#five days of izzy hands x reader

[that-sarcastic-writer]

After Hours

DI!SingleDad!Leon S. Kennedy X F!Teacher!Reader

Summary: You really shouldn't fuck your student's dad. You shouldn't. No matter how hot you think he is. You shouldn't. Right?

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) p in v, fingering, oral (f receiving), choking, hair pulling, creampie, soft!dom leon, praising, Leon has a mouth on him, the s stands for slut, parent teacher dynamic, foul language

WC: 8.2k I am so sorry

A/N: guess who just watched death island and guess who wants to fuck di Leon. Yes, this whore. The things that man does to me. Man definitely gave me girl dad vibes in di so I wrote it lol enjoy the Leon filth

Note: this story was inspired by @konigbabe own dad!leon x teacher fic. Hers is definitely way better than mine and definitely recommend checking it out! (Sorry for not mentioning before it was extremely late last night🙃)

Universe Masterlist

You've been teaching second graders for a very long time, and you've never been more in awe and intrigued by a child at the same time. When you met this little girl you knew she would grow on you. But you didn't think she would be so complicated too. 

"Mhm, and she said— Izzy?" You were standing in your designated area during recess duty, talking to the other second grade teacher when one of your students, Isabella, was dragged to your side along with an older boy by another teacher. 

The boy had a scraped up arm, and Izzy was holding her hands together in front of herself and staring at the ground as the teacher held her by her shirt. You stared in confusion for a second before you looked at the teacher. 

"Ms. Miller, what's going on? Why are you dragging Izzy and who is this boy?" You asked, head tilted with confusion. 

"Is this Isabella Kennedy? She wouldn't answer when I asked her." The older lady asked, shooting the brunette girl a nasty look. You frowned, but nodded slowly, replying with a short yes. She continued. "She pushed one of my kids and he's bleeding. You need to take her to the Principal's office and call her parents right now." 

Your eyes widened in shock and your mouth fell open, baffled. You blinked a couple times in disbelief as you looked at Izzy. This girl was a sweetheart, quiet, but kind, she would never hurt another student. 

"Izzy, come baby, we're gonna go sit in my classroom while I call your daddy, mkay?" You shot Ms. Miller a glare that made her let go of Izzy, and you quietly extended your hand to the girl. She took it, quietly following you. 

Maybe today was the day you would finally meet Isabella Kennedy's father. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took five phone calls, three emails, and a good three hours before anyone came for Izzy. It was well past the end of the school day. You had been sitting outside the Principal's office with Izzy for about an hour when a man, tall, close to six feet tall, with a leather jacket and brown hair that fell over his eyes walked down the hall. He had the same intense blue eyes as Izzy. He had a pretty annoyed look on his face too. 

Leon Kennedy.

"Izzy." He called out when he saw her, his low baritone filling the otherwise quiet hall. The little girl lifted her head, blue eyes instantly lighting up at the sight of her dad. 

She instantly got up from her chair and ran to him. He picked her up without hesitation and a frown plastered on his face when she hid her face on his neck with guilt. 

"I'm sorry daddy." 

"Oh, what's wrong? Why are you sorry?" He asked, rubbing her back soothingly, but before she could bust out into tears, you stepped in. 

"Hi. Hey, uhm. I'm Isabella's teacher. Are you Mr. Kennedy?" You felt stupid for asking, he made you feel even more so when he narrowed his eyes at you with this 'seriously?' look in his eyes. 

"Yeah. What's going on? I saw you left me a million voicemails. Is Izzy alright?" He asked, understandably concerned, instinctively checking his daughter for any injuries or marks. 

"Yes she's alright but uhm.. Something happened earlier and I think it'd be good if we spoke in private before you speak with the principal." You bit your lip, watching as his face scrunched up with a mixture of confusion and annoyance. 

"What— y'know what, alright. Just make it quick please." He sighed, saying something to Izzy that you couldn't quite hear before he set her down on her feet. 

"I'm gonna go talk to your daddy for a minute okay? You can go finish that drawing, yeah?" You said to the little girl with a smile. She rubbed her eye but nodded regardless. 

You led Leon to your classroom. You sat on your desk as he sat on the chair you had left for him in case he did show up. He leaned back, arms folded over his chest and legs spread. That man hadn't even said a word yet and you were already sweating. He was full of self assurance and confidence, like he didn't need to say a word for his presence to be the center of attention. And it made you nervous. 

"So uhm, I called you because Isabella got into some trouble today during recess." You started, leaning your elbows on your desk. His face never changed. He had the same stoic expression. 

Seriously?

"Okay." 

"She pushed a fourth grader on the playground, and the kid scraped up his arm." You finished, hoping that would get some kind of reaction. It did. But not the one you were expecting. 

"Oh. Wow, okay." There was a tiny curve on the corner of his lips. You could swear it looked like a smile. "Is she in trouble or something?" 

"Uhm, yes, of course she's in trouble. Our anti-bullying policy is very strict here Mr. Kennedy. She could get suspended for this." 

He rolled his eyes. The motherfucker rolled his eyes. 

"That's not bullying. The kid probably deserved it." He scoffed softly, leaning further back into the chair. He had his eyebrows furrowed, and he was staring you down, pale blue eyes making you want to crawl into your own skin. "Izzy isn't the type to just hurt someone. She's a good kid. Did you even ask why she did it? 

"Well uhm.. Yes, she said the fourth grade boy was bothering her and her friend, he shoved her friend so Izzy, uh, shoved him back, much harder." You cleared your throat, knowing your answer wasn't any better. You didn't want Izzy to get in trouble, but you had to do your job.

"Are you serious?" He had this blank expression on his face, and when you nodded, he gave you a laugh that was this mixture between pride and irritation. "This is ridiculous. A nine year-old boy bullies my seven year-old daughter and her friend, but my daughter is the one that gets in trouble for standing up for herself?" 

You stared at him, lips parted as you tried to come up with an answer. You ran your tongue over your dry lips, no answer actually coming out. He scoffed. 

"Was that all then? This conversation could've been a phone call." He sat up, seemingly getting ready to stand up. You shook your head. 

"No, Mr. Kennedy. There's something else I wanted to discuss with you." 

"It's just Leon, please. I'm not that old." He chuckled, leaning back into the seat. 

Your eyes fell to his chest, slightly exposed by the undone buttons of his shirt. Your words were lost for a second as you imagined what it would be like to see under that shirt, to feel— No. That's inappropriate. Focus. 

"Uhm, I understand you must be busy with your job, Izzy talks about it all the time but I think she would benefit from more involvement from a parent in her academics and activities." You started, leaning forward on your arms. 

"Meaning what? I'm involved plenty." 

"I'm sorry but, I've had your daughter for a semester and a half, and this is the first time I've met you. We've had two parent-teachers conferences so far. I never saw you there. She performed at the winter concert, I don't recall seeing you there either." You explained with a small frown, remembering all the times you had to cheer her up because she was upset about her dad not being there for a school event. "All I'm saying is that if your job doesn't allow it, maybe Izzy's mom can—" 

"No, not an option. It's just me." He cut you off quickly, sitting up quickly as his shoulders tensed. 

You weren't a behavior analyst, but knew that tone. That defensiveness and resentment at the same time, you had seen it time and time again from single parents. It explained a lot. 

"Then she really needs you. You're the only support she has. So be there for your daughter."

"I am. It's just that my job—" 

"With all due respect, your job is not more important than your daughter. Listen, the spring concert is in two weeks. She's performing there with a few other girls. I just ask that you be there for her. Trust me it will do her good. And knowing her dad is there for her will stop her from acting out like this again." 

Leon bit his lip in thought, you could see the gears turning in his head, the way he tapped his index finger on his bicep in thought, but he ultimately sighed. 

"An elementary school concert, is that really necessary? Can't I just take you to dinner instead and we can call it even?" He said it so smoothly you didn't realize his flirtation at first. It took a second for your brain to register he was flirting with you and the tiny smirk on his face made heat rush to your face in an instant. 

"Mr. Kennedy, that is not appropriate." You tried hiding your embarrassment behind a soft laugh, but the way you avoided his eyes said enough. 

"I told you, it's Leon." He corrected you again, grin still on his face, "Alright fine, I'll see what I can do. Can I take Izzy home now?" 

"Yes. I'll email you the RSVP." You finally met his eyes with a small smile of your own as you waved your hand, signaling that he could leave. He nodded, standing up, but before he left you added, "And please look at your emails this time." 

He flashed you a small smile, "Sure Miss." 

~~~~~~~~~~

"Aw Izzy, you look so pretty. Did your daddy help you get ready?" You asked the little girl, her hair neatly pulled back into a bun, glitter scattered on her hair and blue sparkly eyeshadow matched the shades of blue in her outfit. She looked like a princess. 

"Nooo. Daddy doesn't know how to do makeup. Aunt Claire did." She said excitedly and smiled with glee.

Huh, that must be the woman that sometimes picked her up. For the longest time you thought it was her mom. But not after Leon had told you about her mom not being in the picture. Still, you thought maybe you'd get more out of her than her dad. 

"Oh she did a really good job!" You smiled at her as you stood with her, waiting for her turn to perform. "Is your daddy coming?" 

"Yes. He said he would." Good. 

"And your mommy? Is she coming too?" You squinted an eye, knowing you probably shouldn't push your luck, but kids usually never lied, and you wanted to know for sure.

"Oh, I don't have a mommy. Just daddy and Aunt Claire. Oh and Uncle Chris. But he's not around much." She said it so blankly it reminded you of her dad. 

It made your heart sink, to think her mom had abandoned her. Which you had the feeling was the case based on the defensive and almost resentful way Leon spoke about it when you met. But somehow it didn't seem to bother Izzy. 

"Well I'm sure your daddy will love to see you perform tonight. It's almost your turn, go find the other girls, I'll be right here." 

She gave you an eager nod and a smile as she ran to her friends, their names getting introduced by the principal a minute later. You stayed in a corner mostly out of sight, but enough where you could see the stage. At one point, you looked towards the far end of the gym, at the top of the stairs. You saw a familiar leather jacket, the man leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his chest as he watched the stage. You couldn't really see from your distance, but you had a feeling he was smiling. But you were definitely smiling when his eyes found yours. 

"Oh my God you did so good! I can't believe you learned that in a few months!" You said to Izzy, her tiny hand in yours as you walked her through the gym to find Leon.

As you walked out to the hallway, you caught a couple moms whispering not so quietly about the unknown man in a leather jacket that was standing by himself and it almost made you laugh. 

"Hey, is Isabella's dad here? I see she's still attached to your hip." Your friend, Emily walked your way, eyeing the little girl, then you. You raised an eyebrow at her, knowing she just wanted to see who was the mysterious hot single dad she kept hearing about. 

"Mmmm, yeah he's here. He's—" You looked around for a bit, quickly spotting him by himself. You smiled to yourself when your eyes met. "Izzy, your daddy is over there, go. I'll be there in a sec." 

She nodded and ran to her dad. She jumped as soon as she was in front of him and he lifted her in his arms in a heartbeat. You heard her giggles as she wrapped her arms around his neck and he sat her on his hip, hugging her. 

"He's hot. Like really hot." Emily spoke, making you look at her. Your eyes widened and you snorted quietly. "What? He is. He totally gives biker vibes. I wonder if he has a motorcycle. You should ask him to take you on a ride sometime." 

"Emily." You scolded her with a laugh. 

"I'm serious! You should go out with him. Or I will." 

"I'm leaving now, I don't not want to get written up for sexual harassment of a parent. Goodbye Ms. Robinson." You laughed, waving your hand at her dismissively as you walked towards Leon and Izzy. So you could say goodbye to Izzy. Or so you told yourself. 

"Miss! Look what my daddy gave me." Izzy showed you a beautiful white carnation. 

You smiled in awe, both at the flower but also at the sweet gesture. Leon definitely didn't seem the type to give gifts. Maybe you were wrong. 

"Oh wow, that's such a pretty flower! It's almost as pretty as you Izzy. But you're prettier." You giggled with the little girl, who nuzzled further into Leon's chest in a fit of giggles. He thought you weren't looking, but you definitely caught the tiny smile on his face. 

"But you're prettier, Miss! At school we call her Miss Pretty. Cause she's really pretty all the time, right daddy? You were saying that Miss looked really pretty the other day." Izzy lifted her head to look at her dad with her big blue eyes. 

His own eyes grew a bit and a dust of pink covered his otherwise pale face. 

"Isabella." Leon said her name sternly, but the girl just giggled even more. He rolled his eyes and looked at you, a tiny grin on his lips and that same air of confidence that never seemed to falter, even if he was embarrassed. "Okay, say bye to your friends so we can go home. And say bye to Miss Pretty." 

Now it was your turn to be fluttered. 

"Okay. Bye Miss, I'll see you on Monday!" Izzy hugged your waist as soon as Leon put her on her feet. You smiled, crouching down to embrace her properly. 

"I'll see you on Monday Izzy." You smiled, watching as she took off to find her friends. You stood up slowly, eyes meeting with Leon's. "I'm glad you came. She was really happy." 

"Mhmm, I'm glad I came too." His eyes lingered on you. 

God, you were pretty. He took in the way your hair was done differently, maybe for the occasion. Your makeup was different too, nothing too glamorous, but some shimmer on your eyelids and a lipstick that matched. And your dress, it suited you perfectly. But he'd be lying if he said he wouldn't prefer to see it on his floor instead. 

"And thank you for talking your way out of her suspension. She's a good kid, I wouldn't want something like that on her file."

"Of course. I adore Izzy, and I've seen first hand she's a sweet kid. Off the record, I didn't want her to get suspended for standing up for herself. You taught her well." You smiled, trying to ignore the blood rushing to your face. 

"Yeah well, I try."

"But I hope this isn't a one time thing though. It'd be good for Izzy if you came around more often." You bit your lip softly, feeling his deep gaze burn into your skin. He nodded, leaning ever so slightly closer. Nothing any prying eyes would notice, but you definitely did. 

"I'll be around, but in the meantime," He bit his lip, eyes darting around for a second before he leaned down to your ear for a split second, saying, "Dinner is still on the table." 

"Mr—" 

"I swear to God if you call me Mr. Kennedy one more time." 

You leaned back, a smile threatening to pull around your lips. And you nodded, digging into your purse for a second before you pulled out a piece of paper and shoved it into his palm. 

"I'll be seeing you around, Leon." 

He watched you as you walked with a smile on your face. He furrowed his eyebrows curiously but it quickly turned into a grin when he saw what you had written on the post-it note. 

Juat say when. I actually answer my phone. —Miss

"Fuck me." He sighed quietly to himself, shaking his head as he shoved the piece of paper into his pocket and rubbed a hand over his freshly trimmed jaw before calling Izzy. "Izzy, c'mon." 

"You, you evil child are in so much trouble," he chuckled, taking his daughter's hand in his, "You can't be telling daddy's secrets like that, bee. You're gonna get me in trouble." 

"But she's really pretty! And nice. And she makes really good brownies. I like her a lot." She giggled, looking up at Leon with a smile that reminded him that not everything in this world was pain and misery. "You should take her on a date!"

"I asked if she wanted to, actually." 

"Oh my God really? Did she say yes?" 

Leon looked at his little girl with narrowed eyes and smiled, "Since when are you so nosy? Hmph." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You didn't think Leon would be the chivalrous type to come pick you at your door for your date. But there he was, leaning on his Jeep Wrangler as he waited for you to come down. And when you did, fuck, it made him want to take you right then and there. 

"Woah… You look.." He blew out a small breath and his lips curved up. You nodded, biting your lip softly. 

"Thank you. You look good too." 

"So uh, is Italian alright? I know a really good place downtown." 

The food was great, amazing even, but this, oh this was better than any fancy restaurant. Leon pressed your back against the door, his own body pressing you further into it, preventing from moving. Not that you wanted to. He had one of your wrists pinned above your head as he kissed you, tongue slipping into your mouth to savor the faint wine you had earlier. He used his other hand to hoist you up around his waist, a moan slipping past your throat when his belt brushed against your clothed clit. 

You swore you never had sex on the first date. But for Leon you would be the biggest whore if that’s what he wanted. 

“Mmm Leon,” You panted softly, he hummed as he moved his lips to your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses. “Izzy. Is she—”

“Not here. She’s at my friend’s for the night.” He answered in between kisses.

“You have a friend that watches your kid while you get laid? Aren’t you lucky?”

“Can we not talk about my babysitting arraignments right now?" He muttered out in between kisses, his breath hot against your skin. 

A soft giggle fell past your lips and you nodded, grabbing the back of his head to kiss his lips again. A satisfied hum rumbled in his throat as he moved his lips with yours, keeping one hand on your ass and the other found the back of your neck as he moved you off the door. He was walking, somewhere, you assumed his bedroom. He parted from your lips to half watch where he was going and you took that opportunity to drag your lips along his jaw. You could tell he hadn't shaved in a few days, but you liked the tingle it gave.  

Leon let out a breathy hum at the feeling of your lips roaming freely along his skin. He bit his lips softly as he fumbled with the doorknob, he eventually got it open. He didn't bother closing it and his feet took him straight to his bed. 

He grabbed the back of your head and pressed another hard kiss to your lips before your back hit his bed. Soft duvets pooled around you as he laid you down, pulling your bottom lip with him as he moved back. 

"Fuck, I knew you'd look so pretty on my bed." He breathed out as he watched you, hair pooling around your head, and makeup already a mess. 

You gave him a shy smile as you sat up on your elbows. His eyes stayed on you as he sunk his weight on one knee, a knee he placed right in between your thighs. And his eyes never left you as he slowly undid the buttons of his navy blue dress shirt. His leather jacket was long gone by the time you had stepped foot inside his apartment.

You watched him with big eyes as he shrugged off the piece of clothing, leaving his muscular chest of full display. And fuck, if he looked huge under layers of clothing, he looked massive now. Your eyes took him all in, an arrangement of scars covered his otherwise pale skin. Scars and all, he was still the most attractive man you had ever met. 

"You look so pretty when you look at me like that." He chuckled softly, his fingers coming up under your chin to make you look up at him, clearly noticing the way you were staring at him, with those eyes and your lips parted.

"You think I'm pretty? Have you seen yourself in the mirror lately?" You responded without thinking, the words coming out with a breath. 

A smile formed on his lips and he shook his head, watching with amusement as your shaky hands touched his belt. You ran your tongue over your lips as you unbuckled his belt with shaky hands. Leon watched you carefully, his breath picking up when your fingers itched closer to his cock as it strained against his boxer briefs. But when you sat up fully, about to move your knees he grabbed your hands, making you stop. Your eyes shot up to his face with alarm, afraid you had made him uncomfortable. 

"Next time baby," He said with restraint. It wasn't that he didn't want to feel your mouth around him. He'd kill for that. But he could be selfish another time. "Lemme take care of you tonight, yeah?" 

You breathed out shakily, the panic leaving you as soon as the words left his mouth, and a pool of arousal replaced your uneasiness. You nodded. 

"Yeah, okay." 

He gave you a smile that made you ache and he gestured to you to lie down. 

"Lay down for me." He coaxed with a voice so smooth it almost made you whine. He eased a hand up your bare thighs as you did as he told you. 

Your back touched his soft covers again as you took in a sharp breath. You closed your eyes in anticipation as you heard him move around for a second. You gasped when you felt him drag you to the end of the bed by your ankle. You lifted your head and fuck, you could've come right there and there at the sight of Leon, on his knees, with his head between your legs. 

"Leon.." You whined almost desperately, the ache between your legs starting to become unbearable. 

A soft smirk tugged at his lips at the whine of his name and he lifted his head to look at you with feign innocence. 

"What's that pretty girl?" He sneaked a hand under your dress, his thumb barely grazing your clit through your panties. You twitched, a sharp gasp leaving your lips. 

"Please." A weak plea was all you could say. 

"What? Want my mouth on you? Want me to finger you open? Make you come all over my tongue?" He spoke with arrogance, with that same arrogance he always fucking wore. And you hated just how much it turned you on. 

"Yes! Yes! Yes, just please, touch me." You were so pathetic but you didn't care. 

"Oh trust me baby, I'm gonna do so much more than just touch you. You think you can handle me?" He tugged down your panties with such ease and so casually you didn't even realize he did, you were more focused on his question. 

"I… Yes I— Of course I can handle you." 

Leon chuckled at how fast you responded to his question and he bit his bottom lip as he scrunched up your dress up to your hips with his free hand, his eyes lingering on your cunt for a second before he met your gaze again. 

"Tap me twice if it's too much, yeah? A sweet elementary teacher like yourself might not be used to.. Well, me." 

You scrunched up your face a bit at his comment, shooting him a glare that made him chuckle. 

"I won't break Leon." 

A malicious smirk fell on his lips, "That's the point." 

He didn't give you time to reply with another witty remark when he decided he was done talking. He sunk his head between your thighs and his tongue dragged along your clit without a warning. You jolted with a shudder, a loud gasp leaving your lips when you felt his mouth on your already sensitive clit. 

"Oh my—" Your mouth fell open, your eyes slightly fluttering as he circled his tongue over your clit. "Oooh fuck." 

Your head fell back against the mattress as he continued to work you with his tongue. He drew circles around your clit before he moved down to your wet entrance then back up to your clit. Over and over until you were writhing on the bed. 

"Shit— Leon—!" The sound that left your mouth was pathetic, a mixture between a cry and a whimper when he slipped two of his long fingers into you. 

He groaned against you, lapping at your pussy as he slid his fingers in and out with ease. And you couldn't help the way you were grinding back against his face. It had been a long fucking time since a guy had even bothered to eat you out, let alone like this. He didn't mind it, but the way you kept sliding up the bed every time he curled up his fingers against that one spot was annoying him. With his free hand he grabbed your hip with a tight grip and slid your body back down, holding you against his face. And he held you there, with his fingers deep inside your pussy, his mouth lapping at your clit and both of your legs thrown over his shoulders. You had nowhere to go and he was more than pleased about that. 

"Fuck fuck— Shit Leon please—" You eyes were rolled into the back of your head, head thrown back as you writhed against his face. "Please— I'm so close please, please don't stop." 

Fuck, you sounded so pretty when you pleaded to him like that. He could feel his cock strain harder against his pants just at the sound. He hummed, closing his lips around your clit and suckled. You didn't mean to, but your hand fell to the back of his hair and you pulled. And my God you pulled hard. 

Leon growled at the feeling of your fingers tangling and tugging at his hair. The vibrations made you whine and you did it again. But this time he pulled back enough to speak. 

"Pull my hair one more time, I swear to God." He grunted the words. But he wasn't angry. God, he wasn't angry in the slightest. But he knew he only had so much self control left in his body.

You didn't reply, you simply loosened your grip on his honey brown strands, but you kept your hand on the back of his head and his lips found your clit again. And you did your best to not latch on to his hair again, but fuck it was so hard when his fingers hit so deep and his tongue felt so good. You were so fucking close, you couldn't help it. 

"Mhmm yeah that's it, I know you wanna come. Yeah, you wanna come don't you sweet girl?" He grunted, spitting on your clit as he scissored you open, the palm of his hand rutting against your clit. "I know you do, c'mon, come for me." 

When you felt his tongue on your clit again you couldn't help it. Your mouth fell wide open as your heels dug into his shoulders. Your eyes were squeezed shut as your mind went blank and you couldn't help yourself, your fingers dug so deep into his hair as you held his face against you he actually grunted in pain. 

But he didn't stop, he lapped at your juices as you convulsed under him, the lewd sound of his palm against your wet cunt shooting straight to his cock. 

He didn't stop sucking at your clit until you were twitching with aftershock and you were weakly pulling his head back by the ends of his hair. Only then his fingers left you and he was pulling back. He watched you through narrowed eyes as you panted, your hands now on your face as you tried to come back down to earth. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he rose his feet. 

He fumbled with his pants as he climbed on the bed and before you even realized it, he grabbed you, hands under your armpits to drag you up the bed. You stammered at the sudden manhandling. 

"Leon—" He didn't even let you finish before he was flipping you on your stomach, his bare back pressing you down on the mattress. 

"What did I say about pulling my hair, hm?" He breathed out into your ear, harshly tugging down his boxer briefs enough to pull out his cock. 

"I— I'm sorry—" You gasped as he not to gently unzipped your dress and pulled it over your head. 

He didn't let you sit up though. With a large hand in between your shoulders, he sat up enough to sit back on his knees, his cock in his hand as he pumped himself a few times. 

"No you're not." He sighed out, eyes closing for a split second as he dragged his cock between your wet folds. He heard you whine against his pillows, but you made no effort to move from where he held you. "Move that pretty little ass of yours up here. Need you to stay down though." 

With a soft whimper, you stuck your ass up in the air, meeting his hips. His eyes fell on your ass, lips slightly parted he slowly sank himself into you. He watched as his cock disappeared inside your tight walls until only a little bit of him was left. But he didn't want to push you too hard, you couldn't fit all of him. 

Leon sat still for what felt like years, but in reality it was merely a minute or so. His eyes were closed as he dragged a hand up and down your back, easing you until he knew he could move. It took you some time to adjust to his size, your eyes were squeezed shut as you fists clenched his sheets. But it wasn't long before you were begging him to fuck you. 

"Leon— Please. Need you to fuck me, please." You muttered into the sheets as you turned your head to the side so that your cheek was pressed into the mattress. 

"Mhmmm, 'course you do." Fuck, he was going to ruin you. 

He dragged his cock out slowly, slow enough for you to feel every inch of him, until you were nothing but pathetic noises. He was almost all the way out when he slammed in again, making your body slide up the mattress. He did the same again, and again, fucking your body into the mattress like no one you had ever been with before. This man was going to be the death of you. Your student's dad. There were so many things wrong with what you were doing, but fuck, you couldn't list a single one of those things that could ever top this. 

You were brought back to this reality by the feeling of his lips dragging up your bare spine. You felt a cold shudder run through your whole body as he leaned over you, his bare back pressed against yours and his hips rutting against your ass, so much so you could feel the rough material of his pants brush against your ass and the sound of his belt rattling with each snap of his hips. But that only made it better. To think he was so eager to fuck you he couldn't be bothered to take his pants off. That idea alone made you see white.

With your mind on a different planet entirely, you didn't realize the grip he had on your hair. Until you felt him pull your head back by your hair. His fingers were tangled to the root as he pressed his lips to your ear. 

"You like how that feels, hm?" You had a feeling his question was rhetorical, that you weren't supposed to enjoy the forcefulness of his actions, because he was clearly punishing you for what you did earlier. But you would be lying if you said it didn't make you even wetter. He definitely felt the way you clenched around him and he laughed. "Oh? So you do huh? Pretty Miss Teacher likes it when I'm rough with her?" 

You were nodding against his grip, as best as you could anyway, a soft cry being a pretty good sign that you did, indeed liked it. You should be ashamed of how much you wanted this man to ruin you, to use you as he pleased. But the way he was buried deep inside your cunt felt way too good to feel any shame. 

"Yes! Yes, please be rough with me." You managed to choke out. You heard the groan that rumbled in his chest at your words. 

Leon was flipping you on your back and slamming back into you before you even had time to protest. You instantly wrapped your legs around his torso as he resumed his pace, only that this time, his hips snapped much harshly with each thrust he gave you. His lips found your neck as one of his hands rested on the column of your neck, he didn't squeeze or touch your throat, he simply held you down as he fucked you into the mattress. 

His fingers twitched, the urge to wrap them around your throat making his cock throb, but he otherwise decided against it, not wanting to push you too hard on your first night together. So to avoid giving in to his urges he itched to move his hand beside your head instead. You felt his hand leave your neck and something deep within your core didn't want him to, so your hand flew to catch his wrist. 

"Choke me." You blurted out, so heated that you didn't even think of how embarrassed you normally would be to ask such a thing. 

Leon lifted his head enough to look at your face, his lips parted as he panted softly, strands of his hair falling over his eyes but he could see you clearly. He heard you loud and clear, too. 

"Shit baby," He groaned out, lips crashing against yours in a messy kiss before he returned his hand to your neck, but this time, he actually wrapped his fingers around your throat. "You're gonna be the fucking death of me. Such a pretty thing, sweet to everyone, with those pretty dresses of yours and that beautiful smile of yours. And you're asking me to choke you. Fuck." 

He squeezed ever so slightly, just enough to make you feel a bit dizzy, but in the best way possible. You were so close, you could feel the burning ache in the pit of your stomach, and with the way his cock hit your most sensitive spot with every thrust, you knew you wouldn't last long. 

"Ah— Shit— Leon—" Your sounds were choked out, barely audible, but he heard the way you were begging, the way you said his name, it drove him fucking insane. "I wanna—" 

"Mhmm, I know baby. You wanna come all over my cock, hm? Yeah you do," He dug his teeth into his already red lip as he sneaked his free hand in between your bodies and began rubbing harsh circles around your clit, making your hips jerk. "Yeah that's it— Fuck, atta girl. Lemme feel you fall apart for me." 

He didn't even have to tell you, you were seeing white the second his thumb touched your clit. You dug your nails into his skin, surely leaving a few marks to find in the morning. But he couldn't care less. He couldn't help but moan at the feeling of your walls squeezing his cock. He held you down to the mattress as he drilled into you, his own release not too far now. 

"Yeah— yeah that's it. Good girl. You're such a good girl." He dragged through pants, his fingers squeezing your throat tightly. "Fuck— Fuck I'm gonna— Shit." 

He was about to pull himself out, so as to not finish inside you, but you held him tight, legs securely wrapped around his torso. He looked you through half lidded eyes as you nodded at him. 

"Please." You couldn't say much, with his hand on your throat and all, but he understood what you meant and the idea of you letting him come inside you made him lose the little control he still had left. 

"Oh fuck— fuck that's a good girl— Ah—" His head fell to your neck as he cradled your head with the hand not your neck and he squeezed his eyes shut as he fell still, holding you down on his cock as he came with a throaty moan. "Mhmmm. Just like that. Take it just like that." 

His hand slowly released your throat, and you gasped softly as your head spun with adrenaline. Your eyes fluttered shut as you held him, arms lazily thrown over his shoulders as your fingers lightly threaded his hair. You felt his breath hot on your neck as he panted. Your own breathing was as hard and fast as his for a minute or so. But he didn't mind holding until you both calmed down. It was a while before you felt him move, probably when he got tired of holding his weight. He left a kiss on your jaw before he moved to lay on his back beside you. 

Leon turned his head to look at you and he couldn't help but smile to himself, face glistening with sweat, makeup absolutely ruined and hair tousled and pooled around your head. And even like that you were still the prettiest thing he had ever laid eyes on. 

"I wasn't too rough on you, was I?" He asked quietly, knowing he sometimes could be a bot too much.

You turned your head to look at him, and you found those pale blue eyes staring at you with concern, you gave him a tired smile. 

"Of course not. I… I liked it. I don't think anyone's ever made me come like that before." You admitted with a dry laugh. His eyebrows shot up a bit with surprise, but that surprise quickly turned into pride. 

"Well, I do like to be the exception." 

"Oh shut up." You playfully smacked his arm and he chuckled. 

You couldn't help but smile, but your expression fell a bit when you thought he probably would want you to go home. That's usually how that was, right? I mean he had a daughter, he probably didn't want his daughter's teacher— who he had just fucked senseless, to stay the night. Right? Probably not. You sighed softly as you moved your hair away from your face and sat up. You missed the confused look Leon gave you. 

"You leaving or something?" He asked with furrowed eyebrows as he sat up, watching the way you were reaching over the edge of the bed to grab your dress from the floor. But you quickly sat back to look at him, also confused. 

"I mean… I'm supposed to, right?" 

Leon scrunched up his face with confusion and slightly tilted his head, "You're supposed to?" 

"Well. Uh… Yeah. I mean, Izzy—" He cut you off right then and there. 

"Hey no, it isn't like that. I don't… I don't do that." You frowned at him, confused by what he meant. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, getting the strands out of his face. "I wasn't going to fuck you then ask you to leave. I'm not like that. It's late, and I drove you. Izzy isn't coming home tonight. You can stay. If you want of course, if not I can drive you home, I just—" 

Now it was your turn to cut him off. He gasped in surprise when you crashed your lips against his. His lips curved up into a smile as he held your face. He kissed you much softly now. 

"I wouldn't mind staying." You finally said, smiling against his lips. 

"I wouldn't mind either." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

You weren't exactly sure when, but you had fallen asleep, with Leon's arms wrapped around you as he held you to his chest. But rays of sunlight were hitting your face now as they slipped through the open curtains he probably forgot to close the night prior. You scrunched up your nose, squinting your eyes as you pressed your face further into the pillow. But it was too late now, you were awake and there was no way to fall back asleep. As much as you would love to just cuddle up to Leon and sleep some more. Speaking of, as you peeled your eyes open you saw him, still sleeping peacefully next to you. 

He laid on his stomach, the covers pooled around his waist as his face was buried deep into his pillow. His honey brown hair was tousled from sleep and from your doing the night prior, and loose strands hung over the side of his face. God, he looked absolutely gorgeous. You really should've felt guilty for sleeping with one of your classroom parents. But when you woke up to a sight like that? You regretted nothing. 

You debated on staying in bed with him, at least until he woke up and decided to take you home, but you really needed a bathroom. So you carefully maneuvered your way out of his bed, dressed yourself in the first thing you found— his dress shirt from last night and tip toed out of his bedroom. You felt so weird walking around his house without his permission, but he hadn't exactly given you a tour last night. So you ventured until you found a bathroom. By the time you were done Leon still hadn't left his bedroom so you decided to find his kitchen for a glass of water at least. You looked around on your way to the kitchen. He wasn't much of a decorator. It was definitely the apartment of a single man. But as soon as you walked to the kitchen you saw countless drawings and pictures hanging from the fridge. 

Your heart warmed as you walked to see the drawings up close. There were definitely Izzy's. You smiled to yourself at the photo you saw next to one of the drawings, one of Leon, a few years younger, holding a baby in a hospital blanket. All of the other photos you saw were similar. It was only Leon and Isabella in all of them. Not a single one of Izzy's mom. 

Did she never want to be a part of her life? Was she truly never around? 

"You tried to run away last night, and when I wake up you're gone, too? Was I that bad?" You jumped at the sound of Leon's voice in the kitchen. 

You cursed loudly, holding a hand to your rapidly beating heart as you glared at him, making him laugh. 

"Asshole. I wanted to use the bathroom, and you were still asleep." You shrugged your shoulders, eyeing him carefully. Still no shirt, but he was wearing a pair of plaid pajamas pants now. He had his phone in his hand and was scratching the back of his head, attempting to smooth down his bedhead. 

"You look pretty with my shirt. Looks better on you actually." He hummed as he padded through the kitchen to stand in front of you.

He stood in front of you, watching you intently for a few seconds before he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. 

You giggled against his lips, happily kissing him. You threw your arms over his shoulders and he rested his hands on your hips. 

"Mmm, you hungry?" He asked, brushing his nose against yours and his lips were curled up into a grin. You nodded, biting your bottom lip. "Me too." 

You gasped when he hoisted you up on the kitchen island. You gripped his shoulders as you watched him with wide eyes. But he said nothing as he nudged your legs open with his knee and stood in between them. 

"What? I said I was hungry." He smirked as he captured your lips with his own one more time before he dropped to his knees in front of you. 

Without taking his eyes off from you, he threw one of your ankles over his shoulder and pressed his lips to the inside of your knee. Slowly, his lips itched closer and closer to your already dripping core. You held your breath with anticipation as he nibbled on your inner thigh. His lips were so close to where you needed him the most. His head got lost between your thighs and your hand instinctively fell on the back of his hair. His breath fanned hot against your clit and—

You jumped, your ass nearly slipping right off the counter, but Leon steadied you with a quick sturdy hand on your thigh. He was also startled by the sound of his phone ringing next to you. He closed his eyes, cursing under his breath. 

You took a deep breath, inhaling sharply as you looked beside you at his phone screen. 

"It says Claire." 

Leon shot up to his feet in a split second when you said that and he was answering the call almost frantically. 

"Hey. What's up? Everything alright?" He said into the phone, still standing between your parted legs. You frowned softly with concern, your hand resting on his chest as he listened to the woman on the line. "Shit, really?" 

He said nothing for a few seconds, just humming and nodding to himself before he pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed out an exasperated sigh. 

"No, you're okay, thanks for calling, Claire. Just give her some cereal, play her a Disney movie or something while I get there." He finally spoke, finally looking at you. And his blue eyes looked apologetic. "Yeah, I'll be there in fifteen. Yeah. See you soon." 

Leon placed his phone on the counter beside you and sighed. You looked up at him, eyes big with worry. 

"It's Izzy. I left her at my friend’s and apparently she woke up fuzzy. She's been crying all morning asking for me, so, gotta go pick her up." He explained, the corner of his lip curving up into an apologetic smile. You exhaled softly, the anxiety leaving your chest. 

You gave him a smile and pressed a kiss to his lips, "I get it. Don't worry. I'll get dressed so you can pick her up. I'm sorry I kept you from picking her up last night." 

"Oh, no sweetheart, don't say that. Last night was incredible. She just gets… Clingy I suppose." He sighed as he helped you down from the counter. 

"You're her only parent. It's normal. I should know." You gave him a smile as you started to head to his bedroom to get your clothes, but he grabbed your wrist, tugging you to his chest before you could. 

"Hey, I still owe you breakfast. Can I take you out again sometime?" 

The smile on your face was so wide you probably wouldn't be able to hide it even if you tried. 

"Yeah, I'll be around." 

[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.

[rottenroyalebooks]

It's a bad idea, right?

Series: The Mortal Instruments

Pairing: Jace Wayland x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst to Fluff, Friends to Lovers

Warnings: Possibly OOC Jace, slight description of Reader (mainly that Jace is taller than her), use of Y/N. All characters are aged 18+.

Summary:

Y/N has a Warlock ex that seems to have her under his spell, metaphorically speaking, and every time he calls, she answers.

Jace has had enough of watching her go back to him repeatedly. Because they're friends, definitely not because he's in love with her or anything.

A/N: Guys, I have finally caved into my desires and am diving deep into the world of The Mortal Instruments. I watched most of the show a few years ago and saw the movie a few days ago, which led me to buy a box set of the 6 Mortal Instruments books. I am just about halfway through The City of Bones, so I still have a lot of learning to do. Forgive me if I need to correct something.

Also, I love all the show characters, but Movie Jace feels closer to Book Jace than Show Jace, so I am committed to Movie Jace for visual representation and Movie Jace only.

Does that make sense to you? Yes? Cool.

"You were where last night?" Izzy asked her a bit too loudly as she and Y/N walked into the weapons room where Alec and Jace were working on cleaning their weapons used from the previous mission.

Y/N shushed her as the two boys looked over, "Seriously, whatever happened to private girl talk?"

Izzy rolled her eyes, speaking lower than before so the guys wouldn't hear, "What ever happened to cutting him out of your life? Finding a new guy to get in your bed to get over him, that's why we went to Pandemonium last night, remember?"

Y/N huffed in response. Of course, she knew that's why Izzy and Clary dragged her to Pandemonium. It was a plan that she had yet to be very keen on. Izzy had gone to powder her nose, and Clary went to dance when Demetrius Black approached her on the dance floor, convincing her to leave with him.

It never took much convincing. He never went to Pandemonium, so she thought it was safe, but alas, she woke up in his bed again with her favorite tea made just the way she liked it on the nightstand next to her. He was nowhere to be seen.

Izzy rolled her eyes at the lack of response, "I need to put a tracker on you, like an outdoor cat." She turned on her heels and walked away.

Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair before leaving the weapons room. She needed to punch something, so she soon found her way to the training room, where a punching bag sat calmly in the middle.

Then she beat the shit out of it.

"Stupid Demetrius and his stupidly charming attitude."

One Two.

"Stupid me for falling for it, again."

One Two Three.

"And stupid Mundane girl who couldn't keep her grimy hands to herself!"

With enough force of one last punch, the bag flew backward, hitting the wall as she let out a long groan of anger.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Jace's voice appeared behind her making her jump out of her skin.

"Jesus Christ,"

"Not exactly." He smirked, but she ignored his comment.

"Do you feel the need to scare everyone or just me? Am I that special?" Sarcasm dripped from her lips as she began walking over to the punching bag so she could put it back in its usual location.

"Stop dodging my question. Do you want to talk about why you punched the bag across the room?"

She signed, letting the bag stand back up, "Will you try not to make fun of me for at least ten minutes if I tell you."

He chuckled, leaning against a pillar with his signature smug look, "I'll try my very best."

She couldn't look him in the eye, but she told him everything. From Izzy's plan to it failing when she left her alone for not even five minutes to waking up in her ex's bed again.

His expression was stoic throughout the entire time she was speaking; all of Jace's smugness and ego quickly flushed away as envy flooded his veins.

She didn't notice his change in expression because she refused to look at him.

"I know it's stupid, but it's like he put a spell on me."

"You have a permanent ruin to block any Warlock from using that magic on you."

She groaned, "I meant metaphorically." She plopped down on the bench and ran a hand through her hair.

"Well, I don't even know what you see in the Warlock-"

"Alec is with Mangus, and you never have anything to say about that, but when I date a Downworlder who has helped us just as much as Mangus has, you suddenly have an issue?"

He didn't have a chance to think before he spoke, blurting out, "I can't stand to see you hurting yourself with someone who doesn't deserve you."

Her head snaps to finally make eye contact; she lets her emotions talk without knowing what to think, "You don't get to decide who deserves me, Jace. You're not my father, and you're not my brother. Don't act like it."

He stepped closer to where she was sitting, "He cheated on you. Remember that? You cried to Clary and Izzy for days about it, then you cried yourself to sleep after all that," He saw the shocked look on her face, "We share a wall, remember? The same wall both of our beds are up against. I heard it all and witnessed you tear yourself apart from all the insecurities he gave you. So yes, I may not be in a position to say it, but I can say for certain that he doesn't deserve you."

The tension between the two shadow hunters was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. Neither of them said anything else, just stared at each other until she stood up and brushed past him.

"Thanks for the reminder."

Jace only watched as she left the room, wanting to walk after her but feeling paralyzed where he stood. He cursed under his breath and looked down at his feet.

It was his turn to send the punching bag flying across the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night, the group went on a mission to track down a Vampire, killing humans left and right. Clary had poked around through the different nests in the city with Alec and Izzy, but none of them seemed to be acquainted with the rouge Vampire.

Jace and Y/N were tasked with searching Pandemonium for the Vampire or any information retaining it.

Things between them were still tense, and the others could see it, but Jace had been the one to wordlessly follow her to Pandemonium. The music was loud and beating through her head, making the memories from the night prior resurface, but she shook it off as she looked around for any suspicious Downworld behavior.

She and Jace had split up in the crowd, which meant she was alone when she felt her phone buzz in her back pocket. She pulled it out seeing a text from Demetrius:

Demetrius: I can tell you're working from how you dress tonight, but meet me at the bar. I might have the information you are searching for. ;)

Tensing up, she looks over at the bar seeing Demetrius leaning against it in all his glory, smirking knowingly at her. She pushed her hurt deep down and walked over to him.

"Well, you look lovely tonight, darling." He said, reaching out to touch her hair when she stopped about two feet away, but she smacked his hand away quickly.

"No time for pleasantries, Demetrius. Do you know anything about a Rouge Vampire, or are you wasting my time?"

"Playing hard to get tonight? Let me buy you a drink." He said as he waved to the bartender to get his attention.

She scoffed, shaking her head, "I knew this was a waste of time--" She stopped speaking when she backed into someone's chest; she didn't even need to look up to know it was Jace. She didn't realize he found them.

Jace didn't move at the contact; he only stared at Demetrius, who noticed he was standing there because she had stopped speaking.

"Oh look," he commented, bored, "It's the guard dog. Don't you have anything better to do than following her around like a lost puppy?"

"We're working, Demetrius." She spoke as Jace opened his mouth, cutting him off before a fight could break out, "Since you don't actually have any information for me, I am going to leave."

She brushed past Jace, leaving the two boys at the bar and disappearing into the crowd.

Jace followed her with his eyes until he knew she was out of earshot. Looking back at Demetrius with a glare that could kill a thousand men, he said, "If you come near her again, I will not hesitate to track you down and kill you myself."

Demetrius smirked, taking a sip from his drink, "And break The Clave's precious rules? From what she told me, you are one of those who respect the Covenant more than anything."

Jace took two steps forward, standing toe to toe with the Warlock, a look of pure hatred in his eyes, "I would break a thousand rules if it made her happy. I would break a thousand rules to make sure she is safe. Don't test me, Warlock."

Demetrius took another sip of his drink, "I always knew, from the moment I had the displeasure of meeting you, that you were in love with her. I watched as you protected her like a lovesick puppy even though she was head over heels in love with me. Now that she is single, why haven't you swept her off her feet to prevent her from falling into my bed?"

He leaned close to his ear, saying just above a whisper, "Maybe it's because you know she will never love you back."

Jace shoved him away, stalking off to get back to work. Only to watch as she left the storage room and in his direction; as she passed him, she said, "Threat has been neutralized, let's get out of here."

She was annoyed. Mostly at herself for thinking he wouldn't come back to her favorite club to antagonize her, but also at the fact that she had to take on a Vampire by herself because Jace decided to have a little chat with her ex.

At the same time, she was proud of herself for finally avoiding Demetrius' charm like the plague. Progress is Progress.

As she exited Pandemonium, she pulled out her phone and started texting Clary to let them know the Vampire was found and taken care of, but Jace pulled her phone out of her hands.

"I'll take that." He said as he went to her contacts lists.

Her jaw dropped, "Jace! Give that back!" She snapped, watching him smirk at her phone as he tapped the screen a few times before giving it back to her.

"First step, blocking your ex's number."

She rolled her eyes and brushed passed him. Raising her hand, a cab drove up to her almost immediately.

"How do you always get cabs so quickly?" He muttered loud enough for her to hear as he stood behind her protectively.

"It's a gift," she said flatly, getting into the cab and scooting over so Jace could get in, even though she wanted him to get his own taxi.

"You cant just avoid me forever." He said into her ear once she got comfortable after telling the driver where to drop them off.

She crossed her arms, staring straight ahead, "Watch me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Jace, let you fight the Vampire by yourself?" Izzy asked her in the kitchen of the Institute, snacking on popcorn with Clary on the opposite side of her as the three girls usually did after a hunt.

"He didn't let me; he was at the bar talking with Demetrius. I thought he followed me into the crowd when I left the bar, but he wasn't behind me when I found the Vampire and pointed it out to him." She ran a hand through her hair and looked down, "I didn't want to lose him, so I followed the Vampire into the storage room, scared off the mundane that was with him, and killed the bloodsucker."

Clary laughed, "And you did it by yourself."

Y/N shrugged, "It was easy because he was a new Vampire who didn't have anyone to guide him."

"What did Jace say when you told him you took care of it?" Izzy tossed another piece of Popcorn into Clary's mouth, and she caught it successfully.

"He didn't react, just followed me out and got rid of Demetrius' contact on my phone."

Clary nearly choked on her popcorn before swallowing it, "He did what?"

Sighing, she nodded, "Yeah, talk about quitting cold turkey."

Izzy giggled, elbowing Clary lightly. "Maybe Jace will finally start courting her."

Y/N raised an eyebrow; Jace was into someone? That was new information, "Courting who? We don't come into contact with many shadow hunters unless he has a secret Mundane lover."

Blinking, Izzy looked from Clary to Y/N and back to Clary, "Is she serious?"

"I think she is."

"Okay, what are you two going on about?" She asked, crossing her arms over her chest, blinking at the two of them.

"How do we put this nicely-" Clary began speaking, but Izzy cut her off, "Jace has been in love with you since we were thirteen."

Taken aback, all Y/N could do was laugh, "What? No! You guys are crazy. The only person Jace loves is himself." She rolled her eyes, grabbing a few pieces of popcorn.

Clary spoke up, "When I first learned I was a Shadow Hunter and Jace brought me to the institute, I thought he was cute, but then I saw the way he looked at you, and I thought you two were a thing for a whole month until I saw you making out with a mundane near Pandemonium."

"I remember that!" Izzy giggled, turning to Y/N, "Clary freaked out and came running to me saying that you cheated on Jace and that we needed to tell him. It was so funny trying to explain to her that the two of you weren't a thing."

"My point is," Clary interjected, looking at Y/N, "Jace Wayland has been pining over you for so long. He's extra protective of you. When you came home crying a few months ago because the dirtbag cheated on you, Alec had to stop him from hunting him down and killing him without a second thought."

Y/N sank in her chair, blinking, "I had no idea."

"You're just a little oblivious; it's okay," Izzy said, patting her head.

She shook her head, "It's late. I'm going to bed."

She exited the chair and said goodnight to the two girls before leaving the kitchen.

She was going to bed, but then her feet decided to take her to where she knew Jace would be at this time of night.

The garden.

She opened the door quietly, searching for the blond among the flowers and plants, when she spotted him sitting on a bench. He was reading a book that she couldn't read the title of because of how old it was. She walked over to him and placed her hands in her sweater pockets, "You know how to read?"

He looked up at her from his book, "Sneaking up on people is supposed to be my thing."

"You'll have to learn how to share. May I sit?"

He nodded, closing the book with a bookmark between the pages, and moved to one side of the bench to make room for her to sit, "Are you okay?"

She nodded, "I will be. Thank you for being there for me back at Pandemonium and in the training room earlier today. I needed to hear the truth. Even though my stance on the fact you need to work on your comforting skills stays intact." She teased him lightly, making him chuckle.

"I'm sorry you had to deal with the Vampire alone while I was defending your honor; it won't ever happen again."

"It better not." She chuckled, leaning back and relaxing on the bench, stifling a yawn, "Because I might just have to kill you myself, then."

"As if you would dare lay a mark on my greatest asset." He gestured to his face making Y/N roll her eyes and slapped his hand away.

"That ego of yours is going to be the death of me one day. Do I have to worry about you falling in love with your own reflection and drowning because of it like Narcissus?"

Letting out a laugh, Jace shook his head, looking up at the time on his watch, the very one she had gotten him for his last birthday, "It's getting late. You need rest."

"So do you," she fired back, standing up and glaring at him, "We need you at the top of your game, come on."

He chuckled, standing up and holding the book against his hip as they left the garden together and walked through the Institute.

"Do you need some tea to help you relax?" She asked, tilting her head up at him.

He smiled down at her, "No, I can manage."

They approached their rooms silently, he walked her to her door, and she nodded, "Goodnight, Jace."

He watched as she disappeared into her room, closing the door behind her, but he didn't move to his room next door, even though he should have.

No, he thought about how he realized Demetrius' words were true. He loved her and didn't know what to do with this information.

He raised his hand to knock on her door again, wanting to get the rejection over with, but just before his fist could make contact with the wood, the door opened, followed by her voice saying, "Jace, wait." before getting cut off by realizing he was standing there still.

The two stood there wordlessly, staring at each other. No one knew who made the first move that night, but soon Y/N felt his hands cupping her face as their lips touched.

It felt right, kissing Jace; he was gentle yet passionate, as if he were making up for the lost time, which he was. As it turned out, so was she.

When they broke apart for air, nothing could stop their mutual smiles from appearing on their faces as Jace rested his forehead on hers.

"Sleep in my room tonight? We can talk about this in the morning."

He nodded, picking her up over his left shoulder, causing a light squeal to leave her lips as he walked into the room, closing the door with his foot.

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Chapter 1 - An affair to remember

A/N: Here we have a new idea of mine, I thought I’d give it a shot. Leave a comment, heart or reblog if you enjoyed reading this! 

Pairing: Tony Stark x F! Reader 

Warning: 18+ age gap.

Word count: 2.8k

An affair to remember

.

You tiptoed around the foyer to head upstairs, being as silent as you could so as to not wake anybody. 

“Ah shit!”

You cursed under your breath as your elbow bumped into the wooden railing of the stairs, smarting a little as you rubbed it. You weren’t much of a rule-breaker but every now and then, you liked to let loose, especially since your best friend Isabelle was back in town. Her travel schedule was crazy and she spent months in remote jungles photographing the wildlife there. 

Tonight you, her and your friend Sebastian met up at Blarney Cove - your favourite pub for a much needed catch-up. One drink led to four and then escalated until you lost count, you danced and sang your heart out, shared gossip and avoided Sebastian’s drunken advances all night. You wished he would just give up, you practically grew up together and he was always a friend for you, but his feelings developed into something more, your didn’t. A part of you felt bad for having rejected him so many times, especially since he was quite the catch. He was tall, handsome, a smooth-talker plus his family was filthy rich and had the world at their feet. You two got along like a house on fire and it was always a good time with him but you just wished he would stay in his limits. 

Izzy had been a witness to it all, she was your sounding board, and someone who always knew the right things to say. Somewhere her heart went out to Sebastian since he was so evidently smitten but she never coaxed you to do or act on something you were never going to feel. Only a couple of years older, she was like the sister you never had. And with her gone most of the year, this meetup was extra special.  

You stumbled your way up to your room, closing the door quietly before rushing to the bathroom where you hurled the contents of your stomach down the toilet, cursing yourself for having made terrible choices of drinks. 

Who’s idea was it to down five tequila shots back to back anyways? Oh yeah, that was you. 

Not bothering to change, you threw yourself on your plush bed, falling asleep almost instantly, thinking of the absolute field day you’d have tomorrow. 

.

Faint music reached your ears as you roused from your slumber, a dull ache in your muscles and head made itself evident almost instantly as you sat up, rubbing sleep from your eyes. Letting out a groan at the sight of your runny mascara now stuck to the back of your hands, you threw the duvet off your legs and made your way to the bathroom to clean up.

The Advil you stashed in the mirror cabinet came in handy, you really were ready to sleep off that hangover but you realized it wouldn’t be possible since your parents were hosting a party today for a bunch of people you didn’t care about. Still, as a part of the Y/L/N family, you were expected to show up. 

Texting your friends to come over for a pool party, you got dressed in a cute summer dress and made yourself look less hungover with a little bit of makeup. With one last glance in the mirror, you made your way downstairs where polite chatter and terrible lounge music grew louder and louder. 

Plastering on a smile you greeted everybody, making polite conversation while looking out for your parents who were deep in conversation with one of their suit-clad friends who had his back to you. Your father beckoned you over with a wide grin on his face upon locating you, by the looks of it, the champagne had been popped rather early today. And your Dad was already on his third mimosa, chuckling loudly at a funny remark his friend made before wrapping you in a hug. 

“There you are, my love. Meet Mr. Stark, he’s a dear friend of mine. And Anthony, meet Y/N, my slightly hungover daughter.” 

“Dad!” you nudged him, not missing the eye-roll your mother threw your way. Nothing ever got past him, but still, he was the coolest Dad you could’ve asked for. You smiled at the man in front of you, offering your hand confidently. 

“In her defense Carl, Saturdays are officially meant for nursing hangovers. Nice to meet you, Miss Y/L/N.” he shook your hand with a friendly smile. As your hands touched, there was an unmistakable spark you felt, something warm, cozy and yet electric. You were sure he felt it too because he glanced down at the same time you did, releasing it with a deliberate chuckle. 

“Kids and their cliched habits.” your mother muttered, shaking her head disapprovingly. 

“Parents and their stereotypical beliefs.” you retaliated, grabbing a mimosa for yourself from one the trays the waiters were passing around. 

“Come on Jen, she’s visiting, play nice.” your father pulled her aside before you could react, not wanting the situation to escalate further. You saw them bicker in hushed whispers as they walked away, leaving you with Mr. Stark who raised his glass, waiting with a sympathetic smile. 

“Troubled childhood?” you asked, not exactly knowing how to make small talk with him.

“Oh you have no idea.” he flashed you a grin before downing the rest of his drink, raising his eyebrows in a challenge while you did the same. 

You couldn’t help but notice how very, very good-looking he was for his age. Neatly trimmed beard, sharp blue suit that looked tailormade for him, a charming smile that caused your tummy to flip. This man was definitely one of the best looking forty something year old you’d ever met. 

“So Miss Y/L/N, what do you do besides rage on a Friday night?” 

“I am a freelance photographer, mostly portraits. I work with fashion magazines and models for portfolios. And please, it’s Y/N, Mr. Stark.” 

“Interesting. And it’s Tony for you. You graduated three years ago, right? I remember Carl showing pictures some time ago.” 

You nodded, continuing to describe your line of work as he asked more questions, showing genuine interest. It made you realize he was quite easy to talk to, he had funny quips and anecdotes to share that had you in splits and you ended up chatting for a long time before your friends showed up and pulled you away.

You felt his lingering stare at the back of your head as you made your way inside, a part of you had not wanted the conversation to end so soon. 

Changing into a red bikini, you slathered waterproof sunscreen down your body and jumped in the pool with your friends while the ‘adults’ carried on with more booze. Izzy was sharing one of her stories about an encounter with a lioness in Tanzania when Sebastian dove in right next to you, making a big splash just to annoy you. 

“What are you twelve?” you grumbled, swimming away from him to let your friend continue her story. He got busy with getting cans of beer with the other guys soon, much to your relief. 

“Is he doing the whole ‘pushing you down the swing and pulling on your pigtails’ from kindergarten now?” Izzy giggled, handing you a bottle of your favourite beer. 

“I mean, ew!” you rolled your eyes, glancing over your shoulder at Sebastian who was smirking at you, giving you a wink. 

“Going out on a date with him wouldn’t do you any harm, Y/N. I’ve heard he’s great in bed and it’s about time you got your cherry popped.” your best friend suggested, yelping when you playfully kicked her so she slipped underwater. 

A couple of hours passed when Tony found himself standing near a window in the guest bedroom that overlooked the pool in the backyard, the dull buzz from the drinks that were had during the course now somewhat settled. His gaze trained on you as you lounged on your favourite flamingo floatie, legs on either side, a relaxed smile adorning your features.

There was something about you that drew him in from the first moment he laid eyes on you, you were intelligent, funny and simply gorgeous. The more you spoke, the more he realized how passionate you were about your work, the way you unconsciously played with your hair when he’d asked questions, the cute little frown as you thought about your answer, he found it all very endearing. 

What was happening to him? Was he attracted to a girl half his age? One he’d only met a few hours ago? The daughter of his business colleague…someone who was young enough to be his child…it was wrong on so many levels. 

Oblivious to his internal monologue, you were joking around with your buddies, Tony felt his pants getting tight at the sight of your wet bikini that did nothing to hide your pebbled nipples; it didn’t help his situation when you simulated riding someone by grabbing the head of the inflated flamingo and rolling your hips suggestively, before falling back in the water in a fit of laughter. 

Glancing down, he felt embarrassed to see his tented pants, running his hands over it, he slipped in the bathroom to take care of it. Lucky for him, the bathroom window also offered a view of the pool, thankful that you couldn’t see what he was up to, Tony freed himself and began steadily stroking his cock, imagining what it would feel like if it were your dainty hands instead, or those perfect lips wrapped around him, swallowing his length until you gagged. He imagined what your pussy would feel like, warm and tight for him to deflower. 

He came with a grunt after a few deliberate strokes, cleaning the mess he had made with tissues before heading back out. He wasn’t used to feeling like this. 

No. 

Nobody had ever evoked such carnal desires before. He certainly never believed he’d find himself masturbating in a bathroom like a horny teenager while watching a girl half his age enjoying herself in the pool. 

As he closed the bedroom door behind him, he collided into you. 

“Oh I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark! I–I mean Tony.” you steadied yourself against his arm, before letting out a nervous chuckle. 

“No harm done. Drink responsibly, kid.” he jested, his previous state of embarrassment washing over him once more as his eyes drank in your form. Still wet from the pool, now a white towel covered your shoulders, small droplets inching their way down the silky smooth skin between your breasts…

“Dad said you’re staying for dinner?”  

He cleared his throat and frowned at your question. 

“Didn’t know I was. But I guess it’s difficult to turn Carl down once he’s exceeded his whiskey limit so I guess I’ll see you.” He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. 

You said your goodbyes and he excused himself to go downstairs, not before seeing you head to your room which happened to be right next to where he’d just come out of.

All through dinner, you could sense simmering tension between the two of you, or maybe you were just imagining it. He didn’t engage in much of a conversation with you, in fact he avoided eye contact for the most part but on a couple of occasions, you found his eyes on you, darting away quickly whenever you caught him.

“You should see Y/N’s work, Tony. She is incredibly talented.” your father bragged, giving you a proud smile. 

“Dad, stop! I don’t think Tony I mean, Mr. Stark’s interested in tha–”

“No. I’d love to see it actually. In fact I have an interview lined up with a magazine soon, I could recommend her if she’s interested.” Tony looked up at you expectantly, completely catching you off guard. 

“Really? I–I would love to! Wow! Thank you so much.” 

Your surprised expression made him smile before your Dad thanked him for giving you the opportunity. Your mother remained quiet as the conversation unfolded, eyeing you two with quiet suspicion. 

“Anyone up for a night cap?”

When Tony politely declined your father’s offer, you took the chance to invite him to your little home studio you had set up down in the basement. Your obsession with photography began in school when you were still living here, and with your Dad’s help, this room had quickly turned into a space where you would spend most of your teenage years.

Switching the light on, you gestured to the room where you had hung several of your previous works of photography up on the walls, a working station that housed all the chemicals that you used to develop them, especially ones with your old film camera that you still used. 

The walls are adorned with pictures you had taken over the years, some black and white portraits of your friends, a few candids of your father and a few others he didn’t recognise. 

“I didn’t know they still used these.” Tony murmured as he looked around, quite impressed with your work. All of the pictures you had up there had managed to capture raw emotion in them, something spontaneous and genuine about the expressions. 

“They probably don’t, but I do. My grandfather gifted me my first camera, I still use it to this day. I can’t ever think of giving it away. I don’t know, I still prefer the old school method of developing, I find it quite charming.” you explained, following him as he stopped to admire more of your photos. 

A faint smile played on your lips as you observed Tony walk around your space, his eyes trained on pictures in front of him, each one evoking a reaction from him as if he could read the true intent hidden behind them. 

You couldn’t pinpoint if it was the lighting in the room that made him look extra handsome or just his general charisma but you grabbed your old camera quietly and decided to photograph him. 

“This is very impressive work, Y/N. Truly, you are a talented indeed, I think–”

He saw a flash that cut him mid-sentence, taking him by surprise as he realized you had taken a picture of him. 

“Sorry. I had to. It’s a good one. Here.” you showed him what you’d captured, standing a little too close for him where he could breathe in the smell of your citrusy shampoo or was it berries? He wasn’t sure. It was enticing enough to become a fast favourite of his. 

Tony didn’t need to see the picture before decided he was going to have you as his photographer for the interview he had. Inhaling your scent, he brushed your hair aside with his fingers, making you look up at him, your heart racing at the simple gesture. 

“You’re hired.” he murmured, his brown eyes glancing at your lips, allowing himself to move just a little closer. You could smell his cologne mixed with a touch of whiskey from earlier, his warm breath unsteady against your own. 

You didn’t know what came over you, but you reached up to press your lips to his very lightly, almost apprehensive about your actions. It ended too quickly as realization of the moment washed over you and you stepped away. 

“I–I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that.” 

You sprinted back upstairs without as much as a second glance at the man you left in your basement, feeling his lips that still lingered with your touch, with a mind that contemplated the moment that passed, rethinking if it did or it was all in his head. 

You had kissed him, and Tony’s uncertainties regarding that magnetic pull he felt towards you slowly dissolved into a desire for more. 

That night you lay awake in bed, replaying everything that happened throughout the day. All stray thoughts eventually led to the same thing.

You had kissed Tony Stark. Not an accident.

It was because you wanted to. It was an impulse you couldn’t shake off. Like you had to kiss him, your body was naturally drawn to the man who was twice your age, possibly older. A part of you was sure he had wanted you to do it, while the other part worried how inappropriate it must’ve been.

What if you’d screwed up your chance of that assignment he had offered? Surely he would have thought you had crossed a line? Oh God, what if he was married? As far as you remembered he wasn’t wearing a ring, or was he? It seemed like such a blur now. 

Covering your face with your hands, you groaned loudly before turning to your side, willing yourself to fall asleep. There was a familiar ding of a text message on your phone, when you opened it, it wasn’t from a number you recognized. But upon seeing the name of the sender, a smile made its way on your face. 

Come by Stark tower tomorrow to discuss the details of the photoshoot. And perhaps stay for a drink later? - T.S

[dragon-kazansky]

Spirit of the sea

Izzy Hands x Reader (GN)

You were a member of Blackbeard's crew long ago. Then you became a ghost story. Izzy Hands only sees you in his dreams these days, until he sees you for real when investigating Stede Bonnet. This sets him on a rollercoaster of emotions between you and what his captain is doing.

♡♡♡

Chapter One - Ghost stories

Chapter Two - Delusional

Chapter Three - Can you see me now?

Chapter Four - Just like before

Chapter Five - Rocky waters

Chapter Six - Out in the open

Chapter Seven - Blind Man's Cove

Chapter Eight - Captain Hands

Chapter Nine - Changing of the tides

♡♡♡

Season 2 content from here

Blackbeard rules the sea. Despite wanting his captain back, Izzy realises his mistake. Protecting the crew is his concern. Protecting you is his life mission. Stede's return brings hope, but there's a lot of work to be done before this crew becomes a family.

♡♡♡

Chapter Ten - The Kraken

Chapter Eleven - Indestructible little fucker

Chapter Twelve - Captain, oh Captain

Chapter Thirteen - Loving touch

Chapter Fourteen - Healing Hands

Chapter Fifteen - Night to remember

Chapter Sixteen - Sea on fire

Chapter Seventeen - The unicorn and his sparrow

Epilogue

♡♡♡

[bullet-prooflove]

Stockton!Series Part Six: Times Are Changing - Nestor Oceteva x Reader (feat: Bishop Losa & Marcus Alvarez)

Tagging: @anime-weeb-4-life @danzer8705 @drabbles-mc @alwaysachorusgirl @witches-unruly-heart @mysoulisasunflower @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @est1887 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @thanossexual @lexondeck @weiwei0210 @trublu2u @justreblogginfics @oklahomapeach @keyweegirlie @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx @fanfic-n-tabulous @beardedbarba @adaydreamaway08 @librarian1002 @kishie8 @saltyunicorn079 @thebaileybugle @spaghettificationandpretzels @nu1freakshow @doggirlforever @beccabarba @legally-a-bastard @wnbweasley @skyesthebomb @msjava1972 @trublu2u @fleureeee @jp1019 @thiashazzywriting @jeybae @collegegirl83

Stockton!Series:

Part One: El Cuchillo - An incident in the clubhouse causes ramifcations for the entire club.

Part Two: Always - Nestor learns about what happened.

Part Three: In the Dark - You and Nestor wake up to find armed men in your house.

Part Four: Sierra - Marcus takes care of the men who tried to kill you.

Part Five: Maternal - Nestor and you take refuge at a familiar location.

It’s past midnight and Marcus sits alone in Templo. He’s taken the seat at the head of the table, his fingertips flicking through ‘The Good Book’, the one that Marcus had created when he founded the club all those years ago. Their history, their rules, their legacy, it’s all contained within these pages.

It’s been horrible couple of days, for him, for the MC, for his family, because that’s what you are to him, family. His daughter, born of fire and blood, the one that Ramos had tried to murder in her sleep, all over a grudge from something that happened when you were a child. Something you have no knowledge of, that’s he’s determined you’ll never have any knowledge of.

This book it plays a part in that.

As he reads it, he recognises the ramblings of the angry, violent man he used to be. The monster he calls it now, when he talks to Izzy.

He raises his head as Bishop enters through the stained-glass door. In each of his hands he holds a mug of coffee, the real stuff. Marcus would know that aromatic scent anywhere, it’s the same brand he keeps in his house. He sets one of the mugs in front of Marcus before he takes up residence in the V.P’s seat.

“Hell of a day.” Bishop says rubbing his hands over his weary features.

“Yea.” Marcus says as he picks up his coffee cup and takes a sip. “I’m just hoping they got the message otherwise things are about to get real fucked up.”

“Stockton was already fucked up. Things will change now Ramos is gone.” Bishop assures the other man. “Smokey’s tough, he’ll rein them in and the ones that don’t fall into line…I won’t shed any tears for them.”

Marcus shakes his head.

“I won’t either.”

There’s silence between the two of them for a moment, each man lost in his own thoughts. It shouldn’t have come down to this, they should have dealt with this problem long before Ramos had ever laid eyes on you.

“I haven’t seen that for a while.” Bishop utters, gesturing towards the book.

Marcus sighs heavily.

“Probably for good reason.” Marcus says before he turns the book towards Bishop.

The other man studies the words before shaking his head.

“It was a different time back then.” Bishop says, removing the cigarettes from inside of his kutte. He taps the box upon the table before removing one and placing it between his lips.

“We talk about women as if their property, something to be owned, to be traded when we get tired of them.” Marcus jabs his finger at the paper. “This book tells us their only good for sex or serving, it doesn’t talk about love or respect. Is it any wonder that charters like Stockton act the way they do when these are the values, we’ve instilled in them?”

Bishop lights up his cigarette, he takes a drag.

“The world is changing El Padrino. We have to adapt.” Bishop says as he taps the ash off the end of cigarette. “We care about our women here; we cherish them but other charters… It needs to be a message that goes out across the club. What happened the other day can’t be allowed to happen again, not to anyone. There needs to be repercussions for that type of shit.”

Marcus nods his agreement, his hands wrapping the mug.

“I’m proud of that you’ve done here primo, legitimising the MC, supporting the community.” He tells Bishop earnestly. “This charter’s become more than I could have dreamed of.”

“And all it took was for me to pull my head out of my ass.” Bishop remarks before he takes another drag on the cigarette as he watches Marcus withdraw an A6 notebook from the interior pocket of his kutte. He pushes it towards the other man with his fingertips.

“This is what I’ve put together, a revised edition of the by-laws.” Marcus tells Bishop before he drains the rest of his coffee.

Bishop reviews the changes before tapping his fingertip upon the paper and raising his eyes to meet Marcus’s.

“We need to talk about Taza.”

Marcus clasps his hands together, his lips pursing into a grim line.

“We have to lead by example El Padrino,” Bishop tells him, his voice gruff as he stubs out his cigarette. “He has suffered for so long under the weight of this secret, putting the club before himself over and over again. I can’t help but wonder how many other Tazas are out there, how many other brothers are struggling with something just like this and what happens to the ones that aren’t as strong as him.”

Marcus knows what he’s talking about, the suicides that leave no notes, the members that are quietly taken care of for an infraction that can’t be discussed.

“We have to do better.” Bishop tells him, picking up the cigarette box and tapping it upon the surface of the table.  “Every single one of us deserves to love who we love and not be punished for it.”

“You’re right.” Marcus says finally, picking up his pen and adding the amendment. “I’ll get this drawn up and sent out to the other charters.”

Marcus raises to his feet, tucking the notebook back into his kutte. His hand comes to rest upon Bishop’s shoulder, clasping it tightly.

“You’ve been leading the way for a while now, primo. It’s time for the other charters to get in line and follow.”

Love Nestor? Get added to his tag list!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[lulubunny0]

Eyes of the Soul:

Part two |

Jace X fem/reader

Summary: After y/n had that moment with Jace she felt on edge while around him. She wanted to talk to him but he was avoiding her. Y/n comes to find herself taking care of a very intoxicated Jace.

Warnings: no readers under 16 please, smut, fluff, tension, fighting, blood, cursing, not proofread, strong language, long story, drunk, the use of y/n, none of these characters are mine except for y/n.

A/N: I’m sorry the last one did not have any title, i wrote it all during classes and was so not focused. This one will be done more detailed and a lot longer. This is also a part two from my first fanfic post(should be pinned if not it has a gif of Jace shirtless in a door way).

______________________________

After we got home Jace went right back to being a ghost. I couldn’t get his eyes out of my head, and how his hands felt on my waist. “Asshole.” I whispered under my breath alone in my room of the institute. I looked up at the ceiling and closed my eyes but everytime i did I kept seeing that look that I’ve never seen before.

I got up and changed into my training out fit. My black tank top, black spandex shorts, and my black boots. While walking to the training room I took my stele out and started to draw on my wrist the flexibility rune. Walking into the training room I sighed then set my stele down. I put in some ear plugs and set my playlist to shuffle. As I tuned out the world around me, I focused on hitting the punching bag. Swing, “y/n.” Kick, “y/n.” I went to swing again at the bag but felt someone grab my wrist.

I took my ear plugs out and turned to see Jace. “Y/n, thats enough. If you’re gonna train at least do it the right way.” He pulled my shirt up just a bit and brushed his stele over my healing rune. I scoffed and turned away from him. ‘Asshole.’ I thought, ‘You don’t have any right to act like this after being so distant.’ But thats what I’ve always had to take with Jace. Him being completely distant to me but then completely fine with everyone. As if I had done something towards him.

“Could say thank you, you know? Its only polite when someone helps you.” He said sending a steam of anger and frustration through me. I scoffed, “Oh thank you so much. Oh and also thank you so much for actually talking to me for once Jace.”

He crossed his arms at me and starred at me with hurt expression almost. I didn’t mean to be so distasteful toward him but thats all his is to me. He only plays with my head for fun. “What are you talking about?” He stayed where he was as to not be mistaken for the punching bag.

I turned around facing him and stepped closer to him. “Don’t play dumb now. You act as if I don’t exist then play your stupid ‘play with peoples heart’ games. I’m not some girl, I have lived with you here in the institute for five years now. We where like best friends, you, Alec, Izzy, and me where all so close. Then one day you just act as if I did something to make you hate me.”

He stepped toward me while uncrossing his harms. He brushed his hair back with one hand then cleared his throat. “I don’t hate you. I never have.“ “Then why do you act like it?” He went to say something but stopped and tightened his jaw as if he was holding back some truth to his statement. “I understand if you dislike me or hate me but could you at least treat me with respect and not just mess with me when your bored?” I didn’t give him the chance to finish, I picked up my stele and walked back to my room in frustration.

______________________________

A knock at my door made me let out a light grown as I was just about to fall asleep. I got up, wearing grey short shorts and a light (your favourite color) sports bra. I opened the door to see Alec holding a what seemed to be a very intoxicated Jace.

“I’m sorry, I know its late but me and Izzy need to run out on a mission on short notice. I was wondering if you could just watch him a bit while we are gone?” Alec seemed in a hurry, even though the last thing I wanted was to baby sit Jace but I owed Alec for the other day. I nodded, Alec helped Jace to my bed and laid him down. “Thanks y/n, if he acts up don’t fee bad for beating him up.” Alec smirked then left closing the door after him.

“Mmm. Why is my bed smell so good.” Jace slurred his speech while turning over and barring his face into my blanket. I sighed walking over to him, “Come on, lets get you at least semi dressed for bed.” I said pulling him over. His eyes met mine and a smile I hadn’t seen in a while came over his face. He grabbed my hands and pulled me onto him. I fell onto his chest with his arms hugging me tightly as to keep me from leaving.

“I know your mad at me but at least I can do this in my dreams.” He mumbled to himself while nuzzling his head into the side of my neck and shoulder. “Jace, this isn’t a dream. Come one lets get these shoes off and get you to bed.” I said while trying to get up. Even though I missed this side of Jace, all soft and nice. He put his arms around my waist and looked up at me as I leaned back.

His eyes had that same look in them as they did the night at the club on top of the car. He leaned up and kissed neck then slowly kissed up my chin to my cheek while tightening his grip on my waist.

My face heated up and turned a light red as he stopped to look into my eyes. He placed on hand on my cheek and smiled. “I hate not being able to tell you the truth y/n. But you’ll want nothing to do with me if you new how I felt.” His speech slurred but I heard every word as if he wasn’t drunk and didn’t think this was a dream.

His face came closer to mine and lightly met his lips to mine. He closed his eyes and kissed me deeper making the melting feeing run through my body. I slowly kissed back before realising he was drunk and not fully conscious. I forced myself to pushed him back. His eyes looked into mine with a begging look as if he wanted more. “Jace, this isn’t a dream you’re just drunk. You don’t mean any of thi-.” Before I could finish he flipped himself and me over.

He pinned me down and started kissing me more forcefully with a feeling of hunger for more. I grabbed onto his shoulder but felt him grab my arms and put them over my head. He broke the kiss panting a bit while looking down at me. I could feel something pressing against my leg. I blushed more as my body was more honest then my words where. “Jace, no, you ca-.” He bit my neck causing me to let out a light wince and gasp. His grip tightened on my wrist while he kissed over where he bit.

“I mean all of this. But am to much of a coward to… tell.. yo-.” He fell beside of me completely out cold. I panted for a second trying to catch my breath. I looked at the ceiling trying to comprehend what just happened. I felt my neck where he but me and got up. I took his shoes and shirt off then put a blanket over him. ‘You asshole.’ I turned off my light and got into bed with him. I got underneath the blanket trying not to wake him. I closed my eyes trying to forget what just happened as I was sure he wouldn’t remember anything he just did in the morning. I exhaled deeply then turned over trying to go to bed.

______________________________

“Y/n. You don’t know me, but you will soon. These people will try to take you from me cause they are scared of what is real. Soon you will come to know the true you. I will see you soon, my daughter.” I gasped and sat up fast. I panted a bit while looking around my room. ‘Just a dream.’ I felt something warm beside me and something holding onto my waist. I looked over to see Jace still asleep.

I moved his hand and got up. I put on a jacket and went to the kitchen. I brushed my hands through my hair while remembering everything from last night. If only I would be as lucky as Jace to completely forget it all. Especially since it meant nothing.

I waited for the coffee to finish, I was lost in thought. ‘Why do I feel like this. It’s Jace, of course he’s gorgeous but he doesn’t think of you like that. So why do you think of him like..’ My thoughts where interrupted by Simon shaking me. “Y/n!” I turned to see Simon and smiled. I hugged him and laughed, “Oh my angel! Hey!”

He laughed with me and backed up. “How have you been? Sorry I haven’t been around lately. Me and Clary have been trying to find a rime to visit.” I shook my head and smiled, “No no you guys are fine. Its just good to see you. Is Clary here too?”

He shook his head while grabbing two mugs, “No she went to see her mom in Idris.” My eyes looked over to a tired and hungover Jace. My heart started to beat a bit fast as I then heard Simon shout, “Did someone bite you?!” I felt my heart stop and heard Jace start choking on the orange juice he had started to swallow before hearing such a question.

Simon went to touch my neck but I stepped back and laughed nervously, “What? No, heh, I was just messing around and got bit.” “By a vampire?!?!” I shook my head fast at Simons response, “No no no, I was, uhh.. I was with someone last night.” ‘What did I just say.’

Simons eyes sparkled and smiled teasingly, “Oh? Y/n found herself someone? He’s definitely not a vampire though, right?…” I laughed and poured coffee into my mug and took a sip. “Yeah no, not a vampire. More like a little puppy.” “Oh my god!! A werewo-.” Simon went to shout again from excitement but Jace had slammed the fridge. “Y/n, can I talk to you real quick?”

I followed Jace to the hall and back into my room. I leaned against the wall as he had his back to me. “Why was I in your bed when I woke up.” He said but instead of a question it was more of a demand for an answer. “Alec dropped you off at my room because he needed to leave with Izzy and wanted someone to watch you. I took your shirt off incase you puked on it. Then you fell asleep.” I bit my tongue as I thought of what happened before that all. He turned to me and slowly walked toward me. He tapped his neck, “Then whats that?” I put my hand over the bite mark as I completely forgot I could have just used my healing tune.

“It’s really no big deal Jace. You where just a bit drun-.” He turned around, “Fuck. So it was not a dream.” I hugged myself as I looked away a bit embarrassed for some reason. Scared of what his reaction would be. ‘I was probably just mistook you for another girl.’ ‘Oh ew. God your like a sister.’

“I’m sorry.” Jace said in a low tone. A sentence I had only ever heard him say once. I felt my stomach flutter as hearing him show sympathy instead of anger or discussed made me have, hope?

“No its fine, it was a mista-.” “No. No y/n. It wasn’t.” I was stuck by the wall like a statue from all the sudden truth Jace was saying to me. He turned around and looked at me with those eyes. Those beautiful, mesmerising blue eyes. He slowly stepped closer. I stood still as I looked up at him. “It wasn’t a mistake. Do you know how insane you drive me?” He lost me. Insane I make him? I went to argue but I felt his hand slowly touch my face just like last night. And those eyes look into mine, as if he was looking for a reason to walk away.

He slowly got closer to my lips, “I have never felt something like this for anyone in my life. I have never had such a instinct to take something.” He placed his forehead gently against mine. “I look at you and see what I should be to you, a big brother that watches over you and picks on you. But then something inside me just wants to hid you from every man in this world.”

I couldn’t speak, Jace Wayland, the man who had any women fall to his feet. Is telling me I, y/n, drive him crazy? “No fast come backs?” He teased with a light smirk, ‘theres that cockiness.’ “I never saw you that way. Till that night at the club. Its like you corrupted my mind and you where all I could think about.” I leaned up a bit with my lips just inches from his. “Then, last night, having you kiss me and have you begging for me. I can never see you any other way but as someone that I want.”

Jace took no more time and finally connected our lips. He kissed me gently at first but then started to kiss deeper. I grabbed his hair lightly as I kissed back. I then felt his tongue slip into my mouth and explore my mouth. My legs where starting to give out from under me as they trembled.

Jace slowly picked me up wrapping my legs around his waist. Pressing my back to the wall, not breaking the kiss once. I pulled his hair lightly making him let out a low grunt in between the kiss. He slowly trailed his lips down to my neck and started to kiss and suck all over it.

“Haa.. J-Jace..” I let out light moans, I felt something familiar press against my thigh just like last night. “Shhh, I know. Are you sure you want this?” He said panting lightly while not breaking eye contact.

I nodded my head, “Say it. Or I won’t do anymore.” He said which sent my stomach into butterflies. I then leaned forward and whispered into his ear. “Please fuck me Jace.”

______________________________

A/N: AHHHHH I know you where wanting the gooooood stuff buttt, I thought this would be a lovely place to stop for now. Since this story “Eyes Of The Soul” has hope to be more then just a smut, I though I could leave you guys with a little cliff hanger~

Butttt I hope you all are enjoying how the story is going so far. I apologise if there is anything spelled incorrectly, J haven’t had the time to re-read it and make sure everything was perfect. I do promise that part 3 will have a amazing smut scene since I have only been giving you guys a small taste. But I hope you all have a amazing night / day!! Till next time<3.

-|| lulu || / author.

[lousypotatoes]

Hello!

May I request a Mukuro Ikusaba x reader camping in the woods oneshot?

Into The Woods - Mukoro x GN! Reader

Song Recommendation:

Heart Of Oak - Richard Crawley

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

"Do you have everything?"

"Yeah, just gotta grab the bug spray,"

"Hurry up then,"

You and your girlfriend, Mukoro were going camping, something that you absolutely did not want to do.

Camping in the woods had always scared you, since you were a child, but Mukoro insisted that the two of you go, and you couldn't say no.

"Hey babe?" you asked. "How about we don't go, and instead watch a movie here?"

"Y/N, we already talked about this," she said, giving you a look. "It's confront this stupid fear of yours."

"It's not stupid!" you said, feigning your offense.

"No one else we know has a fear of camping!" Mukoro said, crossing her arms.

"Yeah, well it's a real thing! It's called Arkoudaphobia!"

"Whatever," Mukoro rolled her eyes. "Can we just go already? Please? I want to get there before the sun starts setting."

"You're lucky I love you," you muttered, walking out the door. "Or else I would of punched you as soon as you brought it up."

"Uh huh, sure you would."

"I totally would!"

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

"How do you do this?"

"How the hell do you not know not put up a tent?"

"I've never been camping before this," you huffed. "And besides, lots of people don't know how to put up a tent."

"Yeah, like little kids," Mukoro said, kneeling down. "It's basic survival skills."

"Yeah, well I never learned those kinds of skills," you said. "Can you please show me? Pretty please?"

"Fine," she groaned. "Okay, so you first have to attach the poles-"

"Which poles?" you interrupted.

"Those ones over there," she said, pointing to the poles laying in the dirt. "And then you fasten the poles through the tent, and then you just raise it."

"Raise what?"

"The tent," Mukoro groaned. "You raise the tent."

"Ohhhhhh," you said. "I get it,"

"You think can set it up all by yourself?" Mukoro asked.

"I think so," you answered.

"Good," Mukoro said, kissing your cheek. "I'm gonna go find up some wood for the fire. I shouldn't be long."

"Don't go too far," you said as she got up.

"Don't worry, I won't,"

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

"What was that?"

"Just the wind babe. There's nothing out there, I promise,"

You and Mukoro were in the tent right now, trying to go to sleep. Unfortunately for you, there were weird noises coming from outside, keeping you from falling asleep.

And unfortunately for your girlfriend, you being scared kept her from falling asleep.

"Mukoro, I swear there's something out there," you said, pulling your sleeping bag over your face, like a scared little five-year-old scared of the monsters under your bed.

But this time, there were monsters outside the tent.

"Y/N for the last time, there's nothing outside," Mukoro said, taking your hand in hers. "I know that camping scares you, but you seriously have to get over this fear,"

You sighed. "I know," you said. "It's just hard for me y'know."

"I know," Mukoro said, pulling you closer to her, your bodies touching. "But it's gonna be okay. I'll be here with you every step of the way."

You leaned up and kissed softly, your lips molding together.

You pulled away after a moment.

"I love you Mukoro," you whispered.

"I love you too," she whispered back. You didn't see it, but there was heavy blush on her face. "Now c'mon, let's get some sleep, we have a busy day tomorrow."

And with that, you closed your eyes, drifting off into sleep, comforted by Mukoro's comfort and words.

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

might make a part 2 tbh

OMG I GRADUATE IN 5 DAYS

I AM SO NOT READY FOR THIS

please join my discord, it'll be the best graduation present ever 🙏

stay safe and drink lots of water <33

xoxo, Izzy

[issie-https]

I loved reading your fanfics, could i ask you to do a story about Ménage à trois between Izzy Stradlin and Julian Casablancas from The Strokes, I'm crazy about these 2 mens!! and you can use my name if you want!!

Ménage à trois

Izzy Stradlin X Reader X Julian Casablancas

A/n: honestly, I kinda like this one🤷‍♀️ thank you for requesting! I’ve got some Nikki Sixx requests on the way😁

Word count: 1223

Warnings: smuttt(unprotected), blowjob, dirty talk, teasing, spanking, dacryphilia

Ménage à trois meaning:

an arrangement in which three people share a sexual relationship, typically a domestic situation involving a couple and the lover of one of them.

Main masterlist

༺✩༻

I woke up to my boyfriend, Izzy, slightly snoring. I decided to surprise him and Julian with a breakfast in bed. I don't do stuff like this often but they do a lot for me so, why not?

I make them a stack of pancakes each and a mug of coffee. I took Julian's first. "Julian, honey," I said softly, waking him up. "Hey," he rasped, sleep still in his voice. "I made you breakfast," I said proudly. "Aww, you're so cute," he laughed, tucking some hair behind my ear. "Eat up because we have some errands to run today," I said, putting the coffee on his nightstand and handing him the pancakes. "Do I have to come?" He groaned. "Yes, I'm dragging Izzy along as well so shut up," I laughed. "Fine. Love you," he said with a mouth full of food. "Love you too," I smiled, leaving his room and going to give Izzy his breakfast.

"Izz, wake up," I whispered, rubbing his arm. "You okay?" He asked, his voice deep from sleep. "Yeah, I made you breakfast," I smiled as he sat up. "Aww, you didn't have to, angel," he smiled, looking up at me. "We have some errands to run today, I've told Julian," I smiled. "Do we have to?" He mumbled. "Yes," I said, "I'm going to eat my breakfast. Come down when you're ready,".

I ate my food and went back upstairs for a shower. "Y/n?" I heard Julian call from the hallway. "I'm in the shower," I called back. He came in and closed the door behind himself. "I need you," he moaned. I looked down to see a bulge visible in his pants. "Aww, honey. Come here then," I cooed.

After an eventful... shower, I picked out my favourite leather skirt, a pair of tights and a white blouse, accompanied with my Mary Janes. "Thoughts?" I asked, giving Izzy and Julian a spin. "Gorgeous," Izzy said, exhaling some cigarette smoke. "Beautiful," Julian added, making me smile.

In all honesty, todays errands were getting some new clothes and also some new lingerie. I couldn't tell them that though because they'd just tell me to order it online or that they'll buy it for me but I like to make a day of it, y'know? Pamper myself for once.

We arrived at the mall and we went to Chanel first. "Seriously?" Izzy grumbled the second we entered the store. "Shut it," I glared at him. Next, we went to a random clothing store to get me a couple of skirts and dresses. Lastly, Victoria's Secret.

"Y/n. No," Izzy warned when I turned to the store. "Why? Don't you want to see me in some new lingerie?" I whispered in his ear. "Can't you just order it online?" Julian grumbled. "No, I wanna see what I look like before I buy it," I explained, grabbing their hands and dragging through the shop. "What about this one?" I perked. I got no reply so I looked around and saw both of them sat outside on their phones. "Little fuckers," I said under my breath.

I chose some pieces and went to the fitting rooms to try them on. I took some photos and sent them to Julian and Izzy, smirking at my pettiness.

Izzy: Get here now.

Me: No, I'm trying some lingerie on.

Izzy: You have five minutes.

I changed back into my clothes, went to the tills and bought all five pieces.

I went out to the guys to see them both scowling. "You okay?" I smirked. "Car. Now," Julian ordered. I smiled and turned on my heel towards the car park.

We arrived back home and I ran out of the car, inside and into the bathroom and locked the door. "Y/n Y/l/n. Open the door now," Izzy shouted to me through the door. "I'm changing. You and Julian can wait in the bedroom," I replied. "You're a bitch," he groaned under his breath.

I put on a white set and put my blouse back on but leaving the buttons undone.

I walked into the bedroom, seeing both of them sat on the bed, waiting for me. "Thoughts?" I asked for the second time that day. "You look like a whore," Izzy replied, scanning me with his eyes. I walked over to Julian and straddled him, looking into his eyes. "What do you think?" I asked him. "Same as Izzy," he replied blankly. I put on a fake pout, causing Julian to slap my ass. "I thought you liked it when I looked slutty?" I said, grinding myself on Julian's thigh. "Get up, now," Izzy ordered. I got off Julians lap and stood in front of them.

"Down on all fours, your gonna suck him off," Izzy said, standing up off the bed. I did as I was told, unbuckling Julians belt and helping him remove his pants, his hard dick sprung out, making my mouth water at the thought of him fucking my throat. I sunk my mouth down on his length, moaning when he finally hit the back of my throat. I felt Izzy behind me, rubbing his hands across my ass before giving me a hard slap, making me moan on Julian's dick. Izzy reached under me and unbuttoned my blouse and pulled it away from my body, leaving me in my lingerie. "Look how pretty you are," Izzy praised. He started rubbing his fingers on my clit, making me jolt a little from the sudden contact. Julian laced his fingers through my hair, tugging lightly. "You feel so good," he moaned as he pushed my head further down on his dick.

All of a sudden, Izzy removed his fingers from my clit, making me whimper at the loss of contact. I heard Izzy remove his leather pants and throw them somewhere in the room. He teased my entrance with his cock, holding my hip with his other hand. He slapped my ass before pushing his cock all the way into me, making me scream-moan as I felt him fill me up. Julian fucked my mouth, making my eyes fill with tears. "You're so fucking pretty when you cry," he said breathlessly. "Look at you, taking our dicks so well like a slut," Izzy groaned, quickening his pace. Sounds of skin slapping skin echoed through the room, adding to my arousal.

" 'm so close," I whimpered when Julian let me breathe. "Hold it," Julian said, slapping my cheek. The stinging sensation made me smile internally, liking the rough way they were treating me. Julian went back to fucking my throat as I felt them both twitch inside me. "Cum, princess," Izzy moaned as his thrusts became more sloppy. I came on his dick, moaning on Julian's. I felt them both cum in me, filling me up from both ends. "Good girl," Julian praised, rubbing my cheek. I swallowed his cum and Izzy pulled out of me. I felt our cum leak down my thighs. "I'll get a towel. You okay, angel?" Izzy said, standing up and walking to our shared bathroom. I nodded and mumbled a 'mhm'. He wiped my thighs then picked me up and put me in the middle of the bed. Both of them lay down beside me as we drifted off to sleep.

[dreamypqulson]

— all wrapped up in mistletoe

summary: you never expected the holiday season to be the time of year for you to fall in love with the kid you babysits mother. but as the christmas spirit grows, your relationship with ally does too.

pairing: ally mayfair-richards x reader

word count: 2100

"...And mom said we're gonna decorate the tree today, and then decorate Christmas cookies, and then watch elf!" Izzy went on and on the entire day, explaining just how his Christmas themed day would go.

It was December 18th, and surely, Ozzy was getting into the Christmas spirit even more so each day. You never got to experience a Mayfair-Richards Christmas before. You had met Ally right after the season, in January. It was nearly the anniversary to the Day you became close friends with her.

Typically, you would babysit Oz until seven while his mother worked. But she had managed to escape that place by five. You knew she did everything, after all the shit that went down with the cult, to make sure that Ozzy always came first.

Somehow, it had put a damper on your mood. It was sweet, really, how she got to spend the holiday season with her son. But it only reminded you that you are alone. You have nobody to spend Christmas with.

As Ozzy rambled about the rest of his day, keys jingled in the doorway. Eventually, Ally walked in. You turned around to stare at the older woman. Her hair only slightly tussled from the day, still in her jeans and sweater. You smiled lightly.

"Mom!" Oz said. He jumped off the couch and ran over to hug her. Without Ivy in the picture, he had become fairly close to Ally. You followed behind him but kept your distance. She still made you flustered when she came too close.

She looked over his head at you and smiled. Truly smiled. "Hi, y/n" she said, ever so soft. You could listen to her speak again and again, all day. The way she said your name; how it rolled off her tongue like melted butter. You always preferred a tranquil environment. Simply being alone with nobody to speak and annoy you. To just let you be. But with Ally, you wanted her to talk to you, to touch you, to even yell at you. Whatever it was, you just wanted to be with her.

"Hi,” you responded and suddenly hated the way your voice sounded. Hated how you looked. Hated everything. You needed to be perfect for her, if there was even a chance of her having mutual feelings for you. But then her eyes softened and smile grew deeper and all your thought bubbles blew away.

"Mom, can y/n stay and decorate with us?"

"Oz, that's alright. I don't want to intrude." Your cheeks became a deeper shade a red. He was a child; her didn't know the affect he would cause by this.

"It's okay, you're not intruding," Ally says, and as if she notices your burning hot cheeks, she steps forward and cups them with her cold hands. "I would love for you to stay and decorate. The snows coming down really hard right now, anyways. I don't want you driving home in that."

You can't tell if she truly wants you to stay, or just doesn't want to feel the guilt if you were to get into an accident. But something about the way that she brushes her thumb over the expense of your cheek and how her free hand rests on your hip gives you a better idea.

You clear your throat before speaking, for nerves had closed it up, "Alright then. Thank you." Ozzy had run back into the living room where boxes of ornaments had been waiting all day for him. Ally finally let go of you but you could still, somehow, feel where her hands were as if she left marks on you. Her eyes, however, could not leave you alone.

"How was Oz today?" Ally asked, expecting you to answer as if she hadn't stolen your breath, voice, and composure at the least.

"He was good. He couldn't stop talking about all of the comic books that he asked 'Santa' for." The older woman smiled, simple and sweet. It quickly faded and she looked down at the wooden floors, like they were the most interesting thing; she wouldn't advert her eyes elsewhere.

"You know, it's his first Christmas without Ivy...he's had some tough moments. I'm glad you're here to make it better for him." Eventually, she looked back up, gazing deep into your eyes.

"He's a good kid, i'll always be here for him. And...you too, you know, if you ever need anything." You fiddled with you fingers, nerves, once again, fluttering in your stomach. Her soft smile reoccurred.

"Thank you, sweetheart. And you'll always have a home here too." I want you to be my home.

You hadn't gotten a chance to address her comment, as the young boy was already getting antsy. "Mom, Y/n, hurry up!"

-

'Rocking Around the Christmas Tree' filled the living room along with laughter from both you and Oz. Ally watched from afar with a gentle smile that stretched from ear to ear. "So you're telling me that Santa knocked down your whole christmas tree?" Oz asked, unsure of your story.

"I swear it! And he tried to make it up by giving me an extra chocolate bar in my stocking!" Ozzy chuckled at you as he hung up the last of the ornaments on one of the lower branches.

"How'd you not wake up?"

"I was five and absolutely terrified of him."

All of a sudden you felt arms snake around your waist, hot breath against your ear as the woman spoke, "Well I hope one of you isn't absolutely terrified of putting the star on the tree?" Ally teased. You shivered as her   breath hit the back of you neck and her Vanilla perfume coursed through your veins.

"Can y/n put it on this year?" Oz asked, turning to his mother. She had a rustic yellow star in her hand that had clearly been used for years on end.

"You sure you don't want to do it? You're way lighter than me, buddy." The tree was taller than all three of you and you surely could not emotionally handle being lifted up by Ally.

"Please? It's your first year with us!" He looked up at you with pleading eyes. You looked over at Ally, she smiled and nodded at you.

"Ozzy is right, sweetheart. It is your first year with us." She knew how to get under your skin in the best way. She was aware of the affect that she has on you.

"Alright fine," You gave in, a grin teasing at your face. You grab the star from Ally and stood in front of the tree. Her strong arms gripped your waist and your feet lifted effortlessly off the ground.

"Don't drop me, please, Ally," you said, voice trembling. You placed the big star on the top branch, pushing it further in to secure it.

"I'll try not to," her voice was airy, teasing. Once you were done, rather than putting you back down, Ally walked you over to the couch and lightly tossed you on.

"Ally!" You yelled, your laugh completely demolishing your pout. Before you could stand back up, the older woman began to relentlessly tickle your sides. "A-Al-"

"Nope, you're not getting away. This is what the star person has to endure," Behind the haze you were in from hardly being able to breathe due to laughing, you were still able to catch a glimpse of Ally biting her lip and smiling.

Eventually she began to show you mercy and let you off. You stood up once you caught your breath and fixed up your tussled hair. "Not nice," you called.

Like a child would, she stuck her tongue out at you, teasingly, then winked, "I told you, that what happens when you're the star person."

-

"What is that?" Ozzy asked, astonished, to his mother who had been decorating her own christmas cookie as you and the young boy both did alongside her.

She looked up at her son, a grin teasing her lips. "What do you mean? It's a gingerbread man," she said, with an airily laugh.

"Looks more like a monster," Oz remarked back. Ally dramatically gasped, placing her hand on her chest.

"Does not! Y/n, tell him."

You looked over at Oz, as if you were going to take Ally side, but then said, "I don't know, Ally," you looked down at her plate, "I mean, at least you baked the cookies well?"

"No way! You two are so mean, ganging up on me." She looked over at you, biting her lip. You assumed she tasted sweet from the frosting she had been licking off her finger and you wondered what would happen if you tested out that theory right this moment.

"Hey, don't be bitter just because Oz and I are the worlds best cookie decorators. Isn't that right, Ozzy?" You turned to the little boy and smiled. He high-fived you and vigorously nodded.

"I'll show you bitter alright," Ally said, playfully, and before you could process her actions, she had swiped red frosting across your nose. You gasped, trying to hold in your laugh by a single thread.

"Oh, you'll pay for that." You got up to wipe it off your face, planning your revenge. When you were over by the counter, you turned back around when you felt a body press against you.

"Let me help you with that." She eyed you hungrily, like she was planning her own ways to wipe that frosting off. She smirked, ravenous, however, you wouldn't let her get to you. Before she could clear you off the sweetness on your face, you reached behind yourself to grab some of the extra frosting and gently smacked her cheek with it.

"You didn't!"

"I did. Now we're even, huh?"

Ally stood completely frozen, staring at you with her mouth agape. "Uh-Uh," she said, and when you least expected it, she reach behind you and pulled the same stunt, "Now we are, darling."

-

"Okay, Oz is in bed. I was thinking we could watch a christmas movie and then head to bed too," Ally spoke as she walked down the stairs and over to you. You stood, leaned against the doorway, gazing at the Christmas tree you had decorated with the two of them. For once, you felt like you've found a home, a family, even if you forced yourself to believe that it was unrequited.

You turnt your body towards her, for once tonight, your body was relaxed. But the air was tight, tense, there was something flying in the air yet it was out of hands reach. Something tugging at both you and Ally's lips yet too tender to release.

She joined you in the doorway, and in the moment, her eyes didn't burn holes through your chest, making your heart burn all that faster for her. Right now, in this moment, you felt at peace and everything felt right, felt light. It was quiet, dim.

"So um," Ally begins, and almost as if you'd transferred your nerves onto her, she seems flustered, hesitant. She looked up, above you both, "Looks like we're under the mistletoe."

You don't catch on at first, too entranced at the way that the christmas lights gleamed onto her face, highlighting her sharp cheekbones and jawline. You finally looked up and noticed it. "It seems as if we are..."

Neither of you want to say it, want to make that confession, but it's almost a non-verbal request, because Ally begins leaning in closer towards you and, eventually, your tasting the vanilla frosting and eggnog from earlier. And like a greedy one would, you want more, so you take it. Your hand is feeling the warmth behind her neck to pull her closer, her own is gripping your waist to hold a steady pace.

Once air is being breathed again, you stare deep into her eyes, only mere inches apart. She's the first one to speak up, "I've been trying to resist you forever, but it's been incredibly difficult tonight."

"You haven't exactly been helping a situation," You raise a single eyebrow at her. She laughs at you, fully, and her cheeks turn a deeper shade of pink. She goes in for another kill, swiftly pecking your lips with a simple kiss.

"So...is this my christmas present? That I get an extremely pretty girlfriend?" Ally asks.

You grin at her, "Only if you want. I'll be generous and let you decide this year."

She rolls her eyes at your antics, but then she tugs you towards the couch with her hands and lips and that itself certainly gave you a pretty clear idea of her decision.

taglist: @loverofallthingssarah @goodeday2u @lanawinters-ily @strawberryshorttcakkee @sapphicforsarahh @ahsfan05 @stayevildarling @isle-of-earle @cordithatgurl @mistysswampmud @billiedeansbitch @billiedeanspearls @cigaretteology @favoriteredhead @lovingsarah @cordeliass @citizenoftheworld-stuff-blog

message me or send an ask to be added to my taglist!

[marksbear]

Hello! I was thinking could you do vampire male reader who is also very rich x izzy hands. Since there are not of male yn or trans male yn x izzy hands🥲🥲. So the revenge were getting hunt down by the navy or it can just be another pirate or something else it's actually up to you. so they need to find a place to hide for at least a month or so. They were quite desperate and izzy at first he's just gonna keep quiet but, the crew at this point they were just shouting and paniking and don't know what to do so izzy suggest to go to his "FRIEND" 's house . At first they thought it would be some kind of creepy barbaric pirate village full of dangerous people.

However at this point no one cares anymore so izzy tells the location. When they arrive they were shock because in front of them is a huge mansion by the sea. Even tho they are still shock they follow izzy inside and there they were greeted by yn with a big smile on his face when he see izzy( yn has a pale skin due to vampirism with the reader eyes color hair color) . They were even shocker when yn kiss izzy cheak. Izzy just got red, brush it off and said that they are just friends however Black beard glare at yn with an unpleasing look on his face. Yn welcome them and inside and after explaining the situation, they just kinda chill around the mansion asking question of how izzy met yn ( yn said that he met izzy when he is in the navy which is a lie)(izzy is actually a sacrifice for yn because izzy's old village thinks that yn is a god and give izzy to yn so yn can bless them with luck, rain, wealth etc.) and how they got together. At the end of the day they all went to bed. But edward and lucius were curious of yn. How did yn even care to look or even took interest in izzy due to that they met when izzy is just a navy, why is yn skin so pale like he's sick or sth. Ed and lucius bump into eachother and decided to go look around the place. Then they see someone. Y/N bitting on izzy's hand with his sharp fang gently drinking the blood that comes out ,asking why havn't izzy wrote anything to him, kissing him , and cuddling izzy. Then when ed and lucius is about to leave or well escape cuse yn is not normal and seem to be a creature stede used talk about. A blood sucking monster aka vampire. They both made eye contact with yn. While being frighten to the spine. Yn raise his finger to his mouth and make a silence hand gesture.

Ofc. You don't have to do it cus it would probably be really long . Anyways thank-you🥰

Yeah I got this BUT it's probably gonna miss a few details since it's a lot to fit into one story! WARNINGS! Vampire reader, FTM READER, Talks about sacrifice, Mentions of God. Powers

Izzy hands x Ftm vampire reader

The revenge was on the run. Stede had somehow angered five different pirate ships and now it's chaos on the ship. Everyone on board trying to figure out ideas trying to live another day.

"WERE ALL GONNA DIE!!" Frenchie screams while running around on the front deck. Wee John silently agrees with Frenchie's comment and that single comment started even more chaos on the ship. The two captains argue with one another while scrambling across the ship trying to defuse the chaos so they can both try to get out of this situation.

Lucius and Black Pete spots their distant first mate mumbling something under his breath. The pair assumes its insults so Lucius pipes up "What are you doing first mate dizzy?" The deck becomes silent with only a few giggles that can be heard. "Yeah iggy, did you have something to say?" Black Pete says with a smirk.

The first mate grumbles something from under his breath and repeats what he said "I said I have a friend we can stay at for a few months..." His voice became softer after he said the friend part and also his cheeks became a small shade of pink that no one noticed. The crew starts to celebrate and Izzy tells buttons were to go to the "friend" house.

It only took a few hours to get there, but once they reached land Izzy stopped them. "Alright hold." He turns around and looks over the crew to see if they look good enough. Once he decides that they look decent the only person who had to leave something was buttons and he had to leave the bird.

"Okay you cunts better be on your best behavior! No foolin around okay!"Izzy shouts at the crew. The crew agrees and they get back to walking. Once Izzy sees the huge mansion he shouts "Were here!" Izzy rolls his eyes at all of the gasp and whispers.

They all walk up to the house and Izzy knocks the door two quiet knocks and one loud one. The crew all looked among themselves when they heard the strange sequence. Their heads snap forward as the door opens with a small gasp they heard from outside the door.

"YOU CAME!!! You finally came back Israel!!" All of the crew looks confused at the stranger that skips towards their first mate and wraps their arms around the first mate's shoulders. Ed and Stede change their sights on the stranger and towards izzy who has a small smile on his face and a faint blush.

Stede turns his vision back at the stranger and looks at what he's wearing. He lets out a gasp when he sees the stranger's pale skin,long white fingernails, and weird in-human eyes. The stranger is wearing silk black pants with a rich robe but it's untied and loose on his shoulders and he takes note of the stranger's chest that has scars under both pecs. And he decided to ask later.

"Hello izzy" The stranger says to Izzy with the biggest smile on his face and the stranger places a kiss to Izzy check right on the tattoo and Izzy face becomes a deep red. Izzy whispers into something into the stranger's ear while he ties the stranger robe so the crew can stop gawking at him.

The stranger turns around and faces the crew with a small smile. " I am Y/n l/n, you all are in my care it's a pleasure to meet all of Izzy's crew he tells me that y'all are in danger so please" Y/n signals them to follow inside and they all do "Please don't touch anything!" Y/n shouts sincerely. Y/n gives them a tour of the house and tells his maids to get their things sorted. And tells some of the chefs to prepare a feast for his guest.

Once everything was done they all went into the dinning table and took their seats. Some of the crew were surprised that some of the maids would bow their heads at Izzy and some even called him "Master Hands" and Izzy would just wave them off.

"So how did ya meet?" Edward says looking at you and Izzy sitting right next to each other having each other yall's own conversation. "We met in the navy" the lie just slides off of y/n tongue and Izzy side eyes him knowing that he just lied but decides to not say anything. Y/n goes on about how he met Izzy in more detail and that seems to please the crew.

"If i may ask how'd you get the scars?" Stede interrupts Y/n story and causes Izzy to snarl at Stede and opens his mouth to defend Y/n but Y/n raises his hand to izzy to stop him from stabbing Stede. "It's nothing really. In the navy i was in a life or death situation and I had to get something out. So I did and got these scars from it" Y/n says with a smile. In his defense it wasn't a full lie. He was going insane from being a woman so he decided to get them removed. His father was supportive of him and decided to help with the removal.

Ed was sending death glares at you and it was obvious you saw them and smirked. So Y/n used one of his powers to speak into Ed's mind taunting him that he'll lose Izzy to you forever. And that made him do an outburst yelling at y/n calling him the devil. Which caused him to smirk but hide it and act like he was hurt from his words and yelled at everyone that the "dinner was off go into your rooms!" And grabbed izzy hand taking them upstairs.

TIMESKIP EVERYONE SUPPOSE TO BE SLEEP

Izzy And Y/n was in their shared room together with scented canals that lit the room so it looks warm and fancy. The pair was on the couch discussing what happened with their lives to the other while they were apart. "Does that idiot of a village still believe that you're a god?" Izzy asked while caressing Y/n naked chest. The question makes Y/n giggle and nods "yes my love, be thankful that my followers brought you to me as a meal. If not we wouldn't be like this now" Y/n answers with kissing izzy on the neck. "May I love?" Y/n looks at Izzy for permission. "It's been way too long without your sweet taste my boy." Y/n licks Izzy's neck but whines when he gets pushed away. "No neck today my god, you can do my hand instead." Y/n lets out a silent pout but doesn't argue and takes Izzy's hand and kisses and licks the vein and sinks his fangs into the flesh. The taste of his mate's blood makes him moan and sucks more. He pauses for a minute and looks back up at Izzy "Have you been getting my letters? Why haven't you written back? Wh-" Y/n gets cut off "Stop being a twat and just eat, we'll talk about this later." Izzy huffs. Y/n silently agrees and gets back into his meal. After a couple of more seconds Y/n eyes shoot up at the door frame and see Blackbeard and Lucios standing there with their mouth wide open looking terrified. Y/n hand signals them to be quiet and speaks threats into the pair's mind. Y/n eyes glow at them and use his power to slam the door shut.

Y/n lets go of Izzy hand and looks at him with a bloody smile "im so glad you came back to your god."

[stedefxckingbonnet]

requests info/intro!

hi, everyone!

i thought i'd take a quick second to introduce myself and to also formally open up requests. i'm already working on a few things, but requests really do always help and feel free to submit them at any point--but, we'll get to all of that in a moment!

my name is lavinia, and i am a uni student studying both theatre (dramaturgy specifically) and creative writing! i love to sing, act, write (obviously haha), read (i am a huge fan of classic literature, as well as donna tartt, mona awad, sally rooney, elif bautman, and ottessa moshfegh's works), go to concerts, go to the movies, style/design clothing, paint, collect records/cds, and so much more! this barely scratches the surface really but, if any of you share these interests, always feel free to reach out!

anyhow, as i said, i will officially be opening requests, and at the moment here is the media and the characters i will write for:

Our Flag Means Death

Izzy Hands (my BELOVED)

Ed Teach

Stede Bonnet

Lucius Spriggs

Jim Jimenez

Oluwande

Mary Bonnet

(more available upon request! these were just sort of my first instincts.)

Gilmore Girls

honestly, i'm pretty open to anything unless it's dean. just request and i'll see what i can do!

Gossip Girl

Blair Waldorf

Serena Van der Woodsen

Dan Humphrey

Nate Archibald

Chuck Bass (like sometimes)

Rufus Humphrey

more available upon request.

The Fosters/The Good Trouble

Callie Adams Foster

Mariana Adams Foster

Brandon Foster

Jamie Hunter

Gael Martinez

Dennis Cooper

Malika Williams

more available upon request.

Select Wes Anderson and Tim Burton characters. just ask!

Enola Holmes

Enola Holmes

Tewkesbury

Sherlock Holmes

Little Women (2019)

Jo March

Amy March

Beth March

Meg March

Laurie

Friedrich Bhaer

Star Wars

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Anakin Skywalker

Padmé Amidala

Luke Skywalker

Han Solo

Leia Organa

Kylo Ren

Finn

Poe Dameron

Ahsoka Tano

more available upon request!

Pride & Prejudice (2005)

Basically me just saying I'll write Mr. Darcy. but more characters available upon request, of course.

Community

Abed Nadir

Troy Barnes

Annie Edison

Jeff and Britta I'm a little iffy on but with the right request, maybe. don't hesitate to ask!

The OC

Seth Cohen

Ryan Atwood

Summer Roberts

Marissa Cooper

The Umbrella Academy

Klaus

Viktor

Ben

Five

Diego

Allison

Luther is like, not preferred for me but if you feel strongly about him and have a good request, i’ll consider it but don’t get your hopes up too high!

Once Upon a Time

Emma Swan

Regina Mills

Killian Jones

Neal Cassidy

August Booth

Jefferson (The Mad Hatter)

Mulan

Ruby Lucas (Red Riding Hood)

Belle French

Mary Margaret Blanchard (Snow White)

David Nolan (Prince Charming)

Peter Pan

Robin Hood

Any others, feel free to ask! I know I left Mr. Gold (Rumple) off, but that's only because it depends with each request. Also, please specify if you want it to take place in Storybrooke pre or post curse, or in The Enchanted Forest.

Merlin

Merlin

Arthur

Gwen

Morgana

Nimueh

Lancelot

any others, feel free to ask. i am just starting S2, keep that in mind.

The Holdovers

Angus Tully

Dead Poets Society

Todd Anderson

Neil Perry

Knox Overstreet

Charlie Dalton

Steven Meeks

Love Lies Bleeding

Lou Langston

Jackie Cleaver

i'll just start there for now, as honestly it's been a bit since i've written an x reader and i don't want to overwhelm myself much! but please, feel free to request at any time! I will update this frequently, as I am always either getting into new things or remembering things I already love. I am mostly dedicated to OFMD right now, but you may also leave requests for other fandoms and I will keep them on file, or who knows, perhaps even get to them sooner than you may imagine! Have a wonderful day (or night!), and don't forget to request!

yours truly,

lavinia

me filing through all of your requests (hopefully!)

[purifycantyouhelpme]

November Rain | Izzy Stradlin x Fem! Reader

AO3 Link<3

Word count: 1135

A/N: I'm finally done with this fanfiction. I can finally post the first chapter of the Duff Mckagan x reader story.

Summary: You and Izzy decided to walk together in the rain. This takes place in the early 90s. This is all in Izzy's point of view.

November 13th, 1993, 7:00 PM

It was night time, I was wearing a white, large sized jacket with a hoodie since I was pretty windy outside and I was wearing a gray backpack. I was at the liquor store, buying some snacks for when I get home. I would shop at that store that (Y/N) works at but it was about to close.

I gave the cashier about five bucks.

"Have a good day!" The cashier said.

"You too." I said back to cashier.

I walked out of the store with the bag of my snacks in my right hand. Suddenly, I felt it sprinkling on my shoulder. That's odd. Right I was about to look up, it started to rain. Thank god, I was still standing under the roof of the liquor store. It was raining pretty hard. The wind was blowing pretty hard to the point where the leaves were coming off the trees.

Thank God, I saw the weather on the weather channel and brought an umbrella just in case. The umbrella was in my backpack. I took my backpack off, open it and grabbed my black umbrella. I took it out, opened it and put it over my head.

I looked to my right and I saw (Y/N) walking from a block away. She was still wearing her work clothes. I'm guessing she didn't get any extra clothes. Is she coming this way?

_________

She was walking while talking to someone. She and her friend stopped in front of the liquor store. I was staring at her. Does she know I'm there? "I'll see you tomorrow, Rebecca." (Y/N) waved at her coworker who was walking to her home. (Y/N) was just standing there all by herself.

"Hey (Y/N)." I said to her. I walked up to her, away from the rooftop. I was standing next to her with the umbrella still over my head. "H-Hi Izzy." She said. Her arms were crossed because it was cold. I checked her out, just to see that she doesn't have an umbrella or a jacket on. "Where's your jacket?" I asked her as I pointed at her.

"I forgot my jacket and umbrella at home." She told me. Well, that was obvious. "I didn't know it was going to rain later." She place her hand on her cheek and started going up and down. She felt pretty embarrassed. "You can stand under my umbrella." I said. She walked to me so that she can stand under my umbrella. She was next to me, under my umbrella. "Where is your house?" I asked her.

"It's a couple of blocks away." She said. "Just keep on walking straight." She added on. "Okay." I looked away from her and I look straight ahead.

We both started walking straight. She was on the side of me, walking with me. We were walking for a minute or two and it was getting tired of hearing the wind blowing in the distance, the t leaves in the trees rustling, and the rain pouring. Maybe I should make conversation with her. "So how was your shift?" I asked her.

"It was awful as usual." She said in an angry tone. "I had to deal with a lot of angry customers--" Before she was about to finish her sentence, she jumped into a big puddle. I stopped walking as soon the water hit me. I looked down to see that the water did indeed get me. The water splashed all over my pants and shoes and it also splashed on (Y/N)'s clothes but she didn't mind. "Now my pants and shoes are wet. Thanks (Y/N)." I groaned. She laughed a little. We started to walk again. "Like I was saying, I had to deal with alot of angry customers. There was this girl that kept on yelling at me because I told her that her card declined." She was looking at me. I looked at her back.

"Then she told me that she could get the turkey for free because it's Thanksgiving month." She was getting angrier. "Then she demanded me to speak to the manager, it was very aggravating." She facepalm in anger. "I know, people suck." I agreed with her. People are assholes sometimes.

I reached in my bag and I grab a Snickers bars. I put the candy bar in her face and said, "Do you want a snack?" She looked at me confused.

"I'm not in the mood for candy." She declined. I'm kinda glad that she said no because I wanted the Snickers bar. I opened the Snickers bar and took a bite out of it. It was delicious.

I took a small bag of Tortilla chips out of the bag and tried to hand it to (Y/N). She turned her head a little to looked at the bag. "How about some chips?" I asked with my mouth still feel of Snickers. "Ok." She grab the chips out of my hand and open the bag. She was eating the chips but she was eating the chips with her mouth open. I later swallowed the food. "You chew so loud." I pointed out. I could barely hear myself talk, that's how loud she was chewing. "Sorry, I haven't ate anything all day." She said, she continue to eat the chips with her mouth open. There was crumbs all over her work clothes.

________

Minutes later, we were still walking. A few seconds, (Y/N) stopped in front of a white house with a grey roof. She stopped walking so I figured I stopped too. I look at the house a little more. It was an apartment complex house with one grey door. It was pretty big apartment. It had a porch light, a welcome mat, and a garden in the front yard.

"So, I guess this is where you live." I said as I stopped looking at the apartment. "Thanks for walking me here, Izzy. I appreciate it." She thanked me. She looked at me and smiled

"No problem." I smiled back slightly.

She kissed me on the cheek. I started to blush a little. I put my hand on my cheek where she kissed me at and rub it a little.

"Bye Izzy." She walked up the little steps to her door. Going through her purse, she found her house keys and unlocked the door. "I'll see you tomorrow, I guess." I smiled at me. She has such a pretty smile.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow." I waved at her with my left hand. She went inside her house and shut the door. Now, it's time to walk back home.

[dragon-kazansky]

Spirit of the sea

Izzy Hands x Reader (GN)

You were a member of Blackbeard's crew long ago. Then you became a ghost story. Izzy Hands only sees you in his dreams these days, until he sees you for real when investigating Stede Bonnet. This sets him on a rollercoaster of emotions between you and what his captain is doing.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Warnings: Swearing. Mostly Izzy, sometimes you, but mostly Izzy. Angst too.

Chapter Five - Rocky waters

♡♡♡

We've been almost a fortnight aboard the Revenge... and I'm beginning to suspect that Edward nas no intention of ending Stede Bonnet's life.

If I didn't know better... I'd say he's somehow become seduced by this imbecile.

You catch Izzy writing in his journal as you walk past his cabin. He had been rather quiet the past couple days, at least as far as you were concerned anyway. He hasn't noticed you in the doorway. You smile at the sight of the wooden sparrow on his desk. You knew he would like it.

You know that the longer Izzy is aboard this ship, the worse it gets for him. You've kind of adapted to the way the crew do things round here. It's a change of pace from your days on Blackbeard's crew.

As Izzy scribbles away, you decide to interrupt gently. With a soft knock to his already open door, you smile as he lifts his head to look at you. He snaps his journal shut and drops it beside him on his cot.

"What do you want?" He asks, trying to look annoyed by your interruption, but you can see through him.

"Thought I'd come check on you. Everything good?"

"Just peachy," he let's out an exasperated sigh. You chuckles softly as step into the room with one foot.

"We'll be off this ship soon. Sailing back aboard the Queen Anne leaving ruin in our wake. Doing things we used to do."

Izzy stares silently into space at the thought.

You step a little closer to his bed and take a seat. You can see how tired he is. The man never seems to stop: always working, never resting.

"When was the last time you slept?" You ask him.

"Last night."

"All night?"

He eyes flicker up to meet yours. He looks less than impressed, but he also can't hide anything from you. The sigh that escapes his nose tells you enough.

"I know you hate it here, and that you want Blackbeard back so we can return to our ship and our life, but you also need to give it time, Izzy."

"It's been a fucking weeks."

"I know, but surely he has a plan. He's our Blackbeard."

"That's the problem," Izzy starts. "I don't think he's our Blackbeard anymore. I think he's been seduced by Bonnet."

"Seduced?"

"Last night... last night I was up on deck. I could hear them. They were... I'm pretty sure they were fucking."

"Out in the open?" You ask, wide eyed.

"Sounded like it."

"Ew, Izzy, why were you listening to them?"

"It wasn't on purpose!" He groans. "I think Edward might be... in love with this guy."

You fall silent as you think about it. It made sense in a way. Edward was always where Stede was. They kept in the same cabin. They talked constantly. They were always looking art each other.

"Well shit..."

"Exactly!" Izzy huffs.

"I mean... Is it that bad if he is?" You ask him.

Izzy stares at you. "Bad? It's a fucking disaster."

You gaze down at your lap. "He's the happiest I've seen him in ages."

"It's pathetic."

You glance up at Izzy. "Love? Or the fact you're losing Blackbeard to Bonnet?"

Izzy glares at you.

You stand up from his bed and move over to the door. You glance back at Izzy. "I would be so lucky to have what they do."

Izzy watches you leave. He stares confused at the space you occupied only moments ago. Your words and the expression on your face, it felt strange to him. What did you mean by that? Were you jealous of Edward? No, that was nonsense. Izzy knows you better than that.

Izzy thinks he knows you better than that.

♡♡♡

One of the crew's favourite things to do was tell stories. If it wasn't Stede reading them a fairytale, it was telling ghost stories.

It was entertaining, even if they didn't always make sense.

You were sat on the steps near where Izzy stood with Ivan and Fang. You could hear them talking behind you. You were watching Ed where he sat by Stede. The latter was telling one of his ghost stories.

"So, is the plan off?" Ivan asks.

"Yeah, I reckon we're not killing this guy now." Fang chimes in.

"The plan is very much alive." Izzy says. "He promised me."

You listen to them.

"It just seems that he's having an awfully nice time," Fang says, looking at Izzy. "I mean, look at him. He's telling ghost stories."

"This is the most open and available I've ever seen him." Ivan states.

You sigh and get up, walking last the crew and heading below deck. Izzy watches you go, not once looking away until you were out of sight.

♡♡♡

You're sitting in your dark little corner when you head footsteps coming toward you then stopping. You don't have to look up to know it's Izzy.

"You alright?" He asks.

"Yeah."

He sees the way you're sitting with your knees up, arms draped over them. You're not even looking at him. He sighs quietly.

"You're not. What is it?"

"Nothing, Izzy."

"You can talk to me, ya know."

You glance up at him. You can't read him for his blank expression. You're not sure what he is trying to do.

"What happens if Edward doesn't kill him?"

"Then I'll take matters into my own hands."

"Will Edward even let you?" You ask.

"Does it matter? We'll get our captain back and we can go back to our lives. We... we can be a crew again."

"We're not a crew now?" You gaze up at him.

"Not with this lot."

You turn your eyes away from him and Izzy exhales through his nose in a sound of slight desperation. He doesn't want you to turn away from him.

He says your name softly. "This isn't our home."

When you say nothing he clenches his jaw and walks away. You listen to his footsteps fade. When you're sure he's gone you sigh.

♡♡♡

You stand on deck the next morning as the ship is shrouded in fog. The crew of the Revenge have no idea what's going on, but you sailed with Blackbeard long enough to know.

A Fuckery, as he liked to call it.

You lean against the railing of the ship as you wait. Once Stede arrives, dressed in pretty pyjamas and gown, Edward demonstrates the art of "Fuckery", which leads to the Swede jumping over the side of the ship.

Ed promptly stops his theatrics so someone can get the Swede back onboard.

Izzy promptly comes out, looking up at Ed who is still hanging from the mast. "May I have a word?" He asks, grabbing at Blackbeard's boot.

"It's a bit like theatre, isn't it, Ed? Theatre of fear!"

"Ha, theatre of fear, love that!" Ed grins back at Stede.

"His name is Blackbeard, dog!"

"Well, I'll leave you to it. It looks like there's trouble in paradise." Stede walks off.

You stick around just long enough to see Izzy try and help Ed, but he gets fed up after being caught between his legs. Izzy storms off leaving Edward hanging.

Ed looks at you.

"Help?"

You shake your head and walk off too. He can get out of his own mess.

You follow Izzy to find him with Fang and Ivan. He looks at you as you get closer to him. There is something about the way he is looking at you that sends your heart thumping.

"Where's Blackbeard?" He asks.

"Hanging out."

Izzy doesn't react, but Fang giggles and Ivan grins.

"You with us?" Izzy asks.

"Izzy..."

"No. It's important that I know you're with us," he says. "You don't want to stay with this lot, do ya? You're so much more than they are. You're wasted on a crew like this." Izzy speaks softly, almost gentle. This isn't like him at all.

"Why is this suddenly about me?"

"I-"

Izzy is cut off by Edward entering. You turn around to see him looking less than impressed.

"You left me hanging." He looks at you with a flat expression. You don't even react. "What the fuck's all this?"

"Do you remember your policy about let's aboard your vessel?" Izzy asks.

"Pets? Yeah. No pets. They befoul the ship."

"You know what else you said?" Ivan asks. "You said the love of a pet makes a man weak."

"I said that?"

"Yeah, when I joined your crew, you made me put my dog down." Fang tells him.

"Yeah, OK. Well, yeah, vaguely... remember that."

"So, here's the rub. Me and the boys, we think you've begun to view Bonnet as a sort of a pet." Izzy says. "You're in too deep, Edward. Beat thing to do, end it quick."

"The longer you wait, the harder it gets..." Fang says, getting upset. Ivan holds Fang as he cries.

You stand between Izzy and Edward, not sure what to do. Edward walks off, making it a bit easier on you.

Izzy turns his eyes to you and then follows Edward out.

You look at Fang and step closer.

"There there, Fang. It's okay."

"He's in doggy heaven, Fangy," Ivan says, trying to comfort him.

"But we go to different heavens!" He cries some more. You pat him on the shoulder. Fang turns and pulls you into a hug.

You stay there awhile.

♡♡♡

You sit on Izzy's bed and wait for him. He takes a while to return, but when he does, he seems surprised to see you there.

"I was looking for you," he says.

You're sat on his bed with the wooden sparrow in your hand. You notice some detail has been added to it in ink, meaning Izzy is giving it some character. It made you happy to think this meant something to him.

"I've been in here."

Izzy watches the way you handle the gift you made him. You're being very careful with it, your finger tracing over the ink lines on the wing.

"You know I'm right," he says.

"Do I?"

Izzy closes the door to his cabin and stands in front of you, gazing down at you with his dark eyes.

"Bonnet has to go."

"Do you hate Edward being happy?" You ask

"No, I-"

"Because it seems like it," you cut him off. "Edward has found someone new. He's trying new things and kind of just enjoying life."

"We're pirates, we're not meant to enjoy life." Izzy hisses out.

"You didn't enjoy being on Blackbeard's crew?" You ask.

"Well, yeah."

"You don't enjoy sailing the seas?"

"Course I do-"

"You don't enjoy life?"

He falls quiet.

"Are you jealous that all of Edward's attention is on someone else, or are you jealous that he has something you don't?"

Izzy stares at you silently.

You put the bird back on the desk and stand up, looking Izzy in the eye. You want to say more, but you're not sure what. Izzy seems to read your mind.

"It will be over soon," he tells you. "Tomorrow night."

"Oh. So, that's it then?" You ask.

"Thought you'd be happy."

"Happy?" You huff. "You're the one who will be happy, Izzy."

"Don't tell me you're soft for Bonnet too," Izzy almost begs.

"I don't hate the guy like you do. He's actually kind of nice. He's kind, polite, funny if even unintentionally so."

"See, that's my point. He ain't a pirate."

"Izzy. Let the man live. He's doing his thing and he's still alive."

"Not on my watch," he says in a low voice.

You see the look in his eyes and you walk away. You're done trying to change his mind. This thing with Stede was between Izzy and Edward.

You weren't going to get involved.

♡♡♡

You walk into the kitchen to find Fang holding an unconscious Lucius down. Roach is sharpening a kitchen knife.

"The fuck?"

Fang looks up. "His finger is infected."

You lean over Lucius to see the state of his hand. His finger was horribly swollen. "Ouch."

"Seems to me the best move here is... amputation," Roach says, looking closely at the finger.

"Oh, for God's sake! He's a visual artist." Fang cries out. "You can't cut the boy's little fingies."

"Level with us, man." Pete grabs Roach. "There's no better option?"

"Not in my professional opinion."

You pull a face.

"Hold him down."

You sigh and help Fang hold the poor lad down. Just as Roach is about to cut the finger off, Lucius gains consciousness again. As soon as he realises what's happening he pushes both you and Fang away and runs off.

"It's only going to get worse!" You call. He's already too far gone.

You can't help but chuckle as Pete and Fang go after him.

This crew isn't so bad.

♡♡♡

The Fuckery goes about as expected. Except for the fact that the crew of the Revenge didn't raid the ship. They let themselves get boarded by the Dutch merchants and basically put on some kind of Shakespeare play.

It ended with Edward freaking out and hiding in Stede's bathtub.

Stede did not die.

Izzy was fuming. You stand beside the man seeing the way he was clenching his jaw. His fist was balled up and it took everything in you not to reach out and calm the man.

Edward was complimenting the crew on their performance.

Edward was enjoying himself.

Not anymore.

"Stede Bonnet."

You turn to look at Izzy. You curse under your breath. Yet, you shouldn't be surprised. Izzy did tell you he would take matters into his own hands.

"Draw your weapon."

"No, Izzy, we're not doing this." Ed points at him.

"No, YOU'RE not doin' this. So I must." Izzy steps down and grabs 2 swords. "Stede fuckin' Bonnet... I fuckin' challenge you to a fuckin' duel."

He tosses Stede a sword.you step in front of Izzy.

"Izzy, please."

"Move." He says your name softly.

"I accept your challenge," Stede says from behind you. You turn around.

"Stede, no."

"Stede, be careful. He does know his shit," Edward warns him.

Izzy uses his arm to move you out of the way. You glare at him as he steps closer to Stede.

"As do I. You've taught me well," Stede replies to Ed.

"Not that well," Ed admits.

Stede watches Izzy. "I assume standard duel rules apply. What are those exactly?" He asks.

"Let's make it interesting, shall we?" Izzy says. "The loser is banished from the ship, if they're not dead."

"Izzy, no!" You call out, but he ignores you. Instead he instantly swings his sword at Stede.

Stede manages to block his attacks

"Come on. Give a man a warning." Stede says as Izzy holds his sword up to his neck.

"That was your warning."

They start swinging their swords at each other. You stand there anxiously, watching. There is no way for Stede to beat Izzy. Israel Hands was the best man you knew with a sword.

Izzy gets a hit into Stede which stumbles the man backward. Izzy's swings become a little more furious. Stede falls onto the ground. Izzy stands over him with sword pointed down at him.

"Yield or die."

"I choose... this." Stede throws powder into Izzy's face, temporarily blinding the man. Izzy covers his face and stumbles backward. The crew cheer for Stede, but all you can think about is if you should step in or not.

Stede gets to his feet, he gives Izzy a smack on the backside with his sword. Izzy straightens up again and continues the fight.

Izzy disarmed Stede with ease. The gentleman pirate backs up against the mast.

"So, it looks like we've arrived, Bonnet. The end of the road." Izzy holds his sword up to Stede again.

"Alright. Let's call it a draw," Stede says, breathless.

"Nah, I'm good."

"Izzy, stop!" You try once more in vain, but it feels like he's ignoring you completely.

With a firm stab, Izzy's sword goes right through Stede's abdomen and into the mast, pinning him there.

You inhale sharply at Stede's scream.

"Did I do it right?" Stede asks Ed, looking at the other man. "He missed all the important bits..."

Izzy tries to pull the sword out, but to no avail. He pulls hard, grunting. You stare at him, mild confusion painting across your face.

"This mast... is made from the finest cherry wood in Brazil. It's rather strong, actually." Stede manages to say as Izzy continues to attempt to pull the sword out.

Edward looks flabbergasted.

You can't quite believe what you're seeing yourself.

"Shut up!" Izzy yells at Stede. "Don't you ever shut up?! You rancid rat!"

The sword breaks in Izzy's hand. The blade still pinning Stede to the mast. You feel a gasp escape last your lips.

Buttons laughs. "Well, now, Mr Hands. Reckon he's rendered your sword inoperable."

Izzy stands there with realisation on his face.

"By duelling tradition, that means..."

"Stede wins!" Frenchie yells. The crew all cheer. "In your face, Jizzy!"

Edward shrugs as Izzy looks at him.

You watch Izzy with concern. He walks off. You watch him. You don't care for what everyone else is doing. You take off after Izzy.

He disappears into his cabin, you follow him inside, not even knocking. He doesn't say anything to you about it as he faces away from you, shoulders tense.

"Izzy..."

"No." He speaks with a firmness, but not in an angry way. Just a firm 'no.'

"Izzy, please. That whole thing was stupid."

"You're telling me..."

You take a step closer to him hoping he will turn around and look at you. He remains facing the wall of his cabin.

"Just forget the duel! Forget everything."

"No. Rules are rules."

"Izzy..."

He turns around and looks at you, but only briefly. He looks like he struggles to look you in the eye.

"He promised me. I was fucking right all along. Edward's gone soft for that twat. Any trace of Blackbeard is gone and it's all because of fuckin' Bonnet."

Your arm twitches as if you were going to reach out and touch him, but you catch yourself. However, Izzy noticed the slight reaction in your hand. He kind of wished you would.

"Don't be stupid, Izzy. Stay. We'll figure all this out. Maybe there's another solution."

"No." He shakes his head, his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows thickly. He's angry. Silently angry.

"It was a stupid fucking duel. Are you seriously going to leave?"

"I'm not a coward."

"I didn't say you were," your voice is almost pleading. "Don't go."

"Rules are rules," he says again. For a brief second his eyes meet yours and you can see all the emotion bottled up inside. You want to reach out and hold the man, caress him, get him to open up and talk to you.

But he won't.

Your breathing becomes uneven as you try to fight off any emotion. You will not cry in front of him.

"So that's it then? You're going to fuck off and... and what? Leave me behind? I only just found you again and you're leaving me?"

"You could come with me."

"And do what? Izzy, what would be the point? I only just found my way back home," you tell him.

"No. This isn't home. This is a lie. A facade. Home was back on our ship, back with Blackbeard's crew. Home is... is where we belonged. It's where we lived together."

A tear escapes and runs down your cheek. This was your breaking point.

"Fuck you," you whisper.

Izzy stares at you.

"Fuck you and this whole fucking thing." You take a couple slow steps back toward the door. "Fuck off then, Izzy. Leave me behind. Maybe... maybe I should have stayed a ghost story."

You don't hang around. You turn on your heel and leave.

Izzy catches his breath as he stares at his empty doorway.

"Fuck," he whispers.

♡♡♡

@grippleback-galaxy - @askmarinaandothers - @godlikegallagher - @for-fuck-sake-im-alive - @whiskeyswriting - @lxsm2 - @bloody-bunni666 - @the-chocoholic-writer -

[bullet-prooflove]

Stockton!Series Part Seven: Graveside - Nestor Oceteva x Reader (feat: Marcus Alvarez)

Tagging: @anime-weeb-4-life @danzer8705 @drabbles-mc @alwaysachorusgirl @witches-unruly-heart @mysoulisasunflower @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @est1887 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @thanossexual @lexondeck @weiwei0210 @trublu2u @justreblogginfics @oklahomapeach @keyweegirlie @wnbweasley @skyesthebomb @dakotapaigelove @jadesamhart @sisinever @msjava1972 @trublu2u @fleureeee @jp1019 @thiashazzywriting @jeybae @thiashazzywriting @collegegirl83 @fanfic-n-tabulous @ravennaortiz @just-a-throw-away

Stockton!Series:

Part One: El Cuchillo - An incident in the clubhouse causes ramifcations for the entire club.

Part Two: Always - Nestor learns about what happened.

Part Three: In the Dark - You and Nestor wake up to find armed men in your house.

Part Four: Sierra - Marcus takes care of the men who tried to kill you.

Part Five: Maternal - Nestor and you take refuge at a familiar location.

Part Six: Times Are Changing - Bishop and Marcus discuss the future of the club.

The light shines through the trees, highlighting the colours in your hair as you stand in the cemetery before the grave of your mother, clutching a bouquet of sunflowers. For a moment it feels like Marcus has seen a ghost, Sierra standing in the midst of the greenery. He thinks that’s what Ramos saw that day in the clubhouse, Sierra’s ghost haunting him. When you tilt your head to look at him, he sees Javi’s eyes and he knows that’s the reason that Ramos tried to kill you that night. You were evidence of a past he didn’t want to confront, a reminder of what Javi had taken from him. A shot at a wife, a family. He wouldn’t have been happy until every last trace of Javi was eradicated.

For Marcus right now the past is overlapping the present. Sierra was never the same after the night Ramos hurt her, and neither was your father.

Marcus remembers the days you had spent at his home, him and Izzy looking after you because your mother couldn’t bring herself to leave the bed and your father was too busy trying to take care of her. He recalls you cuddled up on his chest as he read to you, putting you to bed and whispering sweet dreams before he turned the nightlight on.

Sierra had disappeared not long after that, they’d found her car at the Sonny Bono Wildlife Reserve. Her and Javi used to go hiking there, they’d taken you a handful of times for picnics. Her body had been found in the clearing you’d frequented; a suicide note tucked neatly in her purse.

I just can’t live with what he did to me, it had read.

Your father had gone after Ramos that night, he’d beaten him so badly he’d almost killed him. The only reason Marcus had put a stop to it was because of the shit that was going down with the cartels. Ramos was the lynchpin to the whole operation, if he died, then they’d be looking at a war and the cost of that, the bloodshed, it would have been far too much.

It’s not a pardon, he had told Javi, it’s just a stay of execution.

How wrong he’d been. Ramos had used his position and his connections to make himself untouchable in the years that followed. Javi had thrown himself into raising his daughter, being the best father he could be in Sierra’s absence.

It was your attack that changed things, Marcus thought. The powerlessness, the helpless, it brought back the memories of your mother, what Ramos had done to her. He thinks that’s why Javi started stalking Ramos, learning his routine. That’s what he’d been doing the night that he was killed, the cops had told them he’d been side swiped by a drunk driver, but Marcus knew the truth. Ramos had made his move and taken Javi out. He just hadn’t been able to prove it.

Your father’s death had sent you off the rails, it was the catalyst for everything that followed after.

Marcus clears his throat as he comes to stand beside you, in his own hand he holds a bouquet of lilies, not white but purple. It had been Sierra’s favourite colour. He puts his flowers alongside yours before straightening his spine.

“Do you think she’d be proud of me?” You ask him, the edges of his mouth tip up into a small smile.

“I think she’d like Nestor.” He tells you, clasping his hands in front of him. “I think she’d be wondering why you haven’t married him yet.”

You laugh, the back of your hand rubbing across the tears on your cheeks.

“I don’t think she’s the only one.”

Marcus bows his head before his gaze comes to rest upon the gravestone in front of him. He thinks of the last conversation the two of them had.

“You’ll look after her for me, won’t you?” Sierra had said when he’d visited her at the house. You were in school, and he’d wanted to give Javi a break.

“You’ll be looking after her soon enough.” He’d told her, smoothing the hair away from her face. “You just need to get yourself better.”

That had been the day before she’d driven out to the Wildlife Reserve.

“I think she’d be happy with the life that you’ve build, the fact you help people.” Marcus says finally, his arm coming to rest upon your shoulders. He feels you begin to tremble, hears the catch in your chest.

“I miss her.” You choke out and it breaks his heart because if Ramos had had his way, you’d be in the grave alongside of her, alongside your father. Your whole family would have been obliterated because of one man and his selfishness.

“It’s ok mija.” He says, his hand rubbing soothing circles over your back. “I miss her too.”

Love Nestor? Get added to his tag list!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[taintedpearls]

dogtooth, ellabs x reader headcannons ౨ৎ⋆

with special guest @satellitespinner !

dont buy tlou | free palestine

masterlist. | her version!

pairing: roommate!ellie and abby x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw at the bottom, no outbreak/modern au, fem reader, fluff and i think that's it?

wc: 2.1k

a/n: this is fully inspired by @beforeimdeceased chaotic roommates series! it's literally so good so you guys need to show her some love. me and izzie were texting and suddenly we just became genius' with so many thoughts... anyway i lov her and her genius mind! we have another ellabs collab coming soon 👀👀

roomate!ellabs who were best friends with you and when you needed a place to stay they happily invited you to join them on their lease !

cooking with them is... chaotic. but some days it can be good!

bumping your hip with ellie because she sucks at cooking and her getting all blushy and flustered

abby gently grabbing your hips to get around you

taking .5s of them ALL THE TIME!!

they hate it but you love it

they have no idea how to use the ring camera you installed, one day they've locked themselves out and are begging you to let them in

"open the door it's cold out 😕" "let us in.... babeeee 😞"

falling asleep while watching a movie like a literal dogpile

while beforehand y'all were arguing for twenty minutes on what movie to watch because you and abby wanted to watch scream and ellie can't handle horror for the LIFE of her

(so you eventually settle on a romcom) (it was 10 things i hate about you) (you've already watched it five times)

abby and ellie playing video games and ur sorta just sitting there staring at their hands watching them play

"did you win?" "no i died."

when you do end up playing a game with them, it's usually fortnite

abby is so gentle with you and constantly helping you through the game

"good job babe!" "show me those bike skills" "want the sniper? i know you said you like those"

however with ellie....

"BABE BABE BABE KILL HIM SHOOT HIM SHOOT SHOOT SHOOT" "FUCK HE HAS TO BE A FUCKING BOT THERES NO WAY" "FUCK YEAH I GOT HIM TAKE THAT"

ellie putting her hands on urs on the controller when their first teaching you how to play and whenever she gets touchy <3

sitting on their laps while they play...

sleepover with them go NUTS

ellie buys SO MUCH SOUR CANDY

abby fucking HATES sour candy and you and ellie are trying to trick her into having a warhead

"no im not putting that vile shit in my mouth" "abby it's literally so sweet trust me" "no eat it it's just candy" "just try! 😕"

pouting to get your way and she gives in (and immediately spits it out)

pouting to get your way works with them no matter what

abby would be a personal trainer and also work somewhere in analytics

ellie would be a mechanic and livestream for a living (she acts like it's no big deal but she's gained a surprisingly large following)

reader owns a bakery that's also a flower shop and always brings in spare treats for them to have!

"guys i got doughnuts for you!"

you buy them flowers all !! the !! time !! and you assign really specific meanings to them

"so the poppy means... and the tulip with the poppy means..."

they're pretending to listen... (they are listening so intently)

them ganging up to tickle u at least once a day (you act like you despise it but in reality your devouring it)

FORCING THEM TO MAKE TIKTOKS WITH YOU

abby's texting you "Babe wdym I have to take a quiz on what aura I have." "can u just do it?"

omfg forcing abby to get tiktok because she refused to get it for so long only for her to be on it more than you and sending you the most random shit

getting into an argument with one of them is certainly something !

ur refusing to talk to ellie and ur communicating to her through abby (ellie is speaking to you directly and you are sitting cross legged staring at abby) "abby tell ellie im not speaking to her rn" and ur being DEAD serious... they're laughing their asses off

kissing abby in front of ellie to make her jealous when ur fighting

and whenever ellie and abby are fighting you straight up ignore them until they come to their senses and apologise

matching tattoos! you have a sun, abby has a moon and ellie has some stars

uno and they both have extra cards under the table

"are you guys cheating" "OH MY GOD NO OF COURSE NOT-" "HOW COULD YOU EVEN SUGGEST THAT?!" "WHAT DO YOU MEAN?" "WE WOULD NEVER DO THAT TO YOU A GAMES A GAME"

ellie standing up to get water and you yell at her from the 826 cards that slipped

abby and ellie pull pranks on eachother all the time!

and you are constantly getting caught in the middle of it

one time you contribute and both of them are arguing on who did what prank having zero clue it was you

and you're just giggling off to the side

the two would have such bad jealousy issues

like they see u GLANCE at another girl and they're dragging you home

and then they go "we aren't even jealous people! she was practically eye fucking you. that's why we left!"

like girl she had a whole bf

imagine covering them in lipstick kissed and taking a picture...

making them do the lipstick trend

OR the nail polish eye colour trend!

u having a hard day and they’re RUSHING to comfort you

girls were STRESSEDDDD like ellie's holding you while abby's rushing to get the bath filled up

"stupid fucking bathtub isn't filling up!!!!!!! hurry up!!!!!" and now they’re more stressed than you😭

the nicknames.

ellie's pretty basic with it. calling you babe, baby, honey, pretty girl, etc.

but with abby she likes to be unique with it. calling you princess, darling, etc.

and u reversing the nicknames on them...

talking to abby and she's helping u w something and u go "thanks princess!" then kiss her on the cheek like nothing happened

she's like "tf??"

but with ellie she's chasing you around the house and pinning you down till you say she's daddy 😭

how rewarding it is for them when they see u get all blushy and stuff

they would feel so cocky and proud of the themselves

abby sending you playlists and ellie showing you drawings

and the gifts they would get u ! like gift giving isn't their love language but they wanna spoil you

“oo i like that shirt” abby’s already ordered it. in every colour.

like you sneak a peek at a bracelet and now it's ellie's job to keep you distracted while abby runs in and buys it

sleeping w a stuffy and being so tired and giving it a kiss on the cheek and bestfriend!ellie is all like “where’s mine”

she gets jealous with the amount of plushies u sleep with

she's the typa girl to joke "hey mamas where's my kiss" after u get home from work and ur just staring at her like 😐 with flour all over you from a failed recipe

“no? okay sorry babe”

goodcop!abby badcop!ellie when u do something bad!

"babe.... just tell me where u hid my keys and all will be good" "ALL RIGHT LISTEN UP WOMAN...."

then they end up finding the keys under the couch

but u lowk hid them there cause you didn’t want them to leave..

abby had a snapchat hey mamas phase and ellie was there to see it

AND ellie uses it as blackmail in the gc

abby: "Ellie you're so dumb how could you get the directions wrong." "wanna see a magic trick."

abby backtracks so fast in hopes it'll save her from her fate (it doesn't).

"and that's the end of my magic show! thank u and goodnight 🙏 " then ellie disappears because she knows abby will beat her ass

they have pictures of you in a gallery and you don’t know about it

“is this me sleeping?” "gimme my fuckin phone back-" "you ain't seen NOTHING"

you would take so many pics of urself on their phones!

like at dinner and you've managed to sneak one of their phone's under the table and are taking silly selfies

and you take videos of them snatching their phones back

the screen is all black and all you can hear is rustling and the faint sound of ellie whining "babe my storageeee" and abby's just laughing

flipping them off by accident in a photo (both me and izzie are victims to this).

you mean to do 🤘 or 👍 but instead do 🖕

ellie's feigning hurt and abby's laughing so hard

abby uses “😂” and “LOL” but then ellie uses “😭” and “LMAO”

abby is so literal with her texting

She types like this. Always uses proper grammar no matter what.

and ellie... ELLEI TWXTS LIKE THIS

"babky were is tje lrnon" "ALL CAPS NO PUNCTUSLYIK PJNCTISNTILN"

ur the only person who can translate ellie's awful texting so you'll occasionally get texts from joel saying stuff like "Kiddo do you know what she was tryna say here?"

ellie is 100% dyslexic

and a professional yapper which is why she likes streaming so much

abby fights the urge to tell her to shut the fuck up

and sometimes after like a really hard day at work all you wanna do is relax and they just let you

sending them paragraphs about how much you love them just out of the blue

ellie’s like “??? r u gonna kys “

abby leaves you on read and smothers you when she's home

abby chronically leaves people on read

ellie greets you by slapping or pinching ur ass and abby greets you by giving you a kiss on the side of your face ellie also pretends to fuck you from the back whenever you bend down to pick something up

the amount of facetimes when you didn't live with them! and the amount you get when your on some sort of work trip

falling asleep on call and them taking secret screenshots of you and texting eachother in fear of waking you up

facetiming you on abby's macbook

abby uses apple and ellie uses a microsoft laptop

when ur on a work trip and they're harassing you to call

“i’m in a meeting” “answer facetime”

"gimme 5" "5...4...3..2......"

nobody’s home except you and you burn yourself cooking

they are be RUSHINGGG home

"guys it's fine i literally barley did anything" "YOUR GONNA DIE"

“ARE TOU OKAY?!?” "i am literally fine"

omg the day they actually pay attention to work and your at home and don’t have a lot of time for you is the day you die

"i'm in a meeting what's up" "im dynggg.... come back......... zhelllpppppp....."

and then you get all bratty and needy they obviously punish you for it later ... i'll leave that to your imagination.

“come home or i’m gonna fall ill” “YOURE GONNS FALL ILL??"

sitting in abby's lap while she's working from home <3

she's sitting on her chair and ur straddling her with ur face in her shoulder

biting her arm randomly and she's like "ow wtf?!"

biting her for the first time and she’s was all like “?!” this girl was alarmed.... "are you going feral what is up with you"

eventually she just gets used to it at some point

zero reaction to you biting her now

they go to the gym without you and send gym selfies

abby LOVESSS to flex

she'll never admit it but this girl is trying so hard to excentuate her muscles around u

throws you over her shoulder effortlessly

annoying her and going "watcha gonna do abby? kidnap me?" and she, in fact, does.

“let me go!” and she just pats ur ass

and ellie's always wearing shirts that show her arms off

making them kiss

"awh i think we need a ship name now!" "SHUT UP"

forcing them to talk to eachother by ignoring them and then they have to talk to eachother on wether or not ur pissed at them or if ur just not in the mood to talk

them fighting over everything including you

but you're not official with either of them and could go flirt around if u wanted

them showing up at whatever place u have a date at or something and trolling the poor girl ur out with and then angry dragging u home

they get SO possessive

ellie listens to boygenius and you had to beg abby to listen to them and now she loves them

ellie's got 21 savage, the weeknd, drake, tyler the creator, the neighborhood, chase atlantic, etc on her playlists

her and abby have similar music tastes with distinct differences

like abby listens to tyler the creator as well, chase atlantic, HOZIER, frank sinantra, frank ocean.

all of you love phoebe, mac miller, lorde and childish gambino!

and you LOVE kali uchis. ur the lalalala to their okokok.

you discovered her when she released telapatia and have been obsessed ever since

both abby and ellie had a girl in red phase...

sleeping together in abby's bed bc hers is the biggest

ur favourite mornings are ones when you can't even get up and out of bed because abby's spooning you and ellie's arm is hung loosely over ur waist

your situated in the middle with abby on ur right and ellie on ur left

waking them up with breakfast!

abby waking up to smelling some delicious food and hugging you from behind with her eyes closed and neck shoved into ur shoulder "smells s' good baby... wanted to spoil us even more after last night, huh?" in her raspy morning voice

all ur in is an oversized tee and some white bow cotton panties (it's one of abby's post workout shirts)

the only dirt abby has on ellie is the amount of foul photos she has of her sleeping

ellie drools AND snores

latching on to you for dear life

ur shoving the pillow over ur ears in hopes she'll stfu 😭

and she NEVER does 😕

sleeping skin to skin with them :)

"take of your clothes" "why? you wanna...?" "no i just wanna feel u... is that okay?"

abby has soft skin and ellie has a bunch of random bruises and scars

abby and ellie are genuinely head over heels for u in all seriousness

even if they don’t like eachother they cope with it for you!

smooching one of them really hard and like forcing the “MMMMWAH” sound

ellie has a main insta with zero posts and a spam with 827

abby has three accounts, one for gains, her main & her stalker (for ur safety obviously)

meanwhile u just have a main which u post on all the time and a private that nobody knows about for stalking

ellie shit posts. "lol" and it's a photo of a rat smoking a cigarette

ellie dgaf bout what she texts

sent to abby cause you made a joke about her being breedable in bed

nsfw!

ANGRY MAKEUP SEX.

ellie kisses ur tummy before she eats it

and abby puts her forearm on ur lower stomach and applies pressure 😵‍💫

abby calls u good girl

abby comforting you when ellie's going just a little bit too aggressively and manhandling you