#why don’t we talk about it? How good it feels. / And if you dont know then you're lucky / but also you poor thing. Bring the band out on th

[sweet1delusi0ns]

Naruto boys insecurity’s

──☆*:・ﾟ

!Angst!

Characters: Naruto🦊,sasuke🗡️,Itachi🥀, kakashi🍃, kiba🐺, shikamaru🀄️,shino🪲,neji🎋,Lee🥋,choji🍥,gaara⏳,kankuro🪆

Naruto🦊-*

He’s grown up an outcast so he’s slightly insecure anyways (poor thing). He thinks he’s a bother to you sometimes and gets himself in a slump. You noticed how hes been rather quiet with you, not asking for anything, not begging for cuddles or kisses, you knew something must have been wrong. And it was confirmed when you over heard him talking to himself in the mirror, basically just insulting himself

“Why cant i just do better…” “why do I have to be so annoying…everyone thinks I’m annoying…probably even y/n. They could do so much better why m-” “NARUTO DONT YOU DARE FINISH THAT SENTENCE” you bust down the door causing naruto to quickly wipe his teary eyes “hey y/n! W-what do you mean?” “You know what I mean naruto.” You reach for his cheek to make sure he keeps his eyes on you “your not a bother naruto. And you deserve me as much as I deserve you! Why are you saying this?” He’s in full blown tears now, ugly crying and everything “e-everyone already thinks that way about me I-I thought you would think the same after a w-while” he sniffs “foxy…do I need..to show you how much you mean to me?” His eyes widen at the fact that he actually means something to you. For the rest of the night you never left him alone once, you spoiled him so much more that normal which made him feel so much better. He loves youuuuuu

Sasuke🗡️-*

Also was treated like an outcast but it didn’t affect him in the way it affected naruto. He doesn’t really think he’s a bother, if anything he’s scared that you think your the bother, since he’s so “cold” towards you sometimes he’s scared your going to leave or think he doesn’t love you anymore. Once it got so overwhelming for him he had teary eyes for hours just thinking about how he acts, he decided he needed to tell you. Once he found you he ran towards you and engulfed you in a big hug. You thought this was adorable or him being silly until you felt something wet on your shoulder followed by a broken breath

“S-sasuke? What’s wrong…Are you crying?” You could hear a sad whimper coming from him. “I love you. I-I love you so much y/n please don’t forget. No matter how I act I-” “I know. Baby I know. I love you too, what’s this about, your scaring me?” He didn’t dare remove his tear stained head from your shoulder “I know I’m…mean s-sometimes but-” it finally clicked for you why he was so upset all of a sudden “sasuke… your not mean! And I know you love me no matter how you act.” “I..just thought…no one understands how I truly feel. I just Need you to know…t-that I do love you” he pulls away from your shoulder to wipe his eyes before turning away from embarrassment. He felt you wrapping your arms around him causing him to jump. “I’m sorry y/n. I’m just over reacting” “no don’t. Don’t say that… I think we should lay down. You need to relax do you need me to help you? I know you feel…weak” he takes a deep breath “please y/n… yes” you both walk together to your bed. Trust me when I tell you he is going to feel a lot better after some comfort *wink*

Itachi🥀-*

He just feels… worthless sometimes. He just doesn’t feel worthy of good things that happen in his life, aka you. He doesn’t feel worthy of you. But he is very open with you unlike others, he tells you what’s wrong no matter what.

“Y/n. I have uhm… I have some feeling I would like to share.” “Of course Love, what’s up?” “I…” You gaze softens realizing he’s going to get upset “I don’t feel worthy.” “Oh…tachi… come here” you pat the spot next to you but instead he took your lap instead, he reaches in for a hug before speaking up again “tell me you love me. Please. And tell me I’m worthy…” “you are the love of my life. And you are worthy of that love. No matter what you think you deserve love.” That is all he needs to hear. Although he gets very upset you can always calm him down. It does happen more often but you do not care. Anything to make him feel better.

Kakashi🍃-*

We all know he’s very attractive but that doesn’t mean he thinks the same. He doesn’t like his scar, he doesn’t like the story it holds and he doesn’t like the look of it. He can hold back the insecurity in battle because he knows it’s not worth dying because he thinks it’s ugly, but he cant hold back the insecurity on a day to day basis with you, he gets extremely timid with you. You see him with the mask off all the time so it’s kinda funny that you rarely see him without something covering his eye. But you just thought he forgets it’s there so you didn’t think about insecurity, but when you walk in on him washing his face he almost instantly covered his eye with his palm you knew something was wrong

“Ay? Why you covering that cute face?!” “Aha thanks y/n” he chuckles trying to make you ignore it yet he still kept his hand up “serious what’s with your hand?” “Well..ah you know..” he points to his eye with his other hand “what your scar? Babe I don’t care” he smiles softly before replying “I care…” “take your hand away” “I’d rather not-” “kakashi.” Groans “yes y/n…” he drops his hand and you let out a content sigh “there’s my baby” you grab his face with both hands and kiss his scar softly “you don’t find it odd?” He looks away while blushing “no kakashi I don’t find it odd because I love you.” He flashes a smile before turning back to the mirror with a weird look still on his face, to lighten the mood you grabbed him my the cheeks to shake his head back and forth before giggling at him. “Cutiee” you comment before kissing his beauty mark then walking back out the door.

Kiba🐺-*

He’s sensitive, he may be a big joker but if someone else says the wrong thing he will not be happy, normally the only thing he doesn’t like being called is a mutt or a dog. It makes him feel ashamed of him family quirk. Just because he loves animals doesn’t mean he is one right? He started thinking maybe he is just a dog. A Dirty, annoying, unfunny mutt. He started to feel like foolish for loving a dog so much, but he can’t help it it’s the family he was born into.

He has been rather distant from akamaru, still taking him on mission but recently he hasn’t been letting his puppy in the house as much anymore and he gets upset when you let him in instead. “Why did you let him in the house y/n!” “His a good boy he won’t chew up furniture if anything you would!” You we’re just trying to lighten the mood but it didn’t help “akamaru outside now!” He commands “come on why don’t you want him inside??” “You don’t need two mutts in the house y/n” this confused you for obvious reasons “two mutts? Are you talking about yourself? Your not…your not a dog thought?” He crosses his arms in protest “tell that to my friends, Or anyone because for some reason they all think I am a dog stuck in human form and it’s getting old.” You chuckle nervously “your not? If your talking about your dog like features and fighting style it’s just your quirk? It’s not your fault you can’t choose” he lowers his head “even you think I’m a dog sometimes!” “No baby. I dont I think your a human just with some animal features but most of your family is like that?” “If you don’t think I’m an animal why do you call me names like puppy.” He’s stretching, he loves it when you call him that he’s just in a mood “I call you that because you love attention and can’t go a day without seeing your loved ones. Plus your as cute as a pup!” His shoulders relax finally realizing he shouldn’t be upset over this. “I just feel ashamed of who I am sometimes y/n I’m sorry.” “Don’t be sorry. I love who you are if that makes it better” he chuckles “yeah…it kind of does make it better honestly…can you kiss me..?” He smile at his sudden change of mood “of course!”

Shikamaru🀄️-*

He knows he’s good looking but he also knows he’s not the best, he also knows your absolutely stunning, so it gets to him sometimes without realizing is, he changes his look every now and then to see if it would make him feel better. Maybe make him more attractive to you he hopes

“Dear could you turn around please?” “Sure shika whats u-” you stop dead in your tracks with a shocked look on your face “your hair is down!!!” You exclaim, the only time you see his hair down is when he is sleeping, you’ve never seen it down when he’s awake “I know, I’m trying something, does it look good?” You giggle “You always look good darling, just not use to it that’s all” you walk over to grab a handful of his hair which was slicked back but not up in a ponytail anymore. “Well I think you look handsome no matter what” he groans “don’t lie to me does it make me look worse?” You give him a nasty look “worse? You say that as if you already look bad…?” “Well eh-” “well what? Your very attractive Shika do you think other wise?” He puts his hands in his pockets “uhm sometimes-” “oh come on!” You grab his face “your soooo handsome no matter what you do with your hairrrr” you tease. He continued to make eye contact with you while a smile grows on his face. “…can I put a little braid in your hair?” “No” “Aw man.”

Shino🪲-*

He’s ok with his looks and doesn’t feel like a burden on you, oddly enough the only thing he’s insecure about is his voice. He thinks he sounds funny sometimes and doesn’t like how raspy it is, that’s why sometimes he doesn’t talk to you that much. Sometimes all he responds with is either nodding his head or shaking it which makes you feel bad

“What do you feel for dinner love bug?” “…” you looked around because maybe he left the room but no, he just didn’t respond. “Uhm hello???” “…” “are you hungry?” He shakes his head yes “with words please?” He looks around before responding quietly “yes I’m hungry” you giggle not quiet knowing what’s up with him “why are you so timid right now?” He finally speaks up “do you think I sound funny y/n?” “Uh no? Why” “sometimes I feel like my voice isn’t that pleasing.” “It sound pleasing to me-” he lightened up at the compliment “really?” “Yes of course!” When he’s insecure he normally gets over it fast, he’s rational and knows when he’s just being silly

Neji🎋-*

He knows he can choose his own destiny, he just wish the preset plan for him was burned into his forehead. He hated it so much, he was disgusted by it and therefor disgusted with himself. Sometimes you find him crying in the mirror over the symbol plastered onto him. But you always let him know that it doesn’t define him

You could hear cries coming from the bathroom and you couldn’t take it anymore so you decide to knock “sweetheart…are you crying?” He knew there was no point in lying anymore “y-yes..” “may I come in?” You could hear a cracked “mhm…” coming from the other side or the door so you walk in, immediately pulling him into your chest. “What happened. Did Someone do this?” He pulls away from your chest just to look back to the mirror to cover his mark while his lip quivered. You finally realized what was happening. “Give me your hand please..” he obliged lowering his hand. You grabbed his cheek and gave a very long forehead kiss. “Your worth more than this mark Neji.” You mumble against his head. You decided the best thing to do is go to bed and give him more love so that’s just what you did

Lee🥋-*

He may seem strong so it was shocking to you when he confided in you about how he’s insecure about almost everything about him (poor thing) he try’s to stay strong but he can’t help but get vulnerable with you

All you were doing was giving him love but he just felt unworthy of it. “My handsome, strong, perfect boy!~” kiss “well I don’t know if those words are accurate but thank you my precious!” You huff at his self doubt “don’t say that, your all of those things?” He laughs nervously “I don’t think so heh” “you are! You don’t think your handsome or strong…?” You frown “well uhm y/n…It obvious I’m not the best looking, and yeah I’m strong but…I could always be stronger.” He looked down at his feet in shame “Lee…take it back.” “W-what” “take it back. No one is allowed to insult my baby like that, not even himself.” He thought you were just joking until he looked up into your eyes to see the seriousness that laid in them, he could see tears forming in your eyes. “Please Lee. Take it back.” “I-I…I take it back y/n I’m sorry” “please…don’t ever say things that that again”

Choji🍥-*

He’s always been bullied because of his weight so of course he will be extremely insecure about it and anxious when your trying to love up on him, you knew he was insecure about it and you always told him it did it matter but you never realized to much it really affects him until your further into the relationship and you started to be more physically affectionate, he loves the affection just hates the body that it receiving it. All you were trying to do was hold him after a long day but he seemed so scared of if and you had to ask why

“Cmon let me hug you!” “No y/n..” you pout “why not! I wanna hold my fluff ball!” He cups his hands together then proceeded to look at the floor “I don’t think holding me is even possible…” your pout turned into a confusion “uh what do you mean choj?” He pinched at his stomach to hint at what he was talking about since he was to shy to actually tell you “oh…Choji you don’t need to worry about that I don’t care!” “I care because it means I can’t do certain things! How are you supposed to hold me!” You scoff “I’m confident I could carry you like a baby if I needed too.” “Your just saying that to make me feel better…” he crosses his arms and puffs his cheeks up out of timidness “I’m being serious Choji! I could totally carry you! Your not as big as you think you are.” He closes his eyes so tears dont form “I’d like to see you try y/n, you won’t be able t-” since his eyes were closed he didn’t see you walk over to his side, he only realized when he felt your arm latch around his shoulders and your other cupping around his legs. He open his eyes right in time to realize you just picked him up bridal style. He gasps in reaction, he turns to your face to see not a single ounce of struggle on your face “I told you! Your not that heavy choj!” This Moment honestly cured almost all his insecurity on that subject for a very long time. And sometimes he thinks “maybe she’s just really REALLY strong” he still loves the thought behind your actions. “Heh uhm…I guess maybe I’m not. Thank you sweetie!” “Anytime bubs~” with that you place him back down on his feet and give him a very passionate kiss

Gaara⏳-*

Most of his life he was basically controlling by either others or his inner demon so he didn’t have time to worry about appearance. But ever since he finally felt in control of his own life he now worries about his appearance sadly. He doesn’t like the mark on his head, he doesn’t really like his hair either and feels like his facial features just look wrong on him. He’s very good at hiding things so you didn’t realize until you overheard a conversation with him and his brother, he figured since kankuro is considered attractive maybe he should ask him for advice!

You were wondering around trying to find Gaara to ask him god knows what until you finally hear his voice along with kankuros, you walked behind the door about to knock until gaara’s question caught your attention. “So is there anything that could make me more ‘attractive’ or something along the lines of that?” “I don’t know? Maybe try face paint chicks dig it” you could hear a sigh leaving Gaara “I don’t want to attract ‘chicks’ I just want to attract y/n.” “What makes you think she doesn’t already feel attracted to you?” “I don’t know, I just feel like if I find myself unattractive maybe she does too.” That’s enough, you have to stop this. You knock on the door making them both look at it, you swing the door open and immediately look at gaara which was all it took for kankuro to take the hint “I’m just gunna..goooo…” you and him exchange nods before he leaves. Once the door shut you look back at gaara “what was all that?” “Oh so you heard?” “Yes gaara I heard, why do you find yourself unattractive? And why are your going to your skanky brother for help?” He turns his head to continue speaking “I can’t explain why I feel that way about myself, but I went to my brother because I know he is considered attractive to others.” You sit next to gaara and grab his chin to make him look at you. You lean closely to speak “how could you not love this face~” you whisper almost seductively while you drag your thumb across his cheek bone. “What don’t you like…?” His breath hitched out of fear of spilling his insecurity’s. “I guess…I don’t like the mark on my head, and I don’t like my nose much either, I also don’t really care for my hair it makes me look like a clown sometimes.” He’s waiting for you to agree with him but instead you lean closer to kiss everything he listed, first his little nose, then his marking and then you drag your hand through his hair which made him flushed. “Well I like Everything about you…” he finally makes eye contact with you, with red cheek. He took a big deep breath to reply “ok…thank you y/n. That makes me feel a bit better” you reach in for a hug which he gladly accepted!

Kankuro🪆-*

Even though he seems so hot and confident he’s much like his brother, sometimes he doesn’t like his bare face. He has make up on almost all day se rarely do you see him without any on, and when you do see him bare faced he’s weirdly shy which isn’t like him.

You both were in bed after work and you were just having a conversation, mostly it was just you talking which was weird because he’s normally high maintenance. “I couldn’t believe she had the audacity to say something like that, what do you think babe did she have a good point?” “I don’t know” his head is slightly turned to the side opposite of you which made it almost impossible to see him, he just washed his face so he’s completely bare faced yet won’t even look at you. “Babe? Cmon atleast look at me when I’m talking” “UGHHHHHHHH fine.” He turns to You shyly avoiding eye contact before replying “she’s in the wrong for saying that honestly-” you laugh “that’s exactly what I’m saying!……” you stared at his cute bare face for a little to long which made him anxious “what are you looking at y/n!” “I’m looking at your cute facee *boop*” he pulled away from your finger just to cross his arms “whateverr” you didn’t know at the time he wasn’t feeling his best but later he did tell you. But he still loves the compliment you give no matter how insecure he is at the time. Only you can make him feel better tbh

#naruto headcanons #naruto imagines #naruto shippuden #naruto x reader #naruto uzumaki x reader #naruto angst #sasuke x reader #sasuke uchiha x reader #itachi uchiha #itachi x reader #kakashi hatake #kakashi x reader #kakashi sensei #kiba inuzuka #kiba x reader #shikamaru nara #shikamaru x reader #shino aburame #shino x reader #neji hyuga x reader #neji hyuga #neji x reader #rock lee x reader #rock lee #choji akimichi #choji x reader #choji headcanons #gaara x reader #kankuro x reader

[alluringnectar]

Timeless

abby anderson x fem!reader

a/n: this is the final chapter, if u want a bonus lmk . not proof read yet!! i will tmr .

summary: abby takes care of you while you’re sick .

warnings: very fem reader, slow burn, angst, use of petnames, gentle abby, taking care of r, sweetheart!abby, fingering (r! receiving), cunnilingus (r! receiving), aftercare, happy ending

pt.1 , pt. 2 , pt. 3

after abby was informed of her duty “to supervise” you she took it instead as protecting you.

not that you were complaining, her undivided sweet attention was heavenly.

you wish you hurt yourself more if that meant abby could take care of you more.

the door to your bedroom creaked, causing you to flinch.

“hey, did you sleep well?” abby asks.

“jesus you scared the shit outta me.”

“yea, i did abby. thank you for everything.” you reply softly.

abby grins “do you need anything? herbal tea? pancakes?” “some tea would be nice”. you say. abby grins and she walks up to your bed. you motion her to come over and, she sinks into your bed as she sits. the closer she gets to you, the more jittery you feel. she pulls some hairs out of your face and behind your ear. her gazed softened as her eyes returned to yours.

“how are you feeling princess?”

after the couple days of her taking care of you, she started giving you cute nicknames, and every time she would call you one your throat would go dry and your heart would flutter.

“im doing really good abs…. i don’t know how i could ever make this up to you.”

“you don’t have to, i don’t expect anything.”

and it was true, she didn’t expect anything to come out of this, but she hoped.

she was close to your face, and you were close to hers.

she glanced at your lips and moved closer.

you leaned in.

but you heard a loud knock which had abby and you recoiling, abby shuffling to get the door.

“stay there, i have this baby.”

5 minutes passed by, and no Abigail.

she was taking a long time, and curiosity got the best of you, you walked out of your bedroom to the door and saw Mel and Abby,,, arguing?

“the fuck abby? you just met her and you’re already going after her. owen, now this?” mel yells.

“look mel, I know you’re upset at me and you have every right to be-”

“damn well I am! she’s my friend y’know. i don’t wanna see her hurt.”

then abby and mel spot you, leaning on your doorway, with a guilt of look in your eyes. you didn’t want to be the reason abby and mel were divided. “hey abby, i’ll talk to mel outside.” she nodded and gave no fight, she trusted you.

as you close the door to your apartment, you’re facing mel. “what was going on?” you asked. “look,, i warned you about abby I dont want her to hurt you.”

“she won’t. and if she does, it is what it is.”

“do you know what happened between her and i?” mel asked.

“no, i don’t” you eased up after hearing those words as you understood that she isn’t trying to sabotage you she is just worried.

“abby and owen… they had something before me and owen. i thought it was over & after they broke up, we all became friends. i started dating owen, and-” mel’s eyes welled up. “i was pregnant. and she got with owen.”

you were stunned, and you realized why she was worried for you. “thank you mel for caring about me, but I’m not owen or you. i’m not excusing anything abby did, but it isn’t all on abby. sex requires two people, it’s unfair to put this all on her. she changed, and im sure she realized what she did was wrong from what i heard earlier. you cannot change the past, and if you continue fixating on it you won’t have a future.”

mel broke down, and you hold her. you let go and tell her. “forgive both of them for yourself and your baby, you deserve to be happy.” mel smiled and thanked you. “im sorry.. for intruding, it wasn’t my intention. i know it isnt all on abby,, i miss her i guess i just didn’t realize how much i did now.” you smile at her softly, “take your time, im sure abby misses you too.”

mel thanks you for your words, and as she walks away, she looks behind twice and you are still standing at the door way, letting her know it will be okay.

you walk back into your apartment, and closed your door. you see abby sitting on the sofa, with your tea in her hand. as she passes it to you, you see her tremble a bit.

“are you alright abby?” you ask, concerned.

“yea, im fine princess thank you.”

“you don’t have to be okay, we’re human” you giggle, trying to lighten the mood.

“do you still like me?”

“what?”

“im sorry i asked-”

you shut up abby by closing her lips with a kiss.

“of course i like you silly, nothing will change that.”

abby loosens up a little bit after hearing those words.

you sit closer to her on the couch, and you begin to straddle her waist with your legs. you hold her face and press another kiss onto her mouth, this time sliding your tongue into hers. she groans & reciprocates by holding your waist rubbing small circles onto each side.

as the kiss deepens, her fingers start toying with the bottom of your tank top.

abby breaks of your kiss to say “can i take this off?”

“anything, abs.” you smile with full teeth.

abby chuckles. “up baby”, you put your arms up as she takes your top off.

“this too?” abby asks as she pulls on your small shorts.

you laugh and shimmy your way out of your shorts leaving you in nothing but your bra & panties.

“absss” you whine, as she starts kissing up and leaving love bites on your collarbone and your chest.

“yeah baby?”

“you have have to at least take your top off, i wanna see you too!” you pout.

abby laughs and takes off her top, leaving her in her sport’s bra. you and abby start kissing again, abby getting more rougher.

you massage her breasts, and she whimpers a bit.

you giggle a bit but its cut off quickly as she starts rubbing your nipples.

“ahhh abs,,,”

“is this okay?”

“keep going,, please abs” you nearly beg.

abby isn’t mean and she won’t tease you, so she listens to your commands like a dog. she takes off your bra & licks your nipple, starting to suck.

you moan loudly, toes curling.

abby unlatches herself from one and goes to the other nipple.

“feel good baby?” she asks

“more abs…” you barely get out.

abby yanks your underwear off, and pushes you onto your back.

abby and you hold eye contact, and you tell her.

“please, i’d only want this with you.”

and that’s abby’s green light because shes rubbing lazy circles on your bud, eliciting moans that gradually get louder as she speeds up.

you’re so lost in pleasure, you didn’t even realize she was gonna slip a finger in you.

“aaahh abby!” you claw her back, and she curls her fingers in and out.

abby inserts another finger into your cunt, and curls them back and forth hitting your g-spot repeatedly.

your legs start shaking, and you feel that funny feeling in your tummy. you start tapping her forearm, too out of it to form words but as a way to let her know you’re close.

she goes even faster, and your back arches. you close your eyes and hear abby say “it’s okay love, come for me.” and it’s like you were waiting for her to say that, bc you release on command. cum all over her fingers.

as you’re panting, trying to get ahold of yourself abby asks you

“can you give me one more?”

“what abs?” you laugh, “i want you to feel good too.” you look at her guiltily.

“nono, seeing you feel good makes me feel good too.”

you smile at her words and relax yourself again, the couch’s fabric a little soaked from your sweat.

“im gonna go ahead and start again okay?”

you laugh at abby’s assurance and roll your eyes at her playfully.

“yes captain,” you chuckle as looking down at her between your legs.

she smiles, and still staring into your eyes she licks a long stride onto your slit.

you moan and put your head back, but abby tells you

“nono look at me baby.”

and as you look back down at her, she latches onto your clit starts sucking.

“abby- i cant !”

“you can take it , right?”

you nod, and your thighs clench around her head, bringing them closer to your cunt.

she kitten licks your hole and folds, eating you out like she hasn’t ate in forever.

“mmph im close!!”

“let it out, its okay ma im here.”

you come all on her face, and abby looks up at you and smiles, licking her lips.

you start laughing at the sight.

“don’t look at me like that when you just ate me out!” you yell. laughing, you get a pillow and hit her with it.

abby gets another pillow and starts playfully hitting you with it, leaving your faces close again.

you lean in and close your eyes, abby closing the gap and kissing you passionately with no urgency.

both of you pull back, saliva connecting your lips.

“soo,” abby goes on.

“sooo..” you mock her jokingly.

“are we girlfriends then?”

“of course we are abs.” and you pull her into the tightest hug you could ever imagine.

“i don’t think I ever finished the tea you served me though.”

-

you’re 5 months into a relationship with abs, and as you’re holding her hand, fingers intertwined in eachothers, mel approaches you guys.

“hey abby, can i talk to you?” she requests timidly.

abby looks confused, but she nods. “can she stay though?”

mel straightens up, of course she can. “i just really wanted to say, im sorry, and i miss you. i think there’s a lot we need to talk about, and i’d regret it if i turned my back on you forever. one choice doesn’t define you.”

abby grins and tells the short hair woman, “i miss you more and it’s okay.” she looks up at you, approvingly. “would you want to join us for breakfast?”

#lesbian #lesbian pride #the last of us #abby anderson #abby anderson fluff #abby fluff #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #abby x y/n #abby x you #abby and ellie #abby smut #abigail #abigail anderson #tlou2 #tlou smut #tlou fanfiction #tlou #tlou game #tlou part 2 #wlw smut #wlw love #wlw ns/fw #wlw #wlw post #wlw blog #wlw yearning #Spotify

[majorpublicintersection]

my favourite is hammond b3 organ by gabrielle calvocoressi, absolutely.. (tw for suicidal ideation though!!) another is one by silas denver melvin ill dm it to you if youd like !!

YES DM MEEEEE GABRIELLE CALVOCORESSI IS SO. IS SO.

#oh i love that poem but for some reason i knew it as 'the days i dont want to kill myself' brah i'm so embarassed... #why don’t we talk about it? How good it feels. / And if you dont know then you're lucky / but also you poor thing. Bring the band out on th #stoop #LIKE WHATVERVRESSF #ASKS

[theriverdalereviewer]

just remembered how in the sixth grade there was a fucking riot in the cafeteria that ended in the entire grade getting silent lunch for like 3 months

#I think it was 3 months but it felt a lot longer. my god middle school was the school to prison pipeline at its finest #on one hand I think its unfair that we were all punished but to be fair the entire grade participated in this riot. I don't even remember #what we were rioting? I just remember a girl named whitney was involved and 1 thing led to another and whitney ran out of the cafeteria #and THE ENTIRE GRADE WENT AFTER HER 😭. myself included I didn’t even know why either but WE WERE AFTER THAT BITCH 😭 #it was so bad I remember everyone was heading one direction and then everyone started running back the other direction. #and I got knocked down in the process looking back this was really dangerous. but after that we got silent lunch for what felt like forever #like not only were we forced to sit with our homerooms (and some us didn’t even like our homeroom) but we couldn’t even talk to each other #which is honestly not good for socialization?? but again I can’t entirely blame them cause the situation was out of control. #but also shouldn’t the adults have had that thing under control??? anyways the person who ran silent lunch was the vice tyrant dr levine #he fucking hated us like that man was PISSED OFF and he made it clear cause if you made a sound during silent lunch #that man was gonna threaten you with detention extended detention ISS (aka in school suspension) #he didn’t even mean it but it was pretty good for instilling fear in us good kids. but one time I remember there was a kid who didn’t buy i #he didn’t give into levine’s fear tactic and levine started yelling “ISS!! OSS!! EXPULSION!!!!!” like calm down #I feel bad thinking about how so many kids who would ACCIDENTALLY make a sound were punished. and they were so damn terrified #cause it was like you were on your best behavior all of the time and then one noise and suddenly you had an out of school suspension #one time a boy named jc’s phone went off and he picked it up and it was his grandma asking him if he wanted ice cream 😭 no fucks given #and levine was screaming at him to hang up the phone and jc was like “this is my grandmother I can’t hang up" #and there came a time where we were finally off the hook and I just remember people in the cafeteria were clapping 😭 #like this was school sanctioned oppression and we were finally liberated... but then we were back to silent lunch and I don’t even know why #I remember once even I ended up in Levine’s office but I dont think its cause I was talking during silent lunch?? #I think it had something to do with bullying idk?? I just remember levine had my back during it and made the other kid cry and apologize #so shout out to levine. always good times goodbye!

[blue-jisungs]

fighting with them ♡

author's note. my very poor attempt on angst written in june 2023 LMAOOOOO enjoy!! (do not ask me why am i posting it now, i dont know either.)

making up after a fight - here !

┆彡 CHAN [ 찬 ]

chan couldn’t put a finger on it but there was something going on with you lately. from all of the people in the world he knew the best how life can get overwhelming sometimes. you were there for him during his hardships of being an idol… and a human being, in general.

and clearly, you were going through something too. but you didn’t say a word and even seemed to avoid him.

you arrived home late at night on one friday, a heavy sigh escaping your lips. chris is probably… working. so you you can easily sneak into your bedroom without him noticing you, right?

“y/n”

you turned around and saw him in the hallway, hair messed up and glass of water in his hand. his face lit up upon seeing you, however you could sense the weird tone of his voice.

“hi chris. i’ll go to sleep” you mumbled, taking off your shoes

“wait, can we talk? i know it’s late but i feel like nowadays we’re roommates, not a couple” he said. here it is. you let out another sigh

“i had a lot on my head today, can we not?” you grunted, leaving your bag on the floor.

“that’s the thing, y/n. there’s something going on and you just won’t tell me. and when we’re gonna talk when not now? you avoid me, let’s face it” chris continued, voicing out his worries. you knew.

“i’m sorry, okay? it’s just… i don’t want to talk right now and…” you pinched the bridge of your nose, earning a scoff from chan.

“you never want to talk, apparently. relationships are build on trust and communication. and i get the feeling you don’t trust me at all” his voice got a little louder but not to the range of shouting.

“listen, i–“ you started, genuine exhaustion feeling your body. you were afraid to snap and that’s the last thing you wanted to do. especially right now, especially at chris. but if it continues–

“i’m tired of your excuses, y/n! let me help you, talk to me, anything–“ chris pleaded and before you realised, it happened.

“can you shut the fuck up? i told you i’m tired! we’ll talk once you stop interrupting me for god’s sake!”

the realisation sank in as you watched chan’s features change with pain. his jaw tensed, eyes becoming cold.

“sure… i’m sorry. good night” he huffed, his steps leading him back to his studio.

your eyes watered, heart shattering into millions of pieces. you fucked up.

changing into your pyjamas you fell asleep on the couch, feeling like a burden in your own bed. your and chris’. and above all, you felt strange and empty, trying (and failing miserably) to fall asleep without him by your side.

┆彡 MINHO [ 민호 ]

you approached lino quietly, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. he jolted a bit by your sudden appearance, the wooden spoon falling out of his hand.

“oh, sorry baby. how are you today?” you hummed when minho with a grumpy face grabbed the spoon.

“you’re so fucking clingy sometimes…” he grunted, causing your eyes to widen “get off me”

the coldness of his voice made you a bit scared, backing away. minho continued with his cooking task.

“like a literal baby, i swear. let me breathe for once, is this too much to ask for?” he snapped, not even looking at you.

you understood, of course you did. when you started dating minho he wasn’t too big on skinship but… he never spoke like that to you in general or about this.

“okay. i’m sorry” you mumbled, trying not to show how hurt you got by his words “i’ll be in the bedroom”

he didn’t even say anything. you held your tears and walked away, only letting them go once you were buried in your duvet.

┆彡 CHANGBIN [ 창빈 ]

you let out a deep sigh, massaging your temples. changbin was looking at you with straight face, the tense silence between you two constantly interrupted by your group chat exploding with notifications.

“y/n, for the millionth time. they don’t deserve you, they literally treat you like shit” he grunted, glancing at your phone and reading the last message “'y/nnie we’re sorry, the date just slipped my mind', are you kidding me? what kind of an excuse is that?”

the thing was that your friends stood you up, again. lately they do that all the time but you know that they’re busy, just like you.

“a normal one! do i have to remind you the times you forgot about our dates? or i did? we’re humans, we forget things. and they’re my friends, they wouldn’t stand me up! we already rescheduled for tomorrow” you hissed “stop talking shit about my friends!”

“i’m not!” changbin whined “it just pisses me off because they meet up without you! don’t tell me you don’t know that!”

“i don’t because they don’t do that! stop accusing them!” you yelled, surprised by yourself. changbin sighed, his tongue poking the side of his cheek

“fine. just don’t run crying to me when you get stood up again, probably tomorrow” he huffed, crossing his arms

“i won’t!” you grunted, grabbing your phone and walking away to your bedroom.

┆彡 HYUNJIN [ 현진 ]

your boyfriend came home, a loud slam of his bag hitting the floor lighting a red lamp in your head. there was no usual, cheerful “hi baby!” or “i’m home!” coming from him.

hyunjin stepped into the kitchen, ignoring you, and poured himself some water.

“hi hyune” you hummed, approaching him. he mumbled something incoherent back, eyes everywhere but on you. you sighed quietly, shaking your head “how was your day?”

“awful, i’m exhausted” he grunted, poking his cheek with his tongue

“i’m sorry to hear that… here’s some food, i grabbed it from work. let me just finish heating it up” you hummed, smiling softly “and later if you want we can watch a movie?”

“just… i need some time alone. i’m tired, y/n. i know you wouldn’t get it because i’m an idol, i dance and work for the whole day but i just need to rest, okay?” hyunjin grunted, making you halt.

“what do you mean i wouldn’t get it?” you frowned, turning your gaze at him

“you’re… well, you’re not an idol. can i just-?” he spat out, running out of patience.

“oh, so i can’t feel exhausted? i know that working as a cleaning lady is not as mighty as being an idol, but it’s tiring as well” you said slowly, trying not to lose your temper.

“yeah, sure” he scoffed.

your eyes widened, genuine hurt breaking your heart.

“i’ll eat it later, don’t mind heating it up” he grunted and before he waddled away to the bedroom, he heard your murmurs.

“it’s for me… and you don’t mind talking to a filthy cleaning lady later…”

┆彡 JISUNG [ 지성 ]

han was watching you for the past fifteen minutes, tongue poking the side of his cheek. you seemed to have fun while chatting with the other guy. way too much fun.

he just let out a sigh and took a sip of his drink. he hated it. he hated that he had to go to this party, that someone spilled a drink over him, that the food sucked and that you… you were ignoring him.

you let out a laugh and shook your head. the guy who you were talking to, beomgyu, patted your head with a grin.

suddenly you felt a hand on your arm, squeezing it. you turned around and saw jisung and his… tensed jaw.

“oh ji! i was wondering where you were! this is beomgyu, jeongin’s friend…” you smiled and beomgyu greeted your boyfriend with a happy smile

“we need to talk” han just grunted and walked away. you shrugged and beomgyu sent you a questioning look.

following jisung outside, where the weather wasn’t too pleasant, you rubbed your arms and enjoyed the silence.

“what’s up?” you asked, tilting your head.

“are you seriously asking me 'what’s up?'… y/n… you’ve been having the time of your life with that guy” he hissed, crossing his arms.

“beomgyu? what do you mean? we were just talking, that’s all” you scoffed, not fully understanding what he meant.

“please, y/n. you two were flirting! it’s unbelievable” he snarled, his voice raising dangerously.

“jisung, you know i only love you. i was just talking with him because he–“ you started

“cut the bullshit. it’s good to know you had fun at the party but i’m going home. have fun flirting with him” he bursted out, walking away

“jisung, what the fuck?!” you called but he didn’t stop “what do you want me to say? i… i seriously! you can ask him! i wasn’t saying anything–“

entering the room again filled his ears with music, jisung didn’t catch the way your voice broke down. legs leading him towards the exit, he noticed beomgyu watching him shocked.

┆彡 FELIX [ 필릭스 ]

you drummed your fingers on the table nervously, giving the waiter an apologetic look. he walked up to you, sighing.

“i’m sorry ma’am but if you’re not planning on ordering something i’ll have to ask you to leave…” he said. you nodded, grabbing your purse

“i understand” you said and paid for the two glasses of water you ordered earlier.

“i’m sorry” the waiter mumbled, causing blood to flow to your cheeks. you shook your head and left, dialling your boyfriend’s number for the seventh time this night.

“–yeah, i know, right?! what’s up, y/n?” felix answered, the voices in the background becoming quieter.

“where are you?” you asked bluntly, crossing your arms

“i’m at changbin’s, why?” he asked confused

“why? well maybe because i was waiting for you like an idiot for the past two hours? why didn’t you pick up your phone earlier?” you spat out, voice starting to shake

“what are you talking about?” felix grunted

“our date, felix! like the third one you missed because allegedly you were busy? are you doing this on purpose or what?” you huffed, sitting down on a nearby bench.

“i was busy, y/n! i admit, today i forgot but we made plans with guys earlier and i just…” he trailed off.

“you just forgot. again. i don’t have any more patience or strength for that, felix. don’t you see that? you’re prioritising work over me” your voice broke, nails digging into your knees “if it keeps happening–“

“y/n… don’t say that! you know i’m busy, i’m an idol! what did you expect?” felix scoffed.

“i expected my boyfriend to be present in my life, you know? i understand that you’re an idol, i respect that and i support it… i just wish you were there for me, felix. do you even know i got fired yesterday?” you asked and were met with silence “exactly. now… have fun at changbin’s, say hi to the boys. i’m not coming back tonight”

with that you hung up, chest thumping in your chest. well, you’re going to have a sleepover at your best friend’s… again.

┆彡 SEUNGMIN [ 승민 ]

you hummed happily, just getting off the phone with your mom. entering the kitchen you noticed seungmin with his glasses atop of his nose, reading something.

“hey, seungmo! do you have any plans on weekend?” you asked. he shook his head as a no “great! my parents are visiting, then”

he groaned, making you frown.

“what?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“again?” he finally looked up at you, fixing his glasses.

“what do you mean again? they visited us like, month ago!” you shook your head

“it’s just… tiring” he mumbled, playing with the hem of the paper he was reading

“tiring? they’re my parents, seungmin. and it’s hard for them too. they’re still getting used to living in korea, i know how that felt and besides, you should get used to it” you huffed

“okay, so? can’t you just go on your own? i wanted to practice, i could use some time alone” seungmin grunted. you bit your lip, looking down. did he just… did not like your parents? you couldn’t lie, it hurt you.

“fine. have fun then because i guess i’ll leave earlier, since you could use some time alone” you murmured

“are you angry at me?” he asked, some kind of mockery in his voice

“yeah, i am! do you not like them? why didn’t you tell me earlier?” the question made him scoff

“i just don’t feel like going, geez! just go, you’re being annoying today…” he grunted, reassuming his previous task.

you mumbled a soft oh and left your place right away, not bothering to pack. your parents have some clothes of yours at their place either way.

┆彡 JEONGIN [ 정인 ]

you watched jeongin text someone with a huge grin on his face, fingers quickly tapping against the screen of his phone. letting out a deep sigh, you reassumed watching the show.

“wait, why’d you start?” he asked suddenly, putting his phone away

“i asked you like, five times if i can start already” you grunted, not looking at him

“sorry, i was…” he hummed, hesitant “…texting someone”

“who was it?” you asked, not really caring about the weight of the question…

“no one important” he huffed. now, his answer made you confused. anxiety slowly creeping into your heart, you looked at him

“why’d you answer like that? i’m sure that person wouldn’t be too happy to hear that” you joked lightly. jeongin just shrugged, letting out an annoyed sigh. there was a sound of door opening somewhere in the dorm.

“can we just watch?” he asked coldly.

you fell quiet, mind racing with thoughts. if you think about it, you caught him texting and smiling like a teenage girl a couple of times this week. and he always quickly turned off his phone once you were near him. what was it?

“oh, hi you two!” you heard changbin’s voice. you turned around to wave at him and he waved back, then turning your eyes again at the screen “oi, jeongin-ah, did eunjeong text you back?”

your eyes widened upon hearing the name. eunjeong. jeongin’s ex.

you looked at him, his face immediately dropping. you sent a death glare to changbin that only now realised what he said. but that meant… he knew.

“you’re texting her? your ex?” you asked, crossing your arms. jeongin sighed, trying his best not to roll his eyes.

“and what if i am, geez! it’s not that serious, y/n” he grunted, looking at you.

“for me it is, jeongin. you know i have trust issues… and i don’t trust her, especially! besides, you told me you blocked her…?” you asked, heart racing abnormally fast.

“i lied, okay? because you’re so sensitive about everything, just like now! yes, i’m texting eunjeong and honestly, i don’t regret it! she’s fun, okay? we broke up on a good terms” he grunted. you stood up, walking away “where are you going?!”

“i need to think” you hissed, passing changbin by

“that’s exactly what i was talking about… god, such a crybaby over nothing” jeongin murmured, grabbing his phone.

before he could open up a chat with eunjeong, he heard a loud door slam.

masterlist <3

taglist. @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @litepowee ,, @ocean-minho ,, @lessthanpast ,, @s-e-s-a-I-e-n-e ,, @fire-08 ,, @eternalgyu ,, @haecien

#skz #skz fluff #stray kids #stray kids fluff #skz stay #skz imagines #skz changbin #skz fanfic #skz felix #skz hyunjin #skz scenarios #skz bang chan #skz jeongin #jisung skz #skz minho #seungmin skz #skz reactions #skz x stay #skz x y/n #skz x you #skz x reader #skz drabbles #skz soft hours #skz angst #skz seungmin #stray kids scenarios

[mrsparrasblog]

You're losing me pt.1 POLY 141 x F, Reader

TW: cheating, hurt no comfort, heavy angst, dubious consent, there will be a happy end in the last part dont worry

pt.2

The most important thing about a POLY relationship was trust, and you knew you could trust them with all your heart. Kyle was so devoted to you that the mere thought of sleeping with another woman made him sick to his stomach. John was so full of loyalty towards you that he would never do anything to destroy your trust. Simon would rather kill himself than hurt you, the man who didn’t even dare to sleep with you for the first three months, afraid of hurting you should cheat on you? Never. And Johnny, oh your Johnny, was the sweetest of all of them. He took you on all these dates, introduced you to his family, and not a day went by without a compliment, nor a return from deployment without a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

So why do you still feel jealous sometimes? John reassured you over and over again that it was normal for you to feel jealous. He reassured you that nothing was happening while they were on deployment; they had each other for the fun stuff but definitely no other females; that spot was reserved for you, and only you.

Still, when you saw the new medic, you were so close to puking your guts out. She was beautiful, so stunningly beautiful and cool. A field medic is more in understanding with their branch than you with your job as a teacher. "Don’t need a medic, love," Simon reassured you once again, "we love that you're soft and not so rugged of war." Kyle immediately asked if he should stop talking with her outside of missions, and there you had your safety and reassurance.

Two months you spent without them; their last tour took a bit longer than expected. When John surprisingly texted you yesterday that they were back, you couldn’t contain your happiness. Unfortunately, you didn’t have time yesterday evening since you worked late, but you were eager to surprise them today on base, even though they thought you were only coming Wednesday. But hey, they’d be happy about the surprise. So you baked their favorite goods, put yourself in a cute outfit, and went on base.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johnny woke up with the worst headache of his life. He didn’t even remember drinking that much, only a few pints. Normally, he was more resistant. He felt a warm body around him and hair all over his face. He didn’t remember bringing you home yesterday, but yesterday was very blurry for him anyway. But he couldn’t complain; he missed you so much. When he nuzzled inside your neck, he smelled a different perfume than usual. It didn’t smell that great, but that's not something he’d say to you. Maybe he’d buy you a bottle of your favorite perfume as a present. The hair felt slightly different too, and your figure, did you change really so much in two months? When he opened his eyes and saw her, he couldn’t believe this. This must have been a dream, a bad dream. He looked down and noticed her lack of clothes under the blanket. "Fuck," he cursed out as he jumped out of bed, waking up the medic.

"What’s wrong, Johnny?"

"Don’t call me that; only she and SI can."

"You didn’t complain yesterday when I moaned it," the medic said with a teasing smile, grinning like a kid on Christmas.

"Don’t tell me we…" he pleaded.

"Of course, we did, Sweetheart."

Fuck, fuck, fuck, he screwed up. How could he do this? Where were the others? Why didn’t they stop him? How would they react? God, they'd kill me. No, she won’t. She will look at me with this disappointing glance.

As if the situation wasn’t worse enough, the guys walked in, looking at her standing completely naked. Kyle turned immediately around, but John looked knowing exactly like Ghost.

"You have 5 seconds to explain yourself, Soap," John grunted out, his hoarse voice sounding even deeper than usual.

"Oh, Johnny and I just had a bit of fun, Cap. Don’t worry; we can still go if you want to," she smiled brightly, her hand running over Price's clothed abs.

He pushed her away. "The only thing you're going to do is shower and leave."

She didn’t move. "It’s an order, not a suggestion, soldier," so she went to the shower, leaving the four men alone.

Kyle was on his way outside. "Where are you going, Sergeant?" Ghost asked.

"Telling my girlfriend that that bastard cheated on her. You don’t deserve her, not even a bit."

"Your girlfriend?"

"You won’t tell her a thing."

"You don’t get to decide that, Ghost," Kyle almost spat out.

"Ah, really, didn’t remember a thing."

Kyle went to him, grabbed him, and pushed him into a wall. "You fucking idiot, you ruined everything just because you couldn’t control your fucking cock."

"Stop."

"Aren’t you happy about it, Garrick? Now you have her alone like you always wanted?" Ghost asked, challenging the man who hurt his Johnny. He thought there must be a logical explanation for this; Johnny loved you; he wouldn’t do that.

"I said, fucking stop," John screamed at everyone.

You heard a lot of screams around the base. When you finally went to the room of Johnny and Kyle, you saw everyone there around, fighting. "So that’s what you do when I'm away to keep you in check," you hummed, chuckling a bit.

They looked at you in horror. Instead of the usual running towards you from Kyle, the picking you up from John, or the thousand kisses from Johnny, they just stood there in shock.

"Everything alright, boys?" you asked, letting the cupcakes rest on the table you baked for them.

"Love, look—" Kyle started but got stopped by Simon.

And from that moment, it went downhill. You noticed a flashy pink bra, definitely not your size, so far from your size that you were confused. "Whose is this?" you picked it up, and no words came out of them.

"No…" you already thought about the worst, but you wanted to give them a chance. Maybe it was a damn coincidence, Johnny's sister visiting or anything like that. The doubt went away in a second when she walked out of the bathroom, completely naked. "Oh, you're still together."

"Who of you?" you begged that they didn’t say all.

"I was. I'm so sorry," John said, his face looked apologetic, while the others looked surprised at their captain.

"It’s over," you muttered, trying not to cry to save you at least a bit of dignity. You were so stupid to trust them like that.

"Love, no, please," Kyle begged while Johnny and John were just silent.

"With all of us?" Ghost asked, wounded.

"You all knew it, and no one told me that John slept with that slag."

"EY!"

"Shut up," Ghost barked at the medic.

"I swear to you, I wanted to tell you," Kyle pleaded.

"Well, you didn’t, did you?"

"No, love, wait."

"It’s over," you asked out of the door, shutting them down from following you. "Let me the fuck alone."

"Let her go," John said to his men and they listened.

Back in the comfort of your own home, you allowed yourself to cry, holding your dog Winston till you felt in an unpeaceful slumber.

#cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #call of duty #tf 141 x reader #tf 141 #captain john price #john price #simon ghost riley #poly 141 #task force 141 #task force 141 x reader #poly 141 x reader #141 x reader #kyle gaz x you #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap cod #soap x reader #141 #ghost call of duty #ghost #ghost headcanons #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #ghost x soap

[cameronspecial]

how about we go a lil angsty? the reader hadn’t yet told him about her being pregnant bcs she remembers Drew once said he doesnt know if he wants to be a dad and so she tried to bring the topic up with hypothetical questions and his answers not exactly the thing she wanted to hear so she went all silent and pulled herself away and stuff.

I dont wanna give it away, so please you decide the ending..either they communicate and Dad!Rafe rise or…

I Want This

Pairing: Dad!Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Abortions and Miscommunication

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.2K

Masterlist

Well… She doesn’t know what she expected the results to be, but this is definitely an answer. Y/N doesn’t even think she can focus on the opinion she has of this situation because all she can think about is Drew’s.

———

“Awww, Babe, look at this pic of Lils that Mac sent me,” he gushed, holding his phone up to his fiancée. She looked up from her laptop, “So cute. Ugh, I miss them so much. I mean look at those little baby rolls. I just want to cuddle the cutie.” He smiled and brought her head under the crook of his neck. “I know. We have to visit them soon. I’m so glad I have a niece. It means I can be the fun uncle forever and never have to be a dad,” he mindlessly thought out loud, going back to scrolling on his phone. This caused her to freeze; they never talked about having kids, but he was so good with them that she assumed he would want them. She should’ve asked him about it because she wanted them. She didn’t though. Kids were important to her and so was Drew. She wasn’t ready to cause a rift in their relationship because of something small. 

———

Staring at the positive pregnancy test, she has to figure out a way to gauge how he would feel about it before actually telling him the truth. Once she knows how he feels, it will help her decide how she wants to feel about it seeing that if they are on the opposite page, then she would have to make a difficult decision. She shoves the positive tests into the box and hides them in her makeup drawer. He never goes looking there. She exits the bathroom, lets out a deep breath, and heads to the kitchen to start getting lunch ready. Drew is coming home from filming in Morocco later today. The music blasting through the speakers makes her unaware of the new presence in the house. He smiles at the dancing silhouette cutting potatoes. His hand drops over her eyes and she sets the knife down with a grin. Her arms wrap around her neck to bring him down towards her. This allows her to pepper his face with kisses. “Hey, you weren’t supposed to be back until tonight,” she notices, turning the music off. His hand rests on her hip, “I was, but I was offered an early flight and I couldn’t say no to seeing my girl early. I missed you and I love you.” She sinks into his hold. “I missed and love you too.”

The couple spend the next half an hour cooking together before settling themselves at the dining room table. Since they talked to each other throughout cooking, silence falls over them. A chime comes from his phone and he checks it to see a text from his sister. “Mac is planning on coming down with Lils and my mom soon. They can stay in the guest room, right?” Drew confirms, reading over the text again. She nods, “Yeah, I’ll get it ready over the weekend and buy one of those travelling crib things for Lils. It is going to be fun to have a baby around the house. The guest room would make a nice baby room in the future. It has nice big windows and the closet is the perfect size.” The chuckle that comes out of his mouth drops her stomach into a furnace. 

“What’s so funny?” she questions. He shrugs, “Not the babysitting part. They could both use a break and I will never say no to spending time with my niece. It’s just the thought of having to turn the guest room into a baby room is funny.” 

“Oh, why?”

“I don’t know. It’s a guest room. I mean where would our family stay when they come over?” 

“Yeah, where would they stay?”

She should probably ask if he meant he can’t imagine the room as a baby room right now or if it was a forever thought; however, she is scared of the answer she is going to get so she shuts down the conversation. They sit in a new tension-filled silence that he pretends he can’t feel. 

———

After lunch, Y/N retreats to the backyard to swing in the hammock. This tells him that she needs some space and he knows she is upset when she is still outside at eleven p.m. The friction of the patio door sliding against each other makes her turn to him. She doesn’t acknowledge his presence, waiting for him to say something. He places the plate of pasta he made for dinner onto the side table beside the hammock. “I found the pregnancy tests,” he states, bringing one of the patio chairs close to her. She freezes and sits up. Her legs swing over the fabric to face him, “How?” “Maddie helped me pick out clay pot Moroccan lipstick for you and I wanted to surprise you with it. I was going to hide it in your drawer…” he explains, eyes falling to his fingers and trailing off at the end. Her head moves up and down. Her thoughts are moving around her head a thousand miles a second. He is going to break up with her. He is going to make her have an abortion. Or worse. He is going to make her choose between the baby or him on the spot. 

He grows nervous when she doesn’t say anything and his suspicions are confirmed. He understands why she is unsure about talking to him about this. The way he has spoken about having a baby in the past could’ve given her the wrong idea. He hesitantly reaches to place a hand on hers and does it when she doesn’t shy away. “I want you to know that the decision about what we do with the baby is up to you and I will be at your side during the whole process,” he assures. Her confusion causes tears to crop up in her eyes, “You don’t want the baby though. I know that, so if you are going to break up with me because I do, then just do it. But making me have to choose is kinda cruel.” His heart squeezes, hating that his words aren’t coming out as he means them to be. His head shakes like crazy and he sits beside her. He brings her head against his chest, “Babe, I don’t want to break up with you. I want to have this baby with you too.”

“You want the baby? Then how come you don’t think the guest room would be a good baby room?”

“Because my office would be a better one. The windows aren’t too big so it won’t wake the baby up in the morning and the closet there is even bigger, so when they get older they can have as many clothes as their heart desires.”

“Okay, you are right… What about when you said you want to be an uncle forever and never be a dad?”

“Honestly, I never really thought I would want to be a dad. I was content with being an uncle, but, Babe, when I found that pregnancy test, all I could think about was how happy I was to be bringing a child into the world with the most amazing woman in the world and I couldn’t wait to raise them with you.”

She leans back and rests a warm palm on his cheeks, trying to hold back her tears. “So you want to have this baby?” she verifies. He kisses the tears away, “I want this, Babe. I promise. We are going to do this. Together.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura

#dad!drew #dad!drew starkey #drew #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x you #drew starkey #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey imagine

[munivrse]

❀⋆.ೃ࿔ Garden Kisses

bff to gf!bada lee

cw: friends to lovers. a bit of angst in the beginning. cunnilingus. jealous bada. bada is bad at communicating feelings. some texts thrown in there. possessive bada. pussy drunk bada.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"how do i look?’

“fine.”

“just fine?”

“what do you want me to say?”

you turn from facing the mirror to look at your best friend. bada was laid out on your mattress, hands behind her head while she observed you.

“i want you to be enthusiastic- i haven’t been out with a girl in so long. i need to look good enough to eat. and i mean that. i want her to-”

“okay. thats enough- you look great.”

bada grabs her phone from your nightstand and starts scrolling.

you stare at her in hopes she’ll meet your eyes but she never does. you walk up to the bed and grab her ankes. bada whips her head up in surprise.

“what the fuck are you doing?”

you roll your eyes, “you’re in a pissy mood. why?”

she just stares at you wordlessly. you frown at her actions, letting go of her ankles.

bada mumbles something under her breath as you walk out the door.

you glare at her, “what was that?”

she glares back, “i said i hope you have fun.”

your eyes water a bit. this wasn’t normal behavior coming from her. she used to be so supportive when you went out with people, making sure you were safe, texting you during your dates to see if you were havinga good time. lately she’d been so… passive. and you just couldn’t figure out why.

you slam the door shut behind you.

bada sort of feels bad, really. she just couldn’t help but be pissed off that you didn’t recognize what was right in front of you. she wanted you. desperately. and a part of her hoped your date didn’t go well.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

you open the door to your shared apartment, locking it behind you. you throw your purse on the couch and make way to the kitchen. you yell out for your roommate but get no response other than a quick, “hmm?”. you go ahead and start ranting about your date.

“she was so, so fine bada. really. but when i asked her if she wanted to get out of there, she looked at me like i was fucking crazy. like she wasn’t rubbing her hand up and down my thigh. those are horny actions, no innocence about it. so then i asked her what’s wrong and she has the nerve to tell me that i was being too forward. can you believe that? maybe i need to come across less brave. what do you think?”

you turn around and bada is standing in the entryway of the kitchen, arms crossed and leaning against the wall. you didn’t hear her come down the stairs at all so you jump a little at the sight of her,

“what the fuck- are we sneaking up on people now?”

she says nothing, opting to just roll her eyes. you continue,

“i don’t know. i’ve just been on so many failed dates. i want to joke around and say i’m too funny for these bitches to handle but gods honest truth…” you trail off as bada starts to walk toward you. your heart starts beating faster than it previously was, but you continue anyway,

“gods honest truth, i’m starting to think it’s me,” you look down the floor, picking at your hands, “and i dont know what to do about that. i just feel like nobody wants me. i dont know what i could possibly do differently. i think…” your words trail off. under your hands you could see bada’s shoes nearly touching your own. you could feel the heat radiating off of her body. when did she get this close?

“i think i-” bada’s hand goes under your jaw, tilting your head up to meet her own. she looked down at you, her eyes hooded. she leans down until her nose is touching yours,

“stop thinking.”

your brain malfunctions and you start spitting out words-

“well- i mean- i just think that-”

bada grins at you, her other hand going to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“m-maybe…” your eyes meet hers, “maybe i should stop thinking. or talking. one of the two. or maybe both-”

bada interrupts you by pressing her lips against yours. at first, you don’t reciprocate and bada panics, but then your lips begin to move along with her own. you wrap your hand around the nape of her neck and pull. bada takes this as her green light. she walks you two back into the counter. once she feels you bump against it, both hands grip your waist and she sits you on the counter.

she pulls away from you, hands rubbing up and down your sides. she leaves teasing kissed in between her words,

“been wanting to do this for so long.”

her lips meet yours again, sloppier than the last. her hands glide down your waist and stop at the curve of your ass, pulling your hips towards hers. you let out an involuntary moan, bada whines into your mouth shortly after,

“i’m so glad its me making you make those pretty little noises.” she leaves short kisses down your neck, “been hearing you give them away to other people. should’ve been me the whole fucking time.”

her lips reach the base of your neck, and she begins sucking marks along your collarbones. your hands grip at her hair, arching your body into her own. her hands move back up to your waist, toying at the hem of your shirt. she pauses her ministrations on your neck,

“can i?”

“please.”

she pulls your shirt over your head and gives you a soft kiss on the lips once your top half is bare. she gives you a look over, and when her eyes meet yours once again, just above a whisper, “you’re so pretty.”

she kisses down your chest and stops once she reaches your breasts. she just stares for a moment and you giggle,

“when i asked you ass or titties and you responded titties, you really meant it didnt y-” you cut yourself off with a loud moan. bada wrapped her mouth around your nipple and swirled her tongue around the bud. once she’s satisfied, she pulls away and blows cold air on it to watch it perk back up. she repeats this on your other breast as well. your back arches into her mouth for the second time tonight (and definitely not the last-) your hands grip at her hair a little tighter and she lets out a delicious, long winded whine.

“fuck- i should’ve done this so much sooner. fuck you for letting anyone other than me touch you like this. feel you like this.”

her kisses begin to trail down to your lower stomach,

“i should’ve never let you leave this goddamn apartment for those dates. i should’ve kept you home, made you feel good, kept you sated. all those nights i heard you moaning out other people’s names, wishing it was my own.”

bada gets to her knees, looping her fingers around your skirt and pulling it down. she kisses your clit over the fabric of your underwear,

“you’re so wet i can see it through your panties. who’s making you feel this good now baby?”

your stomach twists delightfully, “you.’

bada licks a strip up your clothed pussy,

“you can do better than that.”

you huff, “you, bada.”

she peels your underwear from your cunt, mouth hovering over where you need it most.

“again.”

“you- fuck,” bada presses a soft kiss to your now unclothed clit. you continue,

“you make me feel this good, bada. only you.”

bada looks up at you, eyes hooded and a lopsided grin on her face,

“good girl.”

her mouth covers your clit again, sucking and swirling her tongue around the bundle of nerves. your head shakes at the amount of stimulation you recieved so quickly. you’re moaning out, hands gripping bada’s hair tight, making her groan onto your pussy, feeling the vibrations from her mouth. she pulls away,

“you taste so fucking good. how dare you give this pussy away to someone else?”

she spits on it and licks a stripe up your slit, sucking on your clit and pulling away with a pop. her eyes pierce through your own as she looks up to you,

“never again.”

you nod and repeat her words, “never again.”

her thumb comes up to rub slow circles around your clit and her tongue darts in and out of your opening. you’ve had previous partners eat you out before, but bada was enthusiastic about it. she was moaning into your cunt like it was a delicacy only meant for her. her eyes squeezed shut everytime your hand grips her hair and you pushed her further against your pussy. your legs began to squeeze around her head and you swear to god you see her eyes roll to the back of her head. if nothing else, bada is a giver. you stop gripping her hair in favor of pushing her away from your cunt by her forehead. bada’s eyes flash up to yours and she is a sight to see.

her pupils are blown wide, she’s flushed from her cheeks down to her neck. her mouth is glistening in your wetness. she licks her lips,

“what is it baby?” she purrs.

you mumble but she can’t understand what you’re saying. your head is so jumbled with pleasure that you can barely form coherent sentences, but bada makes out a couple words.

per your blabbering request, she inserts two fingers into your pussy. your legs tense up and your hands fly to her hair again. she presses wet kisses along the inside of your thighs as she lets you get used to the feeling of her fingers inside you. once you’ve stopped clenching around her fingers and your legs relax, bada begins to pump them in and out of you in a slow pace.

“does it feel good?”

you nod, eyebrows creasing, “more. please.”

bada giggles, “always so polite.”

she curls her fingers inside of you, moving them at a quicker pace. you use the hands in her hair to push her face back into your cunt. she makes eye contact as she flicks her tongue back and forth against your sensitive, nearly overstimulated bundle of nerves.

this almost does it for you, your legs start to shake over bada’s shoulders, your bach arches, and you feel the beginnings of a knot forming in your stomach.

bada frees up her mouth, “are you gonna cum, pretty girl?”

you whimper out a quick yes and try to push her back to where she originally is but she tsks,

“say please.”

you nearly glare at her, but you were so close. you couldn’t argue at this point.

“please.”

bada ducks her head back down to your pussy but before she continues her assault on your cunt, she gives you the go ahead,

“that’s it. cum in my mouth. make a mess on me, please baby.”

her wish is granted as your toes curl and the knot in your stomach unravels. you feel nothing less than euphoric and bada is feeling just about the same. she’s groaining out as you clench around her fingers bullying the inside of your cunt. her mouth glued to your clit as she guides you through your orgasm. your legs are wrapped so tightly around her head that her ears ring, but she couldn’t be happier. she feels you relax before she hears you relax.

your legs stop shaking, you’re not clenching around her fingers as tightly, and the grip on her hair has loosened. however, you were still whimpering out as she pulled her fingers from inside of you. she stands back up and places her hand on the base of your neck. she makes you watch as she puts her fingers in her mouth, swirling her tongue around them. once she’s finished, she pulls them out and uses her thumb to open your mouth. she lets the mix of her spit and your wetness drip from her mouth into your own,

“swallow it.”

you do as your told.

“let me see.”

your mouth opens for her and her previously tense facial expression morph into something softer. admiration. she grins at you,

“i want you.”

you grin right back at her,

“i’m yours.”

#bada lee #bada lee x reader #bada lee smut #bada x reader #lee bada #lee bada x reader #swf 2 x reader #swf 2 #smut

[rucksackmentality]

List of the truths shared in Nana Morri's Honesty trial (C3E79):

Imogen: I am genuinely scared to meet my mom again.

Laudna: Deep down inside, both Delilah and I want the shard...Fearne should have it, but I don't know anymore what's my opinion or desires or feelings, or hers.

Imogen: I love Laudna deeply but I'm disgusted at the thought of Delilah looking at us all the time.

Orym: I'm super lonely all the time, especially at night. It doesn’t matter if I'm bunking with one of you guys.

FCG: Sometimes I pity some of you because you have beating hearts and opportunities and you don’t do enough with them...Chetney, you have so much love to give and it doesn't seem like you're interested in anything other than wood! There's people out there who you could love and experiences you could share with someone else, but all you care about is wood!

Orym: I've always kind of laughed it off but I guess I do kind of wonder if Chetney is my dad.

Ashton: I am the reason that the Jiana Hexum robbery went fucking wrong, and the reason why I got thrown out of a fucking window.

Fearne: I feel like we’re very ill-equipped for this job and we're going to fail at saving the world. (Laudna: Honestly that's probably true, I'm right there with you.)

Chetney: While wood may be the superior material to metal, I do fear that, with the dwindling interest in it, that children will find my toys - and thereby myself - obsolete every year I grow older.

FCG: I think it's something buried deep down in my circuitry, but every time I hurt or kill something - it feels really good. It makes me sort of relax a little bit and some of my stress goes away.

Imogen: I know we're supposed to save the gods, but I've tried talking to them my whole life and none of them would ever respond. I think I'm tainted. I dont know if I want to save gods that don't love me.

Laudna: You know we could rip-cord out of [saving the world] at any moment...right? And sometimes I fantasize about it all the time.

Fearne: I sometimes do stuff to you guys while you're sleeping - not weird stuff, I just like to look at you closely...and maybe like, twiddle your hair or braid it. Nothing bad!

Ashton: Whenever it starts to get quiet, I start worrying that one of us - most of us - are going to end up killing another one of us accidentally...I have panicked thinking about when one you kills another one of us.

Orym: I have all the faith in the world in you guys...and I have also spent time thinking of how to neutralize each of you.

FCG: I kinda worry that I put all my eggs in the Changebringer basket and she might betray us all. I had a really weird conversation with her and I think she's just out for herself and she might not really care about me - but what if she does? And I'm saying horrible things?

Imogen: Fearne, I was really disappointed in you for running away from your power. You should take the shard!

Orym: I really miss Dorian, and sometimes I think that's okay, and sometimes I think it isn't.

Ashton: I feel fucking worse that I just fucked up Fearne's life way more than mine and I should've died instead of that happening.

Chetney: I grew up in the Bramblewood outside of Westruun, and when I was a kid, I came back from learning how to make toys and found that my whole family had left. All they left behind were toys. They ran when Errevon the Rimelord was running across the plains, and so I'm kind of afraid of dragons. And I had five siblings - Alabaster, Pepper, Sugarplum, Hermey, and Chad - and I was so mad that they left I never looked for any of them, and now I'm pretty sure they're dead. So I think any family I have is just gonna look for a reason to leave me. That's why I don't get attached to anybody.

#critical role #cr spoilers #c3e79 #cr3

[princessbrunette]

omggg i adore kitty!reader so much shes so !! me !!! how do u think jayj would put her in her place … i feel like whenever shes having her mini tantrums people get equally as frustrated bc she gets feisty but jj has like .. magic on him or something 💭

"⭒˚｡⋆🍡⋆⭒˚｡"

you’d been in a bad mood since coming home from work. bartending wasn’t for the weak, especially when the locals constantly harassed you and berated your drink pouring skills — which was mostly put down to being a woman. by the time you get back to jj’s empty house, the blonde sat on his messy porch with a bottle of beer when you got back — you had quite the attitude.

“if it ain’t my favourite bartender. how’s m’girl, come over here.” he opens his arms and you storm right past making his brows shoot up, lips pressed together as he adjusts his cap. “alrighty, guess someone’s in a mood.” he pushes up onto his feet, swaggering in through the open door.

“‘somethin’ happen? what’s up?” he calls after you, spotting you in the kitchen angrily opening and closing cupboard doors as you try to make yourself something to eat.

“where is my plate?” you demand, clearly frustrated. he blinks, thinking back to your special plate that you always ate off. some cutesy antique thing you found at a yard sale, a beloved item of yours. he silently winces, eyeing it sat in the sink, soaking in bubbles.

“yeah uh, so basically i ate my lunch off it ‘cus i forgot to do the dishes, uh — again. that’s my bad. i got paper plates you can use? great thing about those is that when you’re done with ‘em you don’t gotta wash ‘em. you just throw ‘em away. makes me wonder why we even buy regular plates in the first pl—”

“no i don’t want a paper plate jj j want my plate! i just want to eat my food and— and you’re here just— just—” you explode, still refusing to offer him even a glance as you continue hunting for something to eat your leftovers off.

“hey, hey— put them claws away kittycat. no need for that. c’mon pretty girl where’s that smile?”

you spin around, fists balled at your side, tears of anger in your eyes.

“dont tell me to smile! go away!” you yell before turning away with a loud huff. jj drops his head down, tongue in his cheek as he nods, thinking for a moment before approaching slowly.

“easy, alright? you’re not gonna take that tone with me, mama i’m on your side.” as he speaks, you feel the warmth of his front press to your back, an arm cautiously sliding around your waist to keep you stable. his other arm snakes around your neck, pulling you into a light headlock, just enough pressure to ground you. he lowers his head to talk into your ear as you stare directly at the cabinet, already melting a little against him. “you wanna talk ‘bout your day? y’already know i’m all ears baby. but you gotta watch that attitude, yeah? you’re home now, i’m here. just… dial it back.”

there’s some silence, and you nod — releasing a shaky breath as you feel some of the grossness from your day leave your body. “uh-huh, that’s all you needed wasn’t it babydoll? needed to be told. that’s okay, i get it.” he kisses your temple before removing his arm from your neck, using both hands to squeeze your waist and turn you around.

the gaze he receives from you is nothing short of guilty, doll-like eyes blinking up at him slowly as you take deep breaths. “now what you’re gonna do, is sit that cute lil ass down and let me fix you up a plate. you’re gonna eat that shit, then, you’re gonna talk to me about your day,” he walks you backwards until your legs hit the chair at the table and you drop down to sit in it. he leans forward, hands cupping your cheeks. “and after that, oh i’mma fuck the shit out of you. like, you’re not even gonna remember what day of the week it is— let alone what shitty customers ran their mouth at you today. that sound good?”

“yes, jj.” you respond, pupils pretty much taking up your whole eye like an entertained kitten.

“thats what i like to hear, ma’am. alright, wait there. i got you.”

"⭒˚｡⋆🍡⋆⭒˚｡"

#anon #kitty!reader #jj maybank prompt

[plushish]

Adam with a reader who’s very witty and quick with comebacks?

just some silly pre-conference banter! | Adam x Reader

headcanon/drabble — how would Adam be like with a reader who is sharp-witted?

content & warnings — NSFW, fem reader, fem pronouns, fingering & cunnilingus, sexual act happening in a public place (workplace).

a/n — this takes place in some sort of office-setting, i dont know what goes on up there in heaven but i like to think its similar to what we've seen so far in hell, so i'm sure conferences aren't unheard of. i wasn't sure what format this idea should take, so it begins like a headcanon list but finishes up with a drabble. it's also rushed and i struggled with it a lot but. we ball!!!!!!

Adam considers himself to be a pretty funny guy, always dishing out 'sick burns' on others, but his pride gets hurt really easily. When it comes to a reader who can keep up with him in comebacks; he's definitely impressed by it, thinks it's hot as fuck, but he'd never openly admit it because it also a ignites a strong sense of competition in him.  

The tension between the two of you is uncomfortably palpable, how you twist him through every conversation and leave him to stammer like a fool just when he thinks he's bested you. Watching him seethe is endlessly entertaining to you, it brings you satisfaction, finding your own sense of pride in seeing that bad boy persona crack little by little.

The two of you will be going back-and-forth every time Sera calls for a conference, taking up half of the allotted time with your back-and-forths, and everyone graced with the luck to have been summoned there just wishes the two of you would fuck already so they didn't have to keep sitting through this.

But he secretly likes it, your flippancy towards his status and identity as First Man, how you're always so quick to shut down his sleazy remarks with an air of arrogance, going toe-to-toe with his own. Cute. 

Until one day, you finally give into him– He somehow manages to get you to fuck him, and for days after, his bragging around the office is incessant: "[Name] cries when she cums!", "Her orgasm face is just the cutest fuckin' thing, I mean could you imagine? Wait, actually don't, don't picture it–"

You start to get fed up, not only annoyed at his oversharing and his ceaseless bragging about things that simply weren't true, but because you hadn't even gotten to cum from the experience. Instead of confronting him, you had a plan in place that would get you what you wanted, so you instead opted to ignore the hushed whisperings around you all day.

...Until a little later, when you're in an empty conference room together, and he's sitting across the table from you. Licking the lid of his yogurt container with a smug look. Mimicking the disappointingly tepid treatment he'd given to you the night before.

"Should we... address what happened, [Name]?" He asks smugly, like it was a topic of business, leaning forward onto the table with his hands clasped together.

"No, I'm good." 

"Noooo?" Adam's voice is as sugary as the extra pumps of syrup he'd overloaded his coffee with this morning in the breakroom. You'd seen that diabetes-inducing horror as it happened. "Why not? I feel like it's something we should talk about."

"Why?" You ask simply. "It happened, and that's it."

That gets him a little annoyed. Confused, too; why weren't you playing along?

"Didn't mean a thing to you, then?"

"Nah."

"Oh please, [Name]," he scoffs. He’s getting offended at the thought now, his wings giving a small flap in indignance. He’s supposed to be the aloof one! You should be begging for it to happen again.

"Don't fuckin' play. My dick gave you the best fuck you've ever had and now you don’t know how to feel."

“The best? At putting me to sleep, maybe. I did get a good nap out of it afterward, so.”

To Adam, the only thing better than your negative attention is your positive attention, and the only thing worse than that is your indifference. He hates feeling desperate, but you bring him to that shameful peak.

“You were on my dick like you had a fuckin' crush,” Adam continues to ramble on, trying to find a weak spot. “Fucking me probably meant a lot to you, huh?” 

"I hump my pillow before bed and it means as much." 

"Your pillow can't plow you like I do."

"No, but at least it actually gets me to cum."

Adam’s dick twitches in his pants. You know exactly what you're doing. Those words, delivered with that cruel flippancy he loves and hates so much, are precisely tailored-- All to drive him over the edge. 

“Then maybe that was just a trial run,” He says after a long, fervent pause. "Maybe you need another taste."

You smirk a little, but only offer more disdain.

"No thanks, I've had enough to decide I'm no longer interested."

"Oh come on," He finally says. He's desperate at another chance now, he needs the validation of making you cum for his pride to be restored.

"Just give me one more shot?"

And so there you are, bottoms down, legs spread, Adam's fingers inside you, sitting on the edge of the table where a meeting is supposed to happen in about 25 minutes.

You're sopping wet. He drags a finger over your cunt before spreading it. "You're so cute, all blushing and shit. Makes me crazy hard."

"Your vocabulary is fucking terrible. Stop talking."

"You like it, though." He grins, teasingly lifting his fingers away from your aching cunt to show you your own wetness. You let out a small whine at the absence. "You sure you want me to stop?"

"Shut up, I said," You grab him by his hair and shove his mouth where you want it, aggressive and impatient. "-and start eating."

Normally Adam is not one to take demands like that. But in this position-- looking up at your stern face from between your legs--he obeys. He kisses at your cunt over and over, sweet little pecks like a first crush. The sensation makes your core tighten around nothing. Adam was not one to take his time; he was teasing you like this on purpose. You weren't having it.

And so pettily, you decide to say: "You can do better than that."

So naively, he does, he takes your dare and you're practically gushing all over the conference table by the time he gets in there and starts eating for real. Desperately suckling your clit between those smirking lips, that mouth that never fucking shuts up.

You cum with a satisfied sigh, as if you'd just had a good stretch rather than an orgasm on his face. He looks up at you expectantly, lips glistening with your aftertaste. Eyes wide and eager, waiting for the praise that is to come, only for you to lean in and whisper:

"Look who has a crush now."

a/n — pls forgive me for taking so long to answer this! i don't think it's exactly what you're looking for but i tried. it's more of an "adam with a reader who he has a sexually-charged, competitive work relationship with" type of deal. you just like to play with him and you know exactly how to make him desperate

#adam headcanons #hazbin hotel headcanons #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #adam x reader #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam smut

[sweetheart-satoru]

his eyes, breathtaking

you tried to ignore him and your feelings, but they were stubborn.

author's note: me cuz i promised part two in october and now it's here 🙈🙈 don't hate me at least it's here 💋 i love you silly billies 🫶🏽

part one here !!

"you two in a fight or somethin'?" shoko says, leaning back in her chair. satoru places his cheek in his palm, "dunno, she's definitely mad at me, though." suguru tilts his head, "how come?"

"i dont know, can you ask her about it?" shoko shrugs, "i'll ask her at break." satoru nods, "thanks." you and satoru sit behind shoko and suguru. two seats in each spot.

when you walk into class you just stare out the window until shoko makes small talk with you, hoping the awkwardness would pass. “y/n, your bracelet is pretty.”

“thank you!” you grin at her, mood changing instantly. “yeahh,” satoru agrees, and he frowns as he watches your grin turn neutral, “i like it too, by the way.” he coughs. “mhm.. thanks, gojo.” you went back to the last name basis, and his heart drops.

shoko gives him a look, pointing at his phone, telling him to text her. and he does, along does suguru.

shoko: shes def mad

satoru: thanks a lot, i didn’t notice 😐!!

suguru: why is she mad tho?? what did you do??

satoru: why are you guys blaming me?! i don’t know either.

you cough, “hey- uh, shoko.. i’m gonna go to the washroom, ‘kay? if the bell rings before im back i’ll meet you by the gates.” you tell her before walking out. “mhm, okay!” she calls out. and when you shut the door she immediately turns to satoru and suguru.

“suguru, did you hear that? earlier, she called satoru by his last name. something is totally wrong.” and suguru nods, agreeing. “well, satoru. you should go follow her. this is your chance. the bell will ring soon so it doesn’t matter how much time you take, go!”

satoru nods, “mhm, okay!” and then he rushes out of class, going to see if he can finally talk to you.

you splash cold water on your face. mumbling to yourself, "get your shit together, y/n." you weren't going to lie, on a hot day like this, the cold water felt nice. patting your cheeks, you stare into the mirror, feeling a little bit less disgusted with yourself.

"oh, hey! i don't look too ugly today!" you give yourself a half grin, taking out a tube of lipgloss and lip tint from your pocket. "i'll just fix this up.." you say to yourself quietly.

when you're done you fix your hair, "not too bad, y/n." you smile to yourself, quietly feeling good. you were right to tell shoko to leave class and not wait, you were taking too much time and the bell did ring.

you check your phone and see that she texted you.

shoko: me and suguru are headed to the convenience store, satoru also went to the washroom so you two can meet up with us together

you visibly frown, oh shit. okay, y/n. just play it cool. if you hurry up maybe you can rush to them and you won't need to see him. yeah, if you hurry up you can make it without it. or you can wait it out and hope he leaves without you.

feeling your stomach growl, you screw idea #2 and just speed walk out of the washroom, making a quick turn before in the corner of your eye you see satoru leaning on the wall with his arms crossed. he was looking down at his phone, but now that your in his eye line, he raises his brows.

"wow, you sure take your time. im telling shoko she can't blame me for being late as this time it was your fault." he walks up to you and boops your nose.

you push his hand away, scrunching your nose. "mhm," you nod, cursing yourself for being too late, "lets uh, just go." he shakes his head, "nope."

narrowing your eyes, "huh? nope?" he grabs your wrist, "yeah, nope." he repeats, bringing you closer to him, and he frowns when you pull back. "lets talk."

"talk? talk about what? can we just go? im hungry." you complain, trying to pull your arm out. before (pt 1), when he grabbed your wrist he only held it lightly, now he was gripping it like if he let go, you would disappear.

"you're," you grunt, "hurting me." quietly, he mumbles a quick apology, but never fully lets go, just loosening his hold. "are you mad at me? and be serious, i don't want any half assed answer. tell me what you're feeling." he frowns.

"im.. im not mad at you." you look down to your shoes, and it's true. you weren't mad at him. you were mad at how he made you feel. you hate having feelings, especially with someone you're close with. it always comes back to bite you back in the ass. "then what is it?"

you stay silent. "y/n i know it has to be something to do with me, every time you speak to someone else you're back to being yourself, but when it's me it's like you hate me." your eyes widen, "i don't hate you." you blurt, and he gives you a sad smile. "then what is it? did i make you sad?"

"yes, but no, but like yes maybe kinda no. yes as in yes it has something to do with you, but no nothing you did intentionally." he raises his brow at that, "then what did i 'yes but no like yes maybe kinda no' do to you to make you stop talking to me for seven days?" you watch the hurt and sadness swirl in his eyes, his beautiful, breathtaking eyes.

"it's.. complicated! i don't know how to explain, it's just complicated!" you crouch down, into a frog like position. and he mimics your frog pose, bringing his face closer to yours, trying to figure out what was wrong.

"it's just, all in my head! i don't.. know.." you mutter, trailing off. "what're you thinking in here," he mumbles, "what are you thinking in your pretty little head." he taps two fingers on your forehead, and all you can think about his making out with him until your lips are too kiss-swollen to be touched.

"..stuff." you whisper, burying your face inside your hands, trying to hide your face that's on the verge of exploding with embarrassment. "oh, i get it." his lips curve into a smirk. all sadness gone.

he chuckles, and his chuckles turn into loud laughter. and his loud laughing turns into full on cackling until he really, truly cannot breathe.

"what are you laughing at..." you feel your heart pounding. it feels like its about to burst and fall right in between you two. he's still laughing, trying to cover his mouth to try and stop it. he's laughing so hard you see tears fall out of his eyes. "i can't fucking breathe!" he gasps for air, still laughing.

"oh my god, you're in love with me!" your heart drops to your stomach, and he's still laughing. his eyes are squeezed shut, he's gripping onto his pants like his life depends on it because he seriously cannot breathe.

all this time, for seven days you've ignored talking to him and texting him back, not because you were mad at him but because you had fucking feelings for him! oh god, he should've put the pieces together!

every time you would smile to yourself if your fingers brushed together, how you would look sad when someone who go up to him and confess, how you would smile down at him with a certain time of warmth when he would tie your shoelaces for you, how you would hug him longer than nessasary when he would pay for you food

"god! it's impossible to talk to you!" you hiss, getting up to leave to god knows where. just as you're about to turn your heel, going to walk away, he grabs your wrist.

"satoru, let go, just leave me alo-" he cuts you off by placing his hands on your cheeks, and then you feel his soft lips on yours. your eyes widen as you feel him bringing you closer to him. squeezing your eyes shut, you try and keep up with his skilled lips. he just took your first kiss and you don't know what you're doing!

he breaks the kiss off and grins down at you. "was that your first kiss?" you just turn your head away, trying to hide your flustered face. "you suck." he snickers, teasing you.

you frown, "shut up! you just caught me off guard, that's all! and if you must know i have kissed many people!" you were straight up lying through your teeth and he smirks, knowing.

"prove it. kiss me again. show me you're experienced." he leans against the wall, eyeing you like a hawk. "no. let's go to shoko and suguru, im hungry!" it wasn't like you were lying now, it's true. you were starved. "no?" he questions, cocking his head to the side. "no." you repeat, "now lets go." you try and drag his arm. he just chuckles and follows you.

he intertwines your fingers together, holding you close to him. he watches you from the corner of his eyes as you randomly look at both of your hands, and then turn away smiling. he also turns his head away to smile. a faint blush rested on his cheeks before he stops you both.

he lets go of your hand before using it to turn your head to him to place a small kiss on your lips again. when you pull back, "you still suck." he leans in to kiss you again but you just shove him. "ugh shut up!"

you speed walk ahead of him, "you're the one who sucks!" he just laughs, "don't leave me behinddddd!!" to which the response he got back was getting flipped off.

as you keep walking ahead, even though he could easily catch up with his lanky long legs, he just runs and jumps on your back, yelling out, "piggy back ride!"

you stumble forwards, holding onto his legs making sure he doesn't fall over, "you idiot, we could've fallen!" you laugh, and he just wraps his arms around you, careful as not to choke you, and kisses your head, "but you love me so even if we fell you'll forgive me."

"yeah, yeah, whatever." you grumble, adjusting him on your back. and he grins, snuggling his face into your neck, loving the sweet smell of (whatever you smell like that's good) and shutting his eyes.

"i love you too." and he can basically feel the grin stretched onto your face.

i accidentally deleted most of the work so now it's not even good :( it literally looks like i shat in my hand, gave it to you and called it writing.. the first version was so much better 🤐

anyways tags for the lovelies that have been waiting months of this <3 @ari-hatake15 @chuuberrysworld @solialuna @kazuahhh @voidsatoru <3 @loquia @mykyoon @i-be-teff @arminsgfloll @4evahevah @the-devilskid @ys2800 sorry if i didn't tag you some of them aren't showing up :(

#gojo satoru #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojo angst #gojo fluff #gojo headcanons #gojo imagine #gojo imagines #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru imagines #gojo satoru x you #gojo saturo #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #jujutsu kaisen gojo #satoru

[lustfulslxt]

ok, hear me out. so reader decides to try out the red nail theory and shows them to matt, and he freaking adores them, but adores the marks they leave on his back even more😏😏idk if you dont wanna thats completely fine, but i just got red nails for the holidays and all i can think about is scratching up matts back...

Say Thanks - Matt Sturniolo

warnings : smut, filthy matthew

—

It’s been a while since I’ve gotten my nails done, and I so badly want to go get them done right now. However, bills exist and with my roommate moving out, everything’s been piled on top of me all at once. It’s stressful to say the least, but I just need to find my footing. It’s not that I can’t afford it, I just have a really bad spending habit, that I didn’t realize is an actual issue until a couple of weeks ago. I used to just work, pay my portion of the bills, save a bit of money, then blow the rest of it on whatever I wanted. Now, I just have to learn to budget.

Saying that, I’ve not really been going out of my way to splurge on things that make me feel good. I’ll get back to eventually, but unfortunately, I can’t afford to right now.

Despite knowing that I should focus on getting my money right, I can’t help but look into my spare cash, crossing my fingers in hopes that I have enough. Before I can even begin counting, my phone flashes and vibrates, indicating I have a new notification.

Matt sent you $100 for your nails❣️.

My eyes widen, a gasp leaving my mouth as I read the words displayed on the screen. Immediately, I’m facetiming Matt.

“Hey.” He answers, instantly, a knowing grin on his lips.

“Don’t ‘hey’ me mister. Why did you just send me money?” I question, glaring at him through the screen.

“Hmm. I’m pretty sure I said it’s for your nails.” He answers, then continues, “You can say you don’t need it all you want, but I know how bad you’ve been wanting to get them done. And if you haven’t, then you just can’t right now. Which is why I wanna do it for you.”

“Matt-“

He cuts me off, “Y/N, shut up and accept my offering. Come over after you get them done?”

“Fine.” I sigh, giving in.

“Great, I can’t wait to see them. Maybe then you can show me just how thankful you are.” He suggests, his lips wide with a smirk.

My jaw drops at his proposal, completely bewildered at his comment, the underlying meaning far from missed. I can’t help but bite my lip as I look away from the screen, my skin ultimately flushing.

“I already scheduled your appointment with Analysse. She’ll be there in fifteen. I expect to see you no later than an hour and a half.” He informs me.

“Yes sir.” I say, unable to prevent the smile that pulls itself to my lips. “Thanks, Matty.”

“Of course, doll. I’ll see you soon.”

With that, we hang up and I’m left to sit in my puddle of confusion and eagerness. Matt and I are only friends. There’s always times where we’re flirty and we’ve always been close, physical touch being our love language. However, his actions and statements today threw me for a loop. I’m sure I’m not misinterpreting it, he seemed very suggestive. Honestly, I don’t even mind that, I just don’t know if he’s only messing with me or if he’s serious. I guess I’ll find out soon enough.

“Hey babe, how are you doing?” Analysse greets me, unpacking her supplies.

“I’ve been good, just learning to adjust to new things. How have you been? I feel like it’s been ages since I last seen you.” I reply, sitting on the opposite side of the desk.

“I know! It’s been so long! I’ve been great though. Just living life and doing what I love.” She nods, a smile blossoming on her face.

“That’s amazing, I’m glad to hear.”

“Thank you. So, what are we thinking?” She asks me, all her supplies laid out in front of us.

“Probably just a simple red, maybe like medium length. Hm, not too long but long enough to leave marks.” I explain, smirking at the thought of digging my nails into Matt’s back.

“Ouu, okay.” She giggles, grabbing my hands to prep my nails. “So, are we talking about Matt? I mean, he is the one that reached out to me to book this appointment for you.”

I can’t help the warmth that rushes to my cheeks, “Yeah, I’ve been wanting to get my nails done again. Life just hasn’t been working in my favor.” She nods in understandment, listening to me rant. “Let’s just say, he’s got me thinking about a lot.”

Her mouth opens, laughter pouring out of it, “Oh, I get you. We’ve all had one of those.”

We continue talking and sharing stories as she does my nails. The conversation goes from boys, to makeup, to careers, to food, and just about everything under the sun. Once she’s done, I pay and tip her, and bid her on her way.

Since I still have some time before I have to be over at Matt’s, I decide to take a shower to freshen up. Seeing as I really only had around an extra thirty minutes, I decide to make it quick. I swiftly wash up and rinse off, hurrying out to dry off and get dressed. After applying deodorant and lotion, I slip on my shoes and grab my phone and keys, then I’m out the door.

It only takes me eight minutes to get to Matt’s house, so when I arrive, I’m eagerly making my way inside. We’ve been friends for eons, hence why I have my own key. Upon walking in, I instantly make my way upstairs and head back to his room. As soon as I open his door, his attention is on me.

“You’re late.” He states, his voice stern.

“Only by four minutes.” I shrug, joining him on his bed.

“Four minutes is still late.” He points out, raising an eyebrow at me.

“Won’t happen again, I promise.” I grin, tossing my hands up in defense.

He doesn’t say anything, only smirks as he grabs my hands to observe the nails he paid for. He plays with my fingers, looking at each individual nail, as if inspecting to see if there were any flaws. They were perfect.

“I love them, they look good.” He tells me, his voice now husky.

I look from my hands to his face, his eyes already being on me. His hands never leave my own, his warm fingers brushing back and forth over mine. The intensity of his stare has me clenching my thighs together in need. I don’t knew where this is coming from, but I want him bad.

“They’d look even better wrapped around my cock.” He whispers, his voice deep and raspy, placing one of my hands on his lap.

Only then, did I notice the growing bulge beneath his pants. His cargos now restricting his hard on, keeping it caged in below the fabric. I could feel him pulsating through the clothing, his erection rock solid. My mouth opened and close, suddenly unable to find words to speak.

“Don’t you want to show me how grateful you are?” He taunts, his gaze unwavering.

“Did you have a favor in mind?” I ask, licking my lips as I attempt to swallow in hopes of lubricating my now dry throat.

“Mhm.” He hums, standing up from the bed. He stands directly in front of me, his hands slowly working his belt off. “I want your pretty little mouth around my cock.”

I could feel my underwear becoming more and more soaked, my arousal seeping out of my pussy, completely and utterly turned on. His hand reaches my chin, gripping my jaw as he pulls me up from the bed, before dropping me to my knees. His thumb rubs against my lips before forcing itself in my mouth. I suck on it, my mouth immediately salivating from this situation I find myself in. He removes his thumb, dragging it down my bottom lip, letting it bounce back up as he moves to remove his shirt. I watch in awe, his lean torso flexing with every movement. Next, he unbuttons his pants. Once he pulls them and his boxers down, his dick slaps up, bouncing off of his lower abdomen. I’ve never been this intimate with Matt, meaning I’ve never seen his dick before, and boy was it something.

“Like what you see, pretty girl?” He teases, his hand engulfing his shaft and jerking it a couple of times. “Get over here and make me feel good until I say you can stop.”

I can’t help but frantically nod, instinctively scooting closer to him, eager to take his member into my mouth. One of his hands goes around my head, entangling in my hair, while the other one takes his dick and slaps it onto my lips, leaving drops of his precum behind. My tongue immediately flicks over my lips, taking the traces of him into my mouth, leaving him to toss his head back as a groan leaves his throat.

“Open.” He states, his hand pulling my jaw down.

As soon as my lips are parted wide enough, he’s shoving his entire length down my throat, pulling a gag from me. From his rough thrusts, my mouth is producing enough saliva to coat his dick, strings of spit connecting him to me once he pulls out. He then sets his tip on my lips, nodding at me to get to work, so I do.

My tongue swirls around his head, licking over his slit, causing him to tighten his grip in my hair and involuntarily buck his hips, his dick prodding at my mouth from the movement. I wrap my lips around him once more, my tongue continuously twirling around him, before taking as much as I could of him into my mouth, using my hands on the rest of him that wouldn’t fit. Peering up at him through my eyelashes, I see his brows furrowed in pleasure, his bottom lip held between his teeth.

“Fuck. You’re so pretty, doll.” He moans, running a hand across my cheek. “Sucking me so good, baby.”

I hum around his length, accepting his praise. Throaty moans continue to escape his mouth, encouraging me more as the desire in me burns hotter. I pull away from him completely, then take all of him in my mouth, deep throating him as much as I can without dying. His free hand wraps around my throat, making the feeling of his dick going down my throat all the more noticeable. He starts thrusting, matching my speed, his hips now sputtering as more lewd sounds come from his mouth.

He quickly pulls away, tugging me back by his grip on my hair. “Strip.”

I eagerly obliged, nerves building in my stomach, anticipating what’s to come. It didn’t take long for me to remove my outer clothing, leaving me in my bra and panties as his hungry eyes bore into me.

“Strip.” He repeats, his tone more demanding.

Without breaking eye contact, I reach back and unclasp my bra, letting it fall down my arms before falling to the floor with other clothes. The cool air hit my nipples, the buds hardening in response. I watch as Matt’s eyes follow my every move, soaking in every gesture. My fingers slip in the waistband of my panties, slowly tugging them downwards as I continue shimmying out of them, kicking them off my feet. Matt’s hand is now around his cock, stroking it as he watches me, intently.

“My turn.” He whispers, pulling me against him, skin to skin.

His mouth meets mine in a hot kiss, excitement bubbling between us. He walks me a few steps backwards, pushing me back on his bed and climbing on top of me. Our lips lap one another’s, before he’s shoving his tongue in my mouth, exploring behind my lips. We move together in such a hot and steamy way, his hands touching every part of me as my hands lace through his hair. His mouth then moves down my jaw, dragging open mouth kisses across my skin, leaving a trail saliva in his wake. My breathing was heavy, small whimpers coming through as he sucks and nibbles my sweet spot.

His hands then intertwine with mine, bringing my fingertips to his lips, pressing soft kisses against them. “I can’t wait to see the damage you do with these.”

He starts kissing down my chest, keeping his hands interlocked with mine. His mouth nips and bites at my skin, goosebumps spreading over me. He takes my nipple into his mouth, twirling his tongue around it, his teeth grazing over it, causing a sharp gasp like moan to come from my mouth. He moves on to the next one, repeating the same action. My legs squeeze shut, attempting to relieve the tension that keeps building and building with every little thing.

“Matt, please.” I whisper, attempting to grind against him for friction, to which he only presses his hands onto my hips to hold me in place.

“Shh, baby.” He mutters against my skin, lowering himself to my navel, his tongue leaving a stripe of spit.

His mouth meets my thighs, going back and forth between the two, peppering wet kisses all over them. His half lidded eyes meet mine, a smirk making its way to his face as he blew air onto my center, causing me to thrash beneath him. Instantly, his tongue is between my folds, pulling a loud moan from me as my hands return to his hair, tugging ever so slightly. He licks up and down my core, sucking all of my juices along the way. His tongue prods at my entrance, poking in and out, before he goes back up and wraps his lips around my clit.

“F-fuck, feels so good, Matty.” I whimper, thrusting my hips up for more.

His hands press down on my hips again, his grip now tight, holding me in place. His mouth continues lapping me, his tongue flicking every which way, bringing me closer to the edge. One of his hands leave my waist, his fingers meeting my heat. He slides them up and down, lubricating them before pressing two of them into my entrance. A loud moan falls from my mouth, my body jerking as he begins fucking me with his fingers. His mouth focuses on my clit, sucking with his warm tongue continuously flicking over it. His fingers pumping in and out of me, my arousal evident from the sounds emitting from my core and my mouth.

“I’m so close.” I moan out, pushing down into him.

Unfortunately, he pulls away, completely removing himself from me, a whine of desperation coming from my lips. He hovers back over me, his mouth pressing onto mine, my juices traveling from his mouth to mine as he kisses me hard.

“We’re gonna cum together, princess.” He says, one of his hands holding himself up as his other one rubs his dick up and down my folds.

I can’t help the gentle shaking of my thighs, my hole clenching around nothing as my eyes beg him to fuck me. Without words, he grants my wishes, slowly sinking his cock into me. Low moans escape both of our mouths as he bottoms out, my eyes closing in pleasure as he tosses his head back one again. My arms wrap around him, pulling him closer to me.

“I just knew you’d feel so good, baby.” He groans, his thrusts slow, yet hard. “So wet and warm, and tight around my cock.”

His thrusts remain slow, but not too slow, as he continues digging into me, hitting exactly where I need him.

“Oh, Matt.” I moan out, my face contorting in pure bliss as I drag my hands down his back.

He lets out more groans, enjoying everything about this moment. Instantly, I could feel the knot forming in the pit of my stomach, close to snapping from the building pressure. He picks up his pace, increasing the strength of his thrusts. His hand meets my center once again, rubbing tight circles onto my clit, ripping another moan from me.

“You look like a dream.” He moans out, his eyes never leaving mine. “I can see your close, baby.”

Words stuck in my throat, I’m left nodding my head, nothing but incoherent sounds coming from my mouth as I dig my nails into his back. His lips slam onto mine, bringing me into a passionate kiss, swallowing every noise that emits from me. His tongue roams my mouth again, quickly and eagerly, as if he can’t get enough. As he pulls away, he drags my bottom lip out in between his teeth.

“Cum with me, doll.” He groans, his finger on my clit applying more pressure.

And just like that, the knot snapped, unraveling, and I was letting go all over him, eliciting pornographic moans from my mouth. He followed seconds after, his dick twitching inside of me as his load spurts out. He continues pumping, fucking both of us through our orgasms, pushing our cum deeper into me with every thrust. Stilling for just a moment, he then slowly pulls out and lies beside me, both of our breaths erratic from the exertion.

“If this is what I get as a thank you, I’ll gladly pay for your nails every single time.” He chuckles, grinning over at me.

I laugh, rolling my eyes at him, pushing him away. He smirks, before starting to put his clothes back on, so that he could start us a shower. As soon as I catch glimpse of his back, a gasp leaves my mouth, causing him to turn around with raised eyebrows.

“What?” He asks, expectantly.

“Your back is fucked.” I laugh, covering my mouth, grabbing his phone from the nightstand.

I motion for him to turn around so that I can take a picture. Once I do, he grabs his phone from me and smirks at the picture, pleased with the aftermath of our moment together. He does some typing on his phone before tossing it back down and leaving the room. I pick his phone back up and see that he made a new post on snapchat.

After clicking on it, my mouth dropped, “Matt!”

—

a/n : here ya go! sorry for the delay, i’ve been lacking inspiration and motivation. i hope you enjoy it, and apologies if this isn’t what you had in mind. send in more reqs pls, love you 🫶🏼

#lustfulslxt #joss speaks #sturniolo triplets #sturniolos #the sturniolos #imagine #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x me #matthew sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #requests open #request #smut #red nail theory

[cranberrv]

thunder

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ in which dallas winston loses his temper

( a/n : HIII im sorry if this wasnt ur vision but i dont think dallas is one for big apologies so i kinda focused on the arguement more than the apology hope that’s ok… also toxic dallas alert sorry if that isnt ur scene!! also not proofread but hope u cuties enjoy )

it was a late night in mid-summer, and you and dallas were on the porch on the curtis brothers house. he wanted to go out for a smoke, and dragged you along. you were wearing his leather jacket, it was a windy night and you were getting chilly. dallas had goosebumps along his arms.

“are you sure you don’t want it back, dal?” you ask him, insisting on giving him his jacket back.

“nah, sugar, don’t want ya freezin’ to death out here,” he answers, taking a drag of his cigarette as he looks out at the empty street.

“i’ll just go inside, though, so you don’t get hypothermia or something..” you insist, but he grabs your hand and stops you.

“you’re fine, baby, stay with me.” you look up at him and nod, squeezing his hand a bit tighter.

you stand outside for a little while longer. it feels so peaceful standing there with him. his hand that’s rough and dangerous from the punches it throws is enveloping yours in a sweet gentleness shown only with you. his cigarette smoke becoming a mock mist that calms you both down. his deep breathes that are only heard because of how quiet it is.

nothing could ruin this moment.

you felt it was a good time to say the three words. not like you hadn’t said them before — it’s been a year since you’ve started dating, and you’ve both adored each other from the very start. but dallas got funny when you told him what he already knew. tonight would be different, you thought.

“.. i love ya, dal,” you say softly after a few moments of quiet. it felt casual — exactly what he would have wanted. but maybe not casual enough, because there was a short silence following your words.

eventually, he speaks. “i know ya do, sugar.”

you sigh. why is it that he could never stand to say it back?

he catches your sigh. of course he knows what you’re sighing about — he knows you all too well. he chooses not to act on it, not to apologize, not to say anything. he doesn’t want to fight with you. he just takes a drag of his cigarette and plays innocent.

“it would be nice to know that you loved me too, dallas,” you eventually say.

“oh c’mon,” another drag of his cigarette. “you ain’t an idiot, you know i do.”

“do i? i can’t remember one time you’ve said ‘i love you’ to me,” you cross your arms and look up at him.

“this isn’t somethin’ to get pressed on, y/n, the boys are inside and the windows are open,” he puts a hand on your shoulder, trying to get you to stop talking, to pretend like you’re okay. all because he doesn’t want his friends to hear. “and i have said it, baby, you’re just forgetting or somethin’.”

“you have not, i would remember if you have,” you counter, shoving his hand off of you. “i don’t want to argue, dallas, i really don’t—“

“too damn bad, y/n, because you’re sayin’ that i don’t love you, and we both know that ain’t true,”

“then say it.”

“..what?”

“you heard me,” you say. “it has been a whole year of us dating, and you’re never ready to say that you love me,” you raise your voice to get your point across.

“christ, y/n, you’re difficult, huh?” he groans. “it ain’t a big deal, don’t go throwing a tantrum.”

“i’m difficult? dallas, i don’t know if you get how a relationship works, but at this point, you either love me, or you’re done with me. there is no middle ground after this long together.”

“you’re fuckin’ crazy, i know how a relationship works, and i ain’t done with you. don’t go stickin’ words in my mouth,” his voice is raising, too.

“if you’re not done with me, then you love me.” you say, in a desperate attempt to get him to say the three words. you almost want to beg. “it hurts, dallas, that i don’t get that reassurance, that i leave our dates with my words hanging in the air, waiting for a reply,”

he groans. “you know that i do, so what’s the fuckin’ point?”

“you’re unbelievable.”

he scoffs, his voice raising. not quite yelling, but definitely not talking. “holy fuck, you know that i love you, man, so quit bein’ such a bitch!”

the crease in your eyebrow drops as he says that. “don’t call me that,”

“c’mon, man, you’re acting like a fuckin’ lunatic trying to get me to admit somethin’ that i’ve already admitted,” he says, voice still raised. “take a deep breath, maybe get a glass of water, and come back to me once you’re normal again.”

you scoff. “because i’m expressing my feelings, suddenly i’m a lunatic? because i’m not like your old girls, and i actually strive for a healthy relationship, i’m not normal?”

“you’re freakin’ out because i didn’t say it back once, of course i think you’re going crazy.”

“i’m ‘freaking out’ because it’s been a year of ‘thank you’ and ‘i know’ whenever i tell you i love you,”

“you’re being a dumbass, y/n, you know i—“ he cuts himself off, sighing and taking a step back. “fine, man, whatever, you win. go inside and call bucks when you’ve cooled off, i’m goin’ home,”

when he walks past you, the air is thick and unwelcoming. you don’t even bother getting the last word, dreading the fact that he might turn back and lose his shit if you do. he mutters something incoherent under his breath, and walks down the creeky front porch steps, into the dead of night.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

of course, you don’t call bucks. why would you? just so buck can tell you that dallas isn’t there, when in reality he just doesn’t want to talk to you? just so suddenly you’re bending to his will, and he’s getting his way once again? you don’t think so.

dallas does this a lot — whenver you two fight, even if it’s a small one, he needs time to cool off. sometimes it’s a couple hours, sometimes it’s a day. it’s never stretched longer, until now. it’s been three torturous days of waiting for a grand gesture, an apology, anything.

the next day at school, you’re walking through the parking lot during your lunch break, talking to cherry valance and marcia about what happened between you and dallas. they say a lot of “told you so” and “that’s dallas for you”, and you can’t say they’re wrong. they warned you about him, and his reputation for being so short-tempered and stubborn.

the sound of an engine roars behind you, and you and your friends turn your heads to see who is making the noise. it’s a 1957 red thunderbird, you recognize it as buck merrill’s.

“that must be dal’s friend, buck,” you whisper to your friends. “but why would buck be here?”

“he’s a greaser, he’s probably like, 5 grades behind and coming here begging for another shot at graduation,” randy, marcia’s boyfriend, teases. you shoot him a glare, and he shuts up.

“i’ll go see whats up,” you say softly, walking over to the now-parked car.

as you walk over and the window rolls down. it is not buck merrill, like you expected, but it’s dallas winston.

“hi,” you say softly, your walls starting to go up but hesitating, wondering if you’re even still fighting.

“hey, sweetie,” he says, not explaining what he’s doing here.

“what’re doing?” you ask him.

he shrugs. “wanted to see you, i dunno.”

“oh,” you say softly. you hoped for an apology, you hoped for flowers, you hoped for chocolate, you hoped for a hug, you hoped for—

“i shouldn’t of gotten all heated when we talked, it wasn’t cool,” he says, interrupting your thoughts. “and you ain’t a bitch.”

“..thanks.” you say after a few seconds of silence. what a shit apology, you think.

he’s staring out into the parking lot instead of you. “and i’m crazy about you, man,” he looks up at you. “you gotta know that, sugar.”

“thank you,” you repeat again, unsure of what to say.

another beat of silence as he swallows in his throat, before speaking and finally looking over at you. “i love ya, doll,”

you should’ve stayed mad, you should’ve not accepted his awful apology, but you cannot hide the smile tugging at your lips. this is all you’ve asked for from him, and he finally has the courage to admit it.

“i love you too, dallas.” you say softly, leaning into the window and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “thank you,”

“you gotta stop sayin’ that, y/n,” he teases, playfully pushing you away. “go hang out with your stupid friends, man. i’ll come over tonight and hang.”

you nod, and walk away, looking back at him and seeing a small smile on his face. nothing could ruin this moment.

#🎀 announcements #the outsiders #dallas winston #dally winston #dallas #dallas winston imagine #dallas winston headcanons #dallas winston fluff #dallas winston x reader #dally winston fluff #dallas winston fanfic #the outsiders dally #dally imagine #dallas winston x y/n #dallas winston x you #dallas winston angst

[sohnric]

to. my first – k. sunwoo

pairing: kim sunwoo x fem! reader

genre: 90s au. twenty-five twenty-one au, friends to lovers au, exes to lovers au. fluff, slice of life, coming of age, suggestive. highschool au, football player! sunwoo, baker! sunwoo. cheerleader! reader. first love au. what we call wet cat sunwoo. meeting your ex after years and falling back in love with him kind of thing.

warnings: alcohol, throwing up, swearing, reader has hair long enough for a ponytail, a heated make out session or two that alludes to them having sex but no actual smut happens, finger sucking, the reader moping around a lot, no plot just vibes.

word count: 31k

a/n: inspired by me telling @/csenke that sunwoo is my first love. why am i so soft for this man i truly dont know... thank you best friend for betaing this monster i appreciate it a LOT! also thank you to sana @/heemingyu and izzy @/from-izzy for the help on some parts of the fic and brainstorming the ending w me, as well as beta reading small parts of this.

spin-off to my fic millennium bug because sunwoo deserves love too! the reader from eric's fic is referenced to as MB!Y/N in this. you don't have to read the first fic to understand this one, but there are a lot of references in this and i highly encourage you to do so!

they say you never forget about your first love. you guess that's true. (or– a story about reckless love, first kisses, growing up, ambition, and inevitably, failure.)

August 2007

The laughter all around is electric. The music playing in the background makes you sway and hum to the melody, the familiar tunes making your insides light up with a different sense of nostalgia when you remember the times in which these songs were popular. Your tired limbs make you cut your way through the room and sit down on a vacant chair, not really caring about where your designated seat was anymore, just needing to rest for a second before you either throw up from exhaustion or faint from how tired your legs are from all the dancing. Paying a quick goodbye to Juyeon on the dance floor, you heave out a satisfied sigh when your bottom meets the cushioned seat of the chair, eyes zeroing on the filled dance floor.

Feeling a cramp in your foot, you scowl and lean down, ready to do the thing you’ve been desiring for at least the last three hours– if not the whole day. Hands playing with the strap on your heel, you make the shoe come undone before you slip the uncomfortable footwear off your feet, relaxing when your naked limbs meet with the cold tile on the floor. 

You don’t really know who in their right mind would have a wedding in the middle of the summer heat, but you guess there are people that are out of their mind like that– and those people are your friends from high school. 

Everything about coming back to your hometown has made you feel unpleasantly nostalgic so far– the streets haven’t changed a bit, your childhood home still looks just the same, furniture unmoved, and the air is still as crisp, yet humid as it always was during late August. It’s only tonight that finally makes the weird bittersweetness turn into joy. You’re back home with everyone you’ve ever known, with everyone who’s made you into who you are today. You’re seeing all their faces for the first time in ages– and frankly, it does feel good. 

The satisfaction in your veins stays for a bit until a figure dressed in a suit comes into your point of view. It’s not like you’re seeing him for the first time tonight– he’s a big character, even when it comes to this wedding, so it’s hard to not notice him– but as his legs take him towards you in a wobbly nature, it dawns on you that now is maybe finally the time you get to talk to him. Don’t get me wrong– there are no hard feelings between the two of you (or at least you don’t have any, you’re not so sure about his side of the story). It’s just that seeing him dressed in a tux, tie now a little loose around his neck, the twinkle in his eye still present as back when you were both a lot younger, there’s still a strong aftertaste of your feelings towards him somewhere on the tip of your tongue. 

His walk is a little lopsided as he grins at you and takes a seat on the vacant chair next to yours, a huff of air escaping his lungs as his body relaxes, limbs falling freely down the sides of his chair. His cheeks are a little red and his hair a little messy– there’s only so much to explain his composure apart from all the dancing he’s done.

“So I see that you still can’t handle your liquor well even after all those years?” you joke, making the boy turn his head to face you, an amused twinkle appearing in his smile. 

His eyes are still the same chocolate orbs you know, still the same soft look adorning them whenever he feels particularly ecstatic. He shrugs, jolting his bottom lip out before he sighs to himself. “Well, it’s not every day you are the best man at your best friend’s and your sister’s wedding,” he muses, shrugging. 

Laughing at his remark, once again taking in the state of the room– Juyeon, Hyunjae and Haknyeon each dancing somewhere in the middle of the dance floor, MB!Y/N’s friends from university twirling her around in the right corner, Eric staring at the bride with a warm gaze in his eyes, sipping on a drink while resting against one of the tables, clearly taking a mental image to look at every time he feels the need to– it all feels kind of surreal. Who would’ve thought all those years ago that it would end like this?

Well, Eric Sohn, for starters. He confessed to everyone in his wedding speech that he knew he wanted to marry MB!Y/N the moment she kissed him on New Year’s Eve of 1999– him being this cheesy was only acceptable because it was his own wedding. In any other circumstance, Sunwoo wouldn’t be able to let his best friend live this down.

It’s not like you ever expected those two to break up– it just makes you a little in awe at how fast time is passing. “It’s kinda crazy, isn’t it?” you hum, squinting at the flood of people on the dance floor.

“It is,” Sunwoo hums, tonguing the inside of his cheek, “still can’t believe they’re dating. Hell, they’re getting married right now…” 

“You can’t believe your sister is dating your best friend?” you laugh, wiping the sweat that’s accumulated off your forehead, the mist appearing there both because of your reckless dancing and because of the unbearable heat of the August night.

“That, and also the other way around,” he hisses, “but I guess they’re both so insufferable that they go well together, so I don’t know why I’m still so surprised.”

Chuckling at his comment– you guess the bond he has with his sister is never to be changed, no matter how many years have passed– you watch as he shrugs off his suit jacket and throws it over the back of his chair, starting to roll up his sleeves to expose his forearms. Eyes following his motions, you clear your throat and force yourself to look back into his eyes when he asks you a question. “What about you, though? Are you enjoying yourself?”

“I am,” you nod, no hesitation, “it’s really nice to see all of you after so long. Plus, I’m having a lot of fun, so that’s a nice bonus." 

“I can see that,” he grins, “by the way you sat on my seat just now, and all–” 

“Oh god– I’m sorry,” you gasp, suddenly feeling a little silly. And here you thought he went up to you because he wanted to catch up… “I’ll move, if–”

The sound of Sunwoo’s hearty laugh lands into your ear– it’s just the same as it was back when you were both high schoolers, making your heart soar– before he shakes his head and urges you to stay with a motion of his hand, putting his large palm on your thigh to keep you from moving. “No, no, don’t be stupid,” he says, “I don’t mind. I was looking for you anyway, so you just made it easier for me by sitting here, actually.”

He was looking for you, resonates in your head, the familiar buzzing in your fingertips alerting you of the effect he has on you even tonight. God, maybe you were the one that had too much to drink…

“You were?” you ask, tone of voice light– not at all suspicious. 

Sunwoo nods, shrugging. “Well, I guess we have a lot of catching up to do,” he smiles, “don’t we?” 

Eyes meeting his, the contact feels electrifying to the point it makes your head spin when you look at him, taking in his glossy eyes and the flush of his cheeks. They’re less round than when you two were young, but his eyes still stay the same– big, round and tender.

He reminds you a lot of the time when you saw him drunk for the first time.

to. my first time getting drunk

April 1999

Havoc rings in his ears like jingle bells, the world around him spinning like he’s on a rollercoaster. His head feels like someone is installing a nail to the middle of his skull and when he looks around, Lee Donghyuck is staring at him with a glass bottle of soju in his hand, urging him to drink more.

Sunwoo doesn’t have it in him to do much else other than shake his head. It feels like he forgot all his vocabulary, not a single word coming out of his mouth or to the awake parts of his brain, watery eyes begging his classmate to not make him drink any more. 

What seemed like a good idea just a few moments ago– see, it’s prohibited to drink on school trips, but Kim Sunwoo is infamous for loving to break the rules– now seems like the worst idea of his whole entire life. He feels so sick he thinks he’s going to die of alcohol poisoning, but the laughter around keeps painfully reminding him that he hasn’t even had that much to drink in the first place. The amount of times he’s been called a lightweight this night is making his pride severely hurt, and even graciously intoxicated, he can’t bear the sting this is putting on his already hurt ego. 

“Come on, birthday boy! I’m sure you can handle one more,” Donghyuck urges, uncurling Sunwoo’s fist and placing the bottle into his grasp, making the poor boy wince and battle back tears. 

He knows he’s being embarrassing. The choice between not dying and not humiliating himself is rather a difficult one, but the moment he finally finishes the crossword puzzle in his brain and puts the glass opening against his lips, the bottle is thankfully taken out of his grasp and discarded somewhere where his eyes can’t reach.

“You’re done for the night, Kim Sunwoo,” you haul at him, shaking your head at the poor boy, “you’re done.”

Sunwoo wants to open his mouth and protest, maybe ask you what you mean, but the moment his lips unseal, he gets a sniff of the alcohol in the air and suddenly, he feels like throwing up. Your eyes lock with his, a pleading– maybe a warning– mirrors in Sunwoo’s gaze, and even though he’s so drunk he feels like he crossed dimensions, he applauds your ability to know just what he means by a single look into his eyes.

“Oh, Christ–” you curse, hurried steps moving to the corner of the room, swiftly grabbing the trash can and running back towards your friend sitting criss-cross applesauce on the floor. 

You make it just in time to catch the contains of Sunwoo’s stomach into the trash can, making the boy insanely grateful– he’s wearing the new shoes his mum got him for his birthday, and god knows he’d hate it if he ruined them the very first day he can show them off to his football friends.

The whole world disappears into the background as he throws up while making a mental promise to himself to never drink again. The only thing keeping him from losing it all is the feeling of your hand on his back, comforting rubs grounding him back to earth. Giggles fill his ears and he’s sure everyone’s laughing at him– even in his drunken state, he can recognise the shame filling his veins– but before he can open his mouth to argue with his classmates, the sound of your angry voice makes him seal his lips close and listen to the scolding you offer to his teammates for making him drink so much.

“You know he has a weak stomach, Donghyuck!” you huff and puff, your hand still drawing comforting circles to Sunwoo’s back as his head stays stuck in the bucket, not having enough energy to even straighten his spine. 

“It’s his birthday! Come on, don’t be so tight-arsed.”

“Well, do you want him to die on his day of birth? That’s not very cool of you,” you growl, the shuffle of your clothing and a pained “ow” escaping his friend’s lips hinting to Sunwoo that you just kicked the right wing to his shin. 

Deserved, Sunwoo thinks.

“Can somebody get Eric? I’m pretty sure he’s in Daehwi’s room with MB!Y/N, Minjeong and Jihoon,” you hum, waiting for anyone to follow your orders. 

Sunwoo blinks in and out of it, his consciousness giving up on him with the incredible pain in his temples. He feels incredibly grateful to have someone like you by his side not only now, but all the time. The two of you have gotten incredibly closer ever since he joined the football team– and with you being one of the cheerleaders, you’re always somehow around. Not that he’s complaining, of course. It seems like you are one of the more responsible ones in this room right now, and god knows Sunwoo needs a bit of guidance on his day to day ventures.

“Do you think you’ll be sick again?” you ask, voice soft in his ear. “Or can I take the trash can off you now?”

Sunwoo thinks for a bit, then he nods and lets go of the plastic bucket. He doesn’t know what happens to it after and nor does he care– it seems like the alcohol in his veins took away all his sense of object permanence. He can barely see anything in the yellow lights of the room (which makes him believe he is going blind from all the alcohol he’s had– don’t tell him it’s just his eyes getting hazy and confused with how much his head is spinning), but he’s sure he can feel you wiping his tear-stained cheeks (he wasn’t crying– his eyes were just watering) and pulling him closer to you when he threatens to fall over even in his seated position. Your hand comes up to play with his hair when you let him rest his head against your shoulder, your actions making him sleepy, eyes closing on themselves like a threat for him to fall asleep any second.

Something about the care, the loyal protectiveness you take over the boy makes his heart soften. He breaths in your scent, trying his hardest to focus on your presence and not the weird feeling in his stomach– although it’s settled a bit since he threw up, it’s still a little uneasy– and before he knows it, there’s a tap on his shoulder waking him up from the haze.

Sunwoo mourns, not really wanting to move from his position, too comfortable with your fingers threading through his hair– but much to his dismay, your soft voice appears in his ear, telling him he has to get up. “Can you walk on your own? We’re gonna get you back to your room,” you hum, your lips accidentally brushing against the shell of his ear, making everything in him light on fire. He’s not really sure if this is the effect alcohol has on you, but if it is, he’s certain he never wants to drink again.

“Sunwoo?” you call, the way you say his name suddenly all too angelic in his ears– but still not enough for him to answer. “Alright,” you sigh after the dreadful silence, taking charge of the situation, moving away from the boy and offering him your hands to hold on to as you try to get him on his feet, “I guess we’re gonna find out.”

His fingers intertwine with yours as he stares up at you, his vision blurry, but still sharp enough to make out your tired face. The sight is enough to make Sunwoo worry– is he being too much? Are you mad at him? Do you not want to be his friend anymore? – but before he has a chance to address any of those concerns, he’s being tugged up to his feet. Not ready for the weight of his own body, his knees buckle and refuse to work. There is a pair of hands clutching his arm automatically– yours– as another pair holds him up from behind by his waist. 

He’s not really sure who was his other savior, but by the silent curse heard from behind, he thinks he recognises Eric’s voice. 

“I know I shouldn’t have left him alone,” he hears his best friend say, voice full of frustration.

“You really shouldn’t have,” he hears you sigh, making the poor boy scowl.

It still feels like he can’t really speak, exhaustion taking a toll on him, but he follows the orders as you tell him to get on his best friend’s back– Eric’s crouching figure ready for the impact, waiting for the taller one to clutch onto him so he can carry him into the safety of their shared room. The operation has to be quick if they don’t want to be caught by their teachers while walking through the hall, and somehow, in the distant crevices of his brain, Sunwoo recognises that and he makes no battle to resist, doing exactly as he’s told.

“Man, you’re heavy,” he hears Eric huff under him as the poor boy carries him through the hall. “You’re gonna have a killer hangover tomorrow, dude…”

Sunwoo’s head rests against his friend’s shoulder, hands carelessly hanging around Eric’s neck. He tries to blink away the sleep, desiring to stay awake, when your concerned face appears in his vision and suddenly, he feels insanely guilty.

“I’m sorry,” the two words escape his mouth with no trouble– the first words to appear in his vocabulary after the few minutes of him being surprisingly mute– only to hear his friend chuckle.

“Well, you’re going to be dying from a headache tomorrow, not us,” Eric hums, “so I think you have to apologize to future you first.”

Sunwoo pouts, bangs falling into his eyes making him blink in a desperate try to get the stray hairs away, attempting to make eye contact with your side profile. “Are you mad at me?” he asks, voice a little groggy from all the screaming and drinking.

“What?” you ask, genuinely surprised to hear his question. Your face morphs into a confused expression, the one where a wrinkle appears in between your brows– and it takes everything in Sunwoo not to poke the little line with his pointer finger in utter endearance.

“Are you… mad…?” he asks again, watching as your face morphs into amusement.

“No,” you shake your head, a hint of a laugh in your tone. “Why?”

“You look grumpy.”

“I’m just worried,” you note.

“About?” Sunwoo asks, his intelligence morphing into a one of a 10-year old with the influence the alcohol has on him. 

“You,” you say, sighing and shaking your head as you move two steps in front of Eric and open the door to their room, closing it swiftly behind you and following the duo towards Sunwoo’s bed. 

The younger one drops the boy into the cushions of his bed with an exaggerated sigh (that might as well be real, for all we know– god knows you wouldn’t be able to carry Sunwoo on your own), and the comfort of the pillow around his head is enough to make Sunwoo’s eyes start closing again, sleep threatening to take over his consciousness.

There’s some noise interrupting his sleep, though, making the boy tear his tired eyes open to notice you walking through the room. Sunwoo finds Eric putting a glass of water onto his bedside table and watches as you put a trash can beside his bed, hushed whispers sent Eric’s way resonating in the quiet room. “Make sure that he sleeps on his side so if he throws up again, he doesn’t choke–”

“Y/N?” he calls your name, watching as you look at him with careful eyes.

“Hm?”

“Are you leaving?” he asks, maybe a little foolishly.

“Yes.”

The boy nods at your reaction, showing his acknowledgement. In the drunken state of his mind, he knows he doesn’t particularly want you to leave, but he’s also fairly certain, finding the rational thought in the sober part of his brain, that you have to leave, and so he lets it go. The drunken state of his mind wins, though, when the next sentence foolishly escapes his lips.

“Please don’t stop liking me after this,” he mumbles, words slurring.

“What?” you ask– confused because you either don’t fully comprehend what he’s trying to say, or because you truly just couldn’t hear what words escaped his mouth– but when you don’t get a clarification, you just nod at the boy, seemingly desperate to keep him happy tonight. “Okay, I won’t.”

“You won’t stop liking me?” he asks, a big pout playing with his features.

“No.”

“Okay.”

That seems to put his mind at ease– enough to make his brain finally turn off and lead him to sleep. He doesn’t really remember what he dreamt of that night, but the last memory he has of the night of his 18th birthday is that you promised to not stop liking him after seeing him a drunken mess, and how he so deeply wished you’ll continue to like him forever.

It hits him only a few months later that the thing he so desperately hoped for that night was that you’ll keep liking him even at his worst– that he didn’t drive you away and one day, maybe, you’ll like him more than just a friend.

to. my first detention

September 1999

Sunwoo was never the one to break the rules. 

Well, if you don’t count that one time he skipped class just because he got too bored of it in the middle of the lecture. And it wasn’t even that hard either– he just asked if he could go to the bathroom, and when he got the approval, he stood up and left, never returning. 

Or if you don’t count that one time he climbed up the ladder on the side of the school building with his friend Juyeon and had his lunch there. Or that one time he cheated on an exam and made a scene about it when accused of the act, leading the professor into letting him off just that one time. 

Sunwoo is usually too lazy to break the rules. Some days, paradoxically, his laziness is what leads him to break the rules. He can’t really help it, even if he tried.

The one time he does break the rules, expecting to be punished by his teacher for coming late to class, it’s not even his fault in the first place. Morning football practice ran late and he didn’t feel like rushing to change out of his practice clothing– see, the laziness is playing a part in this as well– so when he arrived into his Physics lecture, the clock was already 15 minutes after the bell rang for the first period.

Much to his surprise, his teacher didn’t even punish him. “Well, you’re an athlete, so it’s understandable,” he heard, making his lips stretch out into a subtle smile. If he knew that joining the football club would lead him to have such privileges, he would’ve done it a long time ago. 

How did he still end up in detention, you may ask? Well, that’s a funny question.

Your flushed face appears in the doorway of the classroom exactly 2 minutes after Sunwoo does, breathing heavily and wiping the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand. Your hair tied up in a ponytail is loose now, stray hairs falling out to frame your face, your school uniform wrinkly, shirt not tucked in properly, as you spit out endless apologies to your teacher about being late for lecture.

“I’m really, really sorry about being late,” you bow, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you look around the classroom with apologetic eyes, “I had cheerleading practice and it ran a bit late, so I didn’t have enough time to–”

“Sit, Ms Y/L/N,” the teacher hums, “if you have time to do any other activities other than being in class, I’m sure you’ll have time to stay after class for detention, am I right?”

“Sir, I really–”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

Now, are you seeing the difference in the way you and Sunwoo were treated? That’s right. It may not look like it, because the young football player rarely puts effort into anything (other than the game), but when something angers him, it’s quite difficult for him to keep it in. 

And that’s exactly why his ass is currently sitting in one of the chairs of his classroom, legs spread wide as he looks around the silent room in boredom. Accusing his teacher for being sexist and holding to double standards wasn’t the best idea, but it was enough to get him into detention alongside you. 

His eyes get caught up with something– someone– sitting two desks in front of him, one to the right, scribbling their homework into their notebook. At least you are using up the detention time for important and useful things, he thinks. That won’t stop him from interrupting you in your task, though. Even better– it encourages him.

Tearing out a piece of paper from his notebook, Sunwoo fishes for a pen in one of his pockets, writing a short note that says: Wanna get ramen after this? before he crumbles the paper into a small ball. After watching the teacher for a few seconds, making sure that he’s not going to get caught, he throws the ball in your direction, aiming straight for your head.

He misses. Well, that’s why he plays football and not volleyball– he doesn’t have good aim when it comes to his hands– but nonetheless, the note ends up hitting your shoulder before it bounces off and falls to the ground.

Confused, you look around before you find Sunwoo staring at you, pointing towards the paper on the ground with a grin on his face. You sigh, sending a telepathic signal of ‘you’re acting like a child again,’ straight into his brain before you reach for the paper ball and take it into your hands, fingers uncurling the thin material and reading out the words he’s sent to you.

Only a few seconds pass before you throw the ball back to him– he catches it in his hands, earning an approving look from you at his strangely fast reflexes, making a sense of victory flow gracefully through his veins. A frown settles on his face when he reads out your reply, though.

can’t. I promised Aeri I’ll hang out with her later. we’re going for frozen yogurt.

Sunwoo furrows his brows. Oh how he hates to be denied. 

I can join!! i could use some froyo

You send a tired look to him over your shoulder when you receive the message, rolling your eyes at his comment. It’s obvious that Sunwoo can’t join– he knows it by the look in your eyes. Hell, he knew he wasn’t invited even before he asked– he just likes to see your frustration. Something about the way your face scrunches up, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth, amuses him in a way he can’t really describe.

you could’ve gotten yours instead of staying in detention. what was that about, by the way?? I’ve never seen anyone willingly do detention… you must be out of your mind

The message makes him chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. His motives are clear– well, at least in his brain. If he stays in detention, he can see you for some more. Which means he can hang out with you more (or look at the back of your head from afar, whichever you grace him with on that particular day). And he wants to spend as much time with you as he can, well, because… because he just likes to do so. Why?

Don’t ask. He hasn’t thought it out that far yet.

I just like things to be fair. I came late too :(( 

He writes back instead. Fairness is the last thing he cares about if the world is in his favor. If the world is unfair to you, though– that’s another thing. 

weirdo.

You write back. The pen is already in his hand, ink getting hotter as he masters up a reply, when the loud voice of his teacher cuts through the classroom and announces that detention is over and they’re all dismissed. Something in Sunwoo’s stomach drops. 

Sighing, he puts the note back into his pocket (and will forget to throw it out. Then, he’ll find it there after a few days, unravel the ball and read over the letters with a smile. He won’t throw it out then either– he’ll crumble it back and keep it there until the paper wears out and forms into litter in the pocket of his pants). Gathering his things into his bag, he swings the backpack over one of his shoulders before catching up with you, already halfway out of the classroom. You seem to be in a rush to meet Aeri– he understands– but there’s still one more thing he needs to do.

Clearing his throat, Sunwoo approaches you from the back. “Hey!”

“Hi,” you hum, adjusting the bag on your shoulder. “Aeri’s waiting for me outside, so I gotta–”

“Wait, I– I have something for you,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. Why does he suddenly feel so nervous? The words his sister said to him yesterday keep resonating in his head, and although he knows it’s not true and he doesn’t see you in that way, his stomach churns and he clutches his hand into a fist by his side, a desperate act to ground himself.

“What?” you look at him, eyebrows furrowed, all confused. Sunwoo’s not the one to give gifts– sure, he pays for your meals sometimes, but that’s only because you share them and he comes to the logical conclusion that he eats more of the portion than you do anyways, so it’s only fair.

“Um… well, my sister… she was making those bracelets yesterday and she made me do it with her, because she’s really annoying when she wants to be,” he mumbles, fishing for the bracelet in the front pocket of his backpack, lying straight through his teeth. 

You stare at him with wide eyes, completely unreadable to Sunwoo. Well, he already said it, so he may as well just dig his hole even deeper. The yarn is soft under his touch when he twirls the bracelet in his fingertips, eyes focusing on the shades of red and pink, suddenly too afraid to face you and look you in the eyes. “And, uh… we made too many, so I brought you one, because… you’re my friend, and all,” he mumbles, chewing the inside of his cheek.

His sneakers are oh so interesting to look at in the few seconds he spends waiting for your reply. He feels like he’s in court, waiting for his ordeal– anxiety making him bounce on the tips of his feet, his other hand clutching the strap of his backpack for dear life. 

“Did you make that?” you ask, tone of voice genuinely appreciative.

“Yeah,” he shrugs. 

He did not.

“That’s– that’s really cute,” you gasp, making the boy finally look up. When he finds that the words are addressed to the bracelet his sister made, not his act of kindness, something inside of him gets irritated, but the little devil in his chest leaves just as fast when you meet his eye and take the yarn from his hands, examining the red and pink knots from a closer distance.

“Yeah,” he hums, not really knowing what to say.

“Can you tie it for me?” you ask, offering the bracelet back to the boy and smiling at him, waiting for him to circle it around your wrist and secure it to place with a knot. It’s a bit long, the ends sticking out to different directions, but Sunwoo admits that it does look quite nice against your skin, and that if he forgets about the fact that it was his sister who actually made the bracelet (even though he begged her to teach him for approximately two hours, going as far as bribing her with his snacks), he does feel quite proud of the gesture.

There’s something possessive about the bracelet, he thinks. It's like a sign to everyone that you have someone who cares about you enough to tie it around your wrist. It’s like saying hey, this is my best friend! No one else enjoys their company enough to make a bracelet to prove it, but me. It’s like a silent translation of the heart’s calling: this person is mine. They’re not allowed to take this off until I die.

Sunwoo feels a bit giddy as he watches you admire the yarn around your wrist. You sport the same expression as Eric did when he forced a bracelet out of his sister yesterday– eyes glimmering, the widest grin on your features. While he may be sure what the face meant when it came to his best friend (although he tries to close his eyes from the obvious crush he has on his sister), he’s not quite certain when it comes to you.

In his mind, you smile like this at everyone. You’re just that kind of person.

But oh does he wish you mirror Eric’s feelings on the matter. Oh does he hope you tell everyone he is the one who gave the bracelet to you– he hopes you boost in front of your friends, tell them just how much you like it.

…maybe his sister was right. 

Maybe the bracelet had a deeper intention.

August 2007

“So,” Sunwoo hums, taking a salty chip from the bowl settled in the middle of the table, looking over at you with a curious gaze, “how have you been?” he asks, chewing as he waits for you to answer.

It’s an easy question, one would think– and it’s true, it’s not the most difficult thing to answer. But considering the circumstances, the fact that you and Kim Sunwoo haven’t seen each other since you both graduated from high school, despite telling each other you’ll stay in contact and see each other whenever you have the chance to– it gets a little bit more difficult. It’s been 6 years, many things have changed, you had your fair share of good things happening to you as well as the bad. 

What do you tell Sunwoo, though– a friend you lost somewhere along the way, much like everyone? Well, you can’t really blame him for growing distant with you– although to this day, you don’t really know the reasoning. He was the first one to leave, and although you always wished him the best, nobody can really blame you for doing your part at flying out of your nest. Everyone has to experience the outside world before they can find their place in it, no? 

It’s not your fault that you weren’t as successful as you wanted to be… 

“Well, you know,” you shrug, “so and so. Many things happened, but I guess I’m doing fine,” you conclude, nodding to yourself.

The face Sunwoo offers you is one of concern. You recognise that this is not really what he wanted to hear– not really what he expected you to say. The both of you were always ambitious, shooting for the stars, so it would be nice to know that at least one of you finally chased down the dreams you’ve had since you were young.

“What about you?” you ask quickly, shielding yourself from more interrogation. “How did football go?” 

That has Sunwoo chuckling, averting his gaze. He takes a sip of the soda placed on his table before he turns to you again and answers the question, shrugging to himself. “Didn’t really go as I planned,” he says, nodding to himself. “Guess I lost many years on it, but oh well. Can’t really take it back now.”

“Don’t say that,” you hum, chewing on the inside of your cheek. The answer he offered you was not surprising to you– not that you didn’t believe in his abilities, not at all. It’s just that by now, if Sunwoo’s dreams came true, you’d be aware. You’d hear about him everywhere. You’d see him on the news, in the paper… It seems like your friend has disappeared out of the spotlight he always wanted even sooner than he could walk straight into the stardom. You wouldn’t say you were keeping tabs on him, no– you just cared enough to try to look for him in every place you could. “It wasn’t lost years. You did what you loved, and you tried your best.”

“I know,” he says, scrunching up his nose in an adorable manner before he sighs, “I’m just moping around. Besides, I quite like the life I’ve had since coming back home,” he admits.

“You do?” you ask, eyes glimmering in the lights. Something in you shifts– moves to a more comfortable place at the information. It’s strange that hearing that he’s doing fine still makes you feel at peace. It’s been years– you really shouldn’t care by now.

“I do,” he nods, “I work at Juyeon’s father’s bakery now. I didn’t really expect to like it, but there’s something charming about it, I’ll have you know,” Sunwoo says, taking another handful of chips into his hand before feeding them to himself, seemingly trying to chase down the tipsiness in his bloodstream.

That drags out a giggle out of you, shaking your head at the news. “I wouldn’t take you for a bakery kind of guy,” you say, “I can’t really imagine you in the kitchen.”

“Well, times change, Y/N-ie,” the nickname slips out between his lips like a punch to your gut, his teasing tone dragging nails to you in a weird sense of nostalgia, “I’m the best baker in town right now. People go crazy over my cinnamon rolls,” he nods, pointing a finger to you as if to prove his point.

“I find that hard to believe,” you squint at him, shaking your head in disbelief.

“You’ll have to come and find out,” he says, the sentence so casual that the contrast of his following statement has your heart drop a little, “well, if you’re… staying around for a bit, of course…”

Humming, watching as his eyes soften at the shift in your composure, you nod in agreement. “I’ll make sure to add that to my plan.”

Sunwoo nods in acknowledgement. Swallowing down the chips that were in his mouth, he dusts off his hands off the excess salt and licks his lips before speaking up again, seemingly collecting his thoughts. “So you’re staying around for a while?” he asks, a little bit cautious. 

He doesn’t really know how sensitive this topic is for you– you don’t even know if he’s aware of your previous whereabouts, if he knows where you left off to and why– but Sunwoo stays caring, no matter the amount of time you spent not talking, no matter the big canyon that slowly formed in between the two of you in the years of no contact. It’s something you’ve always appreciated about him. He liked joking around, but he always knew where the boundaries laid, always knew when the joke went too far. He tried hard to avoid poking around too much, but he always made sure to apologize if he realized he hurt someone’s feelings. He’s a spark of violent fire, but he’s also tamed like a fireplace when he wants to be– warm, comfortable. It’s easy to feel like it’s back in the old times when you’re around him. It’s easy to pretend neither of you ever really left.

“I am,” you nod. “Things… didn’t really work out for me either, y’know,” you chuckle, the dry kind that shows just how bitter you are about the matter. “I went to New York with the internship my aunt arranged for me in KBS, but I guess I just… wasn’t really good enough to keep full-time.”

“Don’t say that,” Sunwoo mirrors your previous statement, an honest attempt at comforting you.

“No, it’s okay,” you laugh, “I stayed abroad for a while, tried hard, but sometimes, it’s just not meant to be, y’know? So after I realized my jobs weren’t making me enough money for a decent living in the States, I came back home,” you say, mouth forming a pout as you speak– the kind that shows you’re lost in thought, making up a plan as you go, “I’ll help my parents out for a while and then look for something to do here, I think.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound so bad,” Sunwoo says, offering you a soft smile. “I… I guess I’d say it’s good to have you back,” he admits, averting his gaze as he says the words, “ever since I came home, it felt like something was missing, so… anyways, you’ll figure it out, so don’t worry too much.”

“Thanks, Sunwoo,” you hum, pressing your lips into a tight smile, heart squeezing a little at his sincerity. It’s strange– it’s been years, having lived through countless different situations that were supposed to change the both of you, shift you into two completely different people– but somehow, Sunwoo still feels the same. Almost as if you two never left. Almost as if you two never drifted apart and instead spent your early twenties side-by-side, just like you always planned on doing.

The boy looks at you from the corner of his eye, a content smile spreading on his lips. You feel the atmosphere shifting, the situation tensing up a bit, and with the discomfort the image of him leaving you alone brings you, the words slip out of your lips with a bit too much ease.

“Would you want to… dance with me? I wanna see if you still remember what I taught you,” you grin, watching as the playful expression mirrors on your friend’s face, a nod eliciting from him that makes you quickly put your shoes back on and get ready for the dancefloor.

“Of course,” he hums, standing up swiftly and wiping his hands on the fabric of his pants before outstretching a hand for you, tone of voice sweet like honey, “my lady?”

to. my first dance

November 1999

“Who are you asking to the dance?” you question one afternoon, the two of you behind the closed doors of his room. There aren’t many times where Sunwoo gets to invite you over– mostly because he’s too shy to have someone around when his sister is home, and his sister isn’t known to have that many friends to hang out with– so the times where he finds you settled on top of the sheets of his bed, he treasures deeply.

“I dunno,” he mumbles, looking up at you from the comfort of his rug, shrugging, “I don’t really think I’m going, actually.”

“Oh?” you gasp, pouting at the boy. “Why not?”

“I don’t really have anyone to go with,” he says. What he really means is– you’re going with someone else. Sunwoo doesn’t really see himself dancing with anyone else but you– that’s just that kind of bond you two have in his mind. Your friendship is dear to Sunwoo, and the boy can’t think of anyone else he’d like to spend the evening with. 

When his sister argued with him with logical words, telling him that he treasures his friendship with Eric just the same, but wouldn’t invite him to the prom, he just scoffed at her. MB!Y/N doesn’t know anything. He doesn’t treasure Eric in the same way, no matter the fact that they pretty much grew up together. Some things just don’t feel the same way with Eric as they do with you. He feels closer to you, in a way.

“Well, that’s bullshit,” you scoff, shaking your head at your friend, “you’re handsome. And you play football, which is every girl’s dream. I bet anyone would go with you if you just asked,” you propose, pointing a finger at the boy, not really noticing the way he blinks at hearing the words ‘you’re handsome’ coming out of your mouth in regards to him. 

Do you find him handsome? Is that your subjective opinion or are you just objectively saying what you’ve heard in the cheerleader changing rooms? 

He’d like to know. Just out of curiosity.

Sunwoo scratches the back of his neck in nerves, now fully seated and facing you. It’s hard to meet your eye when he talks, his words coming out muffled. “I can’t dance anyway, so it would be no fun for everyone involved.”

And watching you dance with his classmate Shotaro would be no fun either. See, it would be easy for Sunwoo to be okay with the fact that you were going to the prom with someone older (which is practically impossible, since you’re both seniors, just for the record…). He would understand your point, then. It’s easy to be okay with defeat when your opponent has the upper hand, but when you put two men against each other that are hierarchically equal to each other, much like Sunwoo and Shotaro, the poor boy finds it hard to not feel as insecure in his position. 

But with Shotaro being the same age as him and the same amount of popular as him, Sunwoo can’t help but compare himself to his classmate. What does Shotaro have that Sunwoo doesn’t? Is it his smile? Should Sunwoo smile more…? 

It doesn’t really help his case that you’re going to the prom with the head of the dance team. Sunwoo can’t dance… Is it the fact that he can’t dance?

Or are you just going to the prom with Shotaro because he was the one to ask you to go? Sunwoo can’t help but wonder– would you have gone with him, had he the balls and asked you first? 

“What do you mean, you can’t dance?” you say, eyeing the male. 

“Just… never learned to, I guess,” Sunwoo shrugs, “but it doesn’t really matter, since I’m not going, so…”

“But you have to go,” you pout, putting the boy in a difficult position. He doesn’t know if you’re aware of the fact, but your pleading look does wonders to his decision making. He’d commit arson if you asked him to with those glimmers in your eyes. He’d kill for you. Or die for you. Both, depending on the situation. He’d do anything.

“Why?”

“It won’t be fun if you’re not there,” you say, sighing. Your face looks so genuine Sunwoo almost believes it. It makes his heart squeeze and contemplate his decision. “I know Donghyuck is gonna spike the punch, and there are gonna be fireworks,” you hum, chewing on the inside of your cheek, “and this is our senior prom, Sunwoo… you have to come.”

The words resonate in his brain, making him even more hesitant about his decision. This is your senior prom– the last dance of your high school years. The last opportunity for Sunwoo to enjoy this time with you and his friends, the last chance he gets at seeing you in a pretty gown, all dolled up and smiling from the sneaky sips of alcohol you’ll get with everyone outside of the school gym. The last opportunity for Sunwoo to dance with you, his best friend, and possibly the last time he’ll ever enjoy his evening with the rest of his football team before all of them have to study in order for them to take their CSAT.

Maybe you’re right. Maybe he should go. 

“I’ll think about it, I guess…” he mumbles, watching as your face morphs.

“You guess?” you scoff, glaring at him. “You’ll go or I’ll personally come to your house and drag you there by your hair, you get me, Kim Sunwoo?” you threaten him, having the boy laugh at your outburst. You’re really adorable when you tease him, Sunwoo thinks. 

“Got it, chief,” he says, offering you a playful look as he salutes and lays back down onto the carpet, eyes pressed to the ceiling. “Don’t expect me to dance, though, because I refuse to embarrass myself. I have quite the reputation to uphold, you see.”

Sunwoo hears you chuckle, the noise of his sheets tousling landing into his ears. Before he has a chance to look at you and see what you’re doing, his view of the white wall above is shielded with the sight of your face, hair framing your cheeks as you stare down at him and put out your hands, waiting for him to take them and get up to a seated position. 

“What?” he asks, genuinely confused.

“I’m gonna teach you, come on,” you call him with a motion of your hand, arms still outstretched and waiting.

“Huh?” he squints, watching as you roll your eyes in frustration.

“I’ll teach you how to dance, Sunwoo,” you snicker, watching as the boy slowly takes your hands and lets you drag him up from where he’s laying on his electric blue rug, “so you don’t embarrass yourself.”

That has Sunwoo stuttering, his figure freezing even when you manage to somehow make him stand up in the middle of his room. A million different exclamation marks appear all over his brain, warning him from the upcoming events, but he has no way of denying your proposition now, no matter how hard he tries. “No- it’s- you don’t have to, I’ll just-”

“Okay, so,” you say, dismissing all his previous attempts at stopping you from your quest, “first, you put your hand here,” you order.

The skin of your fingertips touches Sunwoo’s hand, making the boy’s heart stummer in his chest. You drag his palm towards your waist, placing it on the curve of your body. He swears he feels electricity flowing through the contact, warmth radiating off your skin even though it’s shielded by the fabric of your favorite shirt. He gulps as you put your hand on his shoulder, his eyes carefully following your movements, examining every slightest shift of your composure. 

“And then you hold my hand with your other hand,” you instruct, but move to do it yourself when the boy doesn’t seem to have it in him to reach for your palm himself. 

Your fingers interlock with his, making the boy chew on his bottom lip in a sudden flash of nerves. You’re standing so close he can smell your perfume, the scent making his head spin and feel lightheaded. If you made him turn in this moment, he’s sure he’d fall over, weak legs barely holding him up in your close proximity. 

“Sunwoo?” you ask, making the boy gulp before he hums in acknowledgement.

“You have to look into my eyes when you slow dance,” you laugh, the sound soft and airy, but enough to have his stomach feel all weird, like he’s about to throw up. Still, he forces himself to look into your eyes, instantly feeling like you’re hypnotizing him. (He’s convinced he’d jump out of his window right in this moment if you asked him to.)

“Okay,” he nods, standing still, maintaining eye contact. His body is stiff, muscles tense as you just stand there for a moment. Sunwoo battles his inner fight and doesn’t look at any other features of your face– he has a weird obsession with staring at your lips whenever you talk to him lately. He feels like a weirdo every time he catches himself doing it, so he tries to get rid of the bad habit as much as he can.

“Now, you just… kind of sway to the beat,” you say. The boy nods, but his body stays unmoving.

“There’s… there’s no music playing,” he gets out, watching as you chuckle, your lips stretching out into an adorable grin.

“Right,” you nod, sighing, “well, I’ll just… let me just…” you mumble before you start humming a tune– one that makes Sunwoo laugh from how ridiculous it sounds, the notes so unfamiliar to him he’s sure you’re making it up as you go. Before he knows it, you start moving, making him mirror your actions. 

It’s not as difficult as he thought it was, he thinks. You stare at him, all encouraging, as you sway from one foot to the other, nodding at him when you see that he’s following your lead well. Dancing with you suddenly feels like the easiest thing in the world, it feels like he was born to have you in his arms, in the middle of his room as you hum an unfamiliar song to him. He thinks going to the dance won’t be so bad– not if he gets to dance with you there for at least one more time.

“Doing well,” you smile, making the boy feel all warm on the inside. A feeling of victory flashes over him for a mere second. He beams in your considerate words, feels fuzzy under your warm gaze. He feels like he just won the lottery. It’s kind of silly, if he really thinks about it.

A boyish grin appears on his face, having Sunwoo shaking his head at how both ridiculous and over the moon he feels right now. The stream of hums coming out of your throat cuts off for a second as you talk to him with an instructing tone, a warm gaze pressed into his features. “So you can either do this, or you can…” the hand that was holding his suddenly untangles itself from between his fingertips (and Sunwoo’s momentarily glad, because his palm was getting quite sweaty– although he admits that it does feel empty now that you’re not holding it), before you place his other hand on your waist as well. 

Something about the pose makes Sunwoo feel strangely intimate, a little bit bashful under your gaze. It only intensifies when your hands go up and entangle behind his neck, bringing you two even closer than before. The proximity has him blushing, red cheeks bringing heat to his face. He prays you don’t mention it– he really doesn’t know if he would be able to talk himself out of this one.

“Or you can do it like this,” you say before you lead the boy again, bodies swaying to an imaginary rhythm. You’re not even humming this time, having Sunwoo follow your movements in complete silence, his aimless movements mirroring your own. He’s surprised he hasn’t stepped on your foot yet when you decide to quickly teach him how to waltz (while also mumbling something about this dance being performed with the previous hand placement). He follows your orders– step forward, close, then another step backwards– and before he knows it, you’re leading him into a gentle turn, rising and falling in a ¾ count.

He’s getting lost in your voice– the softest “1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3,” helping him to stay in rhythm– before he’s pulled out of his trance as he feels your fingers playing with the hair on his nape, entangling yourself into his black locks. The motion has him look back up to your eyes (that have been previously glued to your feet, making sure he’s not stepping on your socked limbs), surprised when he sees you staring at him with a sweet smile playing with your lips.

Halting your movements for a bit, you let out a giggle and take him by surprise when your hand reaches up towards his bangs, ruffling his hair as he still holds you around your waist, the two of you almost hugging in his room. “See? Not that hard. You’re a born natural.”

His heart feels like it skipped a beat, a weird sense of panic enclosing around his chest. He doesn’t know what it is, not really knowing how to name the feeling, but it has him nervously smiling and urging him to escape you– escape your touch, escape your scent, your voice and the way you smile at him like you may feel the slightest ounce of the things he does for you, but refuses to accept on most days.

Rushed movements make him break apart from your grasp, quick breathing making him feel like he might spiral. 

“Hey! We weren’t done yet!” you call after him when he runs towards the door of his room. 

Not looking around, the boy gulps and nervously calls back to you, facing the door. “I’ll be back! I just have to pee!”

The door to his bathroom closes behind him with a loud shut. The boy doesn’t aim for the toilet– instead, he walks over to the sink, turning on the tap and splashing his face with ice cold water. When he’s done, feeling a bit less heated up, he looks up and stares at his face in the mirror. He gives himself some time to collect his thoughts, to hopefully let go of his foolishness.

How many more times will he have to remind himself that he only sees you as a friend?

to. my first date

January 2000

The snow crunches under his sneakers and makes Sunwoo slip on the cold surface– no wonder his mother screamed at him for not wearing his winter shoes before he went out with his friends. He bets it would be way less difficult to walk in the whiteness of the ground if he had more grip in the soles of his shoes, but oh well– he’s not really good at making clever decisions half the time. Nobody can really be surprised.

Somewhere along the way between the moment he’s interrogated his sister about the reason for her bad mood and the moment where he purposefully let her with his best friend at the top of the hill with no way out (he had a hunch the two of them had some things to talk about, from both of their uneasy demeanours for the last day), he realizes he lost both his sister and his best friend, and while he’s quite certain Eric can find his way home just fine, Sunwoo shivers at the thought of not bringing his sister home to his mother. He’s not quite sure he’d survive that. 

The quest of finding you both begins the moment the friend group reaches the top of the hill. Given his sister’s impulsiveness, she could’ve ran away from home, and that’s not what he wants to deal with on such a pretty winter day.

Sunwoo finds his plan being successful the moment he reaches the hot chocolate stand. The victory he feels after finding his younger sister alive and healthy is quickly overshadowed with the sight of his best friend’s face close to hers, very clearly going in for a kiss. He thinks he has to do something before he is permanently scarred with the image of them two making out right in front of his eyes as he gathers some of the icy texture into his hands and makes a ball, aiming straight at the head of his best friend.

The snow hits the both of them, right in the middle where their faces are supposed to meet. It’s not quite where Sunwoo was aiming, but he figures it’s good enough– it stopped his sister and his friend in the act, and that’s all he really cares about at this moment.

“Eric Sohn, what the fuck do you think you’re doing with my sister?” Sunwoo hollers, watching as his childhood friend takes off and leaves his sister alone on the bench to watch the conflict. The rest of the group follows with laughter as Sunwoo gathers more snow, tailing Eric and making sure the boy is punished for whatever he’s been doing.

It’s not like he disapproves. Not at all, actually. He just thinks it’s fun to mess with him a little.

“I didn’t mean to! Hey!” Eric cries out over his shoulder, trying his best to escape the frostbite. Karma is not on his side as he trips over something and falls to the ground, efficiently helping Sunwoo and the rest of their circle to corner the poor youngest, snow hailed on his limp figure. 

One would think the group of them were making a snowman with how they’re rolling the poor boy around in the snow. Juyeon and Donghyuck make sure there’s not a hint of skin unhidden by the ice, making Eric mourn and kick around– he’s left helpless, though, outpowered and outnumbered by his peers. If anyone unknowing was watching the scene, Sunwoo is sure he’d be framed for bullying.

He thinks it’s quite deserved. Why? He’s not really sure why. He just has a hunch.

“Okay! Enough!” Eric mumbles, shaking his head when Donghyuck tries to fit snow into his mouth. “I’m sorry! It won’t happen again!” he says, eyes opening wide as MB!Y/N appears somewhere behind her older brother, a teasing pout settled on her face.

“It won’t?”

“MB!Y/N– I– Just help me..?” the boy pleads, making the rest of the group laugh and finally relax, easing the attack. Juyeon hums something about young love, making the rest of the guys roll their eyes on his unusual cheesiness, before Donghyuck taps his teammate’s shoulder, making sure he’s paying attention to him.

Sunwoo raises his eyebrows at him, waiting for what he has to say. “Look, isn’t that Y/N?”

There are a few ways to catch Sunwoo’s attention. First– you have to mention football. He could spend hours on the topic of who’s the best player– Ko Jongsoo or Ahn Junghwan? If anyone asked him to write an essay on it, he’s quite certain he’d do a great job explaining their techniques and goal statistics for numerous pages. Second– you have to mention food. He’s a big fan of junk food, but ever since his friend Juyeon introduced him to their family bakery, he’s been a big cinnamon roll enthusiast. And third– you have to mention Y/N. 

Just the mention of your name is enough for the boy to stand alert, suddenly all too knowing of his surroundings. He turns his head to look for you, catching sight of your figure dressed in your long coat, standing all alone at the bottom of the hill. There’s an almost bored-looking expression on your face, although Sunwoo thinks there’s a bit of disappointment behind your eyes, making a cloud shade your them and make them lose their usual glimmer. That alone has the boy frowning, and before Donghyuck can say anything more or try to gossip about your sudden arrival, Sunwoo takes off– trying his hardest not to slip on the snow in his sneakers as he runs down the hill and tries his hardest to get to you quickly.

“Y/N!” he calls for you, getting your attention. You turn to him with expecting eyes, watching as the boy runs towards you and does, indeed, slip on the snow.

He manages to save it. Doesn’t mean you didn’t see him falter, though. “Careful there,” you grin, making the boy mentally kick himself in the shin at being uncool in front of you.

Sunwoo glosses over the comment, ignoring the previous two seconds of his life. If he acts like he’s not embarrassed, it might as well come true. “What are you doing here? I thought you said you’re hanging out with someone else when I invited you on the phone today,” he says, curious to know why you changed your plans so suddenly.

There’s a hint of bitterness in your composure when you shrug, averting your gaze. “That fell through, and I didn’t wanna… I figured you’d be here, so I came…” you trail off, your half-assed explanation enough to bring the boy into an inner conflict– one part of him feels bad for you, his heart clenching when he takes notice of your stern gaze and the disappointed expression on your face, the other one foolishly happy that he got to see you today, that you went here looking for him.

“Oh,” he nods, not really sure if he should pray more information out of you. He tried to ask you about it when he called you this morning, twirling the landline on his finger nervously when he asked you if you wanted to go sledding with him and his friends. He even mentioned his sister tagging along to make sure you didn’t feel as awkward going– you wouldn’t be the only girl there! You’d get along with her well, he said, not really sure if he was lying or not. Either way, his sister does need her own friends… “Well–” he starts, not really sure where his own sentence is going, before you cut him off with a rushed out sentence, spoken so quickly Sunwoo barely registers it in that confused brain of his.

“Would you wanna go on a date with me?” you ask, eyes big as you stare into his. 

The question takes a few seconds to register in Sunwoo’s brain. He can physically feel the auditory waves entering his ears and converting themselves into electrical signals by the auditory system. The signals enter his left hemisphere– maybe he could point towards the area with his finger if you asked him to, the impact of the question so present in his mind– and then it decodes in the Wernicke’s area, slowly, but surely making more and more sense to him. The boy gulps at the invitation. He understands the question theoretically now, he’s registered it in his brain, but the practical implication of your preposition is still unclear– why in the hell would you ask him to go on a date with you?

“I…” he stutters, feeling heat rushing to his cheeks. He feels like a fool– he should’ve said yes a few seconds ago, when you first asked the question– but something inside of him is telling him that maybe his reaction is valid. No one expects their friend to randomly ask them out on the bottom of a snowy hill. Certainly not when he was 99% sure you liked someone else.

“Look, it’s- it’s good if you don’t want to, really, I just… I was supposed to go on a date with Shotaro today, but he never arrived, and I…” you nervously scratch your neck, once again averting your gaze from him, “I guess I was hoping you were in the mood to go out with me, since I got all ready and stuff…” you mumble, your tone of voice breaking something inside of him.

Oh. So you weren’t really asking him out. You just didn’t want to feel like a fool that got stood up. How stupid of Sunwoo to think you wanted to go on a date with him. The two of you were just friends, after all. Best friends.

And best friends are for cheering each other up. So despite feeling absolutely defeated, Sunwoo battles the weird feeling in his chest and puts on his best smile. “Of course! Don’t even mention it. Where… where did you wanna go?” he asks, watching as your face relaxes, shoulders falling back to their natural position.

“Are you in the mood for some ramen?” you ask, eyebrows rising in question.

“I’m always in the mood for some ramen,” he nods. He’s always in the mood for whatever you are.

“Great,” you nod, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“Great.”

“So… let’s go,” you say, nodding to yourself as you walk away from the hill, having your best friend tailing you, following you towards the ramen place in the center of the town.

There’s a bit of an awkward silence hanging over you as the two of you escape the sledding area. Sunwoo doesn’t even pay his goodbyes to his friends and his sister, but he trusts that Eric can get her home safely when the time comes to head back. The boy mentally curses out Shotaro for standing you up– how does he dare to ask you out and never arrive? He doesn’t care about the possible circumstances of his classmate’s absence. All he cares about is the saddened look on your face and the unusual quietness enveloping your aura. 

“Should I go kick his ass?” he asks, trying his hardest to make you feel better.

“It’s okay, Sunwoo,” you shake your head in disapproval, eyes pressed to the ground.

“Are you sure?” he asks again, not satisfied with your answer. “I’m quite good at fighting, contrary to popular belief, but if things go wrong, I know my friends would have my back,” he says, playfully punching the air.

The little play consisting of him kicking and punching an imaginary figure goes on for a while until he’s satisfied– meaning: until you’re left laughing at his overly exaggerated movements and grunts, shaking your head in disbelief at his boyish antics. Taking his hand in yours to make him stop with the play-fighting, you drag your now interlocked fingers towards your coat pocket, hiding his cold hand in the thick fabric.

Sunwoo’s heart beats fast at that, making him believe it’s going to run out of his chest any minute now– or make him go into cardiac arrest, either or– as he grows speechless, looking at you with big, surprised eyes. You don’t seem to put much meaning to your gesture, going as far as gently caressing your thumb over the back of his palm, his frozen skin growing hot at the contact. 

He’s never held hands with you before– if he doesn’t count the amount of times you dragged him around when the both of you were late for the shared cheerleading and football practice on Tuesday afternoons– and so the intimacy of the act makes him feel strangely weak in his knees. It’s hard for him to take his eyes off you, almost looking like a deer in the headlights to anyone watching you two right now. Sniffling from the cold, you shrug.

“It’s okay,” you smile, sending him a quick glance, “I didn’t really like him like that anyway. It just… feels a bit disappointing to get stood up, that’s all,” you nod.

Sunwoo nods at that too, something in him shifting. You don’t like Shotaro like that? When was this piece of information when he really needed it? (For like the last month, every time he couldn’t fall asleep because the thought of you marrying his classmate at one point in the future haunted him too much and made him want to poke the dance club leader’s eyes out?)

“I get it,” he says, walking along with you. Every time he feels the eyes of someone on you two, he feels his chest filling up with an unfamiliar sense of pride. Something about being seen with you as you’re all dolled up and holding his hand in your coat pocket makes him all giddy on the inside– no matter if this is a real date or not.

Because screw it, Kim Sunwoo is tired of reminding himself that he’s supposed to only see you as a friend. Because he doesn’t.

“I’ve never been on a date before, though, so you have to teach me all about that too,” he hums, tonguing the inside of his cheek. 

That has a giggle escaping your throat, another shake of your head in disbelief at his words. He doesn’t know what’s so funny, but he decides that as long as you’re laughing, he’s fine with feeling the tiniest bit of humiliation. He’d do anything to make you happy, he thinks. It’s a feeling stronger than him and he doesn’t know how to make it go away– he decided to stop battling it a long time ago.

“Just be yourself, Sunwoo,” you say, “that’s already perfect enough.”

Perfect. Sunwoo’s cheeks grow hot at that. He’s happy that it’s cold out– maybe he could blame his blushing on the weather. The boy isn’t so sure you know about the effect your words have on him. He’s always thought of you as perfect– flawless, funny, friendly, smart, kind and… and beautiful– but the adjective doesn’t quite seem fitting when he looks at himself in the mirror. He doesn’t believe you could hold him to such standards. He’s nothing special. God, he knows he’s not good enough for you– still, he keeps wishing he could be. 

“You look really pretty, by the way,” he hears himself say, the words escaping his mouth before he has the chance to stop them. The tone of his voice is quite unnatural in his ears, softer than it usually is, and somehow, the comment makes you roll your eyes, which he finds to be an unnatural reaction.

“You don’t have to say that just because you’re on a date with me,” you hum, eyes not meeting his. (Which might be a good thing. Sunwoo would like to keep his feelings hidden for a bit longer, and he’s not so sure you wouldn’t recognise the tender inkling he has towards you in his longing gaze.)

“I’m not saying it because of that,” he mutters, voice quiet, yet honest. 

Watching the side of your face, eyes still glued at every feature of your profile, he knows he’s not lying. He finds you oh so pretty even in the faint hue of the winter sun, with your scarf pulled up to the middle of your chin and hair pinned up with a pretty, silky bow. He finds you nothing short of angelic. Perfect. It’s kind of silly, if he really thinks about it.

Still, he can’t help himself. To this day, he counts the afternoon he spent with you, eating ramen at your favorite place, to be the first date he’s ever gone on.

Somewhere in the corner of his soul, he begs you count it as real too.

August 2007

It’s only a couple of days later when you find yourself in front of Juyeon’s father’s bakery, nervously chewing on your bottom lip and gazing at the glass door. The sun is shining strongly down on your skin, making you feel like you’re going to get a sun stroke if you keep standing in the direct light for any longer, and with the pressure of both the weather and your own thoughts, you decide to stop wasting time and push the door open, entering the establishment.

Not really sure if you’re welcome– who knows, Sunwoo might have just been acting nice and civil for the sake of not ruining his sister’s wedding– you prepared a mental shopping list of things you wanted to get at the bakery. You hadn’t seen your parents in a long time, so you thought a few donuts might make them happy. If Sunwoo just treats you like any regular customer when you walk in, you’ll take it as your sign to act like one and let this whole thing go. 

Truth be told, you don’t even know why you’re so nervous. It’s not like you’re promising yourself something more from this… right? 

It’s not like you suddenly felt younger again when seeing him at the wedding. It’s not like the memories choked you up when you went to sleep that night, it’s not like the feelings you had for the young boy suddenly waved at you in greeting, reminding you of just how close the two of you were all those years ago. 

Not at all. Why would anyone even think that?

The ring above the door makes a sound as you walk in, your insides clenching in a weird mix of nerves and anxiety at encountering Kim Sunwoo again. The store is empty when you reach the counter, but you’re soon greeted by the sound of the staff door opening, a tall figure stumbling in with a tray of pastries, yelling out a quick: “I’ll be right there!”

And as you watch Sunwoo with his bangs sticking to his forehead, an apron tied tightly around his thin waist, you feel like he hasn’t aged a single day and you two are still the same teenagers that ran around your school in order to not miss practice. The boy looks up at you from below his eyelashes, a boyish grin taking over his features as he puts the hot tray down on the counter and throws the kitchen towel he’s been using to shield his skin from the heat to the side, greeting you.

“Y/N! It’s nice seeing you again,” he beams, wiping his hands on his apron, gaze gluing to yours and never leaving, capturing you in a sincere eye contact that you don’t have the heart to break.

“Hi, Sunwoo,” you chuckle, pressing your lips into an honest, yet a little bit awkward smile. “How’s it going?” you ask, desperate to keep the conversation going– afraid that if it dies down, you won’t be able to revive it ever again and you’ll just regret it forever. There’s a weird sense of urgency in you, like you have a time limit to figure everything out– like you have to act now, or everything you ever wanted might slip from between your fingertips– yet, the more you watch Sunwoo in the serene atmosphere of the sweet-smelling bakery, you notice yourself relaxing.

“Good! Better now that you’re here, actually, it’s been a slow day,” he muses, nodding to himself. “What about you? Can I get you anything?” he asks, eyebrows raising, round cheeks on full display as he stares at you with an expecting smile.

“I’m doing well,” you nod, humming, “really well… catching up with my parents, settling in and stuff… You know the deal,” you laugh. “I actually came to get some donuts for my parents, sort-of like a thank you gift for letting me stay until I figure out my own place and stuff,” you say, watching as Sunwoo urgently nods with acknowledgement.

“Say less, darling,” the nickname slips out from him a little too easily, a little too casually for the way it captures your heart. It has you nervously shifting from one foot to another, insides warming up with the impact of his fleeting gaze as he moves to get a box from under the counter, moving closer to the glass vitrine filled with the sweet pastry. “Your mum loves these ones,” he points towards the donuts coated with the pink glazing.

It’s kind of weird– how Sunwoo knows exactly what your mother likes, despite him not being around your house every other day like when the two of you were teenagers. It makes you realize that even though you moved away for years, the time here didn’t stop. Everyone moved on with their lives, everyone continued on as if nothing happened. And you can’t hold it against them– you guess you just hate the weird pit in your stomach that opens up with the realization that while Sunwoo knows which pastries your mum likes (most likely because she stops by to buy bread often, taking some treats with her for her and dad while she’s at it), you don’t.

You try hard not to show it on your face, though. Sunwoo continues to pack more donuts into the box, not really attempting to ask you for what you’d like– he just chooses himself, making sure you bring home the best ones of the bunch, the most delicious ones they carry. Letting him do his work, merely watching as he carefully moves the donuts from the vitrine to the box, you hear him continue on with the conversation.

“You came in on the right day,” Sunwoo hums, “Juyeon works tomorrow, so you wouldn’t be able to catch me if you went.”

Ignoring the fact that he sees right through you– sees that your intention was to see him, to have a way to visit him and attempt to rekindle whatever bond you had when you were young– you just chuckle. You can’t blame him for knowing you so well, despite not being around each other for so many years. When you were young and in love, you used to call him your soulmate, after all. You guess there’s always a hint of truth, even in the most lovesick fantasies. “Well, then I’m glad I went in today,” you admit.

Sunwoo smiles at that– the kind of smile you always loved at him, the one where he shows his teeth and his eyes crinkle up into moon crescents. Once he’s done packing your donuts, he puts the box on the counter, showing you his back just as fast when he turns around, seemingly grabbing something else as well. When he’s facing you again, there’s a sweet pastry in his hand, still warm.

“What’s that?” you ask when you notice him offering it to you, eyes peering into his.

“A cinnamon roll,” he says, waiting for you to take it into your hands, “I told you everyone goes crazy over my cinnamon rolls, so I wanna see if their magic works on you too.”

“Is this how you flirt with girls over here?” you chuckle, but take the bun into your hand nonetheless, taking a hesitant bite of the treat. The sweetness melts on your tongue, the warmth of the freshly-baked pastry enchanting you with its taste, something about its essence weirdly reminding you of home. 

“Haven’t tried it before,” he shrugs, “so tell me if it’s working,” he jokes, watching as you chew on the roll. 

“Well, is it any good?”

Humming in satisfaction, delight on the tip of your tongue as you swallow down the heavenly dough, you nod. “It’s to die for, Sunwoo.”

“Told you,” he shoots you a cheesy finger-gun, reminding you so much of your best friend from high school, before he turns and takes a paper bag from somewhere, talking to you as his back faces you again, “I’ll get you some more to take home with you. I bet they didn’t have those in the Big Apple.”

“If I knew I was missing out on these, I would have come back quicker,” you joke, watching as Sunwoo turns to you with an amused look on his face, seemingly enjoying the praise.

The eye contact unarms you again, your composure falling just the slightest. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you clear your throat and reach for your wallet, ready to pay and leave so you can think about the interaction on your way home (and overthink every slightest detail, just like teenage you would after every fleeting touch young Sunwoo would send your way). “How much do I owe you?” you ask.

“Oh, it’s on the house,” he says, licking his lips, “consider it a… welcome gift, if you will,” he hums, offering you the box full of donuts and the paper bag consisting his infamous cinnamon rolls, your skin touching just the slightest when you take them from him, but still making electricity jolt through the nerve endings of your fingertips.

“No, Sunwoo, I really can’t-” you shake your head, but get caught off by him.

“Take them, please. You can pay me back some… other time?” he cautiously says, seemingly not really knowing if he’s still within your desired boundaries. 

“O-okay, then,” you nod, agreeing to the subtle invitation– the subtle promise to meet again, the hopeful question leading into something more. “Thank you, Sunwoo,” you hum, smiling as you turn towards the door and get prepared to walk out, giving both of you some time to think about what happened in the last few minutes.

As you open your mouth to say goodbye to him, hand landing on the doorknob, you hear him call after you once more.

“Oh and Y/N?” he says, a confident look suddenly overtaking his features. “I end here at 5, if you’d like to hang out after.”

Unknowingly, a grin appears on your features, the one that’s so strong you can’t really mask it no matter how hard you try– as you nod at him, the victorious feeling flowing through your veins maybe even a bit dangerous. Still, you don’t have it in you to turn the invitation down– you wouldn’t be able to even in your wildest dreams.

This is what you came here for, after all, isn’t it?

“Okay,” you agree. “So… I’ll see you later?”

“See you later,” he nods, teeth capturing his bottom lip. It’s kind of adorable. He couldn’t battle the smile threatening to pull at the corners of his mouth, no matter how hard he tried.

Maybe coming here– coming back home– was the best thing you could’ve done.

“Wanna come in?” Sunwoo asks. It’s a few hours later– you followed through with his invitation and waited for him in front of the bakery at 5:05 sharp, catching him after his shift. You two took a walk through the whole town, waltzing slowly through his neighborhood until you reached his childhood house. You remember far too many afternoons spent in the comfort of the walls, and although you think it would be nice to revisit those memories, you notice his mother’s car (is it still hers? You have no way of knowing.) in the driveway, and suddenly, you’re too shy to join him as he drops his stuff off in his house.

It’s like you’re a teenager again– except, you never had any problems meeting his mother before. She was a nice woman, although a little busy (you only heard Sunwoo complain about the fact a few times– mainly when he was feeling sentimental or particularly under the weather about something), and she always treated you very nicely. Almost like you were supposed to join the family one day. His sister once asked you if you’re gonna marry him, and you laughed at her back then– you were so young, you didn’t even think of having a wedding with Kim Sunwoo. The funniest thing was the timing: you weren’t even dating him at the time. Or planning to, really. Sure, you always imagined somehow spending the rest of your life with him, in one way or another, but the thought of marriage didn’t often cross your mind. Life is ironic, you think– MB!Y/N was the first one to have a wedding and here you are, retangling your life paths with her brother again. 

So no, you were never really scared or shy in front of his mother. Back then, things were different though. Simpler? You’d say they were definitely easier. You were more extroverted and open, more ambitious and less embarrassed of how your life turned out to be.

Also, you didn’t want to give her any ideas. It’s far too soon for that, you think. 

“No,” you shake your head, hesitating a little bit, “I’ll wait for you here,” you say, watching as he smiles at you and nods, walking inside of the house to drop off his things and change.

You two didn’t really have any plans for the rest of the evening. You told Sunwoo he could show you around town, tell you what changed and what stayed exactly the same, since he came home earlier than you– you bet it could be two or three years ago. He eagerly nodded, although noted that not much is different in your hometown and your walk could turn out pretty uneventful. No plans were set in stone, though.

Nervously shuffling from one foot to another, you decide to walk around the yard. Sunwoo’s house was always big– although it seemed more giant to you when you were a teenager. It’s a strange observation, since you didn’t really grow any more inches since you hit puberty. Your eyes study the flowers in front of the gate, the mowed grass, the big tree in the backyard. If you focus hard enough, you could almost see the two of you laying under it, letting the leaves shield you from the sun, both much younger and carefree than now. Sunwoo would show you pages of his favorite comic books and you’d play on your Tamagochi, making sure it doesn’t die in two days like his did when he first got it. When you turn to your right, you see the garden house you two– sometimes with his sister, sometimes with Eric, sometimes with both of them at once– spent many afternoons in.

There used to be an old, red sofa inside. There wasn’t much space, since it was filled with gardening supplies, Sunwoo’s and MB!Y/N’s old bikes, flower pots, packs of soil and all other things you could need for gardening, but it was fun to hide away from the sun in there and drink iced tea, talking about whatever came to your minds or solving nanogram puzzles in comfortable silence (or occasional sigh from Eric when he got stuck somewhere in the middle of his crosswords).

Your curiosity gets the best of you when you open the door, deciding to see if it’s still the same inside. Your eyes widen when you notice the garden house a little less packed than before– mainly because Sunwoo’s mother no longer does gardening in her free time and buys her vegetables on the market like your mum does, you presume– but instead, it’s full of all the things the childhood you knew so well.

Sunwoo’s old bike– red and a little rusty, but you bet it could still work. The rug they used to have in their dining room is now in the middle of the little garden house, stained with dirt. Next to the usual red sofa is a leather armchair that they used to have in their living room for a while, the dark brown fabric now worn out, chapped and peeling off. In the corner of the room, you find a box filled with various sports equipment– tennis rackets, a yellow tennis ball, a jumping rope, and lastly, a half-deflated football. The sight of it has you sighing a little, reminding you of Sunwoo’s composure when he told you about how he never got to pursue his childhood dream fully. 

Your eyes glaze towards his old skateboard, having you chuckle, the memories of him riding it down the hill in front of his house appearing in your mind. Sometimes, he would be there with his sister and his childhood friend Eric as well (that more often than not let MB!Y/N borrow the board, watching her with lovesick eyes instead of riding it himself), the young boy trying to teach himself tricks he saw on the TV.

“Do you think I still got it?” you suddenly hear Sunwoo ask from behind your shoulder, making you jump in surprise. The male laughs at your shocked face, shaking his head in disbelief at your easily shaken composure. 

“You scared me,” you breathe out, clutching your chest for good measure, to show him how much you really mean it– your heart was racing, and contrary to popular belief, the sight of him in casual attire (a gray hoodie, so similar to the one he used to wear in high school, baggy Adidas sweatpants covering his legs) wasn’t the reason for the little heart attack.

“So did you!” he exclaims. “I got outside and didn’t see you there, I thought you ran away for a second,” he hums.

“As if,” you mumble, “I walked all the way here, why would I leave so suddenly?”

“I dunno,” he shrugs, “you could’ve changed your mind, or something,” he says, his composure suddenly as boyish as when he was just a teenager, something in your heart softening. You guess he sometimes still carries some of the same insecurities he tried so hard to mask when he was young. Some things don’t really change, but you really wish at least this would’ve.

Smiling at him, you shake your head. “I don’t think you still got it, though,” you go back to reply to his initial question, pointing towards the skateboard.

“Well, who knows,” he peeps, “maybe I could do an Ollie, or something.”

“I really don’t think you could, Sunwoo,” you laugh softly, watching him regain his statement competitiveness.

“Wanna bet?”

“No,” you shake your head, “I don’t want you to break your bones, so let’s just say I believe you,” you giggle, watching as the boy mirrors your expression, his gaze softening. 

A short moment of silence overtakes you two as you sigh and look around the garden house, instinctively taking a seat on the red sofa covered in dust. You bet it’s been years since anyone’s sat on it, and you’re glad to be the one revisiting its comfort. It’s like solidifying your return– like the old piece of forgotten furniture in Sunwoo’s garden house is the spawn point of your childhood. “Doesn’t this make you nostalgic?” you ask, eyeing your companion.

“Well, I live here,” he shrugs, “so not as much as it makes you, I suppose. Having you here again makes it more nostalgic, though, I’ll give you that.”

His words have you overcome with something bittersweet. Seeing the town you love so much makes you almost regret you ever left. The rational side of your brain reminds you that you gained a lot of experience abroad, though, and so you settle with being just a little bit remorseful of your past self for being so overly-ambitious. 

“It’s weird,” you allow yourself to be vulnerable in front of him, the essence of him being your best friend– your first love, the first person you ever felt safe with– overtaking you in the moment of weakness, “it’s like everybody moved on, but I stayed here.”

“Well, not everybody moved on,” Sunwoo hums, referring to himself. “Juyeon stayed, too. Eric and MB!Y/N are moving only a few hours away… Haknyeon lives down the street now,” he points out, a poor attempt at making you feel better.

“Yeah… it’s just… I hoped I would do big things. I hoped we would both do big things,” you say, tone of voice quiet, your eyes avoiding him. It’s hard to keep eye contact with him when you share your struggles– at least that’s the way it always was when you were young. The look he offered you always made you feel so tender, so cared for that you wanted to burst out crying. In your age and state, you can’t afford to tear up in front of your ex-boyfriend anymore.

“Sometimes, things don’t work out the way we want them to,” Sunwoo says, tone of voice considerate. “And that’s fine. I wanted to be a star, and I’m not, but that’s okay, because hey… I’m happy anyway. I’m content. And I know that one day, you’ll be too. It just takes a bit of time.”

Snickering, you play with your fingers in your lap, legs plopping up and crossed, striking an almost defensive pose. “Were you… were you embarrassed when you came back?” you ask.

Sunwoo laughs, the sound so heartfelt it makes your insides squeeze. “Terribly. I mean, look at me in my mid-twenties, still living with my mother. Even back then, I felt like a failure. I felt like a disappointment, but… then I realized not everyone had the opportunities I had. Not everyone almost made it professional, you know, and that’s still something to be proud of.”

“I’m still living with my mother, but hey– she’s getting older and the house is big. MB!Y/N moved out, and I wouldn’t want my mum to get lonely… so I think I’m doing pretty well, given the circumstances,” he says. Pausing for a heartbeat, as if collecting his thoughts, he continues. “I think you should find the positives in your situation too. Not everyone got to live in New York... Work for the national TV… That’s still a huge achievement, and I think you should be proud of yourself for that.”

Rolling your eyes– although grateful to hear the words– you snicker. “It’s hard to do that right now…”

“I know,” he nods, smiling when you finally look at him. “It takes time. And until then, well, for what it’s worth, I’m really proud of you. And maybe… maybe you coming back home is how life’s supposed to go anyways.”

Biting down on your lower lip to stop yourself from tearing up– see, you knew you shouldn’t have looked the boy in the eyes during his little pep talk– there’s suddenly a weight leaving your shoulders, heart softening and growing more tender. Your wounds seem to sting a little less. It’s strange– even after so many years, he still knows just the words you need to hear.

“Yeah,” you nod, voice barely louder than a whisper, a soft smile playing with your lips, “maybe.”

to. my first kiss

March 2000

His eyes stay glued to the TV in your living room, the boy almost looking hypnotized as he focuses on the program running, furrowed brows and all, showing his utmost concentration. A sigh lands into his ears, but goes unnoticed when you enter the room, a scowl sitting on your face. “Sunwoo! I told you to watch the oven! What if the cookies burn?”

“Yeah…” he mumbles, not a single word coming out of your mouth truly registering in his brain.

“Sunwoo!” you grunt, but when you get no reply, you just choose to roll your eyes and walk into your kitchen yourself, opening the oven and making sure the cookies you two have been baking haven’t burned down into coal yet. Not long after, you plop on the sofa next to your best friend, tone of voice still showing a bit of frustration at his carelessness.

“You shit on Eric for watching those, but you’re just as bad,” you hum as you notice the kdrama going on in the TV. It’s one of the ones that hardly make any sense and each scene is overly-exaggerated and repeated at least twice to create impact, but Sunwoo finds himself living for the drama. Each argument has him examining the scene, mentally rooting for his favorite characters– and although he is busy with football practice nowadays, he doesn’t skip a single episode of Happy Together. 

It’s not as entertaining as the manga comics he borrows from Hyunjae’s father’s comic shop, but he figures that it’s good enough to pass some time… and indulge over.

“I think they’re gonna kiss,” he notes, pointing towards the screen.

“Oh, good point, Sherlock Holmes,” you sigh, shaking your head in disbelief. If there was something you’d expect out of your friend, it seemingly wasn’t his enjoyance of cheesy dramas that air in the afternoon hours of the week. 

And Sunwoo admits, he was never the one to enjoy romance. Hell, it was something he always made fun of when it came to his friend Eric– he was not the one to watch romantic comedies, he wasn’t the one to tell girls cheesy lines or bring them flowers on Valentine’s day. He does seem to be enjoying the laughable scenes rolling on the TV a little too much lately, though.

Maybe he should start hanging out with Eric less.

The scene slowly transforms into close-ups of the two main characters, showing them instinctively closing their eyes and leaning towards each other, eyes trained on each other’s lips. It doesn’t take much to predict the next actions, but Sunwoo still finds himself restless in his seat when they finally kiss, legs kicking up and a gasp escaping his mouth. One would think he won the lottery or was just greeted with the greatest surprise ever, with how he’s reacting. None of the two are true, though.

“Oh, wow,” you hum next to him, seemingly not really interested in the drama as much as your best friend is.

“You’re ruining it,” Sunwoo sighs, looking at you as you roll your eyes and settle deeper into the couch cushions. 

“Oh, sorry,” you note, but your composure stays a bit annoyed. 

Sunwoo watches the TV for some more– the scene of the two characters kissing stays on the screen, slowed-down and repeated, in the true 90s TV show fashion– before his eyes trail off the device and move towards you, glazing your side profile. He takes notice of your casual attire– you changed out of your school uniform in the time he was supposed to watch the cookies baking in the oven, and something in his stomach churns, making him blurt out the random question that so suddenly appears on the tip of his tongue.

“Have you ever kissed anyone before?” he asks, genuinely curious. He doesn’t even know why the response matters to him so much– he also doesn’t really know what reply he’d like to hear better, if he’s being honest– but now it’s out in the open and he can’t take it back.

“Hm?” you hum, snapping your head towards him. “Oh. Yeah, I guess…”

“You guess..?” Sunwoo repeats, furrowing his brows. How can one not be sure? 

“Well– yeah. It only happened once, though,” you shrug. It takes everything in Sunwoo to not ask who you kissed and when, or under what circumstances, and decide to despise that person until the day he dies. It’s not his business and he shouldn’t even care in the first place… He can’t say he’s disappointed in your answer– it’s your life and your decisions– but something inside of him screams that now, he can’t be your first no matter how hard he’d try. (It’s not like you’d want to kiss Sunwoo anyway, so he really doesn’t know why he’s making such a big deal about it.)

“What about you?” you ask, the question catching the poor boy off guard. He didn’t necessarily expect you to ask him back– so much to his title of Sherlock Holmes– and the reality that he can’t lie to you takes him out in full force as he bashfully stares out of the window.

“No,” he peeps, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

There’s something embarrassing about admitting to the girl you like that even at the ripe age of 19, you’ve never kissed anyone before. Shame creeps up his neck and adorns his cheeks after the simple word slips out of his mouth, eyes refusing to meet yours.

“Really?” you ask, and you sound genuinely surprised– there’s a hint of Sunwoo’s ego recovering, but he thinks the hit was too hard for him to ever recover.

“Yup,” he says, a popping sound heard as his lips voice out the last consonant, the view of him playing with his own fingers suddenly more interesting than anything else happening in your living room right at this moment.

“I thought– nevermind,” you hum, scratching the back of your neck, “why are you asking?”

“Just… just curious, I guess…?” he stummers, shrugging. 

A moment of silence overtakes you two– enough to make the boy instantly hate everything he’s ever said on the matter. If there could open up a hole in the ground right now to swallow him, he’d jump in with much enthusiasm. Why did he have to ask?

“Do you wanna try?” you suddenly propose, making the boy’s heart feel like it burst and threw him into a cardiac arrest. His hands start sweating, his cheeks tint red and it feels like all oxygen was suddenly sucked out of the living room, his lungs collapsing on themselves.

You seem to try to save the situation, noticing the utter shock on his face. “I mean– you don’t have to, but I… I wouldn’t mind, and it’s– I don’t know… if you wanted to practice with me, or something, I’d be down to…” you stutter, chewing on your bottom lip as you finish the little tangent, terror evident in your eyes.

Sunwoo feels like a little boy that just found his favorite gift under the Christmas tree. Like he found the most pricey toy there, the one he always wanted, and now that it’s there, he’s scared to actually play with it, because he doesn’t want to break it. Much like your friendship, he thinks. There’s too much to lose if he crosses this line, and he’s very much aware. 

But the offer seems tempting. Almost too tempting. God, he doesn’t think he could say no.

He may not be your first kiss, but you’re asking to be his. This sounds like a dream, if he really thinks about it.

“You know what? Just forget–”

“I’d– I’d like that…” he mumbles, trying really hard not to avert his gaze from you.

Your gaze softens, nodding your head. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he agrees.

“Okay,” you nod again, moving a little closer to him. Your knees knock into the side of his thigh, your whole figure now facing him on the sofa as his legs still point forward to the TV. He keeps staring at you, a little nervous, but expectant. “Are you sure? You don’t have to do it just because–”

“I’m sure,” he cuts you off, watching as your face relaxes, a smile appearing on your lips at the next addition. “I want to.”

“Okay.”

You move impossibly closer, your crossed legs in contact with his clothed skin. He curses the thin fabric of the pants of his school uniform for making him feel every slightest flex of your muscles when you move, making his skin flare up and burn. He keeps staring at you, watching you as you lean closer to him, your faces now inches away from each other. Sunwoo finds himself focusing on every feature of your face, counting the eyelashes framing your eyes, glazing over the sparkles in your orbs. You stay close for a minute, unmoving. 

Eyes locking, Sunwoo finds himself gasping a little, breathing shuddering when he notices your gaze falling to his lips. Your breathing mixes, air meeting his face when you breathe out a minty breeze. His heart is already racing and you’re not even doing anything.

When he finds you finally moving towards him and notices your eyes shutting close, he mirrors your actions, but stays unmoving. After what feels like eternity, he feels something soft pressing to his lips, warmth spreading from that part of his face to the rest of his body. The contact of your lips with his is gentle, like you’re testing the waters, and although the feeling is unfamiliar, Sunwoo decides he doesn’t hate it.

The weird firework show in his stomach actually suggests that he’s quite enjoying it. Your lips break away from his for a bit, rewarding him with only a peck, and before the boy has the chance to think this is it and it’s over, you dive in for more and kiss him again, this time longer, more firmer.

Your hands come up to cradle his cheeks, holding him close. He feels himself burning up, his composure completely crumbling when he feels you smile against his lips. 

“You know you can kiss back, right?”

“Mhm,” he hums, opening his eyes to see you staring at him with a tender look.

“Try it,” you say, hands gently coming up to brush his bangs away from his face. If anyone was looking at the two of you now, Sunwoo thinks they’d conclude that you two were in love.

And maybe Sunwoo was, by the way he was looking up at you like you hung the stars on the sky. By the way he was staring at you with such a vulnerable look he feared you might see right through him, see right to his core and call him out on every unconfessed word hiding in his heart. He looks a little scared, a little tense, still, but his eyes don’t lie. They never do. There’s no one else that could make him feel the way you do.

“Okay,” he nods, moving in his position so he’s facing you, ready for more. 

He mirrors your previous motions, leaning towards your face. He wets his lips and closes his eyes when he’s sure he’s close enough to not miss your mouth, and after another deep breath in to calm his nerves, he presses against you. He feels you freezing under him, a momentary panic spreading all over his chest as he thinks he’s done something wrong, before he feels you kissing him back.

A whole other sensation takes over him when he feels your lips moving against his, his fingertips buzzing when he drags his hand up and moves your hair behind your shoulder, large hand resting on your jaw. He’s not sure if he’s doing this correctly– hell, he’s never done this before– but after you move a bit and entangle your hands behind his neck, pressing against him a bit more firmly, yet still tender and gentle like the first time, he recognises that somehow, it feels right, and he thinks that’s all evaluation he needs for now.

The need for oxygen makes him break away from you, breathing heavily as he opens his eyes and finds you resting your forehead against his, smiling. “Like that?” he asks, shamelessly staring at your wet lips, already yearning for more.

“Something like that,” you nod, giggling. “You still need more practice, though,” you suggest, making the boy frown.

“Was it that ba–”

Rolling your eyes at him, frustrated at the way he always needs everything spelled out for him, refusing to take a hint, you press your lips against his again, teeth clashing a little when Sunwoo picks up the pace and kisses you back. The TV is a mere white noise in the background now, everything around you two disappearing, all of Sunwoo’s senses focused on you and only you. He could get lost in the way you taste– like strawberry bubblegum you bought at the store on the corner of the street– and the way you feel against him– soft, tender, warm.

He feels like he could burst. He knows his hands are a bit sweaty, but he’s only half aware of the fact when his palms move to hold your cheeks, much like you did to him before, and your hands entangle in his hair, playing with the strands.

He could stay like this forever, blissfully unaware of the consequences of this act. He could kiss you over and over and over again, even if it meant he was still bad at it and needed more practice– he could get lost in your scent, in the tender way you hold him to you, in the way you keep smiling against his lips whenever he does something to surprise you: like get a little bolder and angle your head by your chin with his thumb, getting more comfortable.

He’s glad he’s sitting down, because he’s quite sure his knees are too weak to carry him right now. When you break away from him again, lips swollen and eyes blown-out, he thinks you might just be an angel. He’d love to engrave this image into his memories forever.

Although, he’s doubtful that he could ever forget about this. Or anything about you, really.

And even as you suddenly gasp, finally aware of the world around you, running to the kitchen and screaming: “Sunwoo! We forgot about the cookies!”,

he wonders just what more you could teach him about life. He’d follow you to the end of the world if you asked him to, holding your hand in his and not thinking twice. He’d bring you down a star, if you only so expressed you would like one. He’d do anything. 

You taught him what friendship is. You taught him what it means to care for someone. What it means to have someone special. You taught him how to drink (although by scolding him when he was hungover. He felt cared for even with your stern gaze). You taught him how to slow dance– even though you spent the prom with someone else. Just now, you taught him how to kiss.

And although you’re unaware, he’s quite certain that when he’s 19 years old, spending each of his days with you, although unaware, you taught him how to love someone too.

August 2007

You feel kind of silly, standing in front of the bakery as the sun sets over the horizon, the clock striking near 5 in the afternoon as you gnaw on your fingernails and hesitate a little before coming in. Pushing the door open and slipping inside, the male currently sweeping the floor looks over at you, a look of pleasant surprise sitting at his face and a sunny smile sent your way upon your arrival.

You don’t really know why you keep running back to him. The whole town reeks of familiarity to you, every corner and inch of each street filled with the essence of your childhood and your whole growing up. It’s not like you don’t have anything else to ground yourself back to, but somehow, your inner voice always keeps calling for Sunwoo. It’s weird– it’s been ages and you shouldn’t feel like this around someone who you haven’t even properly dated for that long, if you don’t count the few months before he left– but it’s something you can’t control, an essence you can’t hold back. 

“Y/N,” he calls for you, “what are you doing here?” he asks as he continues his routinal cleaning, putting the broom away behind the counter. 

It’s a stupid question. You bet he realizes it too, but you’re somehow glad he is taking initiative. This way, you don’t have to be the first one to spark the conversation. This way, you know you’re welcome. 

“Oh, well,” you shrug, “I’m… looking for you…?” you say, tone of voice suggesting that you’re hesitant, almost a little shy to admit it to yourself. 

Maybe you’re foolish for feeling this way. Because you know what all those things mean– you know what the lightness in your stomach is, what the giddy feeling resonating through you whenever the male smiles at you is. You know that thinking about someone constantly, more so before you sleep, isn’t an usual occurrence with someone you pay no attention to, with someone you don’t care about. You’ve been in love before– with the same man that’s standing right in front of you as well, funnily enough. You know what this all means.

But with how he’s inviting you in, letting you into his little bubble, you think it’s not as bad of a thing. He’s not pushing you away. He’s not building bridges. He’s the same way he was all those years ago, and you’d hate to find out that all of this wasn’t something more and was just him being nice.

“Well, that’s good to hear,” he chuckles, wiping his hands on the apron still tied around his waist. “I’m off in a few, though, so if you want anything from the bakery–”

“I’m not here for the food,” you laugh, dismissing him with a wave of your hand. The boldness is unusual for the present you– there’s a hint of your past shining through whenever you are with the boy, though. Maybe you like this sense of familiarity. Maybe you like to feel real again– maybe you like to feel like yourself. It’s hard to admit it, but you did lose your sense of identity after moving abroad. It’s hard to stay true to yourself with so many new people around and with so many expectations and responsibilities. The pressure changes you, and you now rely on Kim Sunwoo to bring you back to default– to where you’re supposed to be.

“Okay, then,” he nods, thankfully not making a big deal out of your desperate visit, “what would you like to do?” he asks, eyes sparkling under the lights when he looks at you. It’s like an open invitation– he gives you the chance to tell him how you’d like to spend your time with him. He did this a lot when you two were younger as well. It felt good to have someone that would make the effort to enjoy your hobbies with you– no matter how disinterested he could be in the matter.

“Hang out… I guess…?” you hum, shrugging. You didn’t really have anything planned. All you knew was that you wanted to be with him. It’s like the heart’s calling– you don’t know when your inner monologue got so cliche.

“Anything specific?” he asks.

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you shake your head in disapproval. You fear that you disappointed him, let him down in some way– you came all the way here, after all. You could’ve made something up on the way, couldn’t you? But still– just like the Sunwoo you once knew, so lively and full of ideas– he just purses his lips for a second before speaking the suggestion into existence.

“Well… do you want to bake with me? Like the old times?” he says, sending you a look full of warm honey.

You wouldn’t say no to that invitation. You’d be crazy to do so.

The Kim Sunwoo you used to bake cookies with in the comfort of your kitchen back home wasn’t so skilled in making the dough like he is now. He wasn’t so good at knowing the recipe from memory, nor was he gifted with the kitchen appliances he has now, all professional and shiny, reserved just for the use of the bakery. You don’t really know if he even had the love for baking in him back then– you just know you two enjoyed your time together, and when you are young, that’s all you really cared about anyway. It didn’t matter that he let the cookies burn sometimes. It didn’t really matter that they didn’t turn out well on some days– all morphing into one big block, making you cut the dough into pieces so you could eat it when you accidentally added too much butter. 

He still looks the same, though. A few years older, but with the same boyish aura to him when he wipes dirty hands on his apron. All grown up now, but still with the same glint in his eye whenever he looks up at you in between your conversations. When you’re with him, you no longer feel the distance between who you are and who you used to be, the distance between you and him. It’s like the old days, but a little better.

Maybe you have more time now.

The two of you work on the cookie dough, enveloped in a comfortable conversation. “You have to add more sugar,” Sunwoo hums from next to you, watching as you work on the mixture.

“Isn’t it funny how I was the one always giving you directions when we baked together and now you’re the one ordering me around?” you laugh, taking the sugar from the counter and sprinkling more in, listening to the opinion of a professional.

“Well, my cookies don’t turn into one big blob of dough anymore,” he jokes, laughing. “Besides, it’s my job now, so you’d kind of expect me to be good at it.”

“You can’t be so sure of that…” you hum, shaking your head.

“Why? Do you have any experience with being bad at your job?” 

“Oh you bet I do,” you laugh, nodding. “I was an intern before, Sunwoo. A colleague of mine once tried to console me by saying being an intern means being bad at the job, so it wasn’t that big of a deal, but I still cried myself to sleep multiple nights,” you conclude, thinking back to your New York endeavors.

“That bad?” Sunwoo asks empathetically.

“Yeah. Mixed up everyone’s coffee order on my first day. When I was confronted about it, I tried to play it off by saying I don’t have a good memory…” you muse.

“Well, it’s hard to remember a lot of stuff at once, to be fair–”

“I was getting coffee for three people, Sunwoo. Objectively speaking, it shouldn’t be as hard…” you say, now thinking back to the events of your internship with more humor than embarrassment.

Sunwoo laughs at your story, shaking his head in disbelief. “Not worse than my teammate back in Boston. The first match of the season, he scored a goal against our own team. His reasoning? He used to play against the goalie back in high school, so he got confused.”

The boy takes over at making the dough once it’s the turn to add in the chocolate chips, glancing at you momentarily when you laugh at his anecdote. Watching him from the side, you heave out through your laughs. “That’s actually hilarious,” you get out, washing your hands in the sink. “What about some funny stories about yourself, though?”

“Don’t have any. I’m too perfect to humiliate myself like that,” he notes, pressing his lips together and raising his eyebrows at you in an ironic expression, nodding.

“Oh, as if–”

“How is it?” he asks you suddenly in the middle of the sentence, seemingly done with kneading the mixture. Sunwoo puts the cookie dough in front of your lips, waiting for you to taste it. You’d do it all the time when you were both teenagers, but back then, the gesture didn’t feel half as intimate as the mere image of it does now.

Locking eyes with the male, you hesitantly open your mouth and let him put the dough into it, tasting the sweetness on your tongue. Sunwoo’s eyes darken, as if he’s just realized what he’s done, the weight of the situation falling down on him as your tongue comes in contact with the skin of his fingertips. Gulping, he watches as you suck the tip of his digit into your mouth, getting all last remains of the sweetness off of it, something in the air shifting towards a direction you didn’t expect from tonight.

“Good,” you nod, licking your lips, “delicious.”

Seconds turn to what feels like eternities as you stop all motion and look into each other’s eyes, finding any hint of disapproval with the so obvious turn of events. His chocolate orbs peer into yours, making you ignite with something close to an urge you can’t control, his eyes anchoring themselves to the curve of your lips when you decide to let go of all anxiety and insecurities and just go for it. The cookie dough was sweet, but you’ve never tasted anything sweeter than Sunwoo’s lips. You might just have to refresh your mind, you think.

Leaning closer to him, your breathing mixing in the few centimeters left between your mouths, you relish in the déja vu this action brings you. It feels like yesterday, yet also centuries ago since you last kissed the male, and although you’re sure you enjoyed it back then, you wish you could’ve told the younger you to kiss him more often, more firmly, with more passion, maybe even sooner. For longer. 

Pressing your lips against his first, almost like always– since Kim Sunwoo was a bit shy with his kisses when you were both just high school seniors– your eyes shut close and everything around you disappears. You guess there’s something about baking that makes the two of you want to feed off each other’s lips– except this time, it’s not practice anymore. It’s not innocent, it’s not clueless. This time, it’s real, alive and passionate. You can’t say you hate the sentiment, the weird parallel your relationship has come to. It’s like you’re reliving your life again, but this time, you know how the story ends– you know how to fix the ending. How to keep him here.

Sunwoo’s more experienced than he was when you kissed him for the first time. He’s less shy and more bold, lips firmer against yours, but still careful and gentle. His hand comes up to cradle your jaw and position you so he has the best access to your mouth as he slips his tongue in, as if chasing down the taste of cookie dough he fed you just a few seconds ago, and although you liked to battle him when you were young, you let him win this time– you let him take you home, bring your mind to where it’s supposed to be.

Hands gripping the front of his shirt, but immediately going to circle around his neck when a particular movement of his makes you moan slightly into his mouth, you play with the hair on his nape and feel him shuddering under your movements, an automatic response that makes fondness spread over your chest. Everything about him is familiar to you– he still reacts the same way to your tender ministrations, he still smiles against your lips when you tangle your fingers through his hair and want to ground yourself in the touch. 

You know him like the palm of your hand. It’s easy to get lost in something you are so familiar with, in someone that was once your everything. It’s easy to indulge too much in something that was forcefully taken from you, to get right back where you left with him, because time and circumstances were never on your side.

A touch of his hand on the side of your neck, lips trailing down your mouth towards your jaw. The boldness, the urgency of his movements is enough to have you turn your back against the counter, his body pressed tightly against yours. His palms under the backside of your knees have you sitting up on the cold marble, his lips never breaking away from your skin. 

You’re enjoying the shift in the dynamic. You’re enchanted with the way he handles you, like he’s been starved of you for years, wanting to chase down all the time you spent away from each other. Breathing heavily, feeling his plush lips sucking down on the sweet spot under your ear, then trailing down the side until he reaches the juncture of your neck, an involuntary “God…” slips past your mouth.

“I missed you,” he says, words muffling against your skin, “I missed you so much, I felt like I was going crazy.”

The confession makes you dizzy, your whole body growing weak. It’s like he knows exactly what words you wanted to hear. It’s like he knows what haunted you all those years, what you kept asking the universe on sleepless nights over and over, praying for an answer. It’s like he knows exactly how to get you close to him, to have you completely let go of the past. 

“I missed your jokes,” he says, planting a kiss on your neck. “I missed your smile,” he presses another one a little more up, “I missed your laugh,” another kiss, now on your jaw. “I missed holding your hand,” a peck planted to the corner of your lips, “and I missed kissing you…” he trails off, pointing his attention back on your mouth, locking the two of you together again, as if kissing you was his new addiction and you were the drug.

Sunwoo’s hot hand creeps up your waist, fingers slipping under the thin fabric of your tank top. The contact makes you shiver in response, your bodies still as responsive to each other as back when you were 19, and when you tug at his bottom lip with your teeth and slip your tongue back into his mouth, you feel the boy tug at the right strap of your top, sliding it down your shoulder. You’re barely registering the bowl of dough to your right, the fact that you’re in the kitchen of Juyeon’s parent’s bakery, or the fact that you only just met the boy two weeks ago for the first time in years. All you focus on is him– his touch, his taste, the way he makes you feel. All you know is longing. The desire.

Before you have the chance to take anything further, the sound of the door opening makes you jump away from each other– your head almost hitting the top cabinets, had Sunwoo not instinctively put his hand there to shield you from the impact. Before you get a chance to register what’s happening, a familiar voice calls for you, their tone a little guilty and bashful. 

“Oh, I didn’t mean to interrupt, or anything–” Juyeon peeps, clearing his throat. 

Glancing at Sunwoo, you see his cheeks redden at being caught by his older friend, yet his eyes still roll in annoyance at the interruption. You can’t help but try to hide your face into his shoulder– it’s not like you’re embarrassed of being with Sunwoo, you’re just embarrassed that it had to happen here, of all places.

“Well, you just did,” Sunwoo grunts, frustration coating his words.

“I’m just here to grab something,” Juyeon hums, almost racing through the room to get to the fridge on the other side of the kitchen, taking out a carton of milk from the inside and showing it to the two of you. “This is gonna go bad soon, so I’m taking it home to use it. Uhm.. anyways, well, don’t let me stop you in anything… bye!”

Neither of you greet the male back, instead sharing a meaningful, knowing look between each other. The view of your first boyfriend with his lips puffy, cheeks flushed and hair a little disheveled makes your senses go crazy, and although you’d like to continue what you started, you don’t think now is the right time or place.

Hopping off the counter, you smile. “So… where were we with the cookies?”

to. my first girlfriend

May 2000

Eyes trained on the ball, feet restless as he runs across the field to retrieve it and pass it to one of the shooters– either Donghyuck or Jinyoung, the more capable ones of the team– Sunwoo finds himself completely focused on the game. It’s one of the last matches of the season, and since he doesn’t know if he’s ever going to play his favorite sport again– he hasn’t received a verdict on the university applications he sent yet– the boy figures he should enjoy each game like it’s the last. Because who knows– one day, it may as well be, and if he’s not prepared for it, if he has any regrets, he knows he’ll take it harder than he’s supposed to.

Kim Sunwoo’s position in football is midfielder. While Eric once told him that it’s a loser position, since he’s not the shooter and he doesn’t score many goals (which is a lie– the boy had him know he scored his fair share despite his defensive position on the field), Sunwoo’s grown to love it. He’s the one that’s supposed to counter all attacks on his teammates. He’s the one that runs after the ball and passes it to the shooters, so technically, he’s the reason why any of them even have the opportunity to score. His position is as important as any other player's, and he takes pride in the compliments he gets from his coach whenever he does particularly well at a game. 

Sunwoo loves football. He’d say his first love is football, but something inside of him keeps telling him that that’s a lie (don’t ask him why. It’s a secret.). It’s the first game he’s ever been exceptionally good at, the first thing he could do for periods longer than a few weeks. He’s been playing with the ball since he was young, and although he never had a father to kick the football around with in his backyard, his sister was always happy to be included in anything he was into at the time– when she got older, she even got better at being his designated goalie, although less interested in the play itself. Sunwoo feels like he lets go of all worries when he plays. It’s good to have an escape, something to keep his mind occupied. He doesn’t have many things to worry about, but he finds that kicking the ball around, making strategies in his brain on how to get it to his teammates the fastest, is enough for him to get out both his frustration and get something nice out of it. He enjoys the thrill. He enjoys the excitement, the shared joy of the team whenever someone scores a goal. He is addicted to the ecstasy in his veins whenever his team wins.

It was easy to determine that if Sunwoo wanted to do anything for the rest of his life, it would be football. It’s what he enjoys, what he loves. It’s what he’s good at. 

It’s strange to imagine a time when he wouldn’t play football. He doesn’t even want to imagine it in the first place– it makes a chill run down his spine and an unsettling feeling churn in his stomach. In a perfect world, he’s always a football player.

Everyone keeps telling him he could easily make it professional, if he tried. 

Football is how he met most of his friends. It’s how he met Juyeon– he was the captain of the high school team when Sunwoo was a sophomore, and he found that hanging out with the older boy was easy and fun. It’s how he met Donghyuck and Jihoon (before the latter dropped out of the team after a few months). It’s how he met you. 

His coach always warned the players about dating the cheerleaders. For his coach, it wasn’t right to do so– it would throw off the dynamic of the game. “Nobody wants their ex to stare at them during their game!” the coach had said– not even thinking of the possibility of any of those teenage romances to last. Sunwoo only laughed back then. It wasn’t something he should be afraid of– he never liked anyone on the cheer team.

Until… until he did. Sunwoo met you on one sunny day, at your joint cheer-slash-football practice. You pointed out that the number on his jersey– 03– was your favorite, and the boy felt himself smile. Ever since then, he never wore any other number. He considered it to be his lucky charm. What started as friendship blossomed into something much more for the boy, and somehow, he can’t even remember when the feelings he had for you morphed into adoration. He doesn’t know when they shifted Into absolute enchantment, or Into a silly crush– he doesn’t know when he started seeing you in a light that was more romantic.

Wearing your favorite number on his back, Sunwoo runs towards the opposing player. There’s something akin to an angry face playing with the man’s features, and Sunwoo imagines it’s because of the very clear lead his team has on them. Sunwoo makes sure he doesn’t slip as he tackles the opposing player– he swears he heard someone call the shooter Jaechan– and as soon as he secures the ball, Sunwoo aims to forward it to his teammate.

The screams resonating all around him– although he tries hard to filter them out to focus on the game completely– suggest that it’s only a few moments before the game is over. It wouldn’t matter even if they didn’t score the goal, but something inside of Sunwoo’s heart leaps at the thought of winning with such a lead. The boyish excitement only grows when he watches Donghyuck retrieve the goal and run towards the goalpost, neon-orange sneakers shining through the green grass.

“Come on!” Sunwoo cheers, a hopeful spark lighting within him as the boy prepares to shoot, eyes quickly scanning the field.

And Lee Donghyuck almost never lets him down. Maybe that’s why he liked the boy so much in the first place– Sunwoo didn’t like players that dismissed the chance he won for them. He liked the skillful ones. The ones that knew what they were doing. (He also liked Donghyuck’s humor. He found himself grateful to have a friend so funny. He made even losing feel like it wasn’t such a big deal.) 

Choosing the golden shooter proved to be a good idea once again– Donghyuck, number 35, shoots for the goal and the ball gets in. Seconds after, the sound of a whistle is heard across the place, the game over with Sunwoo’s team winning 4:1.

Everyone cheers– yells from the audience are heard, excitement reeking through the air. The whole football team gathers around, sweaty bodies sticking together as they perform some sort of a cliche group hug, arms patting each other’s backs and complimenting each other’s play. 

The commotion dissolves shortly after. Sunwoo finds himself trying to catch his breath, eyes looking across the space for someone in particular. His heart leaps even harder when he finds you standing at the edge of the field in your cheer uniform, a big smile plastered on your face. Your eyes are glimmering as they meet with his. Your hair is a little tousled from the routine you just finished doing and there are smears and smudges on your cheeks from the face paint you used to symbolize the team’s colors– blue and gold. Over-all, you look ecstatic.

Sunwoo finds himself running over to you before he even registers that he’s going to do it. He’s like a fast, unguided missile, the goal of getting to you as fast as possible being the only thing resonating through his excited mind.

“Good jo-” you grunt as the boy finally gets to you, words cutting off when he (maybe a little harshly) puts his arms around your middle and picks you up, twirling you around. You screech a little into his ear and he finds himself laughing at your reaction. It’s like a runner's high– he feels like right now, he is capable of everything. 

“Okay! Okay! Put me down!” you laugh when you start to get a little dizzy. The boy complies, since he’s running out of strength to carry you anyways, and puts you back to your feet. His arms stay tightly wrapped around your body, though, locking you into a secure hug. 

“We won!” he cheers, the brightest grin settling to his lips as he announces the obvious. 

You beam at him, eyes soft and crinckled into little moon crescents, a dumbfounded smile playing with your features. “I know, Sherlock,” you dismiss him again with the teasing nickname, shaking your head in disbelief, “I was here. Cheering for you,” you say.

And sure, Sunwoo knows that by you, you don’t necessarily mean him in particular– more like cheering for the whole team, the whole 11 players on the field– but something about the sentiment makes his stomach feel all light and a slight blush spread over his glowing cheeks. You were here– cheering for him (and his team) – and although you’re here out of your own will, out of your own devotion to your hobby, he somehow feels grateful for your presence. You never miss a game. You went even when you caught the flu and felt too sick to do your cheer routine– you just sat on the bench and rooted for your best friend. (The team lost that match. Sunwoo felt a little bad for tugging you out of your bed for it.)

The boy studies your face for a while. You look perfectly content in his hold. You fit perfectly into his arms, he thinks– almost like you’re supposed to be there all the time. He should hug you more often, he decides. Sunwoo foolishly finds himself focusing onto your lips– he blames the shiny lipgloss you put on today– the words coming out of your mouth not quite registering in his brain. “As I was saying, good job! The whole team, but you especially. Don’t tell anyone, but I think you really shined in this game. I’m really prou–”

A single peck is pressed to your glossy, sticky lips, cutting you off in the middle of the sentence yet again. Sunwoo surprises himself with the gesture– he was always too shy to initiate something with you, too hesitant to even touch you sometimes– but the euphoria is still playing with his senses, clouding his brain. He doesn’t think of consequences.

He can’t control himself anymore. It’s been weeks since you two kissed for the first time– exactly 4 and a half weeks since you taught him how to do so– and since that afternoon, he found himself thinking about it every single day, every single minute, all. The. Time. You two haven’t spoken about it since, making the poor boy a little disappointed, but he respected your decision. He knew that you didn’t particularly reciprocate his feelings, but he still expected your dynamic to shift. At least a little bit. 

And although he should’ve been glad nothing changed and your friendship didn’t crumble because of a simple kiss, he found himself desiring to kiss you every time he saw your face. 

You peer at him with eyes wide open, mouth a little agape. Sunwoo doesn’t really know how to read your reaction– you didn’t look particularly happy, but you also didn’t push him away– and so in the moment of panic, he begins to backtrack, his arms untangling from your sides.

“I- I’m sorry if I overstepped any boundary, or if I–”

You’re not fans of letting each other finish their sentences today, it seems. Before Sunwoo gets a chance to put a bigger distance between the two of you, he watches as you get on your tippy-toes and press a tender kiss on his lips– more firmer than the one he dared to give you, a little bit longer, yet still sweetly short. There’s something soft and gentle in your gaze when you pull away and press another peck onto his face– the tip of his nose this time– and Sunwoo almost physically feels his knees turning into jello, his own celebratory firework show erupting in the pits of his stomach.

“So, as I was saying,” you hum, hugging the boy around his neck, “you did well. You looked good out there,” you peep, the sparks in your eyes making Sunwoo’s skin burn with their contact.

That day, you teach him that to be loved is to have someone sharing your achievements with. To be loved is to be adored, to be loved is to have someone watching you and cheering you on, to have someone to run to with good news.

Kim Sunwoo’s football team won the match, but the boy thinks that perhaps, that day, he won something even greater.

to. my first lover

August 2000

The admission papers arrive at his house the morning he’s supposed to sleep over at your house. Your parents decided to take a trip to your aunt’s place for two days, so you invite the boy into the comfort of your home for the weekend– as far as Sunwoo’s mother is concerned, he’s sleeping over at Juyeon’s. He doesn’t have the boy covering him, but he’s also sure his mother won’t try to check if he’s telling her the truth. He’s not banned from having a girlfriend– he just doesn’t want his mum to get any wrong ideas.

He finds the envelope in the mailbox when he comes home from school, and something in his stomach drops when he sees the american stamp on the top right corner of the white paper. He debates on opening it, but every time he hypes himself up enough to tear the top of the envelope off, a little anxious voice on his inside tells him to wait. 

Although reluctant to admit it to himself, Sunwoo is a little scared to see the result of his university application. Before he leaves for your house, he puts the envelope into the front pocket of his backpack and tries to forget about it. It works a bit better when he sees your face, hears your laugh– when he spends time with you and you two play the new board game you got from your cousin. Still, the weight of the envelope keeps bugging him in his mind no matter how hard he tries forgetting about it, and you finally notice (or finally bring it up after hours of ignoring his weird mood) when the two of you lay together in your bed in the evening, both facing the ceiling.

“Is everything alright?” you ask. 

“Hm?” Sunwoo hums, lost in thought. “Oh, yeah,” he nods, “don’t worry.”

You don’t seem convinced. Shuffling a little in your sheets, you turn towards him and move your body closer to his, your arm suddenly draping over his middle. A tender kiss is placed on his temple, almost making him crumble under the gentle care, and your voice earns a concerned kind of timbre when you speak to him. “You can tell me,” you hum, “boyfriends and girlfriends are supposed to tell each other things.”

Boyfriends and girlfriends. Sunwoo feels himself soften under the possessive title. It has been close to 4 months of you dating– starting with the winning match in April, progressing slowly through the summer break– but the fact that you’re his partner is still a little unbelievable to him. Sometimes, when he hears you call him your boyfriend, he still gets a little bashful. He still feels like he’s been told the greatest news of his life. 

Maybe it’s the nature of this sentiment that has him slowly unraveling to you. And maybe, it’s because he’d tell you anyways– you’d be the first to know. He was just waiting for the right time to bring it up.

“The reply to my university application came in the mail this morning…” he trails off, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

You plop up on your elbow, watching the boy from above. Eyes big, you peer into his face. “And?” you ask, an expecting gaze glazing his features.

“I… I don’t know,” he shrugs, “I was too scared to open it alone.”

“O-Oh,” you nod, furrowing your brows at him, “well, it’s okay to be scared. I believe in you, but even if it doesn’t go the way you wanted it to, I’m still proud of you for trying,” you say, a gentle tone of voice cooing at him, like the nature of the way you play with his hair, wanting to make the boy relax from his anxieties.

“I have the letter here with me,” he says, swallowing, “in my bag.”

“Do you want to open it together?” you ask, watching as the boy nods.

He’s getting off the bed in no time, wearing just sweatpants and a baggy shirt to sleep in, grabbing his bag from the corner of your room and unzipping the small compartment at the front. His fingers take the envelope out, legs walking him over back to your bed, your figure now sitting against the headboard. Sunwoo finds himself mirroring your position as his fingers turn the little white thing in his hold with much stumbling, preparing himself for whatever answer awaits him inside.

Glancing at you, seeing you looking at him with an encouraging expression on your face, Sunwoo takes a big breath in and out to calm his nerves before he tears the top open and takes out the expensive-feeling paper. Not stopping his actions anymore, knowing that if he takes another moment to himself, he won’t be able to read the letter, he unravels the note and lets his eyes skim over the words.

Before he even has a chance to register the sentences written down in the letter, before he can even let his mind accept the result he’s given– ‘we are pleased to announce that you were admitted to the athlete scholarship program…’– he feels a pair of arms wrapping around his shoulders, jolting him awake from his thoughts.

“You made it! Oh my god, you made it!” you cheer, excitement taking over your whole body as you shake the boy in your hold from side to side. The reality still isn’t quite settling in for him, so he just lets you do whatever you please– which includes all of the following: screaming incoherent words into his ear when you hug him closer to your chest, planting a kiss to his cheek and throwing your hands up into the air in a winning gesture. 

“You made it, Sunwoo,” you repeat, this time a little more collected.

Sunwoo finally allows himself to put the letter away and look into your eyes. “I made it,” he sighs, a soft smile playing with his features. 

“You did!” you nod, grinning back.

It’s strange. The first step towards Sunwoo’s dream is now complete. He got admitted to the university of his dreams– the one that’s good for athletes, the one that is supposed to shoot him towards stardom. He has the opportunity to take classes there and train with some of the best aspiring players in the whole world. He has the opportunity to move out of the country, live at dorms in Boston, and most importantly, he has everyone’s support. 

There’s nothing more a boy his age could want more. He has everything. His whole life ahead of him, only the brightest future waiting for him at the end– only if he keeps trying hard and improving. He’s happy. Don’t get him wrong– he really is. Somehow, though, it all feels a bit scary.

“What’s wrong? Aren’t you excited?” you ask, a pout taking over your once excited features. The amount of worries you have over Sunwoo gets bigger and bigger the older the two of you are. There are only so many things that can go wrong when you are a teenager, but now that you’re adulting, the list keeps getting longer.

“I am,” he nods, forcing a smile onto his lips.

“You don’t seem excited,” you argue.

“I am! I really am,” he says, trying to battle with himself.

“What is it?” 

“What is what?” 

“Come on, Sunwoo,” you sigh, “I can tell when something’s wrong. You don’t have to hide it from me, because I’ll know anyway. What is it?” you insist, staring the boy down with an examining look.

The boy sighs, shrugging to himself. “Well,” he starts, “the school is in America.”

“And?” you start, furrowing your eyebrows. “We knew that when you applied. Why is it such a problem now?” you ask, genuinely not grasping the whole situation.

Sunwoo chews on his cheek for a little while, plays with his fingers in his lap. A part of him is telling him that he both looks and seems foolish– because you’re right. It was his dream, he is excited, and this is good news. But still, there’s something he didn’t really think of when applying. Well, he did. He just thinks that the fact that him being accepted wasn’t really a realistic idea, no matter how hard he wished and prayed for it, so he didn’t have the need to think about it so seriously back then. Now it’s here, all real, and it’s a struggle he didn’t really grasp that he was going to have to go through.

“Well,” he starts again, still avoiding your eyes, “that means I have to move. And we won’t see each other for a while.”

There’s a heartbeat of silence following his confession– one in which he contemplates all possible reactions you might give him, some with truly catastrophic endings– but after what seems like eternities, he hears your soft, gentle voice. “Is that what’s making you so worried?” you ask.

“Kind of,” he nods, feeling his cheeks redden. You handle him with so much care– sometimes, he doesn’t know how to react.

“Awh,” you coo, taking his hand into yours, preventing him from picking at the skin of his cuticles until they bleed– an action he always does and you keep scolding him for. “Sunwoo, we knew about this when you applied. I am okay with you going away. Sure, it will suck, but it’s only for a little time, and I can come visit you there and you’ll show me around and stuff…”

Sunwoo presses a tight-lipped, hesitant smile to his lips. He feels reassured.

“And we’ll call, and it’s going to be fine, because this is good. This is good news, Sunwoo, and you’re gonna do great, and you’re gonna be a star, and I’ll be so, so proud of you,” you hum, voice tender and caring, doing your best at consoling the boy.

“I’m already so proud of you now, y’know?” you hum, squeezing his hand. “Everything will be alright, so don’t you worry.”

Sunwoo’s arms reach out to envelop you into a hug. He once again recognises how easily you fit into his arms, how perfectly you shape into his skin, and when he burrows his nose into your neck, breathing in your scent, he feels your lips reach into his hair, planting a soft kiss into it. Your words did more to the boy than only consult him– they gave him hope, they gave him joy, they made him feel like perhaps, this is not such a terrifying occurrence. And it really isn’t– it’s quite possibly the best thing that he’s ever achieved, and the circumstances of him leaving don’t seem as horrifying to him now. 

As long as he knows that you have his back, he thinks he can do anything. And what’s 3 years abroad against the 4 years he’s known you?

When you pull away, you press your lips against his, the contact making his muscles finally relax and his mind let go of all the worries. There’s suddenly nothing in the world that could make him falter, nothing that could make him worry or stress or fret or change his mind, because he has your support, and you’re here with him, promising him that you’ll always be right by his side, wherever he is.

Your mouth molds against his, the familiar motion of your lips against his still surprising him sometimes, still making him curious even after those months. He’s been dating you for some while, but he still likes to explore what makes you crumble under him, what makes you hum into the kiss, what makes you tug him closer to you– it’s a fun game to him, trying to figure you out completely. 

He still has some time, but it’s like he is trying to engrave those moments into his memory before he no longer can experience them first-hand as easily.

He goes out to explore again– his tongue gently inviting itself into your mouth with a swipe of your lower lip, relishing in the way your composure falters a little bit, letting him be in charge. You were always the more experienced one out of you two, so Sunwoo often shied away from being the one dominating intimate situations– afraid he’s not good enough, too inexperienced, too immature for you– but in the rare moments he does take the lead, your reactions give him a new source of confidence. 

His hand comes up to cradle your jaw, nose pressing against your cheek as he angles you so he has more access to your lips. Something about his ministrations makes you forget to breathe, breaking away from him in a search for much needed oxygen, but Sunwoo acts like he’s been starved of you, latching his lips to the trail from your mouth towards your neck, planting open-mouthed kisses to your soft skin. He faintly remembers the time you gave him a lovebite that one time you came over to his house to work on homework together, sucking and biting at his neck (and although he enjoyed seeing the possessive bruise on his skin whenever he saw himself in the mirror, he wore the strings of his hoodies tightly tied to his neck, shielding him from being teased by everyone– but mostly Eric). He tries to mirror your motions, recreating the action to the best of his abilities.

He hears you grunt, making him fear that he’s doing it wrong– a momentarily panic settling in his chest screaming at him that he hurt you– but the worries are quickly dismissed as you move impossibly closer to the boy, straddling his lap and threading your fingers through his hair, keeping him close. 

Humming under his touch, Sunwoo gets a kick from hearing the sounds coming out of your mouth. It’s like a reward– it’s like the praise he goes after his whole life, like validation of his actions being satisfactory for you. The pressure of your body against his lap makes him feel hot all over, sweaty hands holding you by your sides. Every slightest shift of your figure against his makes him shudder, composure faltering when you move in a way that has his breathing particularly quicken, a bundle of nerves forming in his stomach from the newly found hypersensitivity. There’s only so much fabric shielding the two of you from each other, and just the thought of it is slowly driving the boy crazy.

Pulling away from your neck, admiring the artwork he managed to portray on your skin, he feels you pulling him up to meet your lips again, heated, firm kisses shared in the silence of the room. He feels your hands resting on his abdomen, feeling him up for a moment before you sneak them under the hem of his shirt, dragging your nails against his skin. 

Sunwoo hears a sound escape his throat at the contact, making him instantly feel foolish– until he feels you smile against his lips, following your ministrations by mirroring his previous actions and kissing down his neck, finding all the spots that make him the most reactive– like the place under his ear, the juncture of his shoulder. You revisit all the places you’ve tested before and perfected your aim to make him efficiently crumble under you. Sunwoo finds himself losing the initial control he had over the situation, instead letting you take over and lead him, much like you’ve done in most areas of his life. He likes to be your follower. He likes to see where you want him, where you need him, he likes to comply. It’s more comfortable for him this way. It makes him swell with pride when he makes you happy.

Another shift of your hips against him has Sunwoo digging his fingers to your side, whole body feeling like it’s electrified under your touch. Placing a soft peck to the spot you’ve had your attention on, you mumble into his skin. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Sunwoo swallows, noticing you leaning your forehead against his tenderly, eyes meeting. 

“Are you sure?”

He nods. He’s never been more sure about anything in his life– he enjoys your company, he loves your touch, the way you make his every sense heighten, his heart beat quicker. Still, he feels a bit nervous at the prospected events. “I just– I’ve never done this before,” Sunwoo whispers the obvious, watching as you carefully observe him.

“Sweetheart,” you tenderly call, placing a soft peck to his lips. “That’s okay. Me neither, but we could… we could try and see where this leads us, if you’d like?”

The sweet pet name alone makes the boy let go of all his worries, of the stress and nerves he’s been holding on to for the past few weeks. You hold him like he’s going to break, and Sunwoo’s never felt so loved before. You reassure him that it’s going to be okay. You are there to remind him that life isn’t so hard, as long as you’re by his side.

“Okay,” he nods, smiling at you. 

“Okay,” you repeat, holding his face in your hands as you kiss him again– it may as well be for the thousandth time. Truth is, while he tried to keep up at first, Sunwoo lost count a long time ago.

Everything there is to know about love, Kim Sunwoo learned from you. You showed him the childlike playfulness during your dates. You taught him how to kiss, only to take advantage of his newly found skills and keep them all for yourself. You showed him what it is to share joys, dreams, but also worries together. You were his first crush, date, relationship– and now, his first lover.

In the comfort of your childhood bedroom, holding you closer than ever, Sunwoo dreams of eternity with you. He doesn’t realize what a foolish thought it might be. Somehow, he’s got a feeling that no matter what it is, you two will figure it out. You always do.

to. my first love

September 2000

Muscles sore and whole body heaving in pain, Sunwoo trails inside the small bungalow the university gave him as student accommodation, dropping his duffel bag to the floor. His face is pulled into a small frown as he enters the house and his roommate can’t help but notice. “Everything alright?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Sunwoo hums, nodding at the question. He has 3 assigned roommates– all male, all around his age. Sunwoo’s english isn’t bad, but it also isn’t that great either. He knew that this was going to be one of the main concerns of him moving out abroad, but he figured that the more you encounter the language, the more comfortable you get with it. Due to this, though, the two American boys he rooms with– their names are Josh and Sam– aren’t as close with him. Sunwoo doesn’t really blame them. It’s not like he tried to get close with them anyway. He talks much more with Mark, the one year older boy that’s also Korean, but has been living in the States for years now. The language barrier is nearly nonexistent there, and so he feels much more comfortable.

Not comfortable enough to vent to him about his problems, though. It’s good to share a laugh with Mark when they eat breakfast together in the kitchen, but he won’t go on and talk his ear off about his homesickness, for example. Sunwoo wouldn’t talk to him about the weird, unsettling feeling in his gut whenever he takes the bus or walks down the street, not recognising every face he encounters like he did back home, in his small town. He won’t tell Mark Lee about how much he misses Korea– he’s sure the boy has his own things to worry about. Besides, it’s not like Mark talks about personal stuff with him either. After four days of living here, he can’t say their relationship got to the level of going deep with their personal lives.

And so, Sunwoo walks up the stairs in silence, not giving Mark more information about his mood. Each step up hurts, since the training is twice as demanding as it used to be at home, making his muscles sore and his back hurt terribly from the stone hard mattress in the bed of his new home. He is willing to endure it, but he also has the terrific need to complain about it to anyone that would be willing to listen.

He should start writing a diary, he thinks as he stares up on the ceiling, chewing on the inside of his cheek. It sounds good enough to channel his feelings out into while also not being a bother to anyone else. Besides, he doesn’t want anyone to know that he’s having a hard time here in Boston. This was all his decision, his dream, and sometimes, things are going to get difficult. And that’s okay. Sunwoo just… feels like he lacks the support system he once had back home in Korea. Like someone took it from between his fingertips, forcefully kept it away from him, locked somewhere miles away. Maybe the person who did that to him was himself all along…

Which is why he doesn’t deserve to whine about the fact that he feels terribly lonely. He did this to himself. All him.

If he had a diary, he’d write about the terrible mattress first, he thinks. Then, the weird weather around here– it’s always hot, but not humid. It doesn’t rain as much. He kind of misses the rain. 

If he had a diary, he’d write about how he misses his old coach. The high school coach that always made sure the game was fun, yet productive. He misses his teammates as well. Their team never did big things, but he felt like they were some sort of a family. They knew each other well on the field. They had chemistry. They had fun.

He’d write about how he misses his annoying little sister. How he wishes she would appear in the doorway of his room and talked to him about the stickers she still collects, or dragged him to make another friendship bracelet together. How he feels bad for leaving her all alone back home, even though he was never the one to share his brotherly love for her so outwardly growing up. He feels a sort of appreciation for her that he didn’t quite understand when they were little. They are right when they say your sibling is your first best friend after all. 

He’d write about the second best friend he’s ever made, Eric. He’d write about how he longs for his presence, his encouraging words. His funny remarks, the pranks he’d pull on him. How he always appreciated him being just across the street, how he enjoyed growing up with him by his side.

He’d write about how much he misses you– perhaps the most out of everyone. There aren’t many words he could use to describe how much he wishes for your presence, and so he thinks the pages filled with sentences directed to you would be rather sparse, and it makes him kind of sad to think about. In his mind, you deserve novels written about you. You deserve love letters and poems and essays filled with every little detail of your existence. Maybe if Sunwoo loved you less, he would be able to talk about it more.

When his eyes go out of focus staring at the ceiling, Sunwoo decides to call you. It’s been 4 days since he arrived and he hasn’t spoken to you since you waved him off to the airport. His mother drove him and you couldn’t go to send him off at the gate, but Sunwoo almost thinks he prefers the fact that you only said goodbye to him in front of his house. It would be that much harder if he saw your face the last thing before boarding the plane. 

For the last four days, he’s been slowly settling in, taking in the new country and the new environment. He’d say he was just too busy to call, but that would be a lie.

He was just scared to hear your voice. Terribly.

What if you changed your mind? What if you no longer want to stay with him? What if it’s too hard to handle? And Sunwoo knows it’s hard– hell, it’s the most difficult thing he’s ever done– but all he wishes is for you to keep handling it well. To keep his heart in your hands gently, like you always have, sending him your energy.

He figures that if there’s one thing that can help his growing homesickness, it is to hear your voice. 

Sitting up from his bed and walking over to the bag he carried with him through the airport and kept with him on the plane, he scrambles through the item to find the piece of paper you forced into his hand on the driveway of his house. 

“We changed our landline yesterday, so call me on this number when you get there,” you said, pressing a kiss towards his cheek before you let him get into his mother’s car. Sunwoo promised to call back then– he hopes you don’t mind the delay. Maybe he could blame the timezones…

Hand thrusting into the front pocket of the bag, Sunwoo feels around and tries to fish out the little piece of paper. He’s 100% certain he put it there after he got into the car with his mum, making sure it’s safe and sound. He would hate to lose it– it was some sort of safety net for him. Something to fall back to, something to keep him above the water.

Panic settles in his chest when he doesn’t feel the soft piece of paper anywhere. The boy unzips all other compartments of the bag, turning it around, shaking out everything that’s inside. The phone number to your new landline has to be there somewhere in there. It needs to be.

When he doesn’t find it in his bag, he opens his closet. He throws everything out to the ground– his clothing, his shoes, the notebooks he bought for university– all in the search of the stupid, little, yet so important piece of paper. He searches through all his other bags. All pockets of his jeans, every centimeter of his folded clothing. All drawers of his desk, the whole floor, hell, he even crouches to check under his bed, blowing the dust bunnies out of reach, desperately hoping he could wish the paper into existence. He searches his bed. All possible parts where the landline number could be– some more unreasonable than others. Sunwoo feels like he is losing his mind.

The paper is nowhere in his room. It’s like it vanished. Was it really there at all? Did he dream that moment up?

Running down the stairs towards the landline, he takes the phone off the wall and punches in the numbers to your old landline, the pattern so familiar in his fingertips he couldn’t tell you the number if you asked, but he could recreate it with punching in the buttons in on any other phone in the world. He clenches his fist together, breathing more heavily as he listens in, praying for the universe to stop playing tricks on him and make you magically answer on the other side.

When the phone makes a dismissive sound, signaling that the number he called no longer exists, Sunwoo shuts the phone against the wall and takes it again, putting in your old number once more, like a summoning ritual. Maybe he put the numbers in wrong the first time… Maybe he made a mistake somewhere along the way…

When he gets the same response, he tries again. And again. And again. 

He can’t believe it. Tension settles into his shoulders, making him twirl the cord of the landline in between his fingers as a way to calm himself down, listening in to the dull noise on the other side telling him there’s nothing that can be done, nothing more that he can do. He doesn’t have the number, and somehow, although it sounds foolish, it feels like he lost you alongside it too. 

“Everything alright, man? You look–” Mark enters the room, peering at the boy with curious, worried eyes. It’s only now that Sunwoo realizes he is breathing heavily, fingers clammy on the cord, heart begging to run out of his chest to get all across the ocean to you. It’s only now that he realizes his cheeks are wet with tears, the solidification of his inner turmoil taking a physical form and appearing on his face, making him feel pathetic in front of the older boy.

Sunwoo once again puts the phone back to its original place, but this time, he doesn’t take it back and tries the useless old phone number again. Simply turning away from his roommate, he accepts his fate as he quickly puts on his shoes and slams the door shut after him, going out for a run.

Is this his punishment for waiting too long? Did the paper vanish out of his possession because he was deemed unworthy of hearing your voice? Should he have tried to look for the number earlier? Would this have prevented it?

It’s hard to run when your nose is stuffed and your breathing hitches with silenced sobs, he learns. Sunwoo doesn’t get as far as he would have liked, crumbling on a bench somewhere next to a playground, picking at the dry skin of his lips until they bleed and the irony taste on his tongue snaps him back into reality.

What was once his dream is starting to feel more like a nightmare. When he calls Eric two days after to ask him to get him your new landline number, he gets the news that you abruptly moved out to New York. 

September 2007

“If you really think about it, Y/N,” Sunwoo hums, making you shift your attention towards his serious-looking face, “we never really broke up in the first place.”

The boy is holding a bottle of cider in his hand, one of the four you got on your way to your tonight’s destination. Sunwoo rang the bell to your house a few minutes before 10 PM, and although you weren’t expecting to see him that day and you weren’t even looking as presentable as you’d like, you agreed to take a walk with him. Somehow, the two of you found yourselves climbing over the fence of your old high school, sneaking into the football field, figures settling on one of the benches of the tribune.

“Oh yeah,” you hum, lightness evident in your tone, “you just never called. What’s up with that, by the way?” you ask, snickering when you watch the male avert his gaze in a bashful manner, as if he was embarrassed to tell you his reasoning.

You take a sip of the apple cider, enjoying the sweet, fruity taste on your tongue, watching as the male contemplates his next response for a bit, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “I lost your new landline number,” he peeps, voice barely louder than a whisper.

His answer doesn’t register immediately in your brain. The words take a moment to string themselves together into a sentence, taking another few seconds before you understand the meaning of his confession. A soft laugh drags out of your throat, disbelief coating your very essence. “What?”

“Yeah,” he nods, scratching the back of his neck before looking back at you, eyes full of guilt and shame, “I… I lost the number you gave me, and when I called Eric to try to make him get me your new number, he told me you moved to New York, and I guess… I guess I took it as a sign…?” he says, shrugging.

“A sign of what?” you ask, genuinely surprised to hear his answer.

All this time, you thought he didn’t call because he didn’t want to. You thought he didn’t call because he was too busy, too tired to deal with anything else other than his career at the moment. He was trying his hardest and training every day, so you understood that he wouldn’t have time for you every day. When he didn’t call for so long, even after you moved to the States as well– you hoped he’d somehow try searching for your number even then, because in your mind, everything was possible– one day, you just… stopped waiting for him to call. You stopped hoping you would hear his voice on the other side of the line.

And you accepted it. He realized long distance relationships were too difficult to maintain, especially in that time and age, and he had too many of his own worries to take care of before focusing his attention somewhere else. You didn’t resent him, no. You longed for him, you missed him, but you never once hated him for the decision he made. You wished him well, all this time. 

“A sign that… that maybe we weren’t meant to be,” he hums, shrugging. “It sounds stupid, really, but…” he trails off, cutting himself off in the middle of the sentence.

Something about his confession makes you feel a bit lighter. Your shoulders feel like there’s no longer anything weighing them down. It’s not like you waited for an explanation all those years and when you finally got one, something in you shifted into a more comfortable position.

“For me, back then, you were the right person, wrong time. And I didn’t want to let you go, I really didn’t, it’s just… everything was already so hard and the world seemed to put so many obstacles in my way of contacting you, that I thought it was the universe telling me to drop it and let you go. So you could… so you could find someone else, I guess…” he finishes explaining. He averts his gaze from you, pointing it towards the empty field, as if scared to see your reaction to his blabbering. He takes another few sips of his cider, snickering. “It wasn’t fair of me to want you to wait for me either.”

So you could find someone else… You think back to all the times you went on dates after you concluded that your relationship with Sunwoo was over. You try to remember their faces, their mannerisms in such detail that you could only make up one of your previous lovers– the one sitting next to you right now– and you chuckle at your foolishness. Remembering how you kept comparing every new person in your life to the one that stole your heart first, remembering how you thought about him late at night, wondering where he is right now and how he’s doing. You used to look through the sports parts of newspapers, looking for his name somewhere, looking for his team name, but never seeing a glance of how he was doing. You wore the stupid friendship bracelet he gave you in your junior year around in New York, having people point it out and ask about it, all until it broke off by itself  one day and you reluctantly said goodbye to the sentiment. 

You dated around after losing contact with Sunwoo. You don’t really think you found someone else, though. 

“I wanted to wait for you, though,” you say, shuffling closer to the male on the bench, voice sincere. “It was my decision.”

“Well,” he chuckles, “life had other plans for us two.”

His sentence makes you think. A few days ago, it would make you sad. Embarrassed, even. Life had other plans for you two and they didn’t align with what you two have calculated during the summer break after your senior year. Sunwoo didn’t become a star. His football career never took off. He finished his degree and came back home, bitter and heartbroken. 

Your plans ended just as fast as you came up with them. Not going to university after high school, you were left with nothing to do. When the opportunity to take an internship for a news company in New York came to you so suddenly, you took it without thinking, trying to find your place in the big world ahead of you. You had no plan, but you think that maybe, some part of you wanted to get away from your hometown all along. You wanted to do big things, make everyone proud. Being a news anchor wasn’t even something you dreamed of when you were little, so you guess you weren't supposed to really feel that let down, but the defeat still stings.

Or, at least, it used to. You find that the failure doesn’t hurt as much anymore. 

Looking at the male next to you, you think you know the reason why. “It’s okay,” you say, shrugging, “we figured it out anyways, didn’t we?”

“Yeah,” Sunwoo sighs, looking at you with a soft smile playing with his lips. “I guess we did.”

The sound of cicadas hits your ears when you two fall into a comfortable silence. Healing old wounds was surely one of the items on your check list when you came back home, but you didn’t expect to get over things so quickly. You don’t think you would have been able to get over everything alone, though– and this makes you twice as grateful to still have Sunwoo by your side. A sense of nostalgia takes over you at the fact, but this time, it hits you with more fondness than longing for the old times.

“Remember how young we were? It’s like I still see you chasing the ball around the field when I focus hard enough,” you say, pointing ahead of you.

Sunwoo laughs, shaking his head at your antics. “Yeah. I almost see you leading the cheer practice in the back there,” he points, “in your cute cheer uniform, with the ridiculous pom poms in your hands–”

“Hey, don’t call them ridiculous,” you gasp, “they were my favorite part of the whole routine!”

“Oh, I could tell,” he laughs, poking fun at you. 

“Well, you must have liked the pom poms enough to stare at me during practice all the time,” you shrug, teasing the male back. The fact that Sunwoo had a crush on you long before you reciprocated the feelings wasn’t something you two explicitly talked about before, but you always deemed as clear as day. Or, at least, it was to everyone back then.

“I did not–” he gasps, making you gently shove him with your elbow.

“Come on, everybody used to say you had a crush on me back then,” you hum, “you were pretty obvious with it too.”

“You knew?” he looks at you, eyes big and surprised. Gears clearly running in his head, he tries to piece the information together, running through the memories now so distant, but still so clear.

“Girls always know,” you point out, shrugging. You take another sip of your cider, licking your lips after and speaking up again, tone of voice almost confidential. “I just acted like I didn’t. But then I realized I liked you back, so I was trying everything in my power to make you confess to me first. Which… took you long enough, young man,” you giggle, seeing the male shake his head at you in disapproval.

“You could’ve confessed first, if you were so confident,” he mutters, obviously a little gutted by the revelation.

“That would be below my level,” you nod, pressing your lips together into a straight line, “besides, it was fun watching you act all cute and clueless.”

“Don’t call me cute and clueless–”

“That’s what you were, though! Like the time when you got super drunk on your birthday and begged me not to leave–”

“I didn’t even like you back then!”

“Sure you didn’t.”

“I was in denial,” he furrows his brows theatrically, putting the empty glass bottle to the grass, “but I see that you had a lot of fun watching me suffer.”

“Fine, pretty boy,” you say, catching a glimpse of the boy momentarily shying away, presumably at the endearing nickname, his cheeks tinting pink even in the faint moonlight. “Would it make you feel better if I confessed first this time?”

“Huh?” the boy asks, lips parted, eyes a big, honest pool of honey.

Cute and clueless, you think.

The story comes full circle when you realize that this football field is perhaps what started it all. This is where you ran up to the new addition to the team, saying that your favorite number was on the back of his jersey. As the leader of the cheerleading team, you took it as your job to make every newbie feel welcomed– no matter if they were a fellow cheerleader or a football player. You didn’t expect for the boy to never stop wearing the number– although it was your favorite, it didn’t seem to be so important back then. (One day, you learned that Sunwoo kept the number on his jersey even after moving abroad. You read it in one of the sports magazines you foolishly flipped through in every kiosk you encountered and almost teared up in the busy store after.) 

This field is where you watched him play football every week. It’s where you both practiced, sending each other funny faces after the coach was mean to either of you for not being focused on your training. 

This is where Sunwoo found his passion– where he found his dream. This is the place that shifted the next couple of years of your life towards all sorts of directions. This is where he kissed you after winning a match, a gleeful confession slipping past his lips. This is where your relationship started, and metaphorically, also ended. The field that kept you apart is now a thousand miles away, but the one that brought you together is now right in front of you.

You guess it’s only right to use it for new beginnings.

“I think… I think I’m still in love with you, Sunwoo,” you start slowly, playing with your fingers in your lap, “well, I don’t know if my feelings for you ever ended… they could’ve, I mean, we were apart for so long… I just… all I know is that I don’t want us to be apart anymore, and I–”

Your words die on your tongue when the boy cuts you off with a kiss, the taste of apple cider mixing on your lips. The way he kisses you didn’t really change even after so many years, still swaying you with the familiarity of his loving. Still, even though you know the way he angles your jaw, the way he presses against you, the way he takes his sweet time, truly showing you how much he enjoys the act, you never grow tired of it. Something in you reacts the same way as when you were young. There’s still excitement, there’s still tender softness in your heart every time you kiss him.

His lips break apart from yours, a playful tint in his words when he speaks to you again. “Don’t try to take credit for it now,” he says, “because the last time I checked, we never really broke up in the first place, so you could say we were dating all along, all because I confessed back in–”

“God, you’re unbelievable,” you grunt.

“But you love me,” the boy says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe it is.

“Always have,” you say, pressing a quick peck to his plush lips, “always will.”

The starlight glazes your cheekbones when you rest your forehead against his, as if to send him a telepathic message that is worth more than a thousand words. It’s hard to find the words to explain the mixture of your emotions right now, but when your memory washes up the encouraging monologue Sunwoo offered to you when you first arrived, you finally agree with his sentiment. Perhaps, one word could summarize it all– you feel truly content. 

They say you never forget about your first love. At 25 and still counting, you guess you could say that’s true.

#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

[ilwonuu]

I dont know if you do smut but here’s a request since you asked

SKZ (Felix, Chan, Binnie, and Hyunjin specifically) Smut after a seriously heated argument?

yes i do!!!! hehehe i hope you enjoy!!! i wanted to do hyunjin first<3 thank you for your request!!!

make up

જ⁀➴. hwang hyunjin

✼ pairing- established relationship, meanishdom!hyunjin x sub!reader, non!idol hyunnie

✼ warnings- arguing( they don’t say anything bad to each other), kissing, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, roughish sex, overstimulation, pet names, lmk if i missed anything!!!

✼ a/n- hi hi hiii im so happy with this actually <3 i hope u guys like it!!!

you and hyunjin rarely fight, especially like this. you two got into a heated fight because of your relationship. hyunjin stated he wasn’t ready to tell all your friends and family about your relationship.

you two have been dating for almost 4 months and hyunjin still feels the need to hide your relationship. you have had enough. you weren’t sure why he wanted to do this. it was eating away at you so you confronted him. he didn’t receive it well.

“hyunjin i’m so tired of not being able to post my boyfriend, i want everyone to know im with you! wh-why don’t you want that too?” you aren’t trying to yell but that’s how it came out with how upset you are.

“y/n why can’t you just wait until im ready? i just want to make sure we are together for awhile. i want to make sure it’s going good- i know it is! but i just don’t want to jump into this so fast.”

he sighs as stands up from where he was sitting to stand by you. “you want to make sure we are together for awhile. okay. i get that okay! but can at least understand where i’m coming from!”

you are trying to control your emotions as long as possible. all of your built up emotions pouring out of you. “y/n- no no no i understand you- i swear i just don’t appreciate how you are going on about this.” his gaze is fixed on you.

“how else was i supposed to do this? you never fucking bring it up and it’s like you don’t even care!” he scoffs at your words.

“like i don’t care? fuck y/n i care more than you think if you would just stop.” he sighs as he grabs your hand. “just come here.” he says again.

you deadpan for a moment then you move closer to him. you sigh into his touch as you try to calm down. his touch distracting you for a moment.

“hyunjin-“ you are cut off by a kiss. you want to fight his touch but you know how bad you just want him close to you. you deepen the kiss. hyunjin keeps kissing you as he lift’s you in his arms holding you against him.

you wrap your legs around his torso as you sloppily make out with him. he backs you against the wall. “baby- “ he sets you down to stand again. you leaning against the wall.

“shh want me to take care of you? fuck that little attitude out of you.” his eyes darkening as he wraps his hand around your neck gently to pull your face to kiss him.

“jinnie… touch me please.” you sigh as you look up to face him. “want me to take you right here?” his teasing voice along with his smirk. you just want to kiss his smirk right off his face.

“just fuck me jinnie. no more talking.” you mumble out as you pull his hoodie off of him seeing he doesn’t have anything under. your immediately pulling him to kiss you by his chain. making out with him against the wall.

you feel his hand start to unravel your pants causing them to fall to the floor. he rubs his fingers over your clothed folds to tease at you. kissing your jaw to your cheek. “so wet like a good girl huh?” he teases as your feel two of his fingers slide into your underwear to rub your clit.

your legs immediately buckling slightly at the pressure. “jinnie- m-more.” he just rubs your clit at an aching pace to tease you more.

he pushes his fingers inside of you. “o-oh please.” your eyes rolls back as starts to pump them a couple times inside of you.

he pulls them out without warning to bring them up to his mouth. sucking on them a little. “my good girl always taste so good. all for me.” he kisses your lips as you watch him pull his dick out of his shorts.

him stroking himself with a hiss as he turns his attention back to you. your gaze is fixed on your boyfriend as he moves your panties to the side.

“you think you can take it baby?” he taunts as he rubs his dick over your slit. you nod as you moan at the feeling. “p-please.” you cry out as you feel him slowly push into you.

his arm grabbing your leg to wrap around his waist. “f-uuck you’re such a good girl.” he bottoms out, waiting for the ok from you to move so he doesn’t hurt you. “let me know when darling.” he kisses your lips gently.

“m-move jinnie please.” you beg him and he doesn’t need to be told another time. hyunjin is roughly fucking you into the wall. “so f-fucking good shit.”

he groans as he continues to fuck you. you leaning up to kiss him in between your moans. “jinnie- want you- l-love you.” you blurt out the last part at how deep he is fucking you.

he just has a smirk on his face as he makes you fall apart on his dick. “i love you more.” he groans after as he sees you going to rub your clit. “feel good baby?” he asks teasing you, already knowing your answer to his question.

all you can do is nod at his question. “good girl.” he smiles as he quickens his pace. “jin-jinnie too m-much!” your hand neglecting your clit as hyunjin notices.

he replaces your hands old place with his own. him rubbing your clit for you now. your legs shaking as he doesn’t slow his pace.

“gonna cum like a good girl?” he breathes into you neck as his hips lose its rhythm as he gets closer to his high. you dumbly nod at your boyfriend and he just smiles at you, moving some of the hair out of your face.

“cum for me pretty. gonna make you mine.” he groans as he sees your face contort in pleasure. you come undone hard on his dick. his hips still fucking into you as you come down from your high.

“jinnie- i can’t!” you cry at the overstimulation. “i know i know pretty girl. just a little- fuck a little longer.” his hips are desperate as your feel them stuttering against you as he cums inside you.

him fucking you slow as he comes down from his orgasm. “so pretty for me.” he takes in your appearance as he pulls his dick out. he looks at his and your cum mixed with your arousal oozing out of you. “so filthy baby.” you blush trying to not seem embarrassed.

“let me clean you up then we are gonna have a civil conversation okay? i hate fighting with you.” he sighs as he pulls you to hug him. “i love you so much.” he kisses your cheek. “i love you more jinnie.”

#skz fluff #skz hyunjin #skz smut #skz #skz x reader #skz fanfic #hyunjin fic #hyunjin smut #stray kids hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #hyunjin fluff #stray kids fic #stray kids smut #stray kids #skz imagines