking of sending the same request to other authors to see what they come up with cause everyone has a style k? And i just love studying them and reading them cause evervtime- no matter how similar the prompt is- they always manage to invoke different feelings with in me.

Anyway- have fun doing this- but remember you don't have to cause this is kinda too much and I'm sorry😓

"I want my pen back."

wc: >1,200 A/N: okay so i got a bit carried away...this is a long one. (yes I am using this as an excuse to try out the gradient thing) thank you anon for this fun request! i also rlly like ur reasoning behind it and i hope i was able to do this prompt some type of justice lol

The gel pen clattered to the ground.

“I got it,” you said, grinning at Miles. You squat to grab it before the boy can act to get it himself, and he sighs as you hand it to him.

“Thanks.”

Miles turned the pen every which way between his fingers.

You had gifted it to him on the first day of school, with that same expectant grin. The little cartoon dogs that surrounded the perimeter had begun to fade with use because – admittedly – it had actually turned out to be a good ass pen.

He’d thought initially that you were just being nice; maybe you were handing shit out to everyone because it was the first day, understandable.

But then, it was highlighters (the erasable ones).

Pink sticky-notes on his locker, telling him to have a nice day with the ‘i’s dotted with hearts.

A new sketchbook for Secret Santa.

Miles’ pencil case had rapidly gotten bulkier, and when you rushed to grab a seat next to him during the one class without assigned seats, it finally clicked.

You were trying to get his attention. And he wasn’t sure what would happen if you got it.

“I like the new braids.”

He was snapped out of his thoughts, and turned to you.

“Huh?”

“The braids,” you laughed. “I like the pattern. Who did ‘em for you?”

A tiny smirk ghosted the boy’s lips.

“My mom. Just like the last time you asked me.”

He ran a hand instinctively over the meandering zig-zag pattern that his cornrows had been sectioned into. Miles looked at you from his periphery; you were still staring.

“Bitch, just ask him out already!”

Your friend smacked the back of your shoulder as the two of you took your sweet time getting back to your lockers.

“Alright, today, I swear,” you said, hand over your heart for emphasis.

A beat of silence passes. “But what if he says no?”

She groaned.

“Then he says no, and you can save your money. But say something, it’s getting embarrassing.”

Your friends’ encouragement landed you here, around the corner of a building where Miles and a gaggle of other boys from your homeroom were bursting into raucous laughter.

“Yo, why you ain’t bag her yet? She wants you bad,” one boy said.

Unsure if the ‘she’ in question was you, you stay where you are and keep listening.

“I dunno, she kinda annoying,”

Miles’ low voice makes your ears perk up.

“One day she gon’ run outta things to say about my hair, she has to!”

…Oh.

The buoyant feeling in your chest sinks as the group erupts into another laughing fit. If you asked him out now, you’d hear about it for the rest of the year.

Shoving your phone into your pocket, you turn back the way you came.

Miles knew something was off when you sat down the next morning without a word.

“You good?” he asked.

You glanced at him, then nodded before going back to playing with the beads in your hair. The excruciating silence stretched on for almost the entirety of class before it was broken again.

“Do you…wanna help me with my homework? I’ll really let you, this time.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Morales, you got an ‘A’ in every class.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Your name’s on every bulletin board.”

“Damn,” the boy muttered to himself as his leg bounced under the desk.

Your beads clattered against your back as you rose from your seat. The bell had rung, finally. You didn’t even say ‘bye’.

Miles cracked open his locker. One of your sticky notes from last week had begun to un-stick and fluttered to the ground. There were no new ones. He bent to pick it up, noticing how neat and round your handwriting was on these compared to the way you wrote in class. The letters didn’t run together, like you were in a rush.

Neatly folding the note and sticking it in his pocket, Miles shut his locker to reveal your face. The boy nearly yelped in surprise.

“Where the hell did you come from? Scared the shit outta me,” he said with a grin.

“I want my pen back.”

Miles froze.

“Which pen?”

You tilted your chin up towards the one he was currently gripping in his left hand. He looked down at it like a wad of cash.

“Oh.”

He couldn’t just not give the pen back to you…

…but he didn’t want to give it to you, either.

“What you need it for? Don’t you have, like, a whole store full of these?”

“Miles, I gotta get to class. I’m not playing,” you reached for Miles’ hand, but he raised it high above his head.

Instead of a smirk or mocking sneer, something like worry was etched onto the boy’s features.

“Tell me what’s up witchu first.”

“What are you talking about? I’m about to be late, c’mon.”

“You ain’t said a word to me all day,” he dropped his hand momentarily. “Are you sick? Did I do something? What–hey!”

You had snatched the pen out of the boy’s hand when he wasn’t looking, throwing it into your bag.

“I thought that’s what you wanted.”

You turn to retreat down the hallway, but stop with a huff when Miles calls after you.

“Wait!”

“I’m waiting.”

“Come see me after school?”

You kicked an empty can down the sidewalk in front of Miles’ apartment.

“Make this quick, I gotta go study.”

He looks everywhere else to avoid meeting your eyes, looking for the right words.

“You didn’t answer me earlier,” Miles awkwardly shuffled his feet. “Are you mad at me?”

“...Yeah, kinda.”

“For what?”

You stop to think for a moment, crossing your arms.

“For…for letting me hand you that pen, knowing you weren’t gonna give it back,” you began.

Miles’ brows furrowed in confusion. “That’s it?”

You shook your head profusely, “N-no, I’m not done. You let me buy you all that stuff, put all that dumb shit in your locker, whole time you don’t even like me–”

“You don’t know that,” Miles interrupted. Your head snapped up to look at him, and you paused.

“I don’t?”

Neither of you say anything for a moment, then Miles remembers the note in his pocket. He takes it out and shows it to you.

“These? Are cute as fuck,”

He searches for more words, ten continues, "A-and I use that sketchbook every day. That pen? It’s like, my favorite,” he laughs. “I got half a mind to steal it back from you.”

Miles watches you expectantly. Your arms are still crossed, but the corners of your lips quirk up in amusement.

“So you like getting free stuff.”

“No-! I…”

The boy’s arms had begun to flail around in frustration. You hold back a giggle, never having seen him squirm like this before. It’s a nice change of pace.

“Alright, listen. I like hearing you talk to me every morning, and…”

He trailed off. He had begun slightly bouncing on his toes.

“...I like you.”

At some point while watching Miles struggle to explain himself, the float-y feeling in your chest had come back. You tilted your head to the side, and smiled.

“Okay. What are you gonna do about it?”

The boy’s eyes lit up.

“Where do you wanna go?”

#earth 42 miles morales #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spider verse spoilers #moralesanhour #requests

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iateyourparents · 6 months

Text

hickey prank | c.b.

pairing: colby brock x fem!reader

summary: you make a hickey prank on your boyfriend.

warnings: use of y/n, bad writing and grammar(I'm sorry but english is not my first language), suggestion of cheating(?), wasn't proofread

an: it's my first ever post here so pls don't judge me too much 😭🙏🏻

pictures are from pinterest:)

"Hi everyone!" you waved to the camera "Today, I'm with Kat" Katrina smiled at the camera saying hello "And we will be pranking my boyfriend!"

"Yay!" Katrina shouted. "If you're watching this Colby, I'm not sorry." she winked.

You laughed and started explaining to your viewers what exactly you have planned. "So I will be doing hickeys prank on Colby and at first I wanted to just fake them with make up but my incredible friend here" you pointed at Katrina who just smiled widely "Said it's too boring, so guess what! She will be making my hickeys!"

"Yes! So let's get to work."

You both sat at your bed and you were telling your viewers a story about how you thought about this prank while Katrina was sucking on your neck, sometimes stopping to add something to your story.

"Okay, oh my god, Katrina!" you screamed with wide eyes looking at the mirror. She did a good job. Maybe too good.

Your neck now had three big, red hickeys.

"I'm not sure if Colby will be the only one jealous." you laughed "Sorry Sam" you winked at the camera and Kat laughed.

"So now all we have to do is wait for boys to come home from a meeting." Kat said and clicked the camera off.

|||

"Honey we're home!" you heard Sam screaming and then the door being shut.

You and Katrina exchanged looks and she quickly ran to your room to turn on hidden there camera while you turned on the one that was in living room.

"Hi boys" you smiled at them when they entered the room and you went to Colby to kiss him while Sam went to his and Katrina room after a quick hello.

Colby hugged you and peppered your face with kisses and then said "Are you hungry? We got lunch from this small Italian restaurant."

"No, I already ate, but thanks babe" you kissed his cheek and sat on the couch again.

"Okay, I will go change."

You stood up and went after him while smiling discreetly to the hidden camera.

In your shared room Colby immediately went to the closet while you sat on your bed waiting for him to be done.

You also adjusted your(Colby's) shirt so your collarbone and neck were more showing.

You scrolled through your phone when Colby finally sat next to you in new clothes and in silence he looked at your neck.

You bite back your smile knowing he noticed hickeys.

Before you knew his hand was on your neck trying to smear the hickey.

"What's that?" he asked quietly with narrowed brows.

"Hickeys." you smiled at him putting your phone on the bedside table "You made them, don't you remember?"

"I'm pretty sure I would remember marking you like that." his voice was low and you knew he definitely wasn't happy. "Who did that? Is this some kind of prank?"

"What? No, Colby. I can't believe you don't remember making them." you faked scoff.

"Y/n..." he sighed "Who did that?"

You were close to laughing at his face but thankfully you stopped yourself.

Then when you looked at him again you felt bad because you noticed the hurt and insecurity on his face.

"Oh I'm sorry, Colby" you took his hand and squeezed when he wanted to take it back "It's a prank, I'm so sorry baby. I didn't want to make you upset. Katrina made those hickeys."

Colby just silently looked at you trying to analyze your words and you just stoop up and took the camera out of its hiding spot.

"Sorry guys, it's kinda fail but I feel too bad to continue this prank." you pouted explaining it to your viewers. "Look at this pouty, I couldn't do this to him." you pointed at the camera at Colby and he just shook his head with a small relieved smile.

"Does Sam know his girlfriend made hickeys on you?" Colby asked and you laughed.

"Nope, if Kat won't tell him herself, he will get to know when the video is out!"

You said your goodbyes to the camera and stopped recording. Then you put the camera on a desk and you went to Colby and straddled his waist while he laid on his back on the bed.

"I'm so sorry" you said again hugging him.

"It's okay, I'm so happy it's just prank but I'm not sure if I shouldn't be jealous because I don't remember the last time I left any marks on you." he moved his brows suggestively and you laughed.

"Maybe we should change it then."

#colby brock x reader #colby brock #sam and colby #snc #katrina stuart #prank #sam golbach

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spidybaby · 9 months

Note

Wenassss.... Can I request something? Maybe just having a nice evening with his parents and brother while Pedri is being soft with you in front of them and they just love you and your guys relationship? Pleaseeee

It's okay if you don't want to do it, I'm just in need of fluffly Pedri, I'm having some mean cramps and I cant think of anything else but this🥴 also take your time, ten un buen dia/tarde/noche.

Baecation

Summary: Your boyfriend family loves the way your relationship is, always taking care of each other.

Warnings: none ❤️

A/N: Ay mami, I was supposed to post this a few days (weeks) ago, but I hope you're good and don't have cramps anymore. Btw sorry, I was MIA but now I'm not 💋 also special thanks yo my girl @gaviandgrizisgirl luv u 💛

"If you can be an animal for a day, what animal would you be?" You ask Pedro, you're drinking a piña colada while Pedro is drinking a strawberry drink. "I would be a shrimp."

"A shrimp?" Pedro laughs, he thought you would answer with a dolphin, an elephant, or even with a butterfly. Not a shrimp.

You nod, laughing at his confused expression.

You both are in Tenerife enjoying vacation. Well, you're enjoying vacation, Pedri is recovering and training for the pre season and the US Tour.

"Yes, my friend," you say, sticking your tongue out. He kisses your temple, thinking that maybe that piña colada is hitting. "So, you would be what?"

"I, my friend," he says, making fun of the way you call him friend. "Would be a."

"A donkey." Fer scream from the pool. Adrian and Paula laughed, and Pedri gave him the finger. "It was funny, admit it."

"You'll be the most cute donkey." You grab his hand, kissing it multiple times. "Fer would be a cookroach. Those are ugly just like him."

They all erupt in laughs. That piña colada was definitely hitting. "Oh, preciosa, you're the best." He pulls you to him, hugging you and kissing your temple.

"That was mean." Fer says. He loves making Pedro mad, even tho he wasn't the easiest to make mad. Pedro has this soft spot for him.

"It kind of was." Adrian joins the conversation, "but you were a bitch, Fercito." He hit Fer in the head and goes back to Paula, his girlfriend.

"I was mean," you admit. "I'm sorry, Fer. I think you would be a killer whale." You say. He thinks about it for a while and smiles happy about it.

"And you, golden boy." You bop his nose with every word. "You would be a panther." You joke knowing that since he saw Black Panther II, he mentioned he wanted a panther.

He shakes his head, laughing at how you can remember everything. "Would you be a panther with me, or would you be the shrimp on my plate?" He asks, lips on your neck.

"Noup, still a shrimp." You say, making him laugh even harder.

Fer looks at you, smiling. He's happy for his brother because he found somebody who loves him and cares for him. He knows your relationship is a healthy one.

"Pedro, those drinks are allowed for you?" Fer asks, since he's the chef for his brother, he knows the diet and restrictions Pedro has.

"I'm going to get one more drink, and I'm done." Pedro says, even tho he wasn't drinking alcohol like the rest, he was drinking more sugar than what he was supposed to.

"Let me go get you that." You say, stopping him from getting up. He kisses your cheek, thanking you for doing that.

You walk inside the house, finding Rosy and Fernando talking and helping each other with the making of dinner for everyone.

"Hi, do you guys need any help over here?" You place the empty cup, grabbing the strawberry mix and pouring more for your boyfriend.

"No, mija, you can go back. We're fine here." Fernando says, cutting some vegetables.

"Are you sure?" You ask again. "Let me take this to Pedro and I'll be back to help you."

Even they tell you that it's okay, you know they need some help. You grab the cup back and walk outside.

"Gracias, preciosa." He says, grabbing the cup. "Come sit, I want to show you something."

You shake your head no. "I'm going to help your parents in the kitchen, show me later?" Your hand in his hair, caressing his brown locks.

He nods, and you go back inside. Rosy and Fernando are talking about a new thing for the tasca. "I'm back, let me help you with the dip."

You chat with them for a while, they ask you about your classes and about your family. "Tell your mother I want that cake recipe."

When you met the González López you brought a cookie dough cheesecake. Rosy fell in love with it, well they all did.

"I can make it. We can get the things tomorrow and prepare it." You suggest, cooking with him was one of your favorite things. She taught you so much, and you were happy to bond with her with that. "Pedro might hate us for preparing it while he's on a diet."

In that moment, Pedro joined the three of you. "And what exactly are you making?" He asks, curious.

"No seas chismoso." Fernando laughs, patting his son back. "Venga, entra ya que iré a llamar a los demás." (Don't be noisy, get inside, I'm calling the rest.)

He walks over you, you're finishing a dressing for his salad, he grabs your waist, positioning himself behind you, kissing your shoulder. "What is that?"

You explain all the dishes you helped Rosy prepare, and explain to him about the salad and dressing you saw on tik tok. It was good because it didn't break any of his diet rules.

Rosy paid attention to the too of you, loving how you cared so much about him to the point of remembering what can and can't he eat.

"And this chicken is made specially for you, it's less greassy for your salad." You finish explaining. Pedro, thank you and help setting the table.

Fer, Adrian and Paula walk inside, laughing at some joke Fernando told them. They went to change since they couldn't sit with wet clothes at the table.

In the end, Adrian and Paula ended up leaving. They were invited to dinner by Paula's family.

"I can't believe it." Fer says, acting hurt. "You're trying to take away my position as mom's helper."

You all laugh at how he says it. "Well, she's a really good helper and doesn't change the recipe." Rosy defends you.

"Plus," Fernando adds. "She's doesn't complain about chopping the vegetables."

"Es que ella es simplemente especial." Pedro, kiss your cheek. Making you blush. "Nadie como ella." (She's just simply special. Nobody like her.)

To you, it was still new the whole affection in front of his family, but to him, it wasn't. His parents were like that. Even his brother and his girlfriend were like that. You weren't as used to due to your family not being this affectionate with one another.

To them, you shouldn't be ashamed. They know how much Pedro loves you, always saying how special you're and how he's so in love.

Rosy and Fernando love the way you're with him, and obviously are proud that they raised a gentleman.

"I have to take care of you." You say as you pinch his cheek. "Now eat you salad."

"It's so unfair you guys have amazing meals, and I have pure salad and chicken." He says, even tho he's very disciplined with this diet and exercise, he's getting tired of seeing you all enjoying these amazing meals.

He told you that before, how sometimes he just wants to get a burger and some French fries, but he's focused on his goals to give up like that.

"Here, let's share some salad so you won't eat alone." You push the food Rosy prepared and grab a new plate to serve yourself salad and chicken just like him. "You see? Yummy."

The look Fernando and Rosy share is a surprise one, because not even them as his parents thought about doing that, not in a bad way, they always supported him in every way, but food is food.

"You must love this idiot a lot because I know you didn't just reject this whole delicious meal for that salad." Fer jokes. Making you laugh.

"We're a team, right preciosa?" Pedro ask you. Elevating his hand for you to high-five him.

"We are." You high-five him. Making his parents stare at you like aw. "Your mom and I are making a cookie dough cheesecake." You say to him.

The expression he has is a funny one. He can remember the taste and hate that he will not be able to eat it. "So unfair."

"I want to know." Fernando asks, looking at Fer and then at Pedro. "Which one of you is going to do the dishes?"

"Not me, I did them last night." Pedro says, lifting his hands. "It's his turn."

"I hate you. At the end you'll help me." Fer says, throwing a piece of bread at him. After that, the talk turned out about what's next for Pedro, the tour, the season.

You were about to help Fer with the table, but Rosy stopped you, telling you that you already helped enough in the kitchen.

She dismissed you, telling her son to take you away from the kitchen. "Vamos, tengo que mostrarte algo." He says, walking you both back to his room. (C'mon, I got to show you something)

You sit criss-cross on his bed. He did the same and pulled out his phone, "Look." He hands you some texts between Xavi and him about how you can go with him to the US Tour.

"No way." You say hugging him. "Pedro, no way."

The smile he has while looking at you all excited for going to the tour with his is one that can light up the whole sky.

"Es que eres increíble, gracias." You hug him again, laying on his lap and kissing his whole face. (You're so amazing, thank you)

"Everything for you." He says, kissing you back.

He knows you're not that used to public affection. Specifically around family, he remembers that one time you push him away because your little cousin walked into the kitchen.

The kissing session became more heated than expected. He was now on top of you, an unbuttoned shirt, and the straps from your blouse being down your shoulders are just the beginning.

His hands travel around your body, grabbing everywhere he can. "Eres hermosa." He humms before attacking your neck with his lips.

You try your best to silence the moans, not wanting his family to find out what you're doing. But the way he was touching and kissing you made it almost impossible.

Your nails scratch lightly on his shoulders, his shirt is on the floor now. It's now your turn to tease him. Kissing that soft spot that makes him crazy. "You have to be quiet, mi amor." You say.

His lips on you to silence the two of you. While your hands go to unbutton his shorts, his hands are pulling your shirt out of your head.

But three knocks on the door make the two of you jump scared. "Si?" Pedro is the one who talks.

"Mom and I want to show you guys something." His father says, "meet us downstairs."

Your heart is beating so fast that you feel like passing out. "We're so not doing this again." You say, walking to the bathroom to fix your clothes. "You need to fix yourself, Pedro." He buff, angry at the interruption.

Once you both calm down, you make your way to the living room where his parents are. "Did you call us?"

"Vengan, tengo unas fotos para mostrar." Rosy says, making room for you on the couch. "This is an old pic from our vacation." (Come here, I have some pictures to show)

You look at the pictures, finding them adorable. Both Pedro and Fer were so little and so adorable. "Back to the time when you used to listen to your parents." You joke looking at Fer.

Fernando laughs and gives you the reason. "Es que ere joyita, hijo. Hasta ella lo sabe." (You're something else, son. Even she knows it)

You love it when they share their memories with you. It makes the moments you spend with them so special.

"When we get time, we have to go print the pictures we took these days." Fernando says to Pedro. "We have to add them to the album."

"You'll have your first appearance in the album." Rosy tells you. "Don't repeat this, but Celine cried when she got into the album."

She whispers this so Fer couldn't hear it. Celine was Fer's girlfriend. She was so special and so lovely with all of them, even with you.

You're thankful for all the love they give you, always making you feel like one of them. "I'm so excited for my first picture on this album."

"Nothing to thank us, niña. We are the ones who had to thank you. For being always so special with our boy." Fernando says as he messed Pedro's hair.

"That's true. Thank you for loving our son so much." Rosy hugs you. "We know he can be a whole lot sometimes."

"Hey, don't give me a bad reputation." Pedro laughs. You grab his hand. Happy that you find your way with someone like him.

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coveredinsweetpea · 8 months

Text

A/n: this is super random but I'm cleaning out my drafts folder and I figured since I don't even remember what was supposed to happen next, I might as well post it. Maybe it inspires someone to write a second part? 🥴🥴 Summary: Nancy gives you and Eddie a nasty dare, and as if doing that in front of everybody at the party wasn't bad enough, Jason decides to be a complete asshole. Good thing Eddie won't allow that 1.3k Warnings: this isn't smut but it does mimic or at least mention aspects such as oral (m receiving), humiliation, and degradation. also one watersports comment. pls 18+

The room went absolutely silent as soon as the dare reached everyone's ears. It was still early, no one was drunk yet, some weren't even tipsy, yet the words rolled off Nancy's lips as if she had something to win off of your humiliation.

"You know, right? That if you don't want to do it, you don't have to?" Steve jumped to clarify as the shock on your face refused to wear off.

You blinked and swallowed and then your eyebrows flew up for half a second as you shook your head. "It's really not that big of a deal" you smiled and turned to look at Eddie. "Right?"

"Right" he nodded, his grin only widening as he looked you up and down.

While the rest of your friends kept on staring, Nancy and Jonathan, on the little armchair that they shared, furiously whispered between themselves.

"Well" you took a deep breath and slapped Eddie's knee. "What are we waiting for?"

"I'll.. go grab the beer then" he said.

As he got up and rounded the couch on his way to the minifridge in the corner of the basement, you stood up too, and fixed your skirt as you waited for him to return.

The expressions of shock on your friends' faces turned into pure excitement as Eddie grabbed your hand and led you to the nearest wall.

"Get on your knees, sweetheart" he commanded and against the violent pit on your stomach, you did just that.

"Think she can swallow it all?" one of the girls laughed, making the others cheer like a pack of football jocks who celebrated a victory that was already theirs.

But they didn't get to you, at least not visibly. Your heart was beating rapidly all the way up in your throat and your shaky palms, wet and cold, gripped Eddie's jeans as you looked up at him.

"You good, sweetheart?" he mouthed softly.

His hand, warm and dry, cupped your cheek and he rubbed his thumb across your bottom lip as you nodded.

"You sure?"

You nodded again.

"Ok, then" Eddie smiled. He moved the beer from his left hand to the right, and propped the top of the bottle against his handcuffs shaped belt buckle. Getting a better grip on the neck of the bottle, Eddie twisted it against the metal, having the top fly off with a quick and satisfying click.

Seeing the surprise on your face, Eddie shrugged proudly. "You didn't really think I bought this belt just because it looked cool, did you?"

"That was my mistake" you confessed with a giggle before your attention was grabbed by Jason and two of his friends as they walked over and squatted down by your side, all but bursting with enthusiasm.

"What?" one of them raised their hands in defense and looked back and forth between you and Eddie. "We wanted a better view"

Eddie grabbed your chin so you'd face him and sent you a knowing look. It didn't take a genius to know just how uncomfortable the situation could've been for you, and he wanted to make sure you were alright.

"It's ok" you said and looked at them, "If you guys aren't getting any action, you might as well watch others"

"Ha-ha very funny" one of them snapped, but against their frustrated reaction, the others laughed out loud. Eddie did too.

"Come on, you two!" Nancy giggled, "Stop wasting time, others want to play too"

"Fine, fine" you sighed and looked back up at Eddie, "Come on"

He waited for you to get into position, on your knees with your ass against the wall and your back arched as you looked up at him. He didn't have to tell you to do it - you opened your mouth on your own, and leaned into his hold when he grabbed your chin to keep you in place.

"Bottoms up" Eddie cheered and brought the bottle up to your lips.

The picture was perfect and it had everyone holering in no time. You knew what it all looked like and for some weird and unknown reason, it didn't bother you one bit. The bottom of the bottle was pressed against Eddie’s crotch as beer flowed out of it and into your open and eager mouth.

It was coming down too fast and too much at once, and despite swallowing as much as you could, beer still escaped down your chin, over Eddie's hand and onto your knees and the carpet. But he wasn't slowing down, wasn't tilting the bottle so that less flowed out, he just let you struggle and, judging by the look on his face, enjoyed every second of it.

By the time the bottle was half empty, you were already finding it hard to keep going. Your hands closed in on their hold against Eddie’s thighs, your nails sinking into his jeans and then into his flesh, as you looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed in a silent plea for him to slow down.

But he knew better than to do that. So instead of letting you take a break, he tightened his hold against your jaw and pushed you back, tilting your head even further. The bottle at this point was almost completely upside down, the beer overflowing your mouth.

Panic set in, until you realized it was all in your favor. The alcohol was coming down so fast that it was physically impossible to keep up, making almost all of it spill onto the floor.

No one really cared about that detail, they were all in awe of what you just did, screaming and howling all kinds of dumb and immature phrases of praise as soon as you were done.

Once the last drop of beer rolled onto the floor, Eddie threw the bottle aside and grabbed both your hands to help you up.

"Quite impressive, Y/n" Jason chuckled with a disgusting tone in his voice as Eddie wipped the dust off your knees. "I must say, it does look like you know what you are doing. Got experience, beautiful? I doubt this was you first time drinking straight from the-"

You barely got a chance to register his words before Eddie turned around and lounged at Jason. Thankfully, he didn't go for a hit, didn't want to ruin the night by sending someone to the hospital, but instead, slammed him hard against the wall, and pulled out his famous pocket knife.

Steve and Jonathan jumped up instantly too, stopping Jason's friends from interfering as you rushed over to Eddie.

"Jesus, Eddie, it's ok! Let him go!"

But he didn't listen, and continued to face Jason. "If the next words that come of your mouth aren't an honest fucking apology, I'll slam your face into the toilet and shove this knife up your ass"

"Eddie!!"

Jason, probably in need of a new pair of underwear, shook his head and struggled to keep the tears from rolling down his face as he muttered out his words. "Listen, man. I'm sorry, I-"

"Not to me, you idiot!" Eddie scoffed and slammed Jason into the wall again. "You're gonna apologize to Y/n."

After choking back a sob, he looked in your direction. "Y/n, I'm sorry, I- I didn't mean, it was stupid, ok? I thought it would be funny, I didn't think- I'm sorry, ok? I really am, I won't- I won't say shit like that again, ok? Can you- can you like... forgive me? Please?"

"Yes.." you said softly and got ready to peel Eddie off of him. "It's ok, thanks for apologizing"

Reluctantly, Eddie let him go and wrapped an arm around you as Jason and his two friends furiously gathered their stuff and rushed out of the basement.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about all of this" you mumbled as soon as you realized the room was left completely silent.

"No one liked them anyway" Steve laughed and the others all agreed. Somehow, the mood wasn't ruined, and before you even got a chance to sit down, other dares were already being thrown around.

"Hey, you OK?" Eddie asked, softly enough only so that you'd hear.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. You didn't have to scar him for life, but thanks"

"I'll admit, I may have crossed the line a bit, but this way, at least we know he won't get any ideas to say shit like that to you again"

"Thanks" you said and shook your head, giggling softly, "I was gonna hug you but my shirt is all wet"

"Here" Eddie said.

He took his leather jacket off, along with his vest, and then pulled his shirt over his head before you even managed to get a word in. "Go get changed and put this on" he said handing you the Hellfire shirt, "It's my fault yours is all soaked"

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie x reader #eddie muson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine

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iloafeu · 4 months

Text

💬 05 MAYBE I AM THE PROBLEM

your eyes slowly fluttered open when the sound of your ringtone starts blaring through your room. groaning a bit, you grab your phone off the charger and answer the call without even checking who it is.

"hello?.." your voice was raspy and low from just waking up, but you don't even think you're even fully awake right now.

"hi y/n- wait, did you just wake up? do you know what time it is?" lumines worried voice wavers through your phones speaker, you quickly take notice of the background noise that indicates that she's currently driving.

"uhuh.. It's like, eleven." you answer

"no, silly, it's 3:30pm" you hear a soft chuckle come through your phone.

a quick 'oh' dumbly leaves your mouth before you go quiet for a moment, you don't even remember what time you went to bed last night.

"... did you stay up looking at those posts?"

to say no would mean you were lying to her. you just couldn't help it, the amount of hate you got in the past not even 24 hours was just to hard not to look at. maybe you should of stayed ignorant because all you remember is going to bed with 20 new insecurities.

lumine takes your deafening silence as a yes and sighs "n/n, please try to stay away from your socials- actually, stay away from your phone for the next few days. its the best you can do for your mental health."

"but how am I gonna finish hunter x hunter...?" you jokingly whine

"you have a computer and a tv, you're more than able to finish your show." lumine corrects you.

"I guess..."

you can't see it but she rolls her eyes at your childish whining before replying "I'm on my way back to campus, I went to the store and I have some of your favorites with me right now. I'll be over in like 20 minutes and we can watch hunter x hunter together, okay?" she comforts, she was always good at doing that.

"lumine can we honestly edate-"

"no."

"aw."

after finishing your conversation with lumine and the call ends, you immediately notice the hundreds of notifications overflowing on your lockscreen.

it wouldn't hurt to take one last peek right?

synopsis ★ you and your friends start a stream where they have to dare you anything to their desire due to you losing a bet. It was going fine for the most of it, some of them just being silly and petty but one strikes a dare that started everything.

TAGLIST (I'd prefer it if you asked through inbox/asks! bolded if not able to tag) @sketcheeee @samyayaya @featuredtofu @sukunasrealgf @venusflwers @eunchaeluvr @theblueblub @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 @yukiipc @yuumaofc @onmywaytoteyvat @enviouspeanut @angel-antidote @rifran @reinoodle @aeongiies @crystal-wayyy @yuminako @thenightsflower @meigalaxy @scaramoo @phoenix-eclipses @etherisy @justawalkingdisaster @yukii-1 @zephestia @vcvoxu @atlaincorrect @ainnofinway @dazaisboner @angeilix @itssagelinnea @ruhaxol @b2tr09 @to-mi-yo @auroratumbles

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goldengleams · 4 months

Text

cut my hair - l. hughes

In which you and Luke come back to each other after you cut your hair.

Warnings: alcohol, underage drinking, angst, college melodrama Word Count: 4.5k words (let's go!!!)

A/N: Super excited for this one! This is inspired by “cut my hair” by Tate McRae and I would encourage you to listen to it while you read! Hope you enjoy and leave me some requests while you’re at it :))

Just wanna cut my hair, lose myself, make you sweat

Go out and get messed up, find myself in your bed

Just wanna cut my hair, little black dress, can't forget

Just wanna show you whatever she do, I can do it better

"Yo, Moosey, is that Y/N?"

Luke couldn't help but follow your figure from across the bar. He could always find you in a crowd, no matter the amount of people or the size of the room. His hand dropped from the shoulder of the girl standing next to him, his date for the night.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I think so," Luke said to his teammate Mark standing next to him. He suddenly felt hot, pulling on the collar of his shirt to allow himself to breathe a little easier.

"She looks good, man." Mark wasn't wrong, you did look good. Your head was thrown back as you laughed at something your friend said, looking happier than he had seen you since you fought before winter break.

Luke wanted to slap Mark but he knew it would do no good and he would be lying if he said he didn't agree with his comment. It had only been a few weeks since you had stopped talking, but he felt like it had been years.

You looked different, but it was a good different, he thought. Your hair was short now, right at your shoulders, highlighting your collarbone and your chest in the strapless black dress you wore. You were surrounded by a group of your friends. He recognized them as the ones who had picked you up from the house he shared with his teammates that fated night. He remembered how hard you had cried, unable to look at him after you fought about him leaving for New Jersey and the trust issues that clouded your vision. Luke remembered how he was unable to answer when you asked when the last time you had gone out on a date was. He wished he could've shown you how much he cared but he was too afraid to admit that he didn't want to lose you. He couldn't admit that he was just as afraid as you were. And then, before he knew it, you were storming out and you were on a break.

Luke regretted that moment. He couldn't tell you, because he was too nervous to text first, but he wanted to apologize. If he could have stopped himself from ever pushing you away, he would've never ended up standing with someone he didn't know.

Luke and a few of his teammates had been invited to a sorority formal, which is how he ended up in the back of a more formal bar far away from campus with a date he barely knew. Rutger's girlfriend had begged a few of the guys to go with some of her sorority sisters and Luke and Mark agreed, but he wanted nothing more than to be by your side.

"Dude, you're staring" Mark commented. "Maybe you should go talk to her."

"I don't know if she'd even give me the time of day," Luke said. “I fucked up.”

"You'll never know unless you try, Lukey. Besides, you probably just caught her on a bad day. What did you say to her anyways?

"I told her that she was overbearing and that I was going to leave soon anyways,” Luke said, close to Mark’s ear so his date couldn’t hear him.

“Oh,” Mark stammered. “Yeah, that’s bad, Luke.”

“Thanks,” Luke chuckled humorlessly.

“She’ll hear you out, dude. Just tell her how you really feel. Trust me, girls love honesty!" Mark said, already moving away from Luke to follow his date to the dance floor.

Luke sighed, rolling his eyes at Mark's immaturity. He knew he was so focused on his future that he had lost sight of the present-his college teammates, his classes. Most importantly, he had lost you. Maybe this was his chance to get you back.

I've been playing nice little too long, yeah

Drivin' on the high road hit a dead end,

I'd tell you but we just don't talk,

I've been having selfish thoughts

Your friends were so excited to go out and celebrate the first week of second semester. You could tell some of your girlfriends were crushing hard for some of the guys in the bar, but your mind was elsewhere after spotting a certain someone across the room.

For almost all of break, besides the holidays, you had been trying to figure out how to move on from Luke Hughes. You and Luke had clicked immediately, and even though you had tried to take the relationship slow, it was no use. Within two months, you were dating. Luke was proud to see you cheering for him at games and you became a staple at Thursday movie nights at his shared hockey house. You and Luke fit together like pieces of a puzzle.

Which is exactly why you couldn’t figure out why your boyfriend had started sending short messages and declined your affection starting after Thanksgiving break. Luke constantly claimed he had hockey practice or a team bonding event, but it was all proven to be false when you showed up at his doorstep one night to confront him.

Rumors found Luke Hughes like a moths to a flame. Whether it was his future in the NHL or his relationship status, your Michigan social media gossip pages never missed a beat. That week in the fall, Luke was apparently single and talking to a girl from the sorority the hockey team regularly hung out with. You never thought you were the jealous type, but with Luke’s odd behavior and his lack of communication, you thought the worst.

Even now, as you stood in the bar, you got a chill as you thought about the night you confronted him. Luke had the nerve to sit on his bed as you paced in his room, asking him simple questions that he had trouble answering.

He knew that you cared so much about your relationships with others so he used it against you, saying you were bombarding him with messages and he was sick of it. You couldn’t remember every sentence you spoke, but you could remember the hurt you felt when you realized that Luke just didn’t care about you like you cared for him. He had said it himself, he wouldn’t be around much longer, implying that you should both just move on. You didn’t wait for him to deal the final blow, instead, you called for the breakup and left before he could say anything else.

“Earth to Y/N! You want a drink?” Your friend, Caroline, asked. She waved her hand in front of your face to get your attention.

“Uh, I’m good. I didn't expect him to be here and I'm a little overwhelmed,” you replied. You hadn’t locked eyes with Luke, but you were afraid the moment was coming sooner than later since you struggled to tear your gaze from his tall figure.

“How about a shot then? They’ve got those green ones that are really good, and will make you forget that tall idiot who has been staring at you all night,” Caroline tried again.

I've been working hard while you're six drinks in,

Tossin' in the dark, feel you under my skin,

Once I start I just can't stop,

I've been having selfish thoughts

You were about to decline her offer when you saw who Luke was standing next to. You recognized Rutger and Mark easily, but you had only just got a clear view of Riley Jones, a sorority girl standing next to him. You had forgotten that there was a sorority formal the first week back from break, and of course, you had ended up at the same bar.

“No fucking way.” You muttered under your breath, but Caroline was too attentive.

“What?”

“He’s with Riley. He’s at the stupid sorority formal with that girl who’s in our biology class, C.”

Caroline gasped, always perfectly dramatic in every situation. “It's always the sorority girls, I swear!"

You nodded, finally able to turn your head away from Luke’s direction. Sighing, you pulled out your phone to check the time, only 10:23. You had made a deal with your friends that you couldn’t leave until 11, but that deal seemed much easier when your ex wasn’t factored into the equation.

“He shouldn’t even be here, it’s the middle of the season and he can’t drink, anyways,” you grumbled to your group of friends. They were hoping to have a Luke-free night, especially with the start of the new semester, but you all had forgotten the sorority that would be gracing the bar with their presence that Thursday night. Caroline rubbed your arm, assuring you that you weren’t alone in this situation.

“Well, he's definitely an idiot for losing you, but he doesn't seem too interested in his date," Caroline said. "Don't focus on him, the night is still young! And, not that you needed it, but you seriously just had the glow-up of winter break. Luke's missing out.”

"New year, no more being sad over stupid boys!" You lifted up your nearly empty drink to clink it with your other friends' glasses.

Your other friends chimed in and you laughed, Caroline wasn’t wrong. Despite crying over Luke for a few days, you refused to lay in bed and rot just because he had made you feel small. Instead, you opted to take out your anger at the gym over break, so you knew your dress that night fit you better than ever before. You had also decided to do a hair transformation and cut it quite short, a style your friends at college hadn’t ever seen on you. You knew you looked different and you felt confident.

“Why don’t I get us the shots before we hit the dance floor? On me!” You could feel your layer of liquid courage settle over you. Luke was closer to the bar than you were, so it was almost inevitable that he would see you if you got the drinks.

"You know he's over there, right Y/N? Don't look now, but he's staring at you." Your other friend, Lexi, said to you. Of course you knew. Luke was one of the tallest guys in the bar and he easily towered over the other guys that were hovering close to your friend group. Just as you went to look at him, he redirected his gaze to Riley and laughed at something she said. The nerve of him. You rolled your eyes and stood up a little. If he wanted to play hardball, so could you.

"Yeah, I wanna give him a taste of what he's missing."

“Okay, get it girl!"

You sauntered over to the bar, leaning over just enough so that your chest was on display in the new black strapless dress you had bought. It hugged you just right and showed off your assets quite well. The music was pulsing and the lights were pretty dark, so it was a shock when you felt a hand on your back.

There's no right way to say it,

Want you so bad, I hate it

Good girls, so overrated

So overrated...

Luke watched as you pulled out your phone to check the time. Even from across the room, he could see your bright lockscreen light up your face. The glow illuminated your bright smile and your dimples, and suddenly he wished he was right next to you to see it.

"Hey Luke, want to dance?" Riley's voice caught his attention. She was standing right in front of him, staring up at him with her big brown eyes rather excitedly. He hesitated, unsure of what to say, but Riley just kept on going.

"Mark said you liked to dance, so I thought..." Riley continued to ramble but Luke had already tuned her out. He didn't really care that he was caught in Riley's scheme for the night, he just didn't want it to look like he was actually with her.

"Mark's an idiot," he chuckled. "I don't dance."

Riley rolled her eyes, unimpressed at her date who was standing up against the wall. "Can you at least just put your arm around me again? My ex is like, right across the bar and I need to make him at least a little jealous."

Luke didn't mean to ignore Riley's plea, but he had lost you in the crowd. You weren't standing next to your friends anymore. He felt his heart rate pick up at the thought of losing you again. He scanned the room and finally found you leaning over the bar. If he could get Riley to move over a few steps, he could maneuver his way to the bar counter and maybe-

"Are you looking at Y/N?" Riley asked. It wasn't exactly a secret that you and Luke had broken up. All pictures of him had been removed from your social media and Luke hadn't been playing his best hockey by any means. Luke's trance seemed to end abruptly as he cleared his throat to try to come up with an answer, but it was no use. In the time he had been pondering his plan, some guy had sidled up next to you. Luke recognized him, his name was Chris, he was in your major and lived down the hall from you. He always said hi to the two of you when you passed him on the way to your room and Luke couldn't lie, he was pretty fit, too. He let out a shaky breath.

"Uh, no," Luke fumbled. "I was just thinking about getting another soda up at the bar."

"Luke, I know you've been staring at Y/N over there all night even though I'm your date," Riley hummed, seeming only slightly disappointed. "You should go talk to her. Girls are a little scary, but we just want to be loved. Look, I'm gonna go chat with my ex across the bar and show him a fun time, okay? You got this."

Riley walked away from Luke, leaving him standing there a little dumbfounded. Was it really that easy? Chris seemed to make it look easy, standing too close to you at the bar countertop, making you laugh as you waited for whatever you had ordered.

Luke found himself moving closer to the bar without really having a concrete plan in place. Would you ignore him? His runaway thoughts ended when he heard his name called.

Just wanna cut my hair, lose myself, make you sweat

Go out and get messed up, find myself in your bed

Just wanna cut my hair, little black dress, can't forget

Just wanna show you whatever she do, I can do it better

"Luke! Hey man!" Chris called. In his drunken state, he had practically whipped around and made you fall when he caught sight of Luke. When you realized who Chris was calling for, you immediately shook his hand away and turned back to the bartender who was almost about to get to you to take your drink order.

"Chris, don't," you tried to say as quietly as possible. Luke was getting closer to you to try to say hello but you wanted none of it. You ignored Chris and Luke greeting each other and kept your eyes trained in front of you. You refused to give in.

"I gotta get back to the guys, I'll see you later, Y/N? We can watch that new episode once you get back!" Chris called, giving you a side hug as you said goodbye.

"Hey, Y/N," Luke said. His voice sounded soft and timid and you couldn't help but feel your stomach fill with butterflies. This was the closest you and Luke had been since before Christmas and now it was the middle of January.

"You look beautiful, I love your hair," he tried again, finally standing next to you. You hated how tall he was in the moment, his frame completely isolating you from anyone else, since you were at the end of the bar.

"Thanks," you said. "New year, new haircut is how the saying goes, I think."

Luke laughed nervously, sitting down on the barstool next to you. He had let his hair grow out over break, you noticed. He was turned towards you, trying to get you to talk to him. You felt your face get hot at the thought of him being right there. He was so close, yet the last time you saw him, he pushed you so far away.

"I didn't know you were here," he tried, wanting you to look at him. You couldn't help the scoff that escaped your mouth.

"Sure you weren't staring at me all night? Caroline said she caught you ignoring your date, Hughes."

You held back laughter at the way his eyes widened. Caught. The bartender finally turned your way and you ordered shots for you and your friends, handing him your fake ID and flashing a smile as he handed it back to you quickly. Luke asked for a soda and he went to prepare your orders.

"I didn't know you were seeing Chris."

"I'm not, he just has manners and actually enjoys being in my presence, Luke."

Luke coughed, trying to break up the awkward tension between you two. His mind went back to your first date, where he had taken you ice skating. He remembered how hard you laughed when you fell, needing him to lift you up and hold your hand tightly to stay upright. Even thought you barely knew each other outside of a mutual friend, the conversation flowed easily. You two had never been awkward around each other, even in the early stages of your relationship.

"So," Luke began.

You rolled your eyes and put your hands on your hips, turning square to him. His gaze dipped to your neckline where your chest was accentuated and you almost laughed. While you hadn't dressed for him that night, it was like fate brought him to you just so you could make him weak. Perfect.

"So?"

Couple years back so sensitive, yeah

Movin' like that gets repetitive, yeah

Singin' bout the same old stupid ass things

Sad girl bit got a little boring

"I haven't heard from you in a while, Y/N."

"Well, you weren't interested in texting me anyways so I thought it would be easiest," you taunted him. “Remember when you told me I was too much to deal with?”

"I wanted to apologize for that," Luke sighed. "I wasn't thinking straight and I took it out on you, I'm sorry."

"Glad it only took you two months to realize you were an asshole and lost the best thing you ever had."

Luke was stunned at your bluntness. You stared right at him when you said it, your confidence unwavering. Fake it until you make it right? Your heart was beating fast. You didn't really drink often, but when you did, Luke knew how unfiltered you could be. He always found it amusing, the way your cheeks would flush and how sassy you became. It never failed to make him feel hot all over.

"God, where is that fucking bartender?" You mumbled, quickly looking past Luke to avoid another awkward sentence spilling out of your mouth. You were already two drinks in and wanted to keep feeling good.

"You're right," Luke said, still staring at you. "I know you wouldn't say that if you were totally sober, but I agree. I fucked up and ruined us.”

You could barely focus as the bartender asked you for your card and you fumbled to get it out of your phone wallet. Luke quickly got his card out and handed it to the man instead.

"Luke, don't. You're not even supposed to be in here mid-season," you chided. "And you don't have to pay for me, we're not together."

“Would you ever want us to be together again?” Luke asked quickly.

Luke’s question made you freeze.

“I’m not doing this here, Luke.”

“Just answer the question, Y/N.”

“I never wanted us to be over, Luke. But you made me feel stupid for wanting all of the things you gave me at the very beginning. I wasn’t going to stick around just to get my heart broken.”

You felt lighter now that the truth was out in the open. You’re sure Luke knew it too, by the guilty look he wore on his face. Everyone told you how good you and Luke were good together, but it was the two of you that still couldn’t figure things out.

“What if we get out of here? We can talk about how terrible I was back at my place,” Luke asked. He looked hopeful, almost too content. Three months ago, you would’ve jumped to do anything Luke suggested, but now, with him taking another girl out and his actions, you swiftly shook your head.

“Can’t, the girls and I are staying out for the night. But I hope you have fun with Riley, enjoy your night, Hughes.”

The shots and his soda were set down in front of you, breaking up the moment.

“I hate when you call me that,” Luke grumbled. You smirked knowingly. You always called Luke by a nickname, never his last name.

“Well, I hate when my ex is at the bar with another girl, but here we are,” you fired back.

"Riley went off with some other guy. Her ex, I think," Luke admitted.

"Sounds like fun," you shrugged. You tried not to get your hopes up at his statement. Luke had hurt you in the past.

"We only went together because Rutger set us up, Y/N. I don't even know her."

"Well you looked pretty smitten with her from across the bar, Luke." You said back, not caring that you blew your nonchalant cover. You tried to pick up the small tray of drinks, but stumbled in your haste to steady yourself.

"She's not my type, I thought you of all people would know that, Y/N. She literally just went to go fuck her ex in the bathroom."

"That doesn't make me feel any better Luke, oh my god," you scoffed, a little disgusted that you knew more information about Riley than you needed to know.

"Y/N, wait," he urged, standing up now to tower over you again. Luke's skin was glowing from the heat in the place and he looked at you breathlessly. "Hear me out, please. I know I fucked up, I know that. But I was scared that you'd leave when I play pro hockey and I didn't want to get left behind."

You took in a breath, unable to say anything. Suddenly, it felt like you and Luke were the only ones in the whole room.

“Give me one more chance, please,” Luke said quietly. “I hate that I hurt you.”

No right way to say it,

Want you, so bad I hate it

Good girls, so overrated

So overrated...

As you held the tray, you quickly glanced over to your table, where your friends were staring at you. You were unsure of what to do. You could keep walking towards your friends, forget Luke, and move on with your life. Or, you could do what the new you would do-make him sweat over the mistakes he made, maybe end up in his bed.

“You sure you won’t get sick of me?” You questioned. For the first time that night, Luke could see how sincere you were, the old you that he had loved and lost. He wouldn’t mess up his chance again.

"I could never get sick of you, Y/N. I hated not being able to call or text you and I missed your hugs and the way you laugh when you watch The Office, because you always have it on and you love how sarcastic it is, and how you-" Luke couldn't finish what he was saying, even though you would've enjoyed hearing it, because you had put the tray back down and stood on your tippy toes to kiss him. Your lips crashed against his and you swore you could feel fireworks going off inside your body.

The drinks on the counter were forgotten as his hand traveled to your back, trying to pull you closer to him. He toppled back on his barstool and you stood between his legs, feeling him press up against you. You let out a breathy laugh as you realized how hard he was in his dress pants.

"Jesus, Luke," you whispered in his ear, dropping your head to his shoulder, only a little embarrassed that you just made out with him and your friends were probably watching.

"Don't laugh," he stuttered out. "It's been a long break." You could see how blown his pupils were, pure bliss all over his face as you stood eye to eye.

"I'm not laughing," you said, but couldn't help giggling. "And yeah, it was a long break without you, but I don’t ever want to fight like that again, Luke. I’m serious.”

"Don't move yet," he begged. Luke's hands found your waist and he held you in place, blocking the hard on he was sporting. You smirked as you ran a hand through his hair, you had never seen him so desperate before.

“I was trying to have a serious moment, Moosey.”

“I know, I just can’t focus, not when you’re in that dress,” Luke mumbled, face buried in your neck. You felt your whole body shiver and you knew you wouldn’t last too long. His breath danced along your neck, making you want more.

"I'm glad you like it," you whispered. "I guess I'll have to wear it more."

"Hope it's easy to take off," Luke trailed off, alluding to your intimate moments that he craved.

"Well, what if we move soon and we call an uber and go somewhere a little quieter than this? Then we can talk." You mused. He looked at you contentedly and nodded quickly.

"And you can drop off the shots as a peace offering to my friends when I grab my coat," you said. Luke looked a little nervous but you assured him your friends wouldn’t make a big deal. You knew you weren't very convincing, but it didn't matter, because Luke was practically jumping up to carry the tray of shots over to the table where your friends were sat. They tried not to stare at the two of you as you walked over, but it was no use. There were grins on all of their faces as you said your goodbyes and grabbed Luke’s hand to pull him out of the bar and into an Uber to start the real fun of the night. And if Luke pressed you up against the outside of bar, made out with you the whole uber ride, and kissed you until you knew nothing but his name, that was a secret you'd never tell.

Don't forget to like, reblog and comment! Let me know what you want to see next!

#nhl hockey #nhl #luke hughes #umich hockey #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes x reader #lukey pookie #luke hughes i love u sir #tate mcrae #tate mcrae supremacy #cut my hair

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signedeclipse · 1 year

Text

Signed with Love - Hashira

What is this? - A valentines gift to my lovely fem!readers! Its valentines/love letters cards from your favourites <3

Series Parts Kamaboko Squad - HERE Upper Moons - HERE

Giyuu

To my dearest, Please be my valentine. I'm sorry for not asking sooner or in person, but I just find it easier asking here. You never know who might be listening. I'd rather not do anything too extravagent, but you can come over whenever you want on the fourteenth and I'll have the day off to do whatever you'd like. Love you. Tomioka

Gyomei

Darling, You know I love you more than anything else in this universe, so won't you be my valentine? I promise to take great care of you, and while I don't like the idea of you wanding alone I would be happy to take you hiking so you can finally enjoy the mountains I grew up in. Dress warm, Yours, Gyomei

Kyojuro

Good evening, sparks! I am so happy knowing that once again I am lucky enough to call you my valentine! I'm sure every man envies that Ive stolen you away, haha! You've been speaking plenty of that theater show, so I got us tickets to go and see it! I do not know much of theater, but I would be delighted to see what it's all about. You've always ignited my passions, From your favourite hashira!

Mitsuri

Hey cutie!! You know this is my favourite holiday in the whole entire world! I am so happy that this is my first year actually haveing a valentine, so I want to go all out! How about we go to a buffet we have never been to before and after we can do some shopping! Maybe some matching pyjamas? How does that sound? Please reply ASAP! I am so excited, Your lover girl <3

Muichiro

Dear [Y/N]-chan, Something important is coming up, and you are special to me. If I'm being honest, I don't remember what its called, so I'll just ask you to be mine. I know you've always wanted to go, so I am going to be taking you to the swordsmith village to enjoy the pools. Just don't freak out if you wake up blindfolded. You can trust me, From... me.

Obanai

Dear Serpentine, I do not typically fancy holidays, but on this special occassion I want to celebrate you, especially since I know I'll have the day off- assuming nothing arises. Perhaps its about time we get you your own snake, I am sure Kuburamaru would appreciate a friend, and then you won't be sad when we are both gone on missions. Figure out which breed you want, and I'll find one. Obanai + Kuburamaru

Sanemi

Yo, babe. Since I actually have a valentine this year, I figured its special enough to do something fancy. I'm going to take you out to Tokyo city for a nice dinner, but keep is discreet. I don't need anyone else tagging along. You can dress however the hell you want, but the less the better. Can't wait to see you, The better Shinazugawa

Shinobu

Greetings, Love! I was so busy planning to ask you I hadn't realized you were already off on your mission! So i'll do it this way so their isn't too little time to prepare. For valentines, would you like to come with me to the city? I have a few things I need to pick up, but I know you grew up near it and I would love to have a taste of your home. Whatever you'd like to do, Shinobu Kocho of the Butterfly Estate

Uzui

To our treasured girl, Normally I don't do this kind of thing, but with a new adition to our marriage we all agree it's about time to do something special! I'm going to be treating you and the girls to a dinner on valentines, but the girls thought you could all spend the day before together for 'galentines'. Be ready by 4:00 pm tomorrow and they'll grab ya. Don't have too much fun without me, Tengen, 𝐻𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓉𝓈𝓊𝓇𝓊, ᗰᗩKIO, 𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚊

Authors Note - Way past valentines but I still wanted to put it out there since I started it! I wont be doing lower moons sadly because I want to get to all my requestst again, but I hope you all enjoyed the event!

Disclaimer - All characters within have been aged up to at least 18 or older, and have been altered to reflect such change as needed.

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potchi-fics · 6 months

Text

Sundo | part two of 8 ball

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

sundô. imagine being so tired from studying, from using your brain so much that you just feel like collapsing. but you remember that at the end of the day, someone's waiting-- waiting for you. a simple gesture yet it makes you feel so many things all at once: happiness, excitement, comfort... and wonder.

NOTE: sundo means to fetch someone from somewhere.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Y/n leans back on the chair she has been sitting on for hours now. she checks her phone and she sees that it's 5:59 pm. she got too busy with academic work, she always wants to finish her projects as soon as possible because she doesn't like procrastinating.

she sighs through her nose, holding the bridge of her nose, she's so tired. even her ears hurt from the hours of wearing her headphones.

and of course, her friends are studying alongside with her... but they all fell asleep. thankfully, though, they got their work done.

"wake up," she gently shakes Aiki, who whined and shooed her away. she moved on to Monika who woke up with just a nudge. "Noze, it's almost time to go home."

"god," Noze cracks her back, "my whole body hurts. good thing we don't have any classes for two days."

"you're goddamn right about that. somebody wake Aiki up." Monika groans out in defeat.

Y/n tries again, "Aiks, c'mon, it's time to go home."

the three struggled to contain their laughter once they see Aiki's state: drool all over her cheek and table, and the thousand-yard stare.

"aw gross, wipe your face, Aiks." Noze hands her wet wipes.

Y/n struggled even more when Monika showed her the picture she took of Aiki when she woke her up. she looks like a toddler who just woke up.

"is it time to go home? what time is it?" Aiki groggily asks.

she was about to tell her when something caught her eye; a text message from Bada. it read:

"what time's ur dismissal?"

it was sent four minutes ago. she texts back:

"6:30, whyy?"

she didn't get to put down her phone because it buzzed. it's a reply from her:

"i'll come and fetch u. where r u?"

Y/n's weirdly excited about this? and also a tiny bit nervous? nevertheless, she replied:

"library with my friendsss."

and she waits. she can't even stay still, and the other notice it.

"jesus, can you stop with the pen clicking?" Monika complains.

Y/n mutters out a soft sorry.

Noze looks at her with a funny expression, "who were you texting?"

a beat passes before she says Bada's name.

the trio have their what-the-hell faces on. before she could defend herself, they already started teasing her relentlessly; saying things like she's excited to see Bada, or that they were gonna go on a date.

"guys," she starts, "it's not a date and why would i be nervous? it's Bada." she rolls her eyes. "i could squeeze that punk easily."

but she is nervous. she doesn't know why. is it because of what happened at that billiards place? why did she even do that in the first place.

time seems to really pass by because six-thirty comes and they start tidying their place. making silent conversation. they come out of the library and see someone squatted down.

it's her.

Y/n thinks-- god, she's so handsome and pretty, she's not even doing anything. she malfunctions because she did not just think that? that is so not Y/n coded of her, she adds.

her friend's loud voice caught their attention, "hey, Bada!"

"yo," Bada stands up, looking at Y/n. "are you guys done? can i steal her away from you now?"

Y/n could only roll her eyes, "what do you mean by steal me away? as if i would let myself be taken."

"so grumpy," Bada tease, "careful now, you look like that one angry bird."

"well, in that case, i'm a pretty angry bird." she retaliates.

her enemy pats her head, "sure, sure.. let's go. bye guys!"

the trio shakes their head, even walking, the two seems to fight. they witness how Bada tries to carry Y/n's things but she wouldn't let her. however, eventually, Y/n gives in and gives Bada her things.

bada opens her car door for Y/n, receiving a soft thank you from the girl. she puts the things in the backseat and finally enters the drivers seat.

"you hungry?" she asks.

Y/n nods, too tired to talk. she closes her eyes and feel the car start up, she assumes that Bada knows a place.

during the car ride, comfortable silence envelops the pair. it continues that way not until she feels a hand on her thigh. Y/n opens her eyes and her gaze fell on the hand that is on her thigh.

Bada couldn't resist-- she caresses her thigh, rubbing circles on it, even slightly moving it up. she notices that the girl's breath is uneven. she thinks about removing it when a hand stops her.

the tension, even before what happened at the pool table, got so much thicker. it's so thick that they feel like suffocating.

sadly, they arrive at the place they're gonna eat at.

"c'mon, we're here." Bada parks the car.

they both thought the same thing: pussy blocker.

they go in the restaurant and order, wherein Bada insists that she treats her. of course, Y/n tries to pay for her own food but Bada is stubborn gal.

they take a sit once they get their order and start eating. surprisingly, their conversation is easy-going.

"so, what made you fetch me today? missed me that much?" Y/n asks with her mouth full of food.

Bada chuckles at the cute sight, "you're delusional. i just wanted to annoy you."

"oh, trust me," she answers in a grumble, "you're annoying me so much."

"is that why we're enemies?" Bada cackles out. "'cus i'm annoying? you didn't find me annoying back in middle school, though."

yes. they're childhood friends- err, childhood enemies. they're one of those typical rivals where they grew up together. they just haven't told anyone, but not because they don't want to, but because it wasn't just brought up until now.

she pouts out, "i wouldn't say enemies.. but yeah."

a loud laughs emits from the person in front of her again, can't believe the reason.

"stop laughing," Y/n gigges, "it's not funny. i'm just glad i don't have any classes, i'm so tired. and hungry."

Bada watches her with a smile, even though the girl in front of her is stuffing her face with food-- Bada still thinks that she's beautiful.

"stop ogling at me, i know i'm pretty and all," she flutters her eyelashes at her, "are you falling in love with me?"

"you sound so stupid." this time, it was Bada's turn to roll her eyes. "say, you wanna come over to my house after this?"

Y/n makes a playful shock face, "oh my? and you say you're not falling in love with me? but yes."

Bada feels like she's on cloud nine. what is wrong with her?

they finish their meal and she checks the time. it's seven-forty. they exit the place and Y/n complains about being so bloated now. to which Bada teased her by saying that she's always bloated.

banter ensues, even all the way to Bada's house, they're still bickering like children.

time check: eight-twenty-three.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚

should i make the next part smut? or continue with fluff

૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა

#imagines #oneshots #writing #bada lee #bada x reader #fanfic #female reader #fiction #swf 2 #swf2 x reader #street woman fighter 2 #bada lee x reader #lee bada #team bebe #street woman fighter x reader

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barcalover86 · 8 months

Note

Hiiii today is my Birthday!!!!

I was wondering if u can write something special for me please<3 if you can’t it’s really not a big deal but thanks a million if you do!

Ready to win? - Pablo Gavi

First of all, happy birthday, sweetheart!!!♥️

I wish you the best day and go make some memories! This one is for you!

------

You were packing your things quickly while talking to Pedri on the phone.

"Thank you so much for the help, you really saved me!"

"No problem, hermanita. You know I'll always be there for you."

You met Pedri while dating Gavi, but he was so nice to you since the first time he saw you. Being good friends, you begged him to help you make a surprise to Pablo, telling him that tonight, you wouldn't be able to go to his game.

You didn't remember what excuse you used, not being able to memorize everything now in such a hurry, but you knew you convinced him.

Pablo was sad that he won't see you today, being almost 3 weeks since he last saw you face to face. You talked on the phone, but obviously it wasn't enough for both of you.

You went to see your family, missing them terribly, and with Gavi's busy schedule, you couldn't find a day for you to meet.

The game had to begin in 4 hours, and the players were already at camp nou, so yours and Pedri's plan didn't go too well.

First, you had to meet him in the changing room to surprise him there, but now, being late, you had to figure out another idea.

"You'll still manage to surprise him, y/n. Don't worry." smiled Pedri on the phone before you hung up, hurrying to your car to drive yourself to the stadium.

The traffic was insane and when you arrived there, you still had to wait for almost 1 hour to get into the vip section. You could have gone through the crowd because there were a lot of people that know you as Pablo Gavi's girlfriend, but you knew it wouldn't be fair, so you remained at your place.

You texted Pedri, telling him that you had arrived. The game had to begin in 2 hours, and the footballers were already warming up in the waiting rooms.

You found your seat and began to think about how you could surprise Gavi. You really wanted this to be a special moment, you missing each other badly, but it felt like no idea was coming into your mind.

You checked your phone for Pedri's reply, but you saw your boyfriend's text.

Hola, how are u cariño? Will you be able to watch the game? If not, go sleep, your healthy is more important anyway. Wish me good luck. Te amo !

Oh, so you told him you were sick.

Thank you for your concern, Pablo. I'll watch you play tonight. Go get the ball! Yo tambien te amo!!🙌

You were so thankful for him. Gavi was the best boyfriend, you just couldn't ask for more.

While you were looking at your phone, an idea came into your mind. It was the perfect one to surprise Pablo!

You rushed to Barca' stuff and begged them to help you with it. They were happy to hear your idea and agreed to surprise Gavi.

When you saw the footballers coming to the pitch to warm up, you hid so that they couldn't see you. You only waved to Pedri who smiled, happy to see you there.

Now, 5 minutes were left until the game had to begin, and you slowly went in the middle of the pitch. First, Gavi didn't see you, and you were dying to see his reaction.

He knew it was time that someone had to pass him the ball so that the game should begin and you were the special fan from tonight. When he first saw your body, your back was on his front, him being able to see his jearsy on you.

He was surprised that someone could look so much like you from the back, but when you turned around, ready to pass him the ball, he was socked.

"First pass will be made by y/n y/l/n"

So, yes, Pablo wasn't dreaming!

He smiled widely when you gave him the ball, before hugging you.

"I can't believe you just did that! Yo te amo muchisimo, señorita!"

"Ready to win?"

"More than ready, amor!"

You quickly kissed his lips, while all the cameras were on you, before running to your seat to watch the game.

Pedri gave you a small wave and you could read from his lips that he thanked you for showing up.

The game was a whole victory and you couldn't be more proud of your team.

Everyone came to you and hugged you while telling you how much they missed you. When Pablo came to you, he kissed your lips with so much love, that you felt you were the luckiest girl.. not that you wouldn't be.

"Thank you.. thank you so much!"

"You know I'll do anything for you, mi amor!"

He smiled and kissed you once again, before taking your hand and walking around the stadium, talking about nothing and everything at the same time.

You really love this boy and every sacrifice that you did, do, and will do.. you know he deserves them.

How was this?? Tell me your opinion if you'd like!

Again, happy birthday to you, anon!!!!

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itsohh · 3 months

Text

Popstar MK1 Intros

A/N: Now I've finished off Electra Heart heres some intros set after it. This focus's on popstar reader being in costume when they come to fight + them still being in their relationship with Johnny.

Fighters: Johnny Cage, Kenshi Takahashi, Smoke, Liu Kang, Shang Tsung

Warnings: None

Intros Part 1 Electra Heart

Johnny: Oh ho-ho-ho gotta say babe that is a great look on you. I always said that the big screen never captured how truly hot I am but I think it also applies to you.

You: Eyes up here Johnathan. I'm not a doll for you to gawk at.

Johnny: Oh fuck that's hot.

Johnny: After this can I eat-

You: Not another word.

Johnny: Ooo you're so dominant in character, should wear that to bed. I might even leave a little bit on you at the end of the night.

You: Hmp.

You: Wait-wait-wait. Ah fuck lemme take these heel's off I can't keep fighting in costume. This was made to sing in no fight.

Johnny: Hey, hey if your feet are hurting go for it. There's no rush, I can wait. Last thing I want is you hurting.

Johnny: Have you written any songs about me perhaps?

You: Oh this is kind of embarrassing, but try an album.

Kenshi: Flashy.

You: And impractical.

Kenshi: When I see you like this it really makes me realize how much you and Johnny are a match made in heaven.

You: Kenshi you're literally blind.

Kenshi: I think any blind man can see how bright the sequins are on that dress.

Kenshi: Why the name Nightingale?

You: It's a long story.

Kenshi: You always say your stage self is a character you play but I've yet to hear any difference.

You: That's ‘cause that shits embarrassing off stage. I can get away with Johnny because… I mean look at him.

Kenshi: Johnny said you wrote an album about him. He hasn't shut up about it.

You: Yeah might have dropped the ball confessing that one.

Smoke: Woah I can't believe your- woah.

You: I'm surprised you're familiar with my work actually.

Smoke: Of course, it's a bit of a guilty pleasure but I loved your second album.

You: You know if you're ever free your welcome to tag along to one of my concerts and hit up backstage or front row whatever you prefer.

Smoke: Really?

You: Anytime! I always let my friends hang out.

Smoke: Your outfit is more stunning in person than I could have possibly imagined.

You: Yeah but the glitter gets everywhere.

Smoke: I remember your fourth album got scrapped, how come?

You: My fucking manager rejected it. Too off brand.

Smoke: Johnny's always talking about bad managers, have you tried talking to him about your situation.

You: ...I haven't. My manager isn't terrible but maybe I should.

You: The timeline you come from, was I like this?

Liu Kang: Admittedly I didn't know you very well.

You: Were we not friends in your timeline? Is that why titan me didn't answer your summon?

Liu Kang: You died man years prior, you were forced to come back only to see Johnny mourning his second wife.

You: So me and Johnny have always been together?

Liu Kang: That I don't know.

You: Am I destined to die again? So that Johnny can remarry?

Liu Kang: That is not what I have planned for you.

Liu Kang: In my timeline you were always in costume. You fought dressed like this all the time.

You: Fuck that. I can barely get through one fight in these shoes.

You: Why change up my destiny? Why not make Johnny happy with his second wife?

Liu Kang: I didn't decide on who you should love. I might have put you in the right place at the right time but that was all you.

Shang Tsung: Well well, this is certainly a change.

You: Don't worry, you're still the king of costumes you fucking snake.

Shang Tsung: You wound me dear.

Shang Tsung: It's a shame you chose to work with these imbeciles-

You: Don't even bother trying to manipulate me. I've been in Hollywood long enough.

You: At least I'll look good, at least I'll look good-

Shang Tsung: What are you mumbling? Don't be afraid to speak up. I don't bite- hard.

You: THESE HEELS MIGHT HURT BUT AT LEAST ILL LOOK GOOD BEATING YOUR ASS

Shang Tsung: It's curious the way your people worship you, for music alone…

You: You could always give it up and come a musician instead of the whole ‘murdering everyone with souls’ thing you do.

Shang Tsung: Hahaha, you truly are an entertainer aren't you?

You: Let's get this over and done with.

Shang Tsung: So eager to meet your demise?

You: Had a long concert today- kinda wanna go nap.

#johnny cage x reader #johnny cage #mk1 x reader #mortal kombat #posted on mobile so rip my formatting

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xer-melody · 1 year

Text

A Worshiper of Magic (For a Date) Part 2

Wednesday Addams x male!witch!reader

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4

Warning: Passing out, my god awful music taste at the beginning of every fic

Words: 1,338

Summary: Wednesday has a vision in your room, once she wakes up she realizes that she needs to have a little conversation with her roommate.

(A/n: This was originally longer but I split it in half so it didn’t seem too chaotic or feel like an information overload.)

This was all kinds of strange. You figured Wednesday was psychic, she lived in Ophelia hall after all, but you really didn't expect her to suddenly have a vision in your room (as though you hadn't passed out in hers). The moment you saw her knees buckle you leaped after her, catching her a moment before she hit the ground, a sharp pain shooting through your chest as you picked her up. Carrying and dropping her down on your bed, just as she’d done you.

She’ll wake up when the vision is over, or at least she should. You watched her for a second, then with a sigh, walked over to your desk again, pulling out a second teacup for her from one of the drawers. You set it down and filled it with the same tea you'd been drinking.

She woke up 6 minutes later, you wouldn't even have noticed with how quiet she was, if it weren't for you seeing her sit up stiffly out of the corner of your eye, she probably would have scared the shit out of you.

“Hey,” you said, grabbing the teacup from before and walking over to her, “You passed out a little bit.”

She looked up at you, completely unamused, then took the teacup from your hands, seemingly unaffected by the heat coming from the streaming cup.

“What's in it?”

“Ash-leaved willow and a bit of doremaze.”

She hummed before taking a sip.

“Shame, I would have enjoyed a bit of belladonna.”

You laughed, “Yeah, I’m not taking those murder charges..”

“Not necessarily, I've developed immunity to them, one or two wouldn't hurt me”

She finished her tea and stood, handing you the cup.

“I'll remember that next time..”

She didn't say a word as she walked past you, but you swear you could see her watching you from the corner of her eye as she passed.

She hesitated to touch the doorknob again, but she did, and nothing happened.

“Thank you, y/n, we should do this again..”

And then she was gone.

Wednesday walked into her dorm, a rain cloud practically visible above her head, more so than usual.

Enid, who was sitting on her bed with Thing, looked up with a smile, then noticed Wednesday’s decrepit demeanor and her face dropped to one of concern.

“Wednesday, what's wrong?”

Hopping up, Enid walked over to Wednesday and dragged her over to her bed, making her sit down on the flurry of brightly colored blankets and pillows.

“You are self-proclaimed my best friend, right?”

Enid had to stop herself from smiling.

“Yes,” she said, but it came out with the slightest of squeals.

“And that means if I confide in you, you aren't allowed to tell anyone?”

“Yeah, yes, of course.”

“Good, I need your advice on something.”

That's a first, but after Enid called her out a few weeks ago Wednesday has been acting more ‘friendly’ (in her own way).

“I was returning Y/n’s tie when I had a vision. It was… different from my other ones. So far they've all been about the murders, but this one wasn't.”

She stopped, an expression that Enid had learned to read as frustration on Wednesday's face.

“Oh..good different or bad different?”

Wednesday paused, thinking for a moment.

“I don't know.”

The vision was strikingly similar to real life. The same mild afternoon light shining through your window, the same overt silence that enveloped your room, the same two tea cups sitting on your desk. The only difference, which became so unmistakably clear to her, was you.

You weren't standing by the bed as you were when she attempted to leave, you weren't dressed in the school uniform, and you weren't holding onto a bloodied tie.

No, now you were standing barely a foot away from her, you wore a pair of black and white plaid pajama pants and a tired look on your face you arns wrapped loosely around her.

She turned away from you, taking a moment to think. You took that moment to lower yourself to lay your head on hers.

“No class today..” you mumbled in a slightly grumbly voice, your tiredness still evident in it, “..stay with me.”

Wednesday doesn't get flustered, it doesn't happen, but your words and proximity made her feel something akin to it. She pushed down this new feeling, instead she tried to focus on what this meant, she wouldn't be being shown this if it wasn't important in some way.

You pull her back, closer to you, and her hand slips from the doorknob.

She didn't move when you pressed a kiss on the top of her head, then onto her cheek. Her little, black heart almost skipped a beat at the display. Almost instinctively, her hands found yours and you intertwined them.

After being silent for an inappropriate amount of time, she answered you.

“Fine..”

She could practically feel you beaming. Unexpectedly, your arms tightened around her waist and her feet were off the ground a second later.

Wednesday didn't like being carried, but this felt…fine.

A minute later you were both sitting on your bed together, you’d become occupied with a spell book, and the book she held, the book you'd handed her, was a murder mystery novel from the 1800s. She'd heard of it before, but it was a rare book, having been burned for its crudeness and blatant anti-authoritarian themes, and she had never been able to get her hands on it.

Now, well, in the future, she had it, and based on the distinctive black book mark sticking out of the top, she’s already read most of it.

She opens the first page, and there's a little white card inside with dark writing on it.

‘Te Amo - Y/n’

She glanced up at you, still reading your own book, and something that should have been obvious from the start finally sunk in. You were… dating, you and her, for how long she doesn’t know but if you're finding rare books and telling her that you love her, it must have been for a while.

She couldn’t help but admit to herself how nice this would be. A calm day in with the person who, apparently, loves her.

She didn’t consider herself a romantic person, she didn’t usually enjoy the concept of being in a relationship. But this felt comfortable in a way that made her want to recoil from this vision entirely. Glancing down at the book, then back at you, she opened her mouth to say something, anything-

And then she woke up.

Almost in the exact same place as where she just was. Forcing herself to sit up she look across the room and saw you, and you saw her two, bringing a steaming tea cup over with a small smile and a joke. A short conversation later she left. Even though, deep down, she wanted to stay just a bit longer.

And now Enid sat in front of her, mouth agape but the edges of her lips curled into a smile.

“Wednesday!” she squealed.

Her love-obsessed roommate hugged her, squeezing her in her excited embrace.

When Wednesday was able to pull back she said, “I feel like I'm going to throw up..”

“You're just nervous. I mean, most people don't get to see a future where they have a loving boyfriend.”

Wednesday scowled, “He's not my boyfriend, it was just a vision, doesn't mean it will come true.”

Enid gave her a look.

“Do you want it to come true? I mean he's cute, and he's a witch and that seems right up your alley.” she said with a smile, “Aww, you two can have little seance dates and summon the dead together, how cute!”

Despite how nice a seance sounded, Wednesday shrugged her off.

“I have work to do,” she stood from Enid’s bed, but turned to face her for a second, “you tell anyone about this, and I'll sew your mouth shut.”

Enid just grinned at her.

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weightofkiszka · 6 months

Text

𝒯𝑒𝓃𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝒲𝒽𝒾𝓈𝓀𝑒𝓎

Pairings: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word count: 1,451

Warnings: 18+ MNDI, enemies to lovers, oral sex (m! and f! receiving) fingering, brat taming, m!dom, f!sub, penetrative unprotected sex

You walked into The Fox, it having been the requested hangout spot by your best friend. Having told him you would be there despite his twin being there, you kept true to your word. Jake. Your enemy. Yet you at one point had feelings for him but had pushed them deep down after overhearing him tell his younger brother that he would never be with a girl like you. But you quickly walked away before you heard the rest of the conversation.

"Hey! You finally made it!" Josh saw you from across the bar and came to guide you to the table him and his brothers were sat at. You sat next to Daniel after taking note that Jake wasn't there. "Thank you for inviting me out Josh, I needed a night out and away from my roommate and her boyfriend."

You looked around the bar after saying that, feeling someones eyes on you. You found him. His eyes glued to you, almost pulling you towards him. Jake had watched you walk in and immediately found that it was hard to look away. He held eye contact with you for what seemed like an eternity, but it was only a few seconds before he turned back to the bar.

"Y/N, would you like a drink?" Josh asked only to be interrupted by his twin setting a drink in front of you. "Whiskey. Just how she likes it." You blushed at the thought of him remembering your usual drink. "You know, its such a basic drink. For a basic girl like you."

You glared at Jake, he was always somewhat snappy towards you but that comment was something you would think about all night. "Well at least I don't drink something overly fruity like all the girls you take home, Jacob." He slightly narrowed his eyes at you before storming away and disappearing.

"Y/N, I'm sorry. I don't know why he's so rude to you. Let's just have a good time tonight."

After almost an hour and a half, Jake had returned but chose to stay as far away from you as possible. You all made the group decision to go back to Josh's house for the rest of the night. You planned on staying away from Jake, still thinking about how he called you basic. But he had other plans for your night.

You had been having a conversation with Daniel when you felt someone tap on your shoulder.

"Hey, um, can we talk?" Jake asked you with pleading eyes, his cheeks slightly flushed showing how nervous he was. "Yeah, of course." He took your hand and led you upstairs to Josh's guest room and shut the door behind you.

He sat on the edge of the bed while you leaned against the door. "I'm sorry for everything. I shouldn't treat you badly. You don't deserve it." You looked down at the floor, waiting for him to continue but the room grew uncomfortably silent. "I accept your apology. Although there really is no reason to be rude. What did I ever do to you?"

"Well maybe if you noticed me instead of Daniel I wouldn't be rude." He mumbled to himself, not realizing you heard him.

"Wait, you think I like Danny? Good lord Jake, how can you be so ignorant? I mean it's not like I haven't been so obvious the last three years, but you wouldn't know. All you want is to get your dick wet and it's so painfully obvious that you'll stick it into anything that isn't nothing but a girl at the bar who probably fucks every man who walks in."

You turned around and opened the door to walk away from him but he was beside you in seconds, pushing the door closed before you had a chance to open it all the way. "Don't talk to me that way, little girl. I have no problem reprimanding you." He grabbed your shoulders and turned you around to face him, his eyes filled with anger with a hint of lust.

"Do it then. Reprimand me. I dare you." You rolled your eyes at him and he took the opportunity to grab both wrists and pin them above your head. His eyes no longer filled with anger, but lust. He pressed his hips against yours. Your eyes widened when you felt how hard he was. "J-Jake, I-", he cut you off by pressing a kiss to your lips. "Goddamn it Y/N. You're so annoying sometimes. Such a brat, I wanna fuck it out of you." He pressed kisses to your neck and jawline in between words.

His kisses causing whimpers to escape your lips, you squeezed your thighs together realizing how wet you already were. Jake pushed his knee in between your thighs. "No no Darling. You don't get to touch yourself in anyway. After being such a brat to me all these years, I'm gonna teach you how to behave." He guided you to the bed, and pushed you to sit down once your legs hit the edge of it. He bent down and took both shoes off for you and threw them down somewhere behind him. "Stand up and take your clothes off, love." Doing as you were told, you sat back down on the bed as he had you moments before.

"I'm gonna fuck that pretty little mouth of yours. You'd like that wouldn't you?"

He gave you no time to answer before undoing his pants and pulling his jeans down his hips and off of his legs. He grabbed your hair in his fist to hold it back, and tapped your lips with himself before pushing past your lips and into your mouth. Jake held your head still as he threw his head back. "Your mouth feels so good baby. Tap my leg if its too much."

He slowly began to fuck himself into your mouth, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat, but you willed yourself not to gag around him. "Good girl, you're doing so good for me." His pace began to pick up, soft moans tumbling from his lips. You put both hands on his thighs and could tell how close he was just from how tense they were. He pushed himself all the way to the back of your throat. "Take it like the good girl you are, Y/N. You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth."

Jake sank to his knees and pushed your thighs apart, running his fingers through your folds pulling a moan from you. "Oh Darling, your so wet. Is this all for me?"

"Jake, please. I need you." You felt his lips around your swollen clit, licking and sucking. He put both your legs on his shoulders and supported his weight with one hand on the bed, the other at your entrance and immediately finding your g-spot and curling up towards it."Oh my god, Jake. I'm already so close." He pulled away from you and stood up. "On your knees, baby. Face down, ass up. Now."

"Yes sir." You were more than willing to do anything he told you. After getting into the position he told you, you felt him behind you. "I'm gonna make you feel so good. You won't be able to remember your own name when I'm done with you." With that, you felt him line himself up with your entrance, slowly stretching you out to get used to his length.

"So tight for me. You feel so good." Fucking you as fast as he possibly could, you pressed your face into the pillows trying to muffle how loud your moans were. It was undoubtedly the best sex you'd ever had. He felt you clench around him, and knew you were on the edge.

"Come on baby. You can do it. That's a good girl." You were screaming through your orgasm, as he talked you through it. Not long behind you. His movements slowed as you caught your breath. Jake pulled out and shot his finish all over your lower back.

"Stay there, I'll clean you up." He disappeared down the hall and quickly returned with a wet washcloth and cleaned you up as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder. "I've had the biggest crush on you, Y/N. And after tonight, I'd really like to take you on a proper date."

You looked up at him as he laid down next to you, smiling. He pulled you against him and kisses your forehead. "We'll talk about it in the morning though. You need some sleep."

From stairs, you heard Josh, "Finally! They admitted their feelings for each other!"

taglist:

@profitofthedune @sunflwerfangirl

#dannywagner #greta van fic #greta van fleet #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka x y/n #jake kiszka fic

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ashwhowrites · 1 year

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hellooo, 31 and 41 for angst 7 for fluff. So it’s like angst with a happy ending. But the plot kinda goes that eddie doesn’t think he’s good for the reader so he lies and says he cheated cause he knows she won’t forgive him for that, but maybe someone tells reader the truth a couple weeks later and there’s a really cute getting back together part.

Deserving of you

I LOVE THIS. I AM WRITING THIS ASAP.

“You broke me! You ruined everything we had and- for what?”

“Have you ever thought that maybe you’re the problem? All these people keep leaving and you keep acting surprised.”

“You’re the only person I want to spend my life with”

Part 2

Being the freak of Hawkins, Eddie has heard a lot of things about himself. He's dumb, he stinks, being a rock star will not get him far, he's going to need a real job, he'll never make it to college, and he's all around a loser.

Eddie can brush anything off because he knows the answers to their accusations. He's actually smart when he cares. He only smells after a cigarette. He fully believes in his band, and he will be a true rock star. He didn't need college. So to him, he's a winner.

And he fell in love with a girl who saw him the same way. She was amazed at how his brain worked. She adored the smell of his cologne, with a small hint of his cigarette musk. She's seen the band; they fucking rock. She's his number-one groupie. She didn't even care about college either. She fell in love with a winner.

Eddie, as it was said, is smart. So when he landed a girl who walked out of a model catalog, he couldn't wrap his brain around that one. He doesn't even remember if he introduced himself in a full sentence when he met her; he was talking nonsense. something about the weather that somehow led to "Eddie." But the second he heard her laugh, he was done. Eddie didn't believe in that dumb love at first sight bullshit, but he believed in her.

When she quickly climbed the ranks at Hawkins, he wasn't surprised. She was beautiful, and with looks like that, you'll get snatched up by the jocks real fast. So when she became best friends with Chrissy after a week, that wasn't a shock. When Jason tried to hit on her, that wasn't a shock. When she was easily welcomed by the popular squad, that wasn't a shock.

The true shock of it all was that she still talked to Eddie. She still walked to his locker every morning. She even sat with him at lunch some days. Eddie truly thought maybe she was dumb; why risk it all for him? Being new and welcomed by the popular kids was not common and very hard to achieve. But one smile got her whatever she wanted

When Y/N decided she wanted Eddie, she was going to have him. When the second Chrissy told her that the gorgeous metalhead with puppy eyes was on the market, she was ready to buy.

Before she knew it, she was in the back of Eddie's van with her tongue down his throat. And ever since, they've been together.

Y/N adored Eddie. After a year of being together, she truly felt like she was in love with him.

If there was one thing Eddie couldn't brush off, it was the fact that he didn't think he deserved Y/N

Every time he looked at her, he had no idea how he had landed her. After a year of being together, he truly felt like he was in love with her. It scared him but excited him.

But he never had the balls to tell her, to trap her down with him.

When the school decided to question Eddie, they wondered how Y/N and him were still together. Jason was an ass, and everything he said was full of shit, but Eddie was starting to believe his words.

"Yo freak, she's still with you? I wonder why."

"Freak, what do you pay her to keep her around?"

"Hey, freak, I think it's some type of bet by this point. No one's been into you for this long."

"You are definitely doing some devil shit on her."

"not sure what she sees in you, trailer trash"

"you wouldn't ever be able to take care of her. You have no money and not even a real house. Couldn't even afford a ring if you wanted."

"You don't deserve her, dude, you know that right?" She's way out of your league. She has just clung to you since she met you when she first arrived. doesn't know how to drop a loser like you. A whole charity case You're pathetic with your heart eyes. You love her, don't you? Too bad she would never love you."

It all rang in his head every damn minute. He barely sleeps, hearing Jason echoing in his mind. It hurt, and he believed it.

One thing about Y/N was that she could never be upset with him, and he knew that. When he broke her favorite vase, she smiled and brushed it off. When he forgot her birthday present, she shrugged and pecked his lips. He has been an idiot countless times, and she stayed with him anyway. That's how he knew he didn't deserve her. He was holding her back. She would never love him the way he loved her. He needed to end things before they got even more real.

If there was one thing to make her hate him forever, it would be unfaithfulness. It hurt, but he had to break up with her, and he knew how.

Y/N decided she was ready to tell Eddie she loved him. She didn't want to wait anymore. She knew Eddie was her endgame. She wanted to marry him, have kids, tour the world, and be together forever. She doesn't care if she's just a teenager in love. She wanted him.

She was going to do it tonight.

Eddie decided he was ready to break her heart. He didn't want to wait anymore. Even though he loved her and believed he would love her forever, it was time to let her go. Find someone who does deserve her. Someone who could afford to take care of her

He was going to do it tonight.

"I need to tell you something!"

"I need to tell you something."

They spoke at the same time. She sounded excited, but he sounded bored.

She eyed him questionably; Eddie always spoke with passion, never so dull.

Eddie took a deep breath and grabbed her hand. He needed to be selfish for one more second before he lost her forever.

He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her one last time. He moaned at her familiar taste and warmth. He cupped her cheek and pressed himself against her as hard as he could. He planned to kiss her until he couldn't breathe. She pulled away with a dopey smile.

"Hello to you too." He hated the way she smiled. She had no idea he was going to break her heart into thousands of pieces.

Her eyebrows stitched together, and her lips turned into a frown. "What's wrong?"

Eddie didn't notice he was crying until she kissed his cheeks and wiped his tears. He looked into her eyes one last time. just one last time while she still looked like she could love him. One last look to remember how they used to shine when they saw him. Because he knew after this, those eyes would only look at him with hatred, but that's what he needed.

He sobbed into her. holding her tight. She panicked and wrapped her arms around him. She's never once seen him so broken over something. She was terrified by what he had to tell her. Did he have to move? Is something wrong with Uncle Wayne? Is his dad back?

"I cheated on you." now that she did not see coming. She felt like time had stopped. Her arms went limp around his body.

She pulled herself away and stood between his legs.

"Wait what?"

"I slept with someone else." It hurt him to even say it. He felt like he was eating shards of glass and swallowing them without water. feeling every scratch and poke to his throat.

"When?" He hated how she sounded breathless, fragile, and vulnerable.

"Last week, when you couldn't make it to the hideout," It was a believable lie. She had to cancel at the last minute to babysit a cousin. She was upset that she had to miss the show, and he was a bit upset too.

"You fucking asshole!" He's never heard her shout before. His body physically flinched at the sound. Her voice echoes throughout the trailer, bouncing off the windows and heading straight back into Eddie's ears. He couldn't look at her; he was staring at her shoes.

"Look at me! Look at me and tell me you fucked another girl." He shook his head, "no." He couldn't handle seeing her.

She scoffed at his rudeness and yanked his chin up. Her eyes searched for some type of lie. All she saw was guilt swimming around. He was guilty; he actually did it.

He wished she hadn't done that. He wished with everything in him that when he looked at her, all she would have on her face was anger. He found none. just simply broken and betrayed. He wishes there was fire in her eyes—hatred even. This was so much worse.

"I fucking cheated on you, okay? I was pissed that you blew me off, and I got drunk. I found a girl, and we had sex. I fucked her, okay? And in the moment, I didn't regret it. I didn't even think about you once. Is that what you wanted to hear Y/N? Huh?" He screamed as he stood up. looking down on her. She hated it.

The slap echoed even louder than their screams. His cheek burned with agony, but it was nothing compared to the burning in his throat as he held back more sobs.

He needed to continue this act. He needed to make it hurt, and she needed to hate him.

And with her next words, he knew he had succeeded.

"You know what Eddie? I have held you when you cried because people leave you. Have you ever thought that maybe you’re the problem? All these people keep leaving, and you keep acting surprised. I will never forgive you for this. I hope you find that girl and live happily ever after. I wish I never met you that day."

It almost felt like she slapped him again and again. Somehow the physical slap hurt less than the words that were hitting him in the face.

He knew she didn't mean it. She needed to show some type of power over him. She's lying to make it seem like she will be okay after this. He loves her; he knows her.

She was walking out of the trailer, and he didn't want to follow. He didn't want to see her go. He sat back on his bed, his head in his hands.

She was even more hurt by the fact he didn't follow her. didn't even try to make her stay. Maybe she should have felt grateful for that, but all she felt was unloved. A year and it was gone?

Her hand was on the front door handle, but she stopped. She stood at the end of the hallway, and she could see clearly into Eddie's room. His body hunched over.

"Eddie?" It was so soft she didn't know if it would travel far enough to his ears. But he peaked up. His eyes met hers. “You broke me. You ruined everything we had, and for what?"

With that, she slammed the door on her way out.

A reply she couldn't hear and wasn't meant to hear whispered in the silence of Eddie's trailer: "Because you deserve more."

Eeek! I love how bad this hurt :)

I'm going to post it in 2 parts because I love to torture everyone!

But part 2 will be posted very soon after because I'm going to start writing it right away !