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ggidolsmuts · 4 months

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Our Love Language is Sex - ITZY Ryujin

"Woojin sunbae, I think I like you..."

No Ryujin, what are you doing? You told her to tell him how she felt, not tell him how she felt in front of everyone else! You can't see her expression from behind, but the sunbae's lip lifts to one side in disgust.

"What? Ew, no. Sorry Ryujin." His tone was anything but sorry.

"Damn, I'm jealous bro." One of his mates said.

"Yeah? You can have her then, how about it Ryujin?" The way the love of her young life offers her away so easily shatters her heart, and she sniffles and runs. His words as she leaves rings in her ear, stinging her as she leaves.

"Guess not, sorry bro." You hurry to catch up to her, finding her crying in a classroom. Quietly you slide the door open and close it behind you.

"Ryujin... You okay?"

"Obviously, fucking, not!" She turns to face you, her sadness stained with anger. "It's all your fault!"

"My fault?"

"You said to tell him how I felt!"

"Yeah, but not in front of everyone! Find a private spot or something, like here!"

"You should have said that then!" Ryujin shouts back at you, landing a punch on your chest. "How was I supposed to know?"

"I thought you would have some sense! Fuck you're thick sometimes."

"Fine I'm thick, just go and fuck off then!" Your back hits the wall as she pushes you away. Damn it, you were here to comfort her, not get angry at her!

"Ryujin that's not what I meant."

"I don't care! I don't want to see you!"

"Come on Ryujin." You grab her wrist, and she flings her arm to get you off, catching you in the face.

"Oh shit, I'm— I'm telling you to go away!" she shouts. Her blood runs cold looking at your stunned expression. She should have apologized, why didn't she apologize! "I mean I'm—"

"I get it, I'm sorry I came." You turn around and exit the classroom, slamming the door shut.

-----

You barely speak to Ryujin in school after, and you graduate and move on with your life just like she has.

Until today.

You knew your company was engaging ITZY as a spokesperson for their products, and you saw their commercials pop up in your office sometimes, but you never expected to see them in your office.

"All in us, we are ITZY! Thanks for having us!" Your coworkers cheer and clap. The members proceed to introduce themselves.

"Hello, I'm Ryujin, nice to meet everyone!" You blink and confirm what, or rather who you are seeing—not just ITZY's Ryujin, but the Ryujin who you went to school with all those years ago. You had heard that she became a trainee, but you never made the connection, that ITZY's Ryujin and your Ryujin were one and the same. Her appearance on the commercials and posters seemed familiar, but you never gave it much thought.

Ryujin scans the crowd, used to the wall of phones staring right back at her. Oddly enough, someone is watching without their phone up—maybe he doesn't know who they are. He's staring right at her, through her, and the face is suddenly familiar.

No way.

Your gaze catches Ryujin's, and her eyes widen in recogniztion, mouth opening slightly, as if to call out. Hurriedly you nod and bow slightly, and Ryujin gives a small nod in return, a puzzled expression briefly on her face before she quickly goes back to being a professional idol and smiling for the cameras.

After sweeping the room with a smile, Ryujin looks back to where he stood just a moment ago, only to find him gone. That was surely him! She scans the crowd of office workers, but everyone else has a phone up. Where did he go? The rest of the schedule goes as normal—a couple of office workers ask her to sign a few personal items, but not him.

"Manager oppa, let me use the washroom real quick."

"Sure, we'll wait in the lobby."

A few hurried steps—where did he go, he can't have gone far!

"Ryujin-ssi, are you looking for something?"

"Yes I—" She interrupts herself, hearing his name behind her.

"Hey, you just missed out on ITZY, can you believe they were here?! Whoa!" Ryujin surprises both you and and your fanboying co-worker. "Oh my god hello!"

"Ah yes, hello!" She greets him nicely before bringing her gaze to you. "Hey."

"Oh, yeah umm, hey. It's been a while."

"Mmhmm."

"Wait, you know him Ryujin-ssi?"

"Yeah, we were classmates, if you could excuse us."

"Oh, of course! Would you mind signing this—" Ryujin grabs his notebook and signs it quickly, and you get a jovial and envious nudge from your co-worker before you are left alone with her.

"How have you been?" Ryujin asks softly.

"Good," you reply succintly. Never has a single word so poorly summarized your life since that moment years ago. Suddenly you had no one to gossip with, no one to share secrets with, no one to veg out with on slow weekend afternoons.

-----

"If you think about it, clouds are just leaky water balloons." Ryujin mutters as she lays next to you.

"What? That makes no sense." You shoot back.

"Just like you having a crush on that girl, Jisoo? What do you even see in her?"

"Oh, so now we're back on that? She seems nice, and she's cute!"

"Aish, I just don't like her. And since when did you like cute? You hated my aegyo, what if Woojin oppa likes it?"

"Him?" All he wants is to get with you! You couldn't bring yourself to say that. "He likes the sexy style. Guys are all perverts."

"Just like you right? I know you go mad at any girl who shakes her hips hmm? Anyways I'm sure Woojin oppa is different! If I'm sincere he'll feel it!"

"Yeah sure, go try that if you want." Sometimes you're so naive! You didn't add.

"Fine I will, hmph!"

-----

"How about you? Your group's doing well." he asks her. How was it for her, Ryujin thinks to herself... And seeing him for the first time in years, she remembers it sucked.

-----

"Ryujin, are you okay? Should I let the teacher know you can't do the trainee evaluation tomorrow?"

"Yes Yeji-unnie, it's just a cold, I can do the evaluation tomorrow, I have to," she manages to suppress a sniffle from beneath the covers. She pulls out the phone she hid inside her pillowcase, careful to not let any light leak out into the room. Her thumbs work on muscle memory—she needs to talk to someone. It stops at a familiar name, but it belongs to someone she could no longer talk to. Ryujin's lips quiver—it has been weeks since then, and he hasn't even reached out once! Yet she couldn't bring herself to be the one to reach out. She taps the phone against her forehead and hides a sob with a sniffle.

"Do you want some medicine?"

"No, I'm okay, thank you unnie, good night!"

"If you say so, good night."

Ryujin turns the phone off and slides it back under her pillow.

Just one message from you...

-----

"Yeah, it's all thanks to our fans."

"Nice, congratulations."

"Hmm? What for?"

"I dunno, I see ITZY winning a lot of stuff, I guess? I just never realized it was you, you look pre— I mean, your hair is very different now."

What was that? "O-Oh, yes, idol hairstyles, you know how it is." No of course he doesn't! Ryujin berates herself.

"Right..." There is an awkward silence, broken only by the sound of a manager or bodyguard calling out for her. "You should go, good to see you though."

"Yeah, yeah." Ryujin takes a quick peek around the corner and winces. "Hey, give me your phone!" You hand her your device, and she does a few quick taps.

"Ryujin-ssi?" A burly voice calls out.

"Yes I'm coming! Sorry I couldn't find the washroom!" She hurriedly calls out before returning you your phone. "Thanks, bye!" She disappears from sight around the corner, sounding all apologetic to the voice as they grow more distant.

You look down at your phone, it is a text to an unknown number, but clearly addressed to you.

*That's my number, I'll message you*

The old you would not have recognized the current you, going to your phone immediately when you hear it buzz, like you were a technology-addicted teenager once more. It had been months since you met Ryujin again, and things have been mending silently and slowly. She would text you, you would text back. You would see her group win one award or another, you would text her, and she would text back, albeit heavily delayed. Without seeing her in person, it is easy to forget what had happened between the two of you, and you are just glad to be messaging your old friend again. That is, until you see the current message buzzing on your phone.

*Hey, are you free for a coffee?*

You are in a cafe a few days later, one of the few still open late at night. You sit down across someone trying to be anonymous, donning a mask, cap, and a hoodie over all that. But you know she's Ryujin.

"Hey, at least take the mask off, do you know how much you stand out, someone who's wearing a mask, sitting in a cafe?"

"I was just waiting for you."

"Sure. What do you want, I'll go order."

"Just the usual—" Ryujin freezes. It has been so long, and yet reflexively she tosses out her order, like they are just doing a study session at a cafe near school instead, all those years ago.

"Sure." She stares at him walking away, and a thought strikes her—is he still the same?

The answer arrives along with her coffee as you sit down across from her, one arm across your chest, the other occupied with drinking coffee, one leg perched and crossed—defensive, guarded, cold.

"What did you want to talk about?"

"I-I just wanted to catch up. It's been so long since we talked."

"And whose fault is that?" A chill goes down her spine, and it wasn't from the ice in her drink—it would not be a jovial reunion. Ryujin tries to keep it light.

"Are you still on about that? Come on, that was so long ago."

"Oh, so at least you haven't forgotten about it, I guess that's good." Each word is a heavy blow on her heart. "So why did you ask me here?"

"I was just wondering how you've been—"

"Now that you've remembered I exist? But never thought to reach out before that hmm? I should send my thanks to JYP for signing that deal."

"What? You could have reached out too!" Ryujin already felt guilty, and now she felt stung too by your barbs.

"Yes, but I didn't, because you asked me not to! You told me to go away." you hiss back. "And now that you want to talk to me again, you just reach out to me like nothing has happened?"

"What was I supposed to do? I was busy with being a trainee! I'm sorry okay? I should have said that then."

"Well you can stay busy being an idol then!" You jerk your head in self-annoyance—you were a little too loud, and people turn to look, making Ryujin tilt her head lower. "Come on, let's go." She nods and follows you out the door.

"I'm really sorry, I should have said that right after I hit you. I was just happy to see you again, I didn't think about how you felt."

"I'm... not unhappy to see you again, but I don't know if I can handle meeting you like nothing has happened."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Nothing, just give me time, it's one thing to text someone on the phone, it's another to see them again."

"How much time do you need?"

"Hopefully less than a few years—" you catch your own snide remark as you hear Ryujin sniffle, and it wasn't that cold out. "Sorry, that was low, I don't know."

"At least you said it right away," Ryujin bitterly jokes to herself. You shrug and pat her on her shoulder in goodbye.

"Good luck on your comeback."

After a long while Ryujin takes a sip of her bitter coffee, except now it is salty. How did it all go so wrong, how was she so completely off?

Ryujin drowns herself in her work, proving his words right as she stays busy being an idol. Every so often her members catch a small smile before the sides of her lips flatten out—she still exchanged messages with him, but they were more iced Americano than hot chocolate. Many times she debated just sending a message, asking him if they could meet, but fearful of rejection, she could never bring herself to.

"What's up?" Yeji asks, sitting down next to her. "You keep smiling and then frowning at your phone."

"You know that guy I met at that event? The one I said I knew from school?"

"Yeah, at that company thing? You said you were close friends."

"We were, but I did something back then, and now we're not close anymore." She spills her history with him to Yeji.

"That's it? I mean, if he's still holding a grudge then fuck him."

"Yeah but, he's not wrong. We were close, I hit him, and I never even said sorry until now."

"You did say sorry this time right?"

"Yes, he said he needed time."

"Just give him time then, he has his life, if he wants you back in his life, then he'll let you know. Or if you want him back in yours, just reach out and ask, you don't know if you don't ask. But it's not like he has been a part of yours for years now right?"

"I guess."

"Exactly, at least you're texting with him now, he hasn't ghosted you, that should count for something!"

"No you're right, you're right, thanks unnie." Ryujin steels herself as Yeji leaves her room. She can do this, it's just one text, she's not asking him out on a date, she just wants to catch up! Maybe she can ask him out for drinks, maybe with other people around so that it won't get awkward, she can do that! But... maybe next week! First she has to look up when the next company hweshik is, yes, the message can wait.

"Hey, say hi, this is my old friend, I've known him since forever!" Ryujin introduces you to her group, pushing you down between two of her members before sitting down opposite you. Introductions go around, and you recognize the two members next to you as Yeji and Chaeryeong. Food and drinks arrive, although it seems like Ryujin is the only one drinking, and the atmosphere remains awkward—when Ryujin asked to catch up over drinks you assumed it would be a quiet thing, and certainly not in a group setting.

"Yah, don't try to be an idol around him and just take little sips, he's seen me do stupid stuff before, just drink!" Yeji and Chaeryeong start off slow, but soon they begin to take swigs, and you begin to do the same, and as the alcohol begins to flow, so does the conversation.

"So what was Ryujin like in school? Did she study at all, I bet she didn't!" Chaeryeong jokes.

"No no, she did study, she studied my homework." You joke, to raucous laughter from the ITZY members and staff.

"No I didn't, I even did better than you on exams!" But of course, no one listens to her. She is mollified after some placating from her members and more food on her plate, and the conversation flows on until the inevitable question.

"So, who's your favorite member in ITZY?" Chaeryeong asks, giggles bubbling out of her. It sparks a titter around you.

"Yah that's so boring!" "You're just saying that because you won't win!" "You're just saying that because he knows you!" "Says the one who spent 15 minutes choosing an outfit!" "Says the one who spent 30 minutes on make up today!" Ryujin blushes at the last comment—did she really spend 30 minutes on makeup today?

You save her the embarrassment by calming them down.

"I'll be honest, it's very nice to meet all of you, but I don't really know enough about any of you? So I guess all of you are my favorites?"

"Boo, cop out, drink! What if you had to choose? Like, I'll pay for your dinner today if you choose."

"Yeji unnie, don't make him pay for his dinner today! I'll cover you." Ryujin hastily butts in.

"Sure sure, I'll buy a second round of drinks if you choose." Ryujin makes to say something, but ultimately she has no retort and waits with the rest of them.

"I guess... since I know her the best, I'll go with Ryujin?" She pumps her fist, and rewards you with a healthy serving of grilled meat.

"Psh, wow, you gave the default answer. What if Ryujin isn't a choice, or who would be number two?"

"I guess number two would be—" your answer is drowned out by a roar as you see JYP the man himself, get on top of a table and start dancing, complete with plastic table sheet around his waist. The rest of the dinner and drinks flyby, and soon it is time to leave.

"It's nice to meet you all—" you start, but Ryujin cuts you off and throws an arm over your shoulder.

"No no, we're going to go for a round two, we need to catch up!"

"You can't Ryujin! We should go back home."

"No! I want a round two!" She yells, more than a little tipsy.

"You can't be seen in public like this!"

"I'll just drink at his house then!" She jerks a thumb in your direction. Their manager protests against it, and Ryujin yells back, but ultimately Yeji steps in.

"It's fine manager oppa, just let them catch up." After gently pushing the manager away Yeji turns to you. "Just go straight home with her okay? Take a taxi, make sure you two don't drink in public, and remind her to take a taxi back."

"Got it, I'll make sure she stays out of trouble." With that you half-walk and half-lurch with Ryujin into the back of a cab and back to your place. You open the door and Ryujin makes herself at home.

"Wow, living by yourself and everything, you've made it!"

"At least take your shoes off Ryujin!" They thud on your floor.

"Surely you have beer right?"

"Yeah, but all you get is one can."

"Cheapskate!"

"Fine, two cans." You grab four cans and sit down opposite her, and as you do so the alcohol suddenly hits you—you must have had more than you realized.

"Yah, so really, who would you choose from our members? Who's your favorite?" Ryujin asks him.

"What? How are you still on that?"

"Would you really choose me?" She persists, pestering and provoking you for an answer. She scoots herself closer. "Am I your favorite, am I the prettiest?"

"Well you did spend 30 minutes on makeup, so I guess?"

"Really? Awwww!" Ryujin clings on to him tightly.

"God of course you're a clingy drunk!" You try to break out of the embrace, but unfortunately you pause when you see Ryujin close up—she really is pretty tonight. Silently the two of you stare at one another, dual gazes dueling.

"Hey, you ever think... that we should have gotten together?" Ryujin whispers.

"What?"

"We had to deal with so many rumors back then, remember? Everyone thought we were dating."

"Idiots, all of them."

"You never considered it? I have..." She's an inch from you, maybe not even that. "I would have—" Ryujin crumples in your arms and passes out.

-----

"Argh, the girls are all saying I'm going out with you!"

"So?"

"Well we're not!"

"Exactly, so who cares?" You shrug and return to your video game.

"Me!"

"Why? Do you want us to go out so that it's true?" You are blind to Ryujin's blush, just as you get flashbanged in game.

"No that's not the point! It's about my image!"

"Sure sure, I don't have an image so I don't care. Let me know if you want us to go out."

"How can you joke about something like that!" She leaves in a huff, slamming the door behind her.

"Tch, I didn't say no did I?" You mutter under your breath.

-----

Ryujin blinks and rubs the sleep from her eyes. She tries to get up, only to be suddenly aware of a firm arm around her.

"Mmm, just a little longer." The warm heat of his chest flows straight into her back. The hot breath on her neck makes her all warm and... tingly.

"Hey..." She whispers. "I need to go."

"No, stay—" you finally process the voice and your eyes snap open, to the back of someone's head, someone you knew far too well. "Ryujin? Dah!" You hurriedly let her go as she pushes herself away. "What happened last night?"

"I don't remember." She sits up and runs a hand through her hair. "Do you?"

"No, we sat down with beers, and then nothing after that."

"Ugh... Did we—" she checks herself, breathing a sigh of relief as she finds herself fully clothed.

"Of course not!"

"Yeah, like you're the one who has the most to lose here!" Ryujin fires back.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"The members will know I stayed the night, what do you think they'll think?"

"Just tell them the truth, we did nothing and you spooned me!"

"I? Spooned you? No no, the big spoon is the one doing the spooning, you spooned me."

"No, that's called a normal sleeping position, I wouldn't be spooning you if you didn't back yourself into me, little spoon."

"I'm not little— Whatever, I don't have time to argue, I have to go."

"Fine. Why did you even want to meet up?"

"What?" Ryujin asks, distracted and putting on her sneakers.

"You wanted to catch up, I came, except it was your hweshik? Like why?"

"I-I thought it would be a more casual setting, that's all."

"I mean, you're not wrong, but we ended up too drunk to talk after."

"Okay I'm sorry, let's meet up some other time, just us okay?"

"I'll hold you to do that." Ryujin waves goodbye, leaving the two of you annoyed and... frustrated, in more ways than one.

It is weeks later when Ryujin reaches out, and you begrudgingly agree to meet up yet again. You are more than slightly annoyed when you see someone sitting next to her.

"Ye... Ji, right?"

"Yes, you remembered!" Ryujin exclaims delightedly. "That saves me on introductions, I'll be right back!" With that she's already off to order coffee for everyone. You greet Yeji with an awkward smile.

"How are you?"

"I'm good, you? It's good to meet you again, I was afraid Ryujin killed you after she didn't come back that night," Yeji jokes.

"We didn't do anything." You say automatically. "But that's a huge jump to make."

"Well, she came back with a guilty smile, like she enjoyed whatever she did that night. Her hair and makeup was fine, so clearly you didn't make a move on her—"

"I wouldn't make a move—"

"Which is so crazy to me, that her offing you isn't as large a jump to make."

"Ryujin's not—" Yeji's raised eyebrow stops you in your tracks. "I don't think of her that way."

"Really? She'll make you then, when she finally figures out she wants to."

You were about to ask what she meant, when Ryujin returns with the drinks. She puts your usual coffee order in front of you and sits down next to Yeji.

"So unnie, what do you think? Do you like him?"

"What?" You and Yeji nearly spit your drinks out.

"What are you talking about, isn't he your style?" Ryujin turns red and nearly spits her own drink out.

"No! He's my friend! I-I thought you were looking for someone unnie!"

"Keep your voice down!"

"Ryujin what are you doing? I never asked you about Yeji." You nod your head slightly towards Yeji. "Sorry, didn't mean it like that, I just don't know you well at all." She dismisses you with a kind smile, or so you thought, but the smile was for other reasons.

"None taken." God I am looking at two idiots.

"You have to start somewhere don't you?" Suddenly thirsty, Ryujin's drink is almost gone already. "You're not... in a relationship are you?"

"No I'm not, but you can't spring something like this on people."

"He's right you know. You don't just randomly bring people together without them knowing and expecting something to happen."

"Okay so I missed a step, I thought it would be a good idea."

"I'm heading out," you say with finality, finishing the rest of your drink with a shudder—ugh, brain freeze. "Ryujin, if you want to catch up, I'm more than happy to, but I don't know why you're pussyfooting around me about just talking one-on-one. I'm more than happy to get to know Yeji if you would just tell me, or tell her, for that matter, beforehand."

"Sit." Just as firmly as he left them, Yeji sits Ryujin down once they return to the dorms. "So, why did you make up that stuff about me? You're going to use your unnie without telling her?"

"Sorry! I just felt that it would be too awkward with just the two of us."

"I thought you two are old friends."

"We are, but it's different now, we grew up, things change."

"You like him, he is your style."

"What? No that's not what's happening here."

"Please Ryujin, it's been weeks, months even, since you first saw him again, any other guy that didn't show interest you would have moved on, and yet here you are, you spent a night with him—"

"We didn't—"

"Let me finish," Yeji warns in her I'm-the-leader tone. "You spent a night and didn't do anything with him, and yet you are using your dear unnie as an excuse to see him again. It's one thing if the sex is good and you want an excuse to see him again, it's another if you two haven't slept together yet."

"We did sleep together! He spooned me!" Ryujin says defensively.

"You two really are cute little idiots. I don't know what is going on between the two of you, but here, I will book a nice hotel suite with two nice king-sized beds. You two can go there and have a nice conversation, make things not awkward, and if you're really just friends with him, you can each spend the night on a nice big comfy bed. If not, feel free to not sleep in one bed together, naked!"

"Yeji unnie!"

"You're being foolish, and so is he."

"What?"

"He cares enough to text you first sometimes, so he's not disinterested. All I'm saying is, you put not a boy and a girl, but a man and a woman, in a hotel room, and things may just turn out fine." Yeji pats Ryujin on the head. "Just let me prepare everything, and I'll tell you when okay?"

"Yes unnie."

You should have realized that something was up when Ryujin invited you to a hotel. You gave her the benefit of the doubt when you see Yeji meeting you in front of the hotel ("She insisted I show you to the room, that's all, I'm not staying."). You probably shouldn't have when you realize you were going up to a suite.

"What's going on?" you ask Yeji right outside the door. "Ryujin can afford this?"

"She can, but I paid for this. As the leader I feel partially responsible about what she did to you last time, so I set up the two of you to have a night in, just like old times. Movies, snacks, games, you name it!"

"I wasn't planning on staying a night here, I thought it would be at a restaurant or something."

"It's okay, I just thought a room would be quieter than a restaurant, you don't have to stay the night if you don't want to."

"I see, thanks, I guess. Where's Ryujin?"

"She's in there already, go ahead." Yeji gives you a pat on your back as she leaves, and you wait for the ding of the elevator before knocking.

"Hey."

"Hey, thanks for coming."

"Sure. Whoa, Yeji really did prepare everything." That she did, a huge spread of snacks, food, and a counter of various coffees, soft drinks, and alcohol—looks like you wouldn't need to order room service. "So, what should we do first?"

"I don't know, game? What did we do back then?" Ryujin asks, fumbling with her bag of chips.

"Watch a movie? Or TV?" That sounded good, so you scooped up some snacks and joined Ryujin on the sofa in the "living room" of the suite. You see two Ryujins in the room.

"Whoa, what's that?" You ask, nodding to the TV.

"Oh, it's nothing, was just monitoring a recent performance."

"Monitoring?"

"Like, watching yourself, checking for mistakes, stuff like that."

"That sounds... a little narcisstic no? Watching your own performances?"

"It's just something we do." Ryujin tries to close the video, but you stop her.

"Can we watch? I've never seen you perform before actually." She hesitates for a moment but presses play. Ryujin sits down next to you, slightly tense—how would you react? To her bemused delight, the questions incoming are very naive.

"You are showing a lot of skin." "Uhh yeah, that's kinda in the job description."

"And... isn't it a little too tight?" "Again, also in the job description."

"When was this performance again?" "Like a week ago?" "How come your hair looks so different now?" "I go to the salon, you do know that there's more to hairstyles than cutting right?" She reaches for his hair before he reacts.

"You haven't done anything to your hair have you, even the hairstyle is the same. Touch my hair." Her heart skips a beat when his fingers brush her hair.

"Whoa, why does it feel like that?"

"There's a lot you can do to it, most are not great for the hair, but hey, we need to show different styles, and hair is the easiest way to do it." He runs his digits through her hair, and Ryujin shudders at the sensation—it was weirdly hot.

"Sorry, does it hurt?"

"N-No, but you should stop."

"Right, sorry."

"No problem, any more questions, or can we watch something that's not me?"

"Sure sure, just... wow that's a very different line work."

"Yeah. What do you want to watch?"

"Wait, sorry one last question." You lean in and squint at the video, and then glance at Ryujin. "How long does it take for you to look like that on stage? Just the makeup."

"About umm, 40 minutes, an hour. maybe more?"

"Really? And how much time did you spend today?"

"Like 20 minutes?"

"And last time was 30 minutes?"

"You don't have to remind me about that."

"Yes yes, but you probably don't need to spend that much time on makeup. You should tell your stylists that." It takes a moment for Ryujin to process the compliment, and she blushes a deep red, overpowering what makeup she had on.

"T-Thanks, I'll let them know."

"I um, yeah, no problem, just saying." You stutter a little, realizing how weird that sounded coming from you. "Should we watch a movie, or drama?"

"Umm yeah, how about a movie?" Ryujin starts one, but neither of you really notice what's on screen. Instead, the two of you talk and talk and talk—your interest in her work prompts her own curiosity, and she asks about your job, about your life. You swap stories, and although you feel like Ryujin's getting the short end of the stick—your stories pale in comparison to the entertainment industry's wild rumors, she is equally enthused all the same—more importantly you're finally catching up with her. Inevitably the times you're talking about go backwards in time.

"Remeber when—"

"Yeah, or when he—"

"Who was our maths teacher again, Miss—"

"Did you know that he had a crush on you?" "No way! Really? That explains a lot." "What happened?" "He always wanted to be in my group, even though I don't do anything for projects. He was very nice, but he didn't ask me out in the end."

"Wait, he did all that? When was this? How come I don't remember this? What if he did ask you?" Ryujin taps her chin thoughtfully at his question.

"Would I have said yes? I dunno, we got along but we never clicked."

"Huh, but seriously when was this, I don't remember this at all." She watches him frowning, looking up at the ceiling and trying to remember, and she realizes why he couldn't, and wouldn't, be able to remember.

"Oh, it's because I never told you, because we, you know."

"Oh. Right." And there it is, finally the topic broached.

"I'm really sorry that I hit you, I should have said sorry back then, and it cost us both a lot. I still regret it even now."

"I don't blame you Ryujin, I should have reached out again, but I was childish. I did exactly what you told me to, even though that isn't what either of us actually wanted." He puts a hand on her shoulder, an olive branch. "We should move on from that, okay? No more doing stupid stuff like inviting me to a blind date without either party knowing."

"Okay, sorry, sorry. Now never bring that up again, please."

"Yes, let's just watch the movie. Make sure you turn off your phone so that you won't arrange another one for me." Ryujin throws a cushion at you, but you grab it and hand it back to her, and she hugs it against her chest as the two of you settle into the couch. You two end up closer and closer together, until you're shoulder-to-shoulder with her, her head lightly resting on yours, just like the old days.

But the movie the two of you are watching are definitely not age-appropriate for the old days, as the male and female leads struggle against one another, locked in a fevered and contentious argumentative embrace, until they give into each other. He pins her against the wall, she pulls her top off and wraps her arms around his neck.

"Ahh, mmm!" He presses himself into her, his hands tight around her waist. Her hips wriggle, bucking against him as he slips his hand under her shorts. A short gasp. She pulls off his shirt, revealing his chiseled chest and muscular arms—

Oh yes! The screen reflects off Ryujin's irises, but she's playing her own scene in her head. Of her with someone, with said someone right next to her. She squirms a little, and suddenly notices two things—that she's tense, holding her breath; and that he's tense, and holding his breath; scratch that, make that three things she notices—she's wet, the inside of her thighs sticky with need. She needs to get out before they—

"This movie's boring, we should watch something else," he rasps.

"Y-Yeah, let's watch something else. Hah even when we were young you never liked the R-rated scenes." she jokes, hoping to lighten the palpable tension.

"Then why did you agree with me? The old you would have made sure we kept watching. Let's keep watching then." You jostle her, making sure to keep a cushion over your lap.

"No, let's not, it's weird watching it with a guy."

"Oh, so now I'm a guy? Do you see me as a man? Are you interested in me, hm hm hm?" you play it off as a joke, but you are taken aback at Ryujin's lack of outraged denial.

"Why, are you interested in me?" Ryujin panics, and with the situation getting out of hand, she tries to solve it the only way she knows how—by throwing it back harder. "Now that I'm in a girl group, you're interested in me now aren't you? Did you enjoy my fancams just now?"

"N-No, of course not! And don't sit like a lady now, what happened to manspreading all over the couch like you used to? Are you hiding something?" Ryujin spreads her legs slightly, making herself all the more aware of her own arousal, and praying it doesn't show on her tight pants. Hurriedly she tries to escalate even further, to draw attention away from herself—she grabs his cushion and pulls it away, revealing his bulge. Daringly she grabs him, and his slight hiss just makes her wetter—because of his reaction, and because he is far more prominent than his jeans would suggest.

"What's this? I thought you weren't interested in me, hmm?" He slaps her hand away almost childishly.

"Of course not, that was just the movie being hot, not you! What about you!" He hovers a hand on her flat stomach, threatening to move down. "I wonder how wet you are down there, just from the movie right?"

"Of course! And if you're not interested in me, prove it!" Ryujin tries to escalate once more to "win" the argument. "Hit me!"

"What? You're crazy."

"No, I still feel bad about what I did all those years ago. I know you said you're over it, but I'm not, not until you hit me, so go ahead, hit me!" She grabs his arm, pulling it to her face, trying to make the hand connect.

"Ryujin I'm not going to hit you!"

"Why not, do you like me? I thought you weren't interested."

"No, you're just being stupid, I am not going to hit you. Ryujin!"

"Even if I feel bad? Even if I want you to hit me?"

"Especially if you want it, I won't hit you!" He is hypocritical though, and as Ryujin struggles harder he hits her.

In the face.

On her cheek.

Gently.

It is a warm, soft caress of her cheek, and he's pressed against her lips, kissing her hard. Ryujin's hand relaxes as her heart pounds against her chest. She puts both hands around his neck, pulling him in—god she wants this right now! The kiss spikes in intensity, but she can feel him draw back, slightly unsure. Her lips part, and she licks his slightly, and reassured he tongue-tangoes with her, soft moans coming from both of them. The kiss that started off by catching both of them by surprise quickly burns into something more, into apology, into making up for years of lost time, into pure lust.

Your free hand goes down from her neck to her shoulders, carelessly brushing the bra strap off. You wrap an arm around her back, hugging and holding her close—for the first time you realize that Ryujin's slim, a side-effect of her job. It made you want to protect her, to make sure no one would ever say no to her and hurt her and—

And to devour her. Your hand goes to her hip, and you freeze when she freezes, the fingertips touching her warm skin underneath her top retreating slightly. You feel her hand grab your wrist, did you go too far? No, she wants you to go further, putting your hand on her midriff and pushing you down, beneath her pants, and then one layer more.

"Fuck..." Ryujin can't help but whine as his fingers brush over her lips, instantly coating them with stickiness. Her body moves on its own, she's grabbing on to his arm, keeping him there, and she's bucking her hips, urging him to just curl his fingers and—

"Mmmm!" You could cum in your jeans right now just hearing Ryujin groan as you push two fingers into her. Your breath is heavy and hot on her lips while you try to hold the kiss, even as Ryujin squirms against you—she's tight and sticky and wet. "It feels so good, make me cum!" You hear her plead—you have never seen her quite like this, but you can't even begin to process that thought as her lips find your neck and suck harshly. You pay her back in kind, just as she desires, with firm pushes of your fingers into her, over and over. She cries out into your neck when your tips graze her just right, and soon her walls convulse and contract, making it even easier for you to rub her weak spot.

"Cum for me Ryujin." She nods into his neck, whining in pleasure as she gets even closer to her peak. He's growling in her ear, making her pussy squelch and leak. She squirts a little against his palm as he tugs on her earlobe, and he's hitting her in the sense that his cheek bumps against hers as she jerks erratically in ecstasy.

"Cum for me if you love me." WHAT? I don't— Her mind blanks out as he rubs g-spot roughly, and she muffles her scream against his neck, the pleasure paralyzing her, interrupting her own disgreement. She remembers being tense against him, as if reaching up to cling to him. Yet when she comes to she's lying on the sofa, his weight pressed on her comfortably.

"Asshole," she whispers a weak retort. "I don't love— ah!" He takes her breath away again, kissing her passionately. "Whatever you say dear," is the look he gives her after the kiss, and it infuriates Ryujin, makes her want to get back at him. Get back at him in a way that she really wants to right now.

"Get off me," Ryujin pouts and mutters, and you acquiesce, slowly pulling your fingers out from her—her stickiness and tightness isn't a feel you would soon forget. Ryujin unbuttons your jeans, pulling it and your boxers to your knees. She presses herself into you, and with a muted moan you respond to her grasping your cock. Her hand runs up and down your length, all the way from base to tip.

"Do I feel good?" she whispers into your ear. Her free hand runs up and down your body, further stimulating you. "You want me to go faster?" The sound that leaves you is almost a whine. "You'll cum for me right? Cum for me if you love me too? Hmm?" Ryujin teases and baits you.

"No I won't," you mutter through heavy breaths, trying and failing to calm yourself down.

"You won't, even if I do this?" She runs a finger over your head, rubbing the underside of it. Where the fuck did she learn to do that! "No? Maybe I should stop?" She runs her palm over your head before pulling away, going back to stroking your shaft. Ryujin's a master baiter.

"No, don't stop!"

Ryujin's glad he says no, as she's not sure she can even stop herself. It's one thing to grab him over clothing, it's a completely different matter to see and touch it in the flesh, feeling his thickness, his length—she's suddenly thinking about it way too much. He grabs her thigh suddenly, squeezing it as he closes in on his own orgasm. His cock throbs in her hand—she can't wait to feel it burst, and then to feel it inside her. But first, she has to win.

You groan as Ryujin slinks down your body, positioning herself between your legs. No, surely she wouldn't— Keeping her eyes trained on you the whole time and making sure you are watching her, Ryujin opens her mouth and pushes her lips past your tip, and then past your head, and then most of your shaft.

Cum for me if you love me! Of course, Ryujin's words aren't quite that clear, what with having your cock in her mouth, but her garbled sounds are abundantly clear in meaning. You don't have it in you to resist, and so you fall for Ryujin hard.

"Fuck Ryujin..." The low moan of her name, the sudden grab on her head, the jump of his cock in her mouth, and finally his thick salty load hitting the back of her throat and sliding down her gullet, it all serves to turn Ryujin on even more. As he shudders through his orgasm, the hand on her head runs through her hair, squeezes her scalp gently—Ryujin thoughts dull, focusing on all the sensations he's giving her. It's only when he softens, and her mouth no longer fully filled does she realize that he's done, and that she's drooling a little over his shaft. She looks up, only to find him leaning back, drained and wasted, but she wants more, and she swallows the last of his seed before getting back to work.

"Ryujin!" You wince in oversensitivity as Ryujin starts to stroke you again, adding licks of her tongue on your spent shaft. You firm up a little in her hands, and you get a little harder when she stops to remove her top and pants, revealing a set of simple black underwear. You get a lot harder, recovering to full strength with what she says next.

"I-I need more, I want us to do more." She walks away, her black panties sticking tightly to the apex of her thighs. The slight jiggles of her butt hypnotizes you, and you almost trip over your own pants as you try to follow her to the bedroom.

Ryujin laughs as she hears him stumble on the way over. There is a lot less laughing as he walks through the door, naked and stiffly pointing in her direction, before kissing her and pressing her into the soft bed. A brief fumble, and her bra falls away. In minor embarrassment she covers herself, but he pulls her hands away to plant kisses all around her chest and neck.

"No marks," she whispers, and he responds with a gruff note, that he heard her, but he's not happy about it. She rewards him with an unreserved moan as he pinches and rubs her stiff nubs, swirling his tongue around one, and then the other. There is a sheen of moisture over her flat tummy as he drifts down her body—why did she feel so warm? Ryujin burns a little hotter as he squeezes her thighs again, this time to spread them. His nose nudges against her mons, and her scent gets even thicker at the contact, and as he pulls her underwear to the side. "Don't— nngh!" his tongue catches her by surprise, and soon his warm breath is all over her core, licking and flicking and pressing, making her melt into a mess. And yet she needed more, her hips bucking involuntarily.

"No more, no need..." She pushes you away with a foot, kicking away her panties and removing the last piece of clothing she had on. You join her on the bed, and her legs quickly hook you close, lightly trapping you, the two of you are so close together now.

"Ryujin!" You gasp a final question to her as your shaft touches her entrance. There were many lines crossed today, all of which the two of you could probably ignore or be in denial about in the future, but the line you're on now is one that both of you know would be the Rubicon of your relationship, that things will undeniably change afterwards. But you look at Ryujin, and she is more than willing to leap over that line, and to challenge you to take the leap yourself. She grabs your cock, lining you up with her, adjusting herself until your tip catches her—just the tip, just a toe over the line. She wants you to do the rest.

It's happening, shit, he's so— The pressure in Ryujin's abdomen grows exponentially as the distance closes between their hips. Every time she's sure she can't take anymore of him, he gets deeper, his brows twitching with each inch he pushes into her.

"So tight..." Ryujin clenches even harder around him when she hears his muttered moan. She feels so full, so utterly stuffed, she has to arch her back, as if to try to stretch herself more, to make more room for him. He starts moving soon after, and the pleasure begins to slowly build up. But not fast enough!

"Faster!" you hear her moan.

"I don't want to hurt you," you mumble. She's just too tight to push through roughly, but she disproves that by bucking her hips up into you, and a jolt of pleasure goes up your spine. Her hands wrap around your neck once more, and her eyes are bright and eager. And also mischievous.

"Fuck me if you love me." She gives you no choice, and you willingly up the pace, and her tightness makes you thrust harder. Soon you are fucking her hard and fast with body-rattling strokes. Ryujin's moans get louder and wilder, her voice cracking when you hit deep in her. Her walls tremble around you, and your cock throbs in response to her quick contractions—both of you are close. Bewilderingly she stops you briefly, just as both of you are about to fully ascend in bliss.

"Do me from behind, I don't want you to see me."

"What?"

"I don't want you to watch me cum," Ryujin struggles and tries to push herself off the bed, but he grabs her arms, pinning them against the bed.

"But I want to." She weakly tries to fight back, but his forehead presses against hers, and he's all that she can see, all that she can feel as his cock plunges into her even harder and faster. His sweat drips on to her face, his hips fighting her thrashing lower body, all to fuck her even better—Ryujin knows that he's going to watch her lose control, and somehow that spikes her pleasure even more, that she's going to bare everything to him. I'm sure I'll look so ugly but—

"Fuck, oh fuck, oh my god, oh my— GOD!" Ryujin has never looked hotter as she falls apart right in front of you. Her face goes slack, and she throws her head back as she silently combusts around you, her entire body writhing in pleasure. Her pussy seems to grip and tug at you, as if trying to suck you in deeper, to suck your—fuck it's too dangerous! You manage to spread her thighs further and pull out in time, joining Ryujin in climax, splattering her quivering lithe body with thick splotches of cum.

You roll to the side, laying down next to her and breathing heavily. Ryujin's lips are still lightly parted, soft moans joining your pants as the two of you work through the last bits of pleasure going through your heads. It is almost cute how she blinks rapidly after opening her eyes, not seeing you right on top of her. She turns the wrong way first, and blushes like mad as she turns the right way to face you. She mumbles something, but your head is still buzzing and ringing to hear her.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, umm, tissues please." With what felt like a huge effort, you manage to push yourself off the bed to grab some towels instead. The aftermath is surprisingly awkward, as Ryujin asks to use the shower first, and you avert your eyes as she comes out of the bathroom. She quickly puts on a bathrobe, and by the time you get up, she's already out of the bedroom, saying something about getting some water. You take a long shower, trying to figure out what to say when you're face-to-face with Ryujin again—Be with me? This never happened? I like you? I love you? I want you? Let's just be fuckbuddies? You come out just as uncertain as before, except much cleaner, and you make sure you are properly covered before exiting the bathroom.

"Hey," Ryujin calls out, tapping away at her phone.

"Hey."

"There's water on the table."

"Thanks." You gratefully down the glass of water before looking at the state of your bed—ruffled, wrinkled, fluid-stained.

"You should sleep with me." You catch the briefest of smiles before Ryujin turns away from you, still playing on her phone.

"What?"

"Your bed's dirty, we should just share one."

"Are you okay with that?"

"I asked you didn't I?"

"Right, thanks." Cautiously you slip into bed next to her, and making sure you kept a healthy distance from her, you faced away from Ryujin and tried your best to sleep.

"Good night Ryujin."

"Good night."

Ryujin wakes up the next morning, only to find him spooning her yet again. She gently tries to lift his arm again, and this time he hugs her even tighter. After last night, rather than be surprised and push herself out of his arms, Ryujin has some morning wetness as she feels something she didn't last time. She knows they'll have to talk about what happened after he wakes up, but she'd rather delay that conversation for as long as possible.

You wake up to a warm sensation between your legs, and it isn't unfamiliar. You look under the covers, only to see Ryujin bobbing her head, bringing your morning wood to full hardness.

"Ryujin? We should—"

"Later." She crawls up your body. "You were spooning me again, I couldn't ignore it."

"No way, you spooned me."

"No, we were facing away from each other."

"Fine, we were, mmm! Spooning each other." Ryujin is shockingly wet, and you quickly groan and compromise with her as she rubs herself over your shaft.

"Deal." She seals it with a vacuum seal over your cock, sinking herself to the hilt in one motion. She flutters around you, and Ryujin buries her head in your neck and let's out a low moan.

"Did you just—?"

"No, just umm, feels good." She throws off the covers, and soon with two hands on your chest Ryujin's riding you, her fit body on full display. Her petite breasts jiggle slightly as she bounces and grinds on you slowly and randomly, indulging herself in a morning fuck. This time she doesn't hide anything, and she's moaning unreservedly, letting you know just how good she feels.

"So deep!" "Fuck right there!" "You're going to make me cum!"

You know she's close when her chin begins to dip into her chest, spending all of her strength on riding you faster, hips bucking back and forth quickly, her slick beginning to leak all over you. You also know that based on how she grips you, there's no way you can hold off your own peak, and you'll go right with her if she does.

"Ryujin, you should get off..."

"No, fuck I'm so close."

"Ryujin!"

She grabs your hands and puts them around her waist—her intent clear.

"Cum in me if you love me." It is reckless, dangerous, stupid even, but Ryujin didn't care. She just put him in checkmate—there was no hiding how either of them felt. Sure he could bluff and lift her easily off him, or he could just jam her on top of him, pump himself up into her and fucking breed her little—

"Fuckkkk!" Ryujin wails at her sinful intrusive thoughts, and she cums immediately. A fresh rush of slick covers your cock, and with Ryujin's velvet grip around you, you give in to your urges and pull her down, making sure you're driving deep into her just before you explode. Lights flash behind your eyes, a mess of hair and lips and teeth in your face as Ryujin tries to kiss you, muffling her outright scream while the two of you finish each other off. Your connection is warmer than ever—from Ryujin's juices all over your crotch, from your cum filling her womb to the brim.

Ryujin's entire body is warm as she comes back down from her high, and he's tightly hugging her. She can hear his heartbeat (or is that her own?) against her chest, and when she flexes her muscles, a heartbeat skips—she could still feel him inside her, and she's almost abnormally warm and wet down there. She winces slightly when his lips find her neck—he's leaving a mark, his mark.

"N-No marks," she protests weakly, but she doesn't really mind, her mind filled with endorphins of happiness, if anyone could see Ryujin they would see her absolutely glowing right now.

"Mm," a mumbled apology, and you're looking at Ryujin as you leave only one hickey on her neck. "You're really pretty, you don't need makeup."

"Thanks, that's random."

"Right, I umm, don't know what to say."

"Then don't." Tiredly Ryujin rests on top of you, and truthfully neither of you minded if you went back to sleep right then. But the real world calls, and Yeji is insistent, calling multiple times even after Ryujin fumbles and rejects the earlier calls.

"Yah, the hotel said you haven't checked out yet? They need to clean it!"

"Just a little longer unnie."

"Yeah, just a little more," you add on.

"Oh, so you two used one bed, hmm, that's nice."

"No, we used both beds, and shut up." Ryujin blushes and fires back immediately to cut off Yeji's cackling.

"Not bad, you didn't disappoint me or Ryujin it looks like. But seriously hurry up and check out."

"Okay okay, we will!" Ryujin ends the call before rolling off you. "God she's going to be so annoying, gonna be all like 'I told you so!', ugh."

"Yeah, we should clean up. Could you pass me the tissues?" This time it is Ryujin that helps you clean up, handing you the box of tissues as she cleans herself too. There is no time to shower, so the two of you quickly get dressed before ambashedly leaving. Before you could get to the concierge, Ryujin quickly pulls you into a side hallway.

"Hey, so what happened last night?" What is she talking about, neither of you were drunk! But the careful way she asks that question is less about your memories of last night, and what it means for the two of you for every night going forward.

"I'll take responsibility, if anything happens—" Ryujin quickly shakes her head, fidgeting slightly.

"No not that, I'll be fine, but just, what about us?"

"That's... That's up to you, did anything happen last night?" she's stumped by his question, until she's suddenly in his embrace, and he's whispering in her ear. "You're the idol, did anything happen? Is anything allowed to happen? I'll go with what you want, I don't want you to get hurt."

"Do you... want it to happen?" Is what she asks, but you look down at Ryujin looking up at you, and you understood the question. Do you want us to happen?

"Yes."

"Then it did." You lean down to kiss her, and Ryujin flashes you the brightest smile before gently pushing you away. "Not here, people might see!"

A few days later you wanted to ask Ryujin out, but you realized you didn't know how to. So you text Yeji.

*You two are idiots just ask her like a normal couple would!* is her scathing reply.

*Can I drop by, I want to ask her directly*

*She won't like that, the other members don't know yet*

*OK, can you set me up with her then, I'll meet her at a cafe or something*

*Just come by, I'll give you our address, I can't be bothered to deal with you two little cavity-inducers*

You arrive in front of their dorms, and thankfully Yeji has the sense to make Ryujin answer the door.

"Hello?" Ryujin's eyes almost pop out of her head as she hurriedly closes the door behind her. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to umm, ask you out, when are you free?"

"You couldn't have texted me?"

"I... guess I could have. But I wanted to see you." A warm fuzzy feeling fills Ryujin's heart, and she makes sure you feel the same way.

"Yeah, I missed you too." You hug her tightly, happy at her admission and confession.

"So you'll go out with me then? Whenever you're free I guess."

"Yeah." Ryujin stays silent for a moment, before her eyes twinkle and her lips curl into a smirk. "I'm free Friday, come pick me up then if you love me."

"Friday it is then."

A/N: Finally back with a story, hope it's alright. I tried playing with switching perspectives a lot more, so hopefully it's not too confusing. Getting back into things, hopefully will be posting more frequently from now on, but might not get back to the one-a-week I used to kinda do. Thanks for reading and happy holidays!

#smut #ryujin #itzy

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scara-writes · 10 months

Text

orange juice

Beta Female Reader x Y! Omega Male

Beta X Omega I rarely seen those so why not. Let us make it more spicy by making the lead yandere. I still don't understand some concept in omegaverse so... I'm gonna make my own rule lol.

Just a heads up, grammatically errors incoming. Not proof read. Anything that is in this fiction does not meant to offend anyone. That is why it's called fiction.

CW: yandere, cursing, mention of killing.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

(THIS IS REPOST BECAUSE I REALIZED THAT SIDE BLOGS HAS LIMITED ACCESS SO I MADE A NEW ACCOUNT ;∆;)

"H-hello!" You turn around to see a familiar face visiting your spa. His pretty purple eyes were eccentric the way it brightened up when he saw you acknowledging him. It's the pretty boy you've saved last week from being pick on by the Alphas.

He was surprised that a beta like you actually didn't get intimidated by the presence of them. Well technically you did, but you pretended to be a police officer showing your fake badge and that 'back-up' is on their way to apprehend them when you noticed they were not buying your bluff at first, thankfully the Alphas that were hovering on him retreated. It was kinda funny they weren't intimidated by you until you held out a fake badge that could get them in trouble by their own law.

That idea was dumb but most people always fell for your trick, though you might get in trouble someday for the false identity which is why you only use it for emergency. Long story short, your aunt taught you this for survival in this dog water society.

At first, the pink haired male glared at you, you could careless about him since you were getting annoyed by the fact that they are giving a ruckus outside your spa and its driving away your customers. You don't want your boss finding out about this. The Alpha who guards outside the house is still taking care of his wife, so all the responsibility falls onto you the only beta employee present the rest are omegas because the other betas and alphas employees has different schedule. You were the 'strongest' among the employees inside.

You stare at the omega for a second.

The heck did you do? Why's he glaring at you?

You mentally shrugged before turning around to go back to your shop, not waiting for him to whether or not he should thank you.

A sudden angry shout from him made you pause from your tracks, "You are the same as those men earlier! I-I don't need you to save me!"

You turn to him with a deadpan look. "What are you on about?"

"Y-you think omega's are powerless and need to be protected, that's why you saved me, right?!" You can see he was quivering a little bit, his eyes are starting to show disgust look towards you. "Y-you think we don't need a jobs or—or we just need to sit still and look pretty—to be use like an incubator!" You can feel in his voice that his emotions must have been bubbling out seeing that his talk is becoming incoherent.

You scratched your head and sigh irritation, "Calm down dude. First of all, that is how Alphas that are 'leading' the society viewed omegas which is bullcrap and I don't believe in that, People who thinks like that need to check their brains in the nearby hospital. Also, I believe everyone can be independent and take care of themselves long as they can, I could careless about what the society says they can't control my life. True, omegas may be weak in nature against others but that doesn't mean all of them are weak or they are only used to look pretty for giving an offspring, they can be independent too if they wanted to. Second, you probably know how to handle them seeing you are very composed earlier but this loud noise is giving me a headache and my customers are leaving because how noisy it was. Now, If I offend you in someway well then I apologize. Bye." You gave him a small lazy wave before turning away not waiting for his response, quickly strolling back to your parlor.

So here he was, late at night. You in a closing hours shift since you are the only masseuse left in the parlor on work except your friend who was waiting for you in the employees room clock out for the work and playing, from the game he just downloaded in his app called something impact. Gin san impact? Gone wrong impact? Whatever it was you were hooked when you saw it earlier and will probably download it once you got home.

"Ah yes, welcome." You acknowledge him, awkwardly. You didn't expect him to meet you on your work. He trudges towards you requesting for service menu. You quickly handed him the said item on what were on the lists of your parlor was offering for customers, telling him to sit down while he read the list of services. He skims around the menu for a few seconds before pointing at the service list and you wrote it down; Shockingly, you witness the stranger you met a week ago was going for too many services.

"Oh umm... We are 2 hours closing in. So I think I can only do the first three." You told him. He gave you an 'oh' before agreeing he will try the others the next time when he visits.

"Do you have a partner?"

He was surprised at your sudden question. So you cleared your throat."It's.... In our protocol to ask our customers...and We know that it is personal question."

You can tell he was weirded out but he told you he doesn't have one. You muttered alright and went ahead to take the menu from him. You put them back on the rack as you walk pass him to put the sign close from the glass entrance before going to a cabinet to carry a towel and some thin white cloth for him to change. You wrote his room number and guide him to his room.

He stood up and follows you.

Through out the walk you can feel him staring at your move, making you feel a little tense as the walk in the hallway of doors feels like forever.

You twisted the knob before letting yourself inside first. He smiles at you and walk inside, you gave him the items you brought earlier telling him to change and knock on the door when he is ready.

That's weird, last time you met him. He was very resentful and now he was being smiley and friendly to you. You don't mind at least he was tolerating you for now.

You closed the door behind you putting on surgical mask since some others weren't comfortable smelling their pheromones.

You heard a knock and a small 'I'm ready' and you go in.

He was sitting down. His top were bare, abs were shown on his frame except for his lower part since it was covered by the thin cloth you gave earlier, you can definitely see how smooth his skin was—no scars just a little bruise on his left thigh which is something you definitely won't asked, you quickly look anywhere before he catches you staring at him. The towel were neatly folded along the clothes he wore earlier at the other table.

The pink haired omega was looking at you and he did caught you staring but you don't know that. A small smile escape on his lips. You cleared your throat and lit up three incense candles for relaxation and turn on a relaxing music, you went on the other side of the room where the sink was and washed your hands, sanitizing it using your own towel. You look back at him to see that he was still gazing towards you. He was still sitting, you assumed this must be his first time going to a spa or massage parlor since he should be already laying on his stomach or he must be waiting for you to give him an order since he ask for three different types of session. "You should lay on your stomach so we could start now."

"Why are you wearing a mask?"

You stop applying oil on your hand at his question before resuming again. "...both parties might not be comfortable when a pheromones were smelled."

"Oh."

There was a silence between the two of you.

"I'm going to start now." He nodded, doing what you'd asked earlier and close his eyes. The small round stones were place on his spinal before proceeding on messaging him with your oily hands.

The first few minutes were the same awkward atmosphere except for the jazzy music on the background, Both of your hand slides to his shoulders, wrapping around and gave a small squeeze. You hear him whimper.

"S-sorry!" You shrugged his apologize saying that is normal for customers.

"I umm didn't say thank you when you saved me last week..."

He continued,"sorry for bothering you with your customers."

"Don't mention it. I actually didn't plan on going outside if it weren't for my coworkers since like I mentioned last time you can handle them pretty well." You bit your tongue inside since you don't know how to talk back when someone compliments you or apologize to you. You only wanted to let him know that

He must have noticed that so he continued, "...I didn't catch your name earlier."

You answered him,"It's (Y/n)..."

"(Y/n)." The way your name rolled on his voice makes your body feel a little bit weird.

"(Y/n), huh.. that's a weird name for a beta." You blink at him before chuckling at him. "You're weird. It's a normal name."

He giggled. "My names Luke."

"Your name doesn't suits you." You teased him before telling him to turn around so you can do second session.

He obliged scoffing at you as he lay back down on his back. "H-hey! Luke is pretty cool name."

"I never said it wasn't, I said it doesn't suit you."you gave him a smirk which he pouts. He look cute when he did that.

"The badge you'd shown were fake wasn't it?"

Ah shit, someone noticed it. No use of hiding it then.

"..uhh..yeah, I use it only if things goes out of hands."

The two of you talk for a bit laughing resuming the second session until it was time for his third and final session which is to massage his face.

"Is this your first time... Ummm..doing service for omegas?" His voice were small but you didn't notice he was anticipating at your answer. You hummed thoughtfully before answering. "Hmmm.. not really... I get omegas as my clients but I guess I would say this is the first time that I could finish my sessions with them."

He seemed confused which made you continue, "Ummm... Most partners of theirs were jealous and would almost instantly attack us, telling us that we shouldn't touch them, but we know that we were only doing our job as masseuse so. Of course, the customers paid us of any injuries or damage properties as well as others, we don't blame them, and it was starting to get out of hand.... Since, we don't have any other choice, we hired an Alpha to stop any ruckus. I would lie if I said I don't want to hit one of my clients' unreasonable partners."

"Oh..." You noticed his reaction when he got your question earlier about his status.

"He already went home though. He excused himself just earlier, his spouse needed him so we let him go now." You tell him. He must have realized there was no guard around earlier. Just you at the receptionist counter.

".. What's your thought about Alphas?"

"nothing much, regardless how some of them are uhh... unreasonable when it comes to greed. I'm pretty sure not all of them are all like that."

He didn't respond but you caught him rolling his eyes before closing them. He muttered something but you didn't quite catch it.

You slide and pressure your oily hands on his, you heard a purring, making you look around the room in confusion. Was there a cat somewhere?

You scan your eyes around the room for a bit more only to register that it was actually coming from him.

A little heat coming from your cheeks but you squash it down the feeling as it was inappropriate, it was good thing you were wearing a mask before he can see your reaction.

You didn't do anything about it and continue your work. Luke on the other hand felt euphoric, your hands were doing the God's work. He hasn't tell you what he felt when you save him from the bunch of alpha's trying to court him. He was grateful—no, he wasn't grateful; he was lightened up the fact you view omegas like a normal person and not dehumanising or infantilize them—considering you are a beta and has nothing to do with omega but still! He just felt happy that he wasn't the only one who has that kind of perspective.

You cleaned him up with a towel, you noticed his eyes were half dazed as if he was relaxed, you told him that he can now change back, as you blew off the candle and turn off the jazz music, washing your hands again and drying it off with your own towel. You put the other materials back to where they belong and look at the timer to see you over time. You opened the door and twisting it open to see your friend/co-worker.

He was pouting.

The pink haired male saw him through the doorway before you close the door behind you, and starts talking with your friend. His purple eyes realise he was an omega.

He felt a little pang from his chest.

"Hey, I thought you said you are going to clock out once it hits midnight~!" Tyrenn whined out. He tried to help you carry the items you were holding but you refused as the both of you struts back to the employees room, "He's the last customer."

You threw the towel and the cloth at the hamper before stretching yourself up. "Man, I'm tired." He threw you a bottle of orange juice and you catch it, twisting the cap open and drink a little bit before clocking out of work. You grab your bag and change at the changing room with your casual wear and goes outside from the employees room only with your co-worker. He tells you that you're gonna be excited on what he discovered on the game he played earlier while the both of you starts trudging at the main lobby where the counter was.

Luke was waiting, his eyes brightened up when you arrived. he waited to give you his money but your friend who was clinging at you took it from him, thanking him for accepting your service, putting them at the cash register before locking it.

He lick his dry his lips before turning to you, "Umm...thanks again. The service was great. I-I'll see you next time. It was nice meeting you." He smelled the scent of orange juice that you were holding. It was half full, there were some in the corner of your lips.

Tyrenn grabbed the bottle from your hand and you let him drink it as you start conversing with your last customer.

You nod at him, noticing he was a little taller than you. "Likewise. Should I call you a taxi? It's already past midnight."

He shook his head, smiling. "No it's fine! I live few blocks away from here." He put his left hand on his pocket while the other one was slowly pulling the glass door where he comes in.

"Oh, Be careful. I just heard that there was a serial killer roaming around this time at night killing Alphas. That doesn't mean you should be careless about it. You might never know when the killer change their mind on killing the others." You warned him. The pink haired male nodded again, smiling even more when you're worried for his safety. Tyrenn waved him a goodbye before talking to you again about the game he played earlier as he clings even more to your arms. Luke's eyes slightly twitches at the scene.

"Yes, yes I will! Thank you again!" He walked out of the parlor smiling. When he is few blocks away from the spa, his smile disappear.

He might change his mind on killing your friend though.

1K notes · View notes

cordeliawhohung · 13 days

Text

Soft Spot - Part 3

Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!Reader - part thirteen of "soft spot"

taglist | playlist | dissection links

you're so used to the teeth that they don't even hurt anymore

warnings: childhood trauma, mentions of past abuse, mentions of past torture, threats and unkind language

wc: 4.4k

Some part of you always knew you’d see him again, but you never imagined it would be like that.

In your pitiful daydreams, you always envisioned things would be darker; scarier, even. You’d find him again in some dim corner where he would trap you and would lurk and stare until he was ready to pounce. In the version of yourself in your daydreams, you were stronger. You knew exactly what to say, how to convey how you felt, but most importantly, he would pay. He would pay for every single transgression he wrought upon you and your mother. You would never have to see him again. But it was wrong. You weren’t supposed to run into him there. Not on a perfect day like that.

It would have been a perfect day.

The warmth of the sun on your skin, the laughter of everyone around you; you had every right to enjoy that day. To bask in the beauty of the trees with their singing, fluttering leaves, and to soak up the fragrance of tulips and freshly trimmed grass. But behind it all, there was always something lurking. A second layer you hadn’t yet exposed. The rotting carcass of a bird nestled by the trunk of a tree. Musty hot car exhaust from the street on the other side of the park. A man too angry for his own good and his daughter petrified on the bench.

The smell of cigarettes.

Your eyes had no choice but to stay glued onto the man in front of you. So many years had gone by, and though his age caught up to him, that unbridled rage that festered within him was painfully distinct. It was his eyes, it always was. You could see every thought and intention that came to fruition in his thoughts, and though he smiled, you knew none of it was good. It alerted some primal instinct in the back of your mind that screamed at you to run, to fight. All you could do was place your hands on your stomach and hope Simon would return soon.

“I don’t have anything to say to you.” The words flew out of your mouth of their own volition, like some sort of ghost had taken control of your body and given you the strength to say them.

Your father snorted as he took a step closer to you, and you had no choice but to watch him sink down into the seat next to you. His movements were slow, frail even. There was something wrong with him, as if he rotted from the inside out. Perhaps all his wrongdoings had finally caught up with him, and you took an odd sort of comfort in the thought he looked too sick to properly hurt anyone other than himself.

“Haven’t seen each other in years and you have nothing to say? Bullshit.” He coughed. It sounded wet, and you could make out the sticky sounds of it clinging in the back of his throat. “Though, the last time we talked you didn’t have anything to say to me but a threat.”

He was right. A threat. A promise. Maybe both. Whatever it was, you had meant every word of it at the time when you said you would kill him if he ever hit you again. That felt like forever ago. Some other lifetime. Really, you were surprised he even remembered it at all. No, of course he remembered it. He would always remember the worst parts of you; the parts of you he could twist and use against you.

“I still mean it,” you said.

It was an empty promise. You knew that, and he knew that too.

“Sure thing, darling,” he said with a chuckle. “You’ll do a whole lot of damage in… this state.”

No surprise bloomed in your chest at his comment, but disgust did. Having to see that vile man again was already bad enough, but seeing him while you were pregnant was a different form of degradation. It felt violating to be perceived in such a disgusting way, especially by the man who fathered you. Him seeing your mother pregnant hadn’t pulled on his heartstrings to save her from the terrible fate of his fury, and it certainly wouldn’t save you.

“So, who’s the dad? Some rich American? Surprised to see you back here after you ran off to play school girl in the States,” he sneered.

“You don’t have the right to ask that,” you snapped.

“Don’t I?” he challenged. “You’re my daughter.”

“I’m nothing of yours.”

A heavy sigh left your father’s lips as he adjusted his position on the bench. You hadn’t moved an inch since he approached you, and even your son seemed to know well enough to stay dormant inside of you.

“You always have to be difficult,” your father huffed.

“What the fuck do you want?” you bit. Intense eyes landed on the pathetic figure next to you, and you found your hands balling into fists in your lap. “We haven't spoken for years, and you think it’s okay to just stroll up to me in the damn park for a conversation?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said with a glare. “Remember, you were the one who cut contact with me, not the other way around, darling.”

“Because you are a piece of shit, and you know it,” you retorted. “You’ve never been useful for a goddamn thing in your entire life. You beat my mother, beat me, and then left her to die when she got sick like she was a fucking toy you were tired of playing with. All that shit and you think you have any right to talk to me? To approach me and act like nothing happened?”

“Don’t raise your voice at me, girl,” your father warned. “I don’t give a fuck if you’re knocked up, you don’t get to speak to me like that.”

You weren’t sure what made your body move the way it did, but suddenly you were on your feet with your back facing him. Everything happened of its own accord. The way your feet moved along the pavement. How your heart thundered in your chest so violently you swore it would break your ribs. A sense of self preservation consumed your body and its senses as it did its best to get you away from the threat of your father. You were in no shape to fight, and you couldn’t afford to freeze, so you took flight.

But you had never been very good at getting away.

The brutal cycle of getting caught continued in the same way it always had; with a hand around your wrist. Your father’s grip was just as unforgiving as Bukin’s had been, and the same as Eric before him. Just like all the other times, you turned to face the aggressor with a bewildered glare on your face, incapable of holding back neither your fear nor your anger.

“How long do you think you can keep running? Huh? Before your legs stop working? Before someone breaks them?” he asked, his tone all but demanding an answer from you.

“Who the fuck do you think you are? Truly?” you questioned.

“I’m your fuckin’ father,” he retorted.

Hot breath fanned across your face and you could almost taste the rancid tobacco leftover in his lungs. It was enough to make your stomach turn, and with the anxiety pooling in your stomach you nearly puked, but you held strong as you wiggled your wrist out of his grasp.

“You are nothing to me. Not my father, not my family; nothing,” you spat. “I know you’ve got it in that thick skull of yours that you have some odd ownership over me because you fathered me, but that’s where our relationship ends. Do you understand me? I’ve lived my life fine without you. I’ll continue without you. I’ll have this kid that you’ll see no part of. I’ll get the life I always deserved while you die, alone and unloved, and nobody will fucking miss you at all.”

A heavy silence weighed on your shoulders as you watched your father’s face morph in front of you. He was always an angry man, but his true nature was something your nightmares could never quite capture. They could never paint the twitch of his lips or the flexing of his jaw, or the way his fingers buzzed with anticipation. Your fuzzy childhood memories paled in comparison to the real, unbridled enjoyment your father experienced when instilling fear and pain in someone.

Maybe that’s why you never learned. Not because violence wasn’t a good teacher, but because you could never remember just how bad it hurt. Not until you were there in the maw of the beast.

Whatever you thought was there lurking in your father’s features vanished faster than it had formed. Your father’s eyes scanned every inch of your scowl and you watched them light up with something sinister and wicked the moment they landed on the corner of your lip. A grin replaced the anger on his face as he took in the sight of that unsightly scar that still plagued the corner of your lips even after all those years, and you almost flinched. As his quiet and sour chuckle sounded, you knew exactly what he thought. He hadn’t given you that scar, which meant you had never truly escaped trouble as much as you wanted to pretend you did.

But you did. You climbed away from that life, fought tooth and nail just to live without violence, and you made it. Each night you were able to go to bed in the arms of a man who had never once caused you harm. In the mornings you would wake up to fresh air and a chaste kiss before you ever even slithered out from underneath the covers. The only bruises that tainted your skin were ones caused by unseen table corners, not the fists of an angry man.

Yet you knew he would never believe you. Abusers always had to come out victorious, even if that meant dipping their mind into their own delusions. You would sooner turn to dust and bone before your words would ever reach him, and he seemed to hold himself with pride over that fact.

He chuckled again, louder that time, and looked down at the ground for a short moment as he shook his head. His eyes landed on you again with humor before he shrugged. “Keep telling yourself that, darling.”

A large hand settled on your stomach as you felt a looming presence gently pull you away from the monster of your childhood. You didn’t even have to look up at the figure to know it was Simon; you knew him by touch alone. Your body did not untense at all even with him there, and the distilled anger was palpable on your husband. Dark eyes glared at your father, who hardly bothered to look Simon up and down.

All it would take would be one word. Something to anger your father, to get him to lose his judgment, to get him to lunge. A vile, dormant anger inside of you wanted to. Wanted to goad your father into attacking just to watch what Simon would do. You’d seen what he was capable of. Watched him break a beast’s arm and stomp on it just to feel the bone crunch under his boot. It was so easy for him to pull that trigger and end the life of a man simply for calling you darling. If only he knew half the things your father had said to you.

How much would he have to bleed to make it feel better? How many bones would have to break? Would it ever be enough? Could more violence ever satiate the need for revenge that stowed itself away inside of you? Did that make you just like your father? Did you even care? No, it would never be enough. There was no penance he could offer you that wouldn’t just turn your stomach sour.

He would get his turn. One day. If you were lucky, you would never even hear of it.

“I never want to see or hear from you again. I mean it,” you said as your eyes locked on him.

Your father’s eyes flickered up to Simon, where he finally seemed to understand the weight of the situation. He was old; a stupid drunk with nothing to fight with but a decayed body and rotten core — something Simon could shatter in an instant. Perhaps he finally realized he didn’t have as much power over his little girl like he thought he did, or maybe his self preservation instincts kicked in, but your father finally took a step back with a shrug.

“Whatever you want,” he said.

It wasn’t until you were halfway back to the car that you realized Simon tried to grab your attention. Your name fell from his lips hushed and even, yet no matter how hard he tried it was impossible for him to mask the worry it was drenched with. His pace was slow compared to usual, but then again it wasn’t like you could move as fast as you would have liked. You wanted to run — run to the edge of the world and never look back, yet you were so painfully present on earth.

“Sweetheart, slow down,” Simon said, trying to calm you.

“I’m fine.”

Those were the first words you were able to choke out, and you hadn’t realized how tight your throat felt until you said them. Still, you continued to push ahead, chest heaving with anxiety as you got closer to Simon’s car. All you wanted to do was go home. It seemed that’s all you ever wanted to do.

“Who was that?” Simon then asked, still trying to pull answers from you.

“Your father-in-law.”

There was no need for further explanation. Simon was well aware of the horrors you had to fight when you were a kid. A storm swirled in your mind so violently even he could feel the raging wind, and rather than try and fruitlessly fight it off, he chose to weather the storm with you instead.

The ride home was a blur with your thoughts so full to the brim yet simultaneously empty. Numb. It had been a long while since you had felt that way, and it didn’t wane until Simon unlocked the door to the flat where you pitifully shuffled over to the couch. Boo beat Simon to your side, and he instantly attempted to climb up on top of your stomach as if it were a perch and not where your child rested inside of you. You wanted to smile at him, but all you could manage was a quivering bottom lip.

“Sweetheart,” Simon tried again as you pushed your overly zealous cat off your lap. “Talk to me.”

Instead of sinking into the cushion next to you, he crouched on the floor where his hands quickly found yours. Every nerve in your body felt fried, too hot for you to exist properly. It traversed up your body in painful waves until the pressure built up so much behind your eyes you swore they would burst from your skull.

“I hate him,” you said, voice trembling. “I hate him so much. It’s been years and- and he shows up now? When everything is good? Wh- When I’m like this?”

You paused for a moment as the rush of hormones nearly suffocated you. Eyes overflowed with tears as you sniffled back the snot that started to run in your nose. You wanted to take your hands out of Simon’s in order to rub at your eyes, but his thumb running along your knuckles was too comforting for you to deprive yourself of that feeling.

“And I want him to pay. For everything. For all the years of bullshit he put mum and I through. But it feels so far out of reach because no matter what it’s not good enough. I just hate feeling like this, so fucking useless.”

Simon’s hands moved up from your hands, across your arms, along your shoulders, and all the way up until he cupped your cheeks in his hands. Everything felt heavy, yet he held your head high as he shifted closer to you.

“I know it’s hard. It’s never easy running into monsters like him,” he said. “But he’s never gonna see you again. Never layin’ a fuckin’ hand on you either.”

“It’s not that, it’s just… he makes me feel like a kid and I hate it,” you said in a near whisper.

“I know,” Simon shushed as he moved up to sit on the couch next to you. His arms wrapped around your body as he drew you as close to his chest as your body could comfortably contort. His warmth was all consuming, settling your frayed nerves as his hand traced along your waist. “I know.”

His chin rested on the top of your head while you did your best to calm your breathing into something more manageable. That simple action — breathing — had already grown to be so difficult those days with the extra weight on your diaphragm, but the crushing feeling of being reduced into nothing but a scared little girl again was unbearable.

“Family is bullshit, anyway,” Simon suddenly chirped. “Don’t have to keep anyone around that you don’t want. Could just be me and you, if you want. You, me, and our boy.”

Our boy. Those words had your tears falling harder than they did before. Having a child wouldn’t fix all your problems, and you were very much aware of that fact. Children weren’t supposed to be the glue that mended old wounds, like so many people wished they would be. Yet still, an odd sort of excitement flickered at the thought that you could one day erase it all. Erase all the parts of your life, and replace it with something truly worth living for.

Like Simon.

Like your son.

The prospect of no longer being your father’s daughter was an exciting one. Maybe your unfortunate conversation with him had been the universe’s way of getting you to say goodbye, though you could have very well done without one. Either way, none of it mattered. It was done. You would have a child to fuss over before long, and you didn’t need thoughts of a sour old man ruining that joy.

You didn’t even think of your father that night as you and Simon settled in for bed. There was too much love to enjoy in the warmth of his arms as he held you close to his chest that there was no room for anything else. Simon’s hands roamed your stomach, as they often did those days, where they settled at the top of your abdomen as if waiting for a good kick. For a moment, everything was still as Boo curled up against your legs with a quiet purr, and a smile curled your lips as you felt Simon’s lips press against the back of your neck.

Except, no matter how good things got, you always seemed to end up back in that basement. Some days it was difficult to tell if you left a piece of yourself there, or if a piece of it had clung to you even after so many years. Either way, it didn’t change the fact you stood in that room with its pale lilac walls that were still just as empty and bare as the first day you woke up in that cursed place.

However, several items were missing from their usual spot in that room. There was no door to the bathroom in which you spent so many hours hiding in, or the bed with the quilt you had spent half a day bleeding into. In fact, an entire wall had all but vanished, giving you the perfect view of the ocean with its salty waves. A comforting freshness lingered in the air rather than the rotten scent of iron, and for the first time in years, you didn’t feel scared.

“He’s so handsome.”

An old rocking chair creaked in the center of the room as your mother sat rocking a bundle of blankets in her arms. The back of her head faced you as her attention was soaked up by something else, something new, and your wavering feet shuffled closer to her.

“Who?” you asked, attempting to peer over her shoulder.

“My grandson,” she replied with a chuckle.

Impatient eyes peered over your mothers shoulder as you tried to steal a glance at the baby boy, yet no matter what angle you tried to get, his face always seemed to be obscured by the blanket. He was so quiet, so much so that the waves crashing on the shore just beyond that missing wall drowned out each quiet whine and sigh.

“He looks so much like you,” your mother cooed. “Good thing, too. I was worried he’d get Simon’s nose.”

You laughed, and it was strange. You never thought you’d be laughing in that basement.

“Simon’s got a fine nose,” you defended.

“Oh, I’m sure he does. Underneath all the scar tissue, anyway,” your mother teased.

Your laughter sounded in harmonious unison as she finally looked away from your son and up at you. Her eyes shined brighter than any other time you could remember in your dreams. She looked so real it was almost like you could reach out and hug her again like you used to when you were a kid.

“Can I see him?” you asked.

“Not yet. Just let me have this for a moment. You’ll see him soon enough,” she replied.

She paused as her bottom lip began to tremble.

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispered.

“What for?” you asked.

“Everything.”

There was no need to ask for further explanation; it was written in her face. Despite everything that had happened to you throughout your life, there was the indomitable will to survive, even if that just meant more suffering. After so many years, your suffering finally bore fruit. You no longer had to go to sleep wondering if you’d wake up to shattered porcelain on the floor. Unlike her, you had escaped.

That’s all she had ever wanted for you — for someone to take care of you.

Your mother’s attention wandered back to the missing wall in front of her, and your gaze followed. Fluffy clouds billowed along the horizon, and seagulls danced in the sky together while they sang to one another. That ocean was brighter than you had remembered it, like the sun had finally peeked through the clouds.

“I think it’s time for you to go home,” she said.

“Home?” you repeated.

She nodded. “You don’t need to keep coming here anymore.”

She was right. You were tired of that basement. Tired of the memories that haunted you from time to time. They would always be with you in some way, but you couldn’t wait to drown them with new memories. Better memories.

There was no need for a goodbye, as you had said them years ago to that wretched place. Instead, your feet trudged forward until carpet turned into grass. Cold wind moved freely around your body as it beckoned you closer to the crashing waves on the sandy shore. When your feet got close enough to the water that it nearly kissed your toes, you turned around only to find the house, and its terrible basement, had vanished.

That was the last time you ever looked back.

Searing hot pain ripped through your body when you woke up. It rippled all throughout your abdomen in a wave so vicious it took your breath away. Boo, who had been by your feet when you had fallen asleep, pawed at your face as he purred and bashed his head against yours. The pain left you nearly incapacitated for a moment until the wave eventually waned, and it was only then that you were able to slowly push yourself up so that you sat with your legs over the side of the bed.

Sticky sweat clung to your body with little remorse for your comfort, and you tried your best to calm your racing heart with a steady breath. In some poor attempt to assist you, Boo pawed at your aching stomach with an annoyed meow. You gently pushed him away, only for him to whine. Simon grunted, half awake yet still irked by the creature’s impressively loud demands for attention.

Simon didn’t fully wake up until a second wave of pain hit you, and you were unable to hold back the squeaky wince that it forced out of you. The bed shook as Simon’s hulking frame tore the blankets off of his body and scooted so that he sat next to you. His hand rested firmly against your back, yet he almost retracted when he felt your muscles tense and nearly tear with the strength of your contractions. Had it not been for the little human in your womb blocking your way, you were certain you would’ve been doubled over in pain.

“Talk to me, sweetheart. What do you need?” Simon urged.

It was impossible to get any words out with the intensity of it all, and for a moment the only thing you could do was pant sharply as you tried to keep yourself from hyperventilating. You leaned your head to the side where it rested on Simon’s shoulder while your teeth nearly shattered as your jaw clenched. Eventually, the pain diminished once more, allowing your brain to clear just long enough to form a proper thought.

“He’s coming,” you panted. Your hand reached up to wipe the sweat from your upper lip, and your entire body shuddered with a sigh. “Fuck, we gotta- gotta go.”

“Okay, yeah,” Simon said.

He slipped off of the bed to stand in front of you, hands quickly capturing yours in his. His voice was calm and even, and not even his grip trembled as he helped you to your feet. Simon was always strong. Never one to show when he was nervous. But even then, you swore you could feel his racing heart pulse in his fingertips.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #f!reader #soft spot

182 notes · View notes

sohnric · 8 months

Text

millennium bug – e. sohn

pairing: eric sohn x fem! reader

genre: 90s au, twenty-five twenty-one au, brother's best friend au, childhood friends au, fluff, slice of life, coming of age. older brother! sunwoo. essentially just eric being baek yijin. oct-nov scenes inspired by weak hero class 1. no plot just vibes im sorry

warnings: minimal swearing and thats all lol

word count: 19k

a/n: posting a fic for a new fandom is always so scary pls be nice to me deobiblr bc im literally abt to cry. also yes i am calling this a 2521 au bc the plot is so heavily inspired it might just be one. a special thank you goes out to @csenke for dragging me into stanning this group i am enjoying myself 🤞

there are some pros and cons to not having friends growing up. cons: you're always forced to tag along with your brother and his group wherever he goes. pros: his childhood best friend is kind of hot.

JUNE OF 1999

Being Kim Sunwoo’s younger sister is no bed of roses sometimes.

Sure, you get the occasional excitement of having him bring you rollerskating with you down the hill or the ever so rare moments of him defending you in front of your mother when you two have done something wrong (while never saying he was in on the bad act as well, of course), but more than often, you are met with his disgusted looks and insults whenever the two years older boy passes by your room and casually bangs at the door just to spite you.

His snarky looks are especially ones to remember. Maybe it’s because he offers them to you often– much like in this very moment, completely unprovoked, and completely not by your fault.

“But mum–”

“I already told you, Sunwoo,” your mother looks at him with a stern look in her eye, the one that makes chills run down your spine, “you can go if you take Y/N with you.”

“But nobody’s bringing their sister! Mum, come on–”

“Take it or leave it, young man.”

And see, your brother may be 19 years old, but he’s still in need of getting permission to leave the house if it includes an overnight stay. It’s an unspoken rule he always follows, since he’s usually granted the right to leave, but the result of his conversation was different than what he expected this time. And see, you may be just two years younger than him (one year left until you are an adult), but even though your mother is too busy to take care of you and entertain your slowly adultling self on most days because of her highly demanding job, she always makes sure that you don’t stay alone for long, and that’s exactly why (you realize, contrary to your brother) she insists on making you tag along on Sunwoo’s trip to the beach house with his friends.

The male grunts and turns on his heel, not giving your mother another response– and with this, you know she won. And that means you’ll have to pack your bag soon, because you know that there’s no way Sunwoo would miss going to the beach house with his friends– even if it meant making his little sister tag along.

And sure enough, Lee Juyeon’s minivan pulls up into your driveway only a few hours later, and the sound of the honking outside is enough for your older brother to aggressively drag you outside of the house, shutting the door behind you and hollering an angry “Bye mum!” to your mother. Your figure is handled with the least amount of care possible as you’re thrown towards the white van, the door opened and 5 heads already peeking out with expecting eyes, waiting for your brother’s arrival.

“My mum made my stupid sister go with me, so I hope we have space for one more,” Sunwoo huffs as he throws his bag into the trunk, slamming it with more force than was necessary (boy does he know how to throw a scene), an encouraging voice of none other than Juyeon– the driver himself– landing in your ear.

“Sure, just hop in!”

With that, your feet finally unglue themselves off the ground and bring you into the vehicle. You’re familiar with his friends– since a scenario like this hasn’t happened for the first time and you had to spend your fair time with Sunwoo’s circle growing up, mainly because you never really had many friends yourself. You’re not close with any of them, though, and you’re sure you haven’t seen half of them for ages.

Lee Juyeon is the responsible one of the group. You’re comfortable with the fact that he’s the driver, since you’re not entirely sure if you’d trust any of the other men in this space behind the wheel (you fear the day your brother gets a driver’s license. You'd bet a million dollars that he’ll die while driving recklessly one day). Next to him on the passenger’s seat is Choi Chanhee, his best friend, carrying a map in his hands and twirling it in all possible directions to get his friend on the right track. In the three-seat behind those two is Ju Haknyeon, Ji Changmin and your brother himself, and in the very back of the whole van, almost in the trunk, you’re sat next to Eric Sohn– your brother’s childhood best friend.

“Hi guys,” you offer a greeting to all of them, settling into the uncomfortable leather seat (that’s peeling off, just by the way), watching as the rest of the men pay you no mind and ignore your voice, falling into a comfortable conversation with each other.

Sighing, because this always happens– your brother gets too annoyed because he has to bring you with him all the time, and you imagine his friends aren’t fond of the fact either– you settle deeper into the seat and cross your hands on your chest, looking outside of the window. You can’t imagine enjoying your trip now, since you feel like you’re a nuisance, a child they have to take care of (yes, it embarrasses you just the tiniest bit, you have to admit. Although, you do enjoy getting out of the house from time to time), and the fact that your feelings were probably more than justified and also true has you pouting, an unsatisfied feeling weighing at your lungs.

“Hi,” a voice resonates from your side, the sight of a smiling Eric peering at you taking you off guard. You didn’t expect anyone to react to your greeting– not so delayed anyway– and the sight of your brother’s best friend carrying on in the conversation with you has you shocked beyond belief. “Excited?”

Finding yourself hum in agreement– how much you are still excited for the pool and for the sun, you’re not really sure– and although you are upset, something about his open and nice demeanor has you visibly relaxing, the sparkles inviting themselves back into your eyes. “I’ve never been to the beach,” you admit, seeing Eric gasp at you in surprise.

“Really?” he asks. “I go every year with my parents.”

“Well,” you hum, “you know how my mother is…” you sigh, chewing on the inside of your cheek. It’s easier to joke about it than to actually let the fact get to you– with your mother being the main news anchor, she is too busy to actually go on trips and form bonds with her own children sometimes. That’s why you spent most of your childhood at Eric’s family’s house in the first place– this is what made you the closest with Sunwoo’s same aged friend. His parents were nice enough to let you stay over and have sleepovers whenever your mum had to leave suddenly and take week-long trips abroad, or have emergency shifts during late evenings.

Eric hums, sympathizing with you. “Well, at least you get to experience it now!”

“Yeah,” you awkwardly nod, playing with the hem of your jean shorts. It’s the shorts you made yourself by cutting the legs off your favorite pants after you grew out of them and they got too short, and they’re starting to look a little worn-out now. Maybe you should beg your mum to get you some new clothing.

The conversation between the boys grows in volume, doing nothing to help you to relax in the crowded vehicle. You can’t really find a place to fit yourself in and talk, the topics too unfamiliar for you and the feeling of not even being welcome in the discussion sitting heavy on your chest, when a finger bears itself to the flesh of your thigh, making you snap your head around to gape at the source of the contact. Eric looks at you with a boyish grin, sparkles evident in his eyes.

“Wanna see something?” he asks.

“Sure.”

The male digs around his backpack, hands searching through the contents of his bag for only a couple of seconds– since he’s the neat one, contrary to your messy brother– before he takes out a small gadget: a square with a little screen on top, a silver, circular button space sitting big in the very middle of the device. Eric throws the thing into your lap, smiling when you take it into your hands and examine it with curious eyes.

“Have you seen one before? My dad got it for me last week,” he boosts, satisfied with your reaction to it.

Your mother’s job pays quite well– meaning that you usually have the latest gadgets, the latest trends– but if you’re being honest, you haven’t seen one of these in real life before. Yes, you caught a glimpse of an ad for it in the town center, on one of the big billboards while passing by to get to school in the morning, so you know that it’s an MP3 player, but still; this was your first time touching one and examining it in real life.

“How does it work?” you ask, watching as the boy scoots from his seat to the middle one, so he is now sitting directly next to you, before he takes out wired headphones from the first department of his backpack and turns the little square over in his hands, finding where the jack goes.

“You put those in,” he says, plugging in the headphones, “and then you press this…” he explains, taking the device out of your hand and pushing on the power button for a few seconds, “and then it should play.”

Watching him with expecting eyes, the boy finally puts the MP3 player back into your hold. Then, his fingers swiftly put the respective earphones into your ears– like you’d do to a little kid that has no idea how they work, making you a little flushed at the action– and after that, you’re left with the sound of an unfamiliar song playing in your ears, making the sound of the chatter in the van completely tune out. Eric keeps on watching you, a sense of pride in his eyes as you nod at him, all excited with the new explory, before he takes one of the earphones out of your ear, grinning.

“Cool, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “The song is good,” you dumbly say, watching as the boy next to you pridefully nods at the compliment, resting his back against the car seat.

“It’s the H.O.T album. My dad says they’re good,” he mumbles, moving the headphone he took from you and placing it into his ear, making you nod at him in acknowledgement. The action has your insides bubble with disappointment, thinking that the fun is over as you reach for the other earphone as well, offering it to the male.

Eric looks at you with a shocked pout, shaking his head. “No, we can share!” he says, pointing towards your ear. “If you want, of course.”

The action has you smiling, a shy nod escaping out of you as you reach and put the earphone back into your ear, letting yourself fall deeper into the car seat, listening to the song from Eric’s MP3 player. You’re grateful for his presence– he didn’t have to keep up a conversation with you. He could ignore you, just like the rest of his friend group always has. Maybe it was something about the two of you growing up together that always made the boy at least a bit more affectionate towards you than the rest.

You spend the car ride to the beach house with Eric leaning on your side, listening to music and his occasional blabbering about how his previous days went.

Somehow, you're glad the seat beside him was the only vacant one when you arrived to the vehicle.

YOUR SEVENTH BIRTHDAY, 1989

You don't quite remember when you met Eric for the first time, if you’re being completely honest. The first memory you have of him is of your seventh birthday party, although you’re almost certain the boy’s been present at some point of your life before– at one point, you think you saw a picture of him and Sunwoo, two chubby toddlers, watching you as you laid on a blanket on the ground somewhere in your photo album. As far as you’re concerned, he may as well have been there when your mother brought you back from the hospital– although you think he must have been too young for that back then.

The first memory you have of Eric Sohn is the day you turned seven– a gloomy, sad day that in the moment, you prayed you wouldn’t have to remember in the first place.

It was already established that while your brother is the social butterfly, you don’t have a big friend group. Actually, you could count the number of your friends on one hand, and since the amount wasn’t as big, your mother allowed you to invite them all over to your house to celebrate your birthday with you.

She baked a cake, she decorated the living room, hell, she even took a day off from work– something you deemed special, for it doesn’t happen often– and as you sat on the floor of your living room, the cake standing proud on the small coffee table, waiting for your friends to arrive, you hummed a song under your breath, the clock slowly passing the time you agreed for them to come over and celebrate.

At first, you didn’t mind it– everybody gets late sometimes, it’s okay. It was just a birthday party, and you had a lot of time. Not everything had to be set on schedule.

But the closer the clock moved to being one hour, than two after the time your friends were supposed to come, you grew worried. Your mother’s nervous pacing around the living room and her heavy sighs as she sat next to you on the floor, smiling at you in what you can only explain as sad way made you more and more anxious about the fact that you only had three friends, but all three of them seemed to not care enough to come celebrate your birthday with you. And as your mother finally took the final bow in the form of a soft hand on your inner thigh, her tone gentle as she called your name– “Y/N, I think we should light the candles,” you began to tear up.

You were supposed to eat the cake with your friends. You were supposed to hear them sing the birthday song to you. You were supposed to turn on the radio and dance around with your classmates, eat the sweets and unwrap the cheap, but heartfelt gifts they brought along with them to celebrate your birthday.

But none of these scenarios were happening, and you felt incredibly, incredibly lonely and sad. Forgotten, if you will. Not cared for, definitely.

Hiding your face into your hands, you started to cry. This disappointment was too big for your small heart to take, and you no longer cared about the cake, the candles, the seaweed soup your mother cooked for you to celebrate, the gifts, or the party. All you wanted to do was hide in your room and never come out– something about the whole situation felt deeply embarrassing, and to this day, the moment before the whole day turned around still makes you feel a bit ashamed of yourself.

Too busy crying, you didn’t notice your older brother watching you with big bambi eyes, a worried glance sent your way each time your sobs grew louder and louder. And maybe the boy only wanted to taste the cake (he’s been bugging your mum about it since the very morning, but he was always sent off with a scolding look telling him that he’ll get a slice when everyone arrives), but no matter what his true intentions were, his actions still managed to pull your seventh birthday party together in a way you never imagined.

The sound of the front door faintly resonated in your brain somewhere in the middle of your aimless sobbing, but you paid it no mind, thinking it was just Sunwoo going out to the yard to kick the ball. See, your older brother had never really known what to do when you cried growing up– it didn’t matter if he was the reason for your tears or if anyone else was. If he was the reason for your emotional outbursts, he tried to shut you up with his palm and get you to stop crying before his mother found out and gave him a scolding, but if someone else was, the small boy sometimes turned angry at the source. Kicking his classmate that once made a snarky comment about you and made you tear up or punching his friend when he was too harsh with you was all he knew to do in these situations, so he wasn’t the one to comfort you with words or hugs. It was only natural for him to escape in this situation.

You were brought to a state of shock and surprise when a hand landed on your shoulder, a familiar voice breaking you from your emotional turmoil.

“Why are you crying? We have to eat the cake!” you heard, your big, sad eyes meeting the small figure of the boy living next door, your brother nervously stepping from one side to the other right behind his best friend. “Can you light the candles, Mrs?” Eric politely asked your mum, pointing towards the cake waiting sadly at the coffee table, the figure of your mother leaving your side only shortly to get the matches from the kitchen and illuminate your face with the small flames.

Confusion mirrored your features as you watched your brother and his best friend sing the birthday song to you while your mum lit your candles, both boys clapping and dancing around, acting silly just to get a laugh from you. You didn't know how Eric got there, but you guessed there are some good sides to having him as your neighbor. The energetic boy did his best to brighten up your mood a bit, and when you blew out the candle, making a wish, Sunwoo even went as far as smashing your face into the cake to bring in the full birthday authenticity.

That got him a slap to the back of his head from your mother, as well as made you stand up from your position– no longer making you look like a disappointed bulk of pity– and chase him around the room, icing falling off your nose to the laminated floor. You got your revenge and smeared the chocolate all over his forehead (he let you chase him down only because it was your birthday and he really, really hated to see his sister cry, but he won’t ever tell you that) and as the three of you sat back down to the floor, watching your mother slice the cake and offer it to you on small white plates, you realized you suddenly weren't as sad anymore.

“What did you wish for?” Eric asked you, mouth full of cake and face messy with chocolate.

“I can’t tell you,” you hummed, eyebrows furrowed. “Then it won’t come true.”

“You probably wished for that doll you saw in the store the other day,” Sunwoo snickered as he swallowed, having you glare at him and send a sharp kick to his shin, unwatched by your mother (thankfully), as the boy fought you back, having no mercy.

Music suddenly filled the room as Eric stood up and put the radio on, his 9 year old brain smart enough to know how the device worked, his small figure dancing away to the songs playing on the single radio station you could play without carefully sorting out the antenna so it faced the north, and truly, you didn’t know how it happened, but it had you standing up and dancing around, exactly how you'd imagined doing with your friends from school.

The day wasn’t ruined– quite the opposite, really. It was one of your favorite birthday parties, and ever since then, Eric was invited to every single one you had after. And while Sunwoo may act like he doesn’t hate anything more in this world than having a younger sister, every time you feel like a burden to him, you remember this very afternoon.

You will never tell anyone what you wished for that day– but just to let everyone in on the secret,

it was to somehow, just like Sunwoo, find someone like Eric for yourself as well.

JUNE OF 1999

Standing at the side of the pool, eyes squinting from the inevitable force of the sun, you’re starting to regret your decision of coming along just a little. See, you usually don’t protest whenever Sunwoo aggressively drags you around and brings you everywhere he’s supposed to, because even though you love to see your brother angry (especially when you’re the reason behind the emotion), you’d also hate to see him miss out, but now, as the scorching hot sun is having no mercy on every exposed inch of skin– and believe me, there’s a lot of it, since you’re wearing your swimming trunks– and the sweat on your forehead is no longer culminating in beads, but rolling painfully slowly down your forehead, you do admit you’d be a little bit happier in the shade of your little room than here, watching the guys play volleyball in the comfort of the freezing cold pool.

And as the only female around the house, you settle with the patriarchy and bring out a small folding chair and a camping table alongside with a big, sharp knife, struggling to hoist up the giant watermelon you got in a grocery store on your way to the beach house, with the intention of cutting it and serving it to the guys later. Who knows, maybe they’ll like you a little more after that.

The knife sinks into the thick green skin of the watermelon easily, and so as you accompany yourself with the excited (and not so excited screams coming from the losing side of the game– mainly your brother himself), you cut up the fruit into halves, then quarters, and as you stare at the moon crescents settled on the camping table, you decide to play nice and cut up the fruit into smaller triangles as well, to really get on everyone’s good side.

The yearning for male validation awakes in a woman pretty early on in life. It’s an inevitable misfortune.

“Told you Sunwoo’s all talk but no game!” you hear Haknyeon yell out as the game seemingly ends, the younger boy lunging at him in the pool, fighting him for the truthful words. Glancing at the commotion, you notice the guys slowly getting out of the pool, making you heave out in victory– you’re finally gonna have your turn in the pool. Well, if they don’t decide to occupy it again before you even get a chance to get in.

“Y/N! You cut up the watermelon?” Eric asks a very obvious question, walking up to you with beads of water all over his half-naked body. His dark hair is damply sitting against his forehead, making him look like a wet puppy, but as the male gets closer to you, he drags his palm through the locks and pushes them back, revealing his forehead– a sight sweet to your eyes, but you refuse to pay it much attention in the heat of the moment. It’s just the sun making you delirious as the idea of finding him attractive flashes through your brain, that’s all.

“I did! Take one,” you smile, watching as the rest of the guys walk over to your little stand– while also obnoxiously swatting out water out of their hair like dogs, refusing to use towels like normal people– and finally, there it comes: appreciative smiles appear on their faces as they each take a piece, biting down on the fruit with delighted sighs.

Sunwoo walks up to you with a surprised look on his face, sighing as he messes with your hair. “If I knew you’d be our servant, I wouldn’t have even minded you going in the first place.”

“You do something nice for people and they jump on the chance to exploit you,” you hum, shaking your head in disbelief. “That’s just like you, Kim Sunwoo.”

“No, that’s just me having older brother privileges.”

“I hope you choke on that, you know,” you bite at him, pointing towards the piece of sweet watermelon in his hands, the smile on his face turning bitter. There’s a satisfied look on your face when your brother does, indeed, choke on a watermelon seed a few seconds later– and they say dreams don’t come true.

“You didn’t have to,” you hear Eric speak up from the other side, your head turning to face the male, his features appreciative and warm. “Thank you,” he beams. There’s redness on the tip of his nose and his forehead, signaling his quickly approaching sunburn, and you can’t help but laugh out at his clueless, Rudolph the red nosed reindeer self.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, furrowing his eyebrows at you in question.

“Nothing,” you peep, “you just look like you forgot to use sunscreen,” you mumble, watching as the male gasps and touches his face, a horrified expression overtaking him when the skin under his fingertips burns to the touch.

“I didn’t forget! It must have rubbed off in the pool,” he mourns, “I must look stupid!”

“Only a little,” you tease, a grin overtaking your features. See, there’s something about the fact that you’ve known Eric for the entirety of your whole life that makes you more prone to teasing him– you’re familiar with your dynamics and just how far you can go, so his next actions startle you just the tiniest bit as the male looks sternly at you, throwing the half-eaten watermelon slice to the camping table. You thought you had the risks calculated– apparently, you didn't.

“What did you say?”

Examining his features, seeing no signs of anger– just the stoic, fakely-offended face of your brother’s childhood best friend– you shrug. “That you look a bit stupid with your face like that.”

“Oh, okay,” he nods, “you’re going down for that.”

“What do you mea–”

Your words are cut short when the male lunges at you, his arms enveloping your thighs and holding you up. The contact of his cold skin from the pool and your heated figure makes goosebumps appear all over your body, your hands instinctively reaching around him to support yourself as he walks closer to the pool– his intentions are suddenly painfully clear and you start to panic.

“This will teach you to respect your elders,” Eric huffs, the turquoise surface of the water slowly coming into your point of view.

“Stop! Stop-stop-stop,” you squirm, kicking your feet and trying to take down the predator, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, alright?”

The male takes a halt for a split second– making you foolishly believe he’ll let you off– before he breaks out into a devilish grin and continues to walk to the edge of the pool. “Too late.”

“Eric!” you scream, the volume of your voice resonating through the whole beach, your heart thumping wild against your ribcage with the awaiting process. You’re not even sure what you’re scared of anymore– you can swim and you bet the water will feel nice against the scorching sun– but still, you’re absolutely terrified as the male has no mercy on you, carrying you steadily towards the water. “At least let me tie my hair first! You can dump me in after, I promise,” you mourn, trying to buy yourself more time.

“Alright,” he nods, waiting at the very edge of the pool, leaving you to take the purple scrunchie off your wrist and gather your hair together, preparing to tie it into a bun so it doesn’t get in your way when you’re in the pool. The hair tie is just at the tips of your fingertips, the first loop over the hair ready to be done, when a scream cuts out of your throat.

The feeling of falling suddenly overtakes your body, leaving you no time to prepare yourself for the impact of the cold water against your skin and all up in your nose, since you didn’t pluck it when you were dumped into the pool. The fall only lasts a split second until you’re below the water, the force of it resonating in your ears, and when you finally act on your instincts and stand up in the pool (it wasn’t even that deep in the first place, only reaching to your upper stomach), you cough out all the water and pray to gods you don’t throw up chlorine into the freshly cleaned pool. After you’re done catching your breath and getting oxygen into your lungs again, you do your best at getting all the hair out of your face.

There is laughter landing into your ears as soon as you manage to get all the water out of them by leaning your head to the side and violently slapping each one, and when your eyes look up, you see an amused Eric Sohn bending over in his waist at your disheveled appearance.

Grunting and pointing a finger to the criminal that almost made you drown, you huff out. “I’ll kill you! Just you watch.”

Your scrunchie nowhere to be found, forever lost somewhere outside of the beach house, you think, as it flew off your hand in the impact of the attack, shock makes your figure shake alongside of the coldness of the water, making you audibly sigh.

Yes. You do regret coming along just a little.

JULY OF 1999

Somewhere along the way, Eric Sohn starts acting as if he’s your second older brother. Sure, you’ve known the male your whole entire life and he’s seen you grow up, but it took him 17 years of your life to come to a point where he gives you equal amount of attention whenever he’s over at your house than he does to your brother, and even asks Sunwoo if you’re coming along with them whenever they leave to hang out somewhere else. It’s a change that comes naturally and slowly, and you welcome it unknowingly– the revelation shocks you on a hot summer day, though, when the idea finally comes to you in full force.

You would even argue and say Eric acts more like your brother than your actual sibling does– he asks if you’ve eaten and listens to you when you talk (which Sunwoo never does, well, except from when he’s arguing with you). Eric even compliments your outfits sometimes and lets you borrow his MP3 player from time to time– Sunwoo would never share his things with you, no matter how hard you pleaded and threatened to tell your mum. Yes, your brother's an adult and you’re one year away from becoming one– you still resolve your conflicts through your only parent, though. Some things, you never grow out of.

“I wanna try using the skateboard now, Sunwoo,” you order sternly when the boy finally reaches your destination. You’ve been sitting on the sidewalk for quite some time now, since your brother and his friend decided that they’re gonna try out their new skateboards on the hottest day of the year. Your town doesn’t have fancy skateparks and ramps like the ones you’ve seen in the music videos on TV, so you don’t really know what initially made the two buy those things, but you do admit that even driving up and down the road in front of your house does seem a little fun– so much you’d love to try it.

“What a shame we all wish for things we can’t have,” he shrugs ironically, shaking his head at you from his position above. The male reaches down for his bag, taking out a water bottle and putting it against his plush lips, all while you glare at him from below, still seated in your initial position. Eric comes up to you two, squishing at the soft plastic bottle in Sunwoo’s hold, making the water splash your older brother in the face, leaving a winning grin to be shared between you and the shorter boy, an expression that makes you all warm on the inside. See, at least Eric always has your back.

“You can try mine, if you want,” the latter shrugs, offering you a smile.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “why not?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “I just didn’t expect you to offer, since as you saw, my dear brother just refused when I asked…” you mumble, standing up from the sidewalk and taking the skateboard into your hand. Eric offers it to you with an outstretched arm and watches as you put the board on the floor, squinting at it with much examination.

“Do you know how to ride it?” he asks.

“No,” you shake your head, “but I mean, if Sunwoo can do it, how hard can it really be?” you joke, seeing as the said boy glares at you, finally finishing his water and dropping the bottle to the ground.

“I’ll remind you of that statement when you eat shit on the pavement,” he shushes you, rolling his eyes.

Not paying more attention to the grumpy being that is your own brother, you relocate your attention back to the skateboard on the heated road. You’re lucky you live on a street where cars don’t often drive by, since your neighborhood is on the very edge of the town, so you don’t really fear being run over by a pickup truck. What you do worry about, though, is your lacking sense of balance, which you discovered when you learned how to ride the bike for the first time. While your brother was a professional in no time, it took you weeks to get it right, and so with the idea of riding a board that provides you zero sense of security, you get a bit worried for your own life.

Dragging your hair out of your face and aimlessly trying to tuck it behind your ears– there’s no use in trying though, as the strands slip out just as fast as they found their place– you keep staring at the board only a few centimeters away from your feet, mentally calculating your next move. There’s a noise of a backpack being opened and rustling around in the background of your miserable thoughts, and when you look up to see what’s going on, you notice Eric offering you a small, purple bundle of fabric.

“What’s that?” you ask, even though the answer is clear as the day– you recognise your own scrunchie with no problem. You’re just surprised to see it in his hold. You thought it was forever buried somewhere in the beach house, since you weren’t able to find it after you got out of the pool, no matter how hard you tried.

“Oh,” he shrugs, amidst a little too nonchalantly, “I found it and figured it was yours, but I forgot to give it back to you then… it seems like you need it now, though,” he offers you an explanation, lips pressed into a thin line that slightly signifies a smile.

“Ah,” you gasp, nodding as you take the hair tie out of his outstretched palm, gathering your hair into a bun and tying it up on the crown of your head– the staring contest you’ve been having with the board is much clearer now, when you don’t have your messy strands in the way. The idea of Eric keeping your scrunchie after finding it at the beach house makes your stomach do a weird kind of turn– you guess it made you a bit weirded out, if you’re being honest.

“Want some help with that?” he asks, pointing towards his skateboard.

Nervous, cracking your knuckles as you meet his eyes– he looks a bit amused, but still genuine– you nod, admitting defeat. There’s no way you’re getting on top of that board without help and not falling down. It’s always better to be safe than to be sorry, and so when Eric laughs airly at your composure and takes a few steps closer towards you, you let the male lead you, finding comfort in his secure words and actions.

Eric offers you his arms to hold when you try to get on the skateboard. He is peering at you from under his eyelashes when you put one of your legs onto the wood, his grip on your forearm getting firmer when you try to get your other foot on as well– and you must admit that you suddenly don’t feel like you might die anymore when there’s someone holding you and standing by your side.

“See? It’s not that hard,” Eric mumbles, his voice low and reassuring from the proximity. You notice your hands sweating a little when his palm envelopes yours– damn the sun and its unbearable heat making you embarrass yourself– but he doesn’t mention it as he firmly holds you and meets your eyes. “I’m gonna drag you around a bit so you get used to it before trying yourself,” he says before taking a few steps forward, preparing to be your own type of personal driver.

Having him instruct you and help you around makes you feel more comfortable on the board. Sunwoo would never do such a thing for you– he’d enjoy watching you fall down and break your neck and possibly die– so you’re more than happy to have someone in your life that takes care of you in ways your older brother refuses to.

The skateboard moves forward a little, starting slow, but then picking up speed as Eric jogs a little, making you laugh at the action. He does not have to go above and beyond, but he still does– but you guess it’s good for him to let out his energy somewhere. After a while, he looks back at you and meets your eye with a warm gaze, making you nod at him reassuringly and hold up a thumb of the hand he’s not holding right now, signaling that you’re okay and enjoying yourself. That has the male let go of your hand and let you take the road with the laws of physics, moving forward by yourself with the force he created.

It’s nice. It’s fun.

Yes, you totally understand why Eric and Sunwoo wanted skateboards after seeing them on TV. Hell, you want one now.

“Try it yourself now!” Eric encourages you as the board naturally comes to a stop under you, and his smiling face is enough for you to take initiative and nod, relocating one foot off the wood and placing it on the floor, then kicking it and making yourself move on the simple vehicle.

A moment of surprise envelopes you like a warm hug when you manage to not fall off and keep your balance, the joy of it making you try to go faster on the board, kicking once, twice against the pavement with the sole of your old, beaten up shoe. “I’m doing it!” you yell, glancing back at Eric standing on the sidewalk, watching you with excited eyes. The male offers you a victorious holler, something that makes you break into a laugh, makes your confidence blossom in marvelous ways.

Confidence rises in you so much you try to take a U-turn and go back to your teacher– perhaps showing off that you really got the hang of it now, or something– but as you try to maneuver the board and turn right, there it comes: the moment where you realize that you were, once again, too overly-confident in your abilities that are, sadly, very poor. Your body sways from side to side, your poor balance laughs at you and points an accusing finger at your attempts, and, well, to put it frankly, your whole life flashes in front of your eyes and the moment plays in slow motion as you lose the board from below your feet– the wood flying somewhere to the opposite side of the road, not at all where you meant to go in the first place– and your body inevitably comes crashing to the ground.

Awaiting the hard pavement meeting your nose and breaking it, you brace yourself with palms outstretched in front of you, the last remains of self-perseverance entering the sane parts of your brain in what you think are the last seconds of your miserable life. Another moment of surprise greets you when your yelp is muffled against something soft and your hands don’t hit the hard pavement, your ears filled with a grunt that belongs to another human swiftly chiming in and catching you before you fall.

Firm hands hold your waist– the touch somehow familiar, enveloping you in a strange sense of deja vu– and even though your body goes limp in terror, the male has you back on your feet in no time, his palms on the exposed skin of your stomach. The realization has you burning up as you look up and meet Eric’s eyes, gasping at the closeness of his face to yours.

“You okay over there?” he asks as you unconsciously study his face– you never noticed his nose looked this nice up close– before you wake out of it and nod urgently, breaking away from his hold. You’re not gonna try to calculate the effort he must have put in just to chime in and catch you from where he was standing in such a short moment, but something about the passing thought of it has you weak in your knees from gratefulness.

“Uhm- yeah,” you nod, kicking the pavement with your stained shoes, “I just… miscalculated my skills, that’s all,” you sheepishly hum, hearing the boy snicker at your shaken-up composure.

Watching him take off and retrieve his skateboard from where it wandered off against the curb– much to his golden retriever energy– you sigh and prepare to go sit back on the sidewalk, having enough of new experiences from the shock still lingering in your fingertips. You take a glance down the road, seeing your older brother cruising on the street– when and how he got there, you truly have no idea– when you hear Eric, who seemingly has different ideas for your next actions, call at you from the middle of the pavement.

“Where are you going? Come back!” he asks, having you look at him in surprise, mouth agape and eyes big, staring at him. He now has the board under his shoulder, but puts it back on the road and points at it, shrugging to himself. “I’ll push you down the road, it’s gonna be fun!”

“Eric, I’m literally going to die–”

“No, you’re not. Come on, I promise,” he says, but still, he doesn’t have you convinced. Your feet move against your best conclusions, though, and when you come to a halt right in front of your companion, he offers you a boyish grin. “Sit down on it, that way you’re more balanced. I swear you’re not gonna fall off, okay? I got you.”

“You promise?”

“Yes,” he nods, determined.

“Pinky swear,” you mumble, holding up your pinky finger– all thoughts of seeming childish pushed to the side in the desperate moment– and the male in front of you shakes his head in disbelief, breaking into a laugh.

“Cute,” he huffs, “yeah, okay. Pinky swear,” he nods, interlacing your pinky with his and bumping his thumb against yours, the seal foolishly making you feel more secure as you follow his order and take a seat on the skateboard, your hands gripping the bottom of the wood so hard your knuckles turn white.

“Okay, ready? 3, 2, 1–” he chants as he pushes you, two steady hands coming in contact with your shoulder blades, force making you move on the board, wheels taking you down with gravity. The sound of Eric’s shoes hitting the pavement fills your ears as you go faster, and as you finally get to the part of the hill that takes a downwards slope, he offers you a final push, sending you down the road.

Wind makes your hair fly back, your surroundings blurring as you yelp and scream, but you can’t say you’re not enjoying the ride. Eric was right– it was fun, you liked it, and something about the gesture had you all warm on the inside. The breeze has you cool down a little in the summer heat, and the board continues to move even as you pass your older brother standing at the bottom of the slope, away from your trajectory.

Body relaxing when the skateboard finally slows down, you let out a heartfelt laughter. Turning back and seeing Eric jog down the road with a humongous grin on his face, you offer him two thumbs up above your head, watching as he returns the gesture and makes his way back to the two of you on the bottom of the small hill.

The truth is, this was the day you realized Eric Sohn has always found his way to make you feel included and safe.

You can’t help but feel grateful.

AUGUST OF 1999

“Sunwoo, you have to tie a knot here and then– no, you dumbass, you’re doing it completely wrong,” you mourn as you watch your older brother with a mess of thread in his lap, a focused scowl on his face. There’s a fan standing across from you, blowing cold air into your face, but you still feel yourself grow heated with frustration as Sunwoo just can’t help but not understand the art of making friendship bracelets. It’s not like you’re forcing him to do them– he was the one that asked you to show him how to, muttering something about offering one to his classmate Yeji once he’s back in school– so in theory, he should be putting in effort, no?

Or maybe he is. Maybe he’s just… incompetent.

“I don’t get it,” Sunwoo hums under his breath, sighing as he leans against the sofa in your living room, the two of you sitting on the floor accompanied by his best friend squinting at you from the opposite side, a comic book in the latter's hand. The myth of men not being able to multi-task is quickly thrown into the bin as you watch Eric pay equal amount of attention to the comic book and the dialogue between you and your brother, and when Sunwoo seems to give up on the art of making friendship bracelets, his best friend can’t help but laugh.

“You’re giving up already? This is how you want to get a girlfriend?” you poke your brother to his side and take the threads off his lap, examining the mess of a safety pin and meters of yarn, all knotted up and not coming along in the shape you taught him to at all.

“It’s not to get a girlfriend, I just-”

“Sure,” you roll your eyes, huffing as you roll his poor attempt at friendship bracelet into a ball and throw it to the corner of the room, making a mental note to pick it up and throw it to the bin later. “You know what, just give her this one and pretend you made it,” you mutter, taking a bracelet you'd already made to demonstrate in between your fingers and throw it into Sunwoo’s lap, the older one catching it and examining it under his nose.

“That looks pretty good,” he hums, making you snort at his appreciative comment. The bracelet is pink and red, the colors just screaming romance and cute energy, which is exactly what a girl needs to be swayed by your brother. You can’t really believe a bracelet will make her swoop into his arms, because truthfully, with your brother’s face and manners, every living thing is keeping a fair distance, but hey, it doesn’t hurt to try, does it? Maybe his classmate is… majorly blind? That might do it?

“Of course it looks good,” you scoff, “that’s because I made it,” you nod, averting your gaze towards your lap, threading your fingers through the yarn you attached to a safety pin on your sweatpants to keep the growing friendship bracelet in place.

“Then why is the one you’re making right now so ugly?” Eric asks, pointing towards the creation.

Glancing up at the male slowly, mentally throwing all different kinds of curses at him for daring to talk badly about your craft, you huff. “What do you mean, ugly?”

“The colors… they don’t… they don’t really go together,” Eric sheepishly admits, scratching the back of his neck, quickly averting his gaze from you and gluing it back into his comic book. You think that if he doesn’t stop being a smart-ass and throw jabs at your artistic choices, he’s gonna have to protect his comic book with his own body– and you bet he’d do that, because he borrowed it from the library. The fees for damage are high.

“That’s just… not true at all,” you muse, but groggily take a look at the creation once again, but now, thanks to the remark, seeing it in a completely different way. Shades of orange, brown and purple stare back at you amidst a little disappointedly, and as you thread the yarn and make a couple of knots to end the bracelet, you can’t help but feel a pout growing on your face from the realization. Eric might be right. It does look a little bad…

“Whatever. Your taste is just bad,” you snap as you finish off the craft piece, unclasping the safety pin and sliding the bracelet off the inside, freeing it from the hold. Eric laughs a little at your frustrated state– similarly to what you do when you manage to get Sunwoo upset– and with that, you sigh and put the bracelet on the coffee table.

“I’m going out to the store to get some chocolates,” you say as you stand up, goal clear in your mind, “have fun, losers.”

“You’re still collecting the stickers from these?” Sunwoo asks, a mischievous smile growing on his lips. The teasing is inevitable and coming very soon, and there’s nothing you can do about it– you’re fully aware, which only further makes you want to escape the situation more quickly. Rolling your eyes at your brother’s antics, you move towards the door.

“Yes, Sunwoo, I am. They’re cute and make me happy, do you have a problem with that?” you point an accusing finger at the male, having him shrug, tongue poking the inside of his cheek.

“You’re such a kid,” he huffs, averting his gaze from you when he lands the comment, the jab coming straight at your fragile heart.

“Okay, then,” you note, “I’ll just have my pretty and cute bracelet back, and you can get your girlfriend something else-”

The male quickly regains his previous composure, swatting his hands in hurry just to make you halt in your sentence. His eyes are big and his mouth is a little agape in terror as he tries to save his ass, plea written all over his face. “I was just joking! Don’t be so petulant… go get your cute stickers, they’re so fun!”

Humming to yourself, your face is tugged up into a victorious smile. “That's what I thought. So, as I was saying, have fun, losers.”

“Wait!” Eric suddenly calls for you, making you turn on your heel in the middle of your escape, eyes peering at the male. “Don’t I get a bracelet too?”

The request catches you off guard. There’s a certain kind of spark in Eric Sohn’s eyes as he asks the question, and you can’t really place it in any category, but it has you nervously shrugging at the preposition. You’re not really sure why Eric would want a bracelet from you, but to avoid confrontation and also the weird leap of your heart surely leading you into cardiac arrest, you only shrug and move back inside of the living room, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you scan the surroundings, searching for something.

“Sure,” you nod, taking the ugly bracelet off the table and offering it to him, “you can have that one.”

You hold a staring contest with the older boy for a couple of seconds, his head undoubtedly swirling with arguments and comments about the apparel of the friendship bracelet, but he’s smart– he must know the survival of his beloved comic book must be at stake. So, he only nods and smiles at you, outstretching his hand to you and nudging his head in its direction.

“Okay,” he hums, “tie it for me?”

A second comes by– a heartbeat, really– in which you chew on your bottom lip and gasp at the request, but still, you nod and come closer, crouching down to be at his level and taking the thread into your fingers. You wrap the bracelet around his wrist, making sure to leave a bit of wiggle room before you tie a knot, bringing the ends together, all while feeling the eyes of Eric glued to your face, watching every micro expression flash through your unsettling composure.

When you’re done, making a move to hide your hands behind your back and standing up, your limbs bump into each other and send an unspoken sense of electricity all through your body. The sensation is so strange you don’t meet anyone’s eye before you leave the room, yelling out a goodbye as you hurriedly open the front door and run out to get fresh air (it’s August, though. The air is humid and only makes your head spin more).

You clear your throat before you take off to the grocery store. It's only when you're halfway there that you realize you'd forgotten to bring your wallet with you. It's okay, though– you take this chance to walk around, regaining your casualty.

You bet Eric will take the bracelet off in a matter of a week.

SEPTEMBER OF 1999

The leaves start turning orange and the weather a bit colder when you become hyper-aware of your shifting composure whenever Eric Sohn is around. The way you feel heat rushing to your cheeks whenever he calls you cutie, a nickname he’s had reserved for you since you two were little kids, the way you feel weak in your knees whenever he casually brings his arm around your shoulders or when he bends down to tie your shoelace in the middle of the sidewalk. You don’t really know what those sudden changes are, yet, you feel a bit embarrassed by them whenever they take place. You don’t think it’s normal to feel this way around your brother’s best friend, and the more you hang out with him, the more you wish you read less books as a child– because now, you’re also hyper-aware of the title those feelings may have.

Still, it only comes to you on one September afternoon– you wake up from blissful unawareness and jolt with the quickly opening pit in your stomach at the strange revelation.

“Eric! Sunwoo isn’t home, though?” you mumble, confused as you notice the boy standing on your doorway, a plastic bag in his hand and a red Nike jacket enveloping his frame.

“I know, he said he’s hanging out with Juyeon hyung today,” he nods, “I brought you something, though,” he says, holding up the bag and making sure you get a chance to see it, offering you a boyish grin.

“Oh?” you gasp, furrowing your eyebrows at the male. When you do nothing to invite him inside, he does so himself– slightly nudging you in your side as he passes your figure and enters your house. He acts like he owns the place, and by the amount of time he’s spent in your home, you’d think he does– he doesn’t, though. The only thing he owns is just a lot of audacity.

The male takes off his shoes in the entryway and walks his way over to your room– a surprising act, considering he’s spent the least amount of time in this very place– and when he’s sure you’re following his every move, he empties the contents of the bag to the middle of your freshly made bed. Watching as approximately ten items fall out of the plastic, your eyes widen with surprise as you recognise your favorite chocolate– the mini bars with stickers inside, the ones you collect and stick into your journal and look at in the middle of the night, giggling to yourself and kicking your feet at the adorable pictures in your make-shift collect book.

“Woah,” you gasp when the male looks at you, seemingly awaiting your response, and when he gets the wished outcome, pride overtakes his features, shrugging to himself.

“My mum got some for free because she bought a lot of cabbage for kimchi yesterday,” he explains, “I thought of you when I saw them, so I bought you some more.”

“I- you-” you stutter, emotions too big for your own good swelling all inside your fragile, little self, hands running into your hair and tugging at the roots to wake yourself up from the dream. “You didn’t have to!”

“We got them anyway, and I know you like the stickers,” Eric shrugs, scratching the back of his neck, completely ignoring the fact that he said he bought you some more, your heart skipping a beat at the sentiment. Clearing your throat, you tentatively take a step closer to your bed, gathering a bar of chocolate into your hand and opening it, taking a bite.

“You can have the stickers if you give me some chocolate,” Eric says close to your ear, almost as if he was creating a masterplan, to which you eagerly nod and plop onto your bed, moving the bars of sweets into one pile. As you continue to munch on the first one, you unwrap the sticker and look at it, praying to yourself as if you were checking if your lottery ticket was worth any cent– hoping you get a sticker you don’t own yet.

The image of a cute panda would cheer anyone up even in their darkest moments– not you, though, as you mourn and sigh, disappointment clear in your features.

“What?” Eric asks, eyes big pools of worry.

“I already got that one.”

“Ah,” he nods, seemingly understanding– much to your surprise, “well, we got 9 more tries, let’s get to eating.”

Wrappers are rustling in your bed sheets as you and Eric eat the concerning amount of chocolate, gathering the stickers in a little pile on top of your notebook, promising each other to not look at the stickers as you go and just make a grand reveal at the end. Eric’s full cheeks are a sight you enjoy, telling him he looks like a squirrel– to which he sends a light flick to your forehead, telling you you don’t look much different– and soon enough, the nine bars left disappear from your plain sight (you only had 3 and Eric ate the remaining 5. He’s a growing boy, though, so you understand. He needs to get his undying energy from somewhere.).

“Ready for the reveal?” you ask, locking your gaze with Eric.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

With that, you get to the pile of stickers in the middle of your bedsheets. Looking at the first one, there’s a happy squeal cutting out of your throat, the image of an adorable yellow duck warming you up with euphoria.

“You don’t have that one yet?”

“I don’t,” you nod, “this is just perfect.”

Eric nods and watches you with a certain kind of warmth in his gaze as you open up your notebook and stick the newest addition to your little sticker farm– or a ZOO, however you wanna call it. The next sticker from the pile is added as well– a brown, big bear– and the next one too, the most adorable colorful parrot slapped to the corner of your page.

The rest of your stickers are the ones you already own, though– a displeased look takes over your features at the knowledge, but still, you can’t help but beam at the fact that you have 3 new additions to your collection, and they were a gift from Eric Sohn himself. Someone who doesn’t make fun of your childish habit. Someone who feeds your little interest, watches you with excitement in his eyes as you indulge. Someone not like your brother.

Someone you could never see the way you see your brother.

“What do you do with the duplicates?” Eric asks, pointing to the sad pile on the top of your notebook. His figure is closer to you now, since he wanted to watch you stick the animals into your notebook, his crossed legs almost pressed against yours on the small bed.

“Well, usually, I just throw them out,” you shrug, “but since you’re here…” you muse, the idea plopping into your head like the newest discovery you should probably patent, peeling the back of one of the dog stickers off and swiftly turning towards your companion, mischief sparkling in your eyes.

You put the sticker on his left cheek, making the boy jump. “Hey!”

Giggling, taking another one of the stickers and pressing it to the middle of his forehead, Eric starts to fight you, your bodies wrestling on the bed. You don’t think he puts much effort into getting you off him– that, or he’s insanely weak– and in no time, his face is adorned with all different kinds of animals, his hair messy from tussling in your bedsheets. The image has you laughing before you realize you’re basically straddling him on your bed, his big eyes gaping at you from below, his appearance enough to make something in your brain short-circuit and make you leap off him, clearing your throat.

Heat rushes into your cheeks as you take a seat next to him, playing with your fingers. You pray for anything to come and ease the awkwardness you caused, and sure enough, today must be your lucky day. “Hey, look here!”

You call for the boy as you swiftly take your polaroid camera off your bedside table– the one that belonged to your dad, the one you fought with Sunwoo about, the one your mum said was yours because Sunwoo is too careless with his things to keep it safe– and snap a picture of the puppy-like boy, laughing at the fact that now, you have the image of him looking dumb and covered in stickers forever. Or at least until he doesn't take it away from you– which he attempts quickly.

“Hey!” he yelps again, huffing as he lunges at you, trying to take the picture out of your grasp as you drop the camera into your soft sheets. Your feet take you to the living room, navigating through furniture, and when you don’t hear footsteps follow you, you think you’re safe– Eric does have a lot of energy, but chasing you around gets tiring for him quickly when he knows you'll never let him win.

Entering your room once again, prepared to find him on your bed like before, you’re taken by surprise as a shutter sound goes off right after you open the door, a polaroid picture taken of your face making you temporarily blind at the flash.

“Eric!” you whine, hating that there’s a picture of you standing shocked at your doorway now forever in the universe– not really caring that the boy just got you back with the exact stunt you pulled on him just a few minutes ago. Before you get a chance to blink out the blind spots in your vision caused by the flash and run after him, though, you feel him gently press you out of the doorway and slip outside, the sound of the front door opening and closing after him resonating along his slowly disappearing, amused laughter.

Serves you right, doesn’t it?

Sighing, you shake your head and take a seat on your bed, the picture of the boy still in between your fingertips. You only take a look at it when your vision comes back to normal, and as the image of Eric covered in stickers, hair messy and cheeks rosy below the animal print comes into your sight, the revelation arrives the same second a starstruck smile plays with your features.

And with that, you’re absolutely terrified.

Throwing the polaroid picture onto the bedside table and lunging yourself into the sheets, you scream into your pillow and wish for the feelings to disappear– because in what world does a crush on your brother’s best friend ever come to a happy ending?

OCTOBER OF 1999

Once October hits, you find yourself home alone more often than you’d like. Sure, you don’t mind having some me time to read comic books or watch the TV uninterrupted in the living room, but still– alone turns lonely pretty quickly, and somehow, you start to regret the fact that you’ve been relying on your older brother and his friends for so long instead of making some connections on your own.

Sunwoo started to play soccer at school– something is telling you that he might go far if he keeps it up– and that’s why he’s been stuck at practice every single day, coming home late in the evening all tired, but happy, so you’re not really complaining. Eric works in the little bistro downtown now, since he wanted to make some money and not rely on the allowance Mrs. Sohn gives him every month, and it’s not like you were that close to begin with, but the fact that the boy is now too busy to meet you is making your spirit fall just the tiniest bit. And with your mother always being at work, you find yourself alone in your room, laying in your bed and staring at the ceiling.

Sometimes, you journal. About anything and everything, really. You don’t really think you’re ever gonna read back the entries once you’re older, since they would just be a reminder of how miserable and boring your teenage years really were, and that’s why you allow yourself to be authentic. On most days, you write about your assignments for school. Sometimes you bad mouth a classmate or two– gossiping with the diary pages, because you don’t really have any human beings to do so in real life– and seldom, you allow yourself to get into topics that evoke the slightest bits of existential crisis in you.

Topics like college. Growing up. Your lack of hobbies and social interaction with the outer world. The newly found crush on Eric Sohn…

Okay, maybe you do write about the boy with brown hair and dark eyes a little too often. You can’t help it, though– when he’s not giving you any new interactions to dwell on, you have to just pick apart the old ones. You think it’s a natural reaction.

And that’s exactly what you’re doing one October afternoon, the lamp in your room on, since the evening comes faster when the weather is colder, as you’re laying in your bed and kicking your feet back and forth, chewing on the end of your pencil. The sound of your doorbell resonates through the house suddenly and startles you, making you jump awake from your delirious delusions.

Mentally going through the list of possible visitors you could have– because it can’t be your mother or your brother, since they never forget to carry their house keys– you’re lost, not really finding any fitting candidates. Furrowing your brows, lost in thought and frankly, a bit confused, you plant your socked feet onto the wooden floor and walk over to the front door just in time for the bell to ring again. Scratching the back of your neck in nerves, thinking of precautions you could take for your own safety– since your front door doesn’t have a peep hole and you don’t want to open the door to a complete stranger– you clear your throat and yell over the door.

“Who is it?” you ask.

“Delivery!” a voice calls through the door, making you huff.

“I didn’t order any food?” you yell back, confused. “Sir, there’s another house behind ours, sometimes the mailmen get confused and we get their mail. Maybe try there?”

“The address is right, though?” the voice calls again, and somehow, it sounds kind of familiar… no, it can’t be, you dumb goose. You’re just imagining things because you’ve spent the last 20 minutes writing about the curve of his nose into your diary.

“There must be a mistake-”

“Come on, Y/N, open the door,” the voice on the other side mourns, the mention of your name making you jump, completely startled. The tone the man says it in is sweet like honey, though, so familiar in your ears, that you mentally want to slap yourself– so you weren’t dreaming. It is him.

Dragging your hand through your hair to smooth it down, praying you look at least a little presentable– although in your stained sweatpants and the Pokémon shirt you inherited from Sunwoo when he grew out of it, you doubt that’s even possible– you open the door and try to offer Eric a warm smile. “What are you doing here?”

“Food delivery,” Eric shrugs, pointing with his thumb in the direction behind his back, where his bike undoubtedly stands up against your gate.

“Oh…. but I already told you I didn’t order anything,” you mumble, confused. Studying his face– because a girl can indulge when she has the opportunity, am I right? – you notice his hair has grown a little longer, falling into his eyes. You bet it’s hard for him to see, but you must admit it looks nice, and you almost tell him, before you catch yourself and break away from the sentiment.

The male snickers. “I know, I was just joking,” he says, “I did bring you food, though.”

“Why?” you ask, confused when he bends over and picks up a plastic bag off the ground, a container of food inside, the warmth of the contents making condensation appear all over the red sack.

“We made this by mistake and it was just gonna be thrown out if nobody took it,” he shrugs, “and I figured you haven’t eaten yet– or if you did, you just had those cold kimbap rolls from the store– and I wanted to get some warm food into your stomach.”

“Ah,” you gasp, nodding at the explanation. It does explain the source of the food really well, but truthfully, it explains nothing about the fact why Eric thought of bringing you the food instead of taking it home with himself– he’s a foodie if you’ve ever seen one. The idea of him worrying about if you were fed or not is equally as strange and interesting in your head– still, you clasp your hand around the bag and take it, the smell making you involuntarily hungry. “Thank you.”

Eric only nods at you, a smile beaming at his face. “Well,” he sighs, “I’d love to stay longer and hang out, but I’m still on the clock, so…” he mumbles, taking a hesitant step backwards towards his bike, eyes never breaking contact with yours.

“Oh, right,” you nod, “that’s okay. Have a fun day at work!” you muse, watching him as he grins and finally retrieves back his bike, opening up the gate to your property and escaping, waving at you as he gets on.

“I’ll see you soon!” he calls as he rides off, your eyes following him until his figure disappears behind a corner, your ears buzzing with excitement and your lower lip trapped between your teeth with the innocent promise.

Walking back into the house, you grin as you close the front door behind you and carry the food into the kitchen. You quickly get the containers out of the damp bag, putting them onto the wooden table, and gasp when you find a sticky note on the very top one, a messy handwriting scribbled in a rush, but stuck to the food with care.

Eat well and don’t skip meals, Y/N-ie!! – Eric x

Not being able to battle your smile anymore, you decide to open up the containers and stuff your mouth with the food instead– only to find your favorite dish inside, staring back at you in what seems to be a dream that’s too good to wake up from.

And sure, you are delusional, but are you delusional enough to believe that this wasn’t all a coincidence? You’re not so sure.

Still, you eat the food with feet kicking back and forth as you sit in the silent kitchen, the empty house no longer feeling so lonely. When you’re done, you throw the trash out– everything but the sticky note, which you glue into your diary a few minutes later, hoping to keep the memory forever.

NOVEMBER OF 1999

The world around you is dark as you step outside of cram school, your eyes are tired and your skin is prickled with goosebumps in the chilly air. You despise going to cram school, but your mother told you you have to– since you didn’t have any athletic features that could get you far in life like Sunwoo, you had to be good at studying, or else you won’t get into university. There was a lot of work ahead of you, but since you didn’t really have anything else to do in the day, you didn’t protest and went anyway.

The days are usually very long and you get off very late, resulting in you being tired almost all the time. When you get home, you undress yourself and change into your sleep clothes and doze off until the morning, when you have to wake up and go to school again– it’s an exhausting cycle, but you know you have to endure it for your own sake.

Walking down the steps that lead out the cram school building, you stretch your body and huff, cursing at yourself for the fact that you didn’t bring a jacket– you forgot that evenings get really chilly, and frankly speaking, you didn’t have much time to think when you were rushing to get ready in the morning. You’ll just have to get through it, you think to yourself as you walk in the direction of your house– the last bus to your neighborhood already left an hour ago, when you were in the middle of revising division– your sneakers kicking the stray rocks below your feet as you tug the sleeves of your hoodie lower, desperately trying to feel more heat.

“Do you never watch where you’re going? That’s gonna get you in trouble one day, you know,” you hear a familiar voice say, the joking tone making your heart skip a few beats as you place the owner of the saccharine voice to its face. Looking up, slightly alarmed at being caught in such a distressed state, you gasp.

“I was… watching my step, I guess,” you shrug as you come into a halt in front of him, shivering both under Eric’s gaze and the cold weather at once. “What are you doing here? Deliveries?”

“I just got off,” he says, “so I figured I could stop by. Sunwoo said you’re going to cram school, I thought you might enjoy some company on your way home.”

Gaping at his explanation, you nod, completely startled. The idea of your brother talking about you in front of Eric, the boy you have a very embarrassing, very big crush on scares you, to say the least. See, it doesn’t really matter that the boy grew up with you, pretty much seeing you at your lowest whenever he was around over at your house when you were both just little kids– the image of Sunwoo telling Eric about finding you sobbing at your comic book (the scene got too sad, nobody can really blame you) or about how your favorite jeans ripped right before you had to go to school one morning is terrifying. You don’t really want him to know about these things. He may act like your brother sometimes, but you never really saw him in that light in the first place.

“Well, then,” you clear your throat, “it’s… it’s good to see you,” you say. Eric shows you his boyish grin as your lips utter out the words, and you can’t help but mirror it, your eyes locking with the male. As if you just took a step back, your eyes see him in a light you’ve never seen him before– as if this was your first time meeting your brother’s best friend– and something about the sentiment has your stomach feeling all uneasy, heat rushing to your face. His hair is styled in a way that tells you that he didn’t really style it (or if he did, it looked truly effortless in your eyes, so props to him), pushed back a little and revealing his forehead, a few of the strands carelessly falling into his eyes. His jawline is sharper than how it was when you first met the boy, and with the realization of a foolish teenage girl, you have to admit that Eric Sohn grew up to be a very attractive, attentive man.

“You’re cold?” he says, although the sentence sounds more like a statement rather than a question, before he shakes his head at your antics and heaves out a sigh. “You should’ve taken a jacket with you when you went, you know it gets cold in the evening,” he scolds you. In those times, he reminds you the most of your brother– because although you and Sunwoo act like you hate each other sometimes, you know the older male still cares about you. He just hates showing it, which translates in his scolding tone whenever you do something wrong or against his wishes.

In those times, Eric reminds you the most of the way your brother treats you, and you somehow hate it. You despise the fact, because that means he must only see you as someone like his younger sister– he never had one, so maybe he just likes to compensate for it by taking care of you all the time. Maybe he feels responsible to do so because of Sunwoo. The thought makes you equally as nauseous– you’d never want him to hang out with you just because he feels like he has to.

“I didn’t have time in the morning,” you grunt, rolling your eyes at him. You avert your gaze from the male, for it makes you slightly uncomfortable after your previous thoughts, so when the noise of a zipper being pulled down and the weight of fabric on your shoulders brings you back to reality, you snap your head around at him all alarmed.

“What? Wear it,” he says, head shrugging towards the direction of his jacket on your figure. “You’re gonna catch a cold if you don’t.”

Trying to wrestle out of the red material, you squirm in the hold of the windbreaker– Eric’s hands gripping each side of the jacket, as if predicting your next moves, making sure it stays on you and doesn’t fall down. His strong arms tug you closer to him to make your fight more difficult– and he’s successful with his efforts, because the proximity of him and his smell engulfs you and unarms you, heat rushing to your cheeks as you halt in your movements.

“Stop,” you mourn, “I don’t need it.”

“Yes you do,” he insists, “so stop being a baby about it and wear it.”

Staring into his eyes, as if to mentally tell him to stop what he’s doing– to stop how he’s treating you, how he’s making you all weak in your knees and sleepless at nights because of how much you think of him and hope he’s doing well each day, to stop being so gentle with you and taking care of you, because it brings all sorts of both doubts and delusions into your head– but he doesn’t back down. You’ve known him for quite some time, you should already be aware of just how stubborn he can be.

“Arms in,” he hums, holding on to the jacket and waiting for you to wear it properly. One thing about you– you can always admit your defeat. So, with a sigh, you put your arms through the sleeves of Eric’s red windbreaker, shrinking a little under his firm gaze. He looks at you with a look full of something you can’t decipher, and it’s all making you so, so insanely lost in the many thoughts and feelings swirling around your head, not helping your current state.

“I already have a brother, y’know,” you mumble in a moment of weakness, looking at your feet– your dirty white sneakers almost touching his from how close you are standing right now, “so you should stop treating me like one.”

A moment of silence overtakes you two, and you suddenly feel like you’ve done something wrong. Still, Eric’s hands are holding on to the sides of the opened jacket, keeping you close to him. “Hm?”

Clearing your throat and shaking your head, you snicker to yourself. “Forget it.”

“No- I mean,” he blurts out, tone of voice a little nervous, “do you see me as your brother figure?” he asks, tone of voice more quiet now, more gentle.

Breathing in the crispy air, taking a moment before you reply, you shake your head in disapproval. “No,” you say, “no, I don’t. I- I don’t think I do,” you say, scared of what your answer will bring out of him. You don’t really know why, but at this moment, you feel insanely fragile– as if any bad move could make you break in his hands, waiting for him to glue you back together.

Metaphorically, he does just that. “Good,” he nods, leaning down towards you, hands gripping the zipper of his jacket and zipping it together, making sure no cold can get to your bones as his fingers tug it up towards the very top, under your chin. “Because I’ve never seen you as my sister either.”

His answer once again startles you– but when you take a step back from the situation, you think it was in a good way. His hands grip your shoulders for a second as his eyes meet yours and he offers you a warm smile. “Come on, let’s get you home,” he says, tugging you towards the fence where you find his bike, his motions guiding you like a rag doll sucked out of all life.

“Hop in,” he motions towards the back of the bike, where the basket would usually be– Eric moved it towards the front, though, leaving enough room for you to sit at– and as you do, he takes a seat in front of you and looks back at you over his shoulder. “Hold on tight so you don’t fall.”

Like in a trance, your arms sneak around his middle– this was the first time you had this kind of physical touch with him, and just the thought of it makes you want to scream your throat out– before the male takes off on the bike, riding towards your neighborhood. With the cold wind slapping your face, you foolishly rest your cheek on his shoulder blade and close your eyes, enjoying the closeness of his body keeping you warm.

If anyone asked you about the action, you’d tell them you were just tired.

DECEMBER OF 1999

Socked feet make their way through the room, the sound of footsteps resonating on the laminated floor, as the short male comes up to you with a bowl of potato chips in his right hand and a bottle of soda under his left arm. Eric Sohn sighs at you, shaking his head in disbelief, before he places the items onto the coffee table and takes a seat next to you on the floor, opening up the bottle and pouring the three of you drinks.

“Can’t believe I’m spending New Year’s Eve with you losers, of all people,” Eric snickers, having you roll your eyes at the male and grumpily furrow your eyebrows at his sentence.

“No one’s stopping you if you wanna go, y’know,” you grunt as you take the filled glass off the table, taking a sip of the sweet drink and sighing at him. If he’s gonna take a leap into the new year with you while making you annoyed, he may as well leave now and do whatever his initial plan was– once again, no one’s stopping him if that’s what he wants to do.

“I’m just saying,” he shrugs, “it would’ve been so much more fun if we all went to Juyeon hyung’s. Everyone’s there celebrating, but we’re stuck here in your room.”

“Well, Eric,” your brother smiles ironically at him, shrugging to himself, “it’s not like it’s my fault you’re not over at Juyeon hyung’s right now. You chose to spend the new years here with me. My mother prohibited me from going there, not yours.”

The argument has the male shrug, his eyes averting your brother’s gaze once his comment gets a bit too honest and realistic. It’s true and he’s right– it’s not like Eric’s mum told him he can’t go celebrate with his friends, because she didn’t. Eric’s mum trusts him and wants him to have fun and do what all the kids his age are doing. Your mum, on the other hand, is making you and Sunwoo stay home for New Year’s Eve to celebrate with your family, because, as she quoted, New Year’s Eve the only time she gets time off work, and she wants to spend it with her kids– forget the fact that you’re currently sitting locked in your room with your friend, protesting the family time just because you can– and when Sunwoo told her she has to stop treating him like a little kid, she told him she has all the right to do so, because he is her kid. And that’s how the party he was supposed to attend with Eric (the party you foolishly thought you’re gonna have to tag along to, not hating the sentiment as much as before now) got canceled from your brother’s plans.

“Well,” Eric chews on the inside of his cheek, “I did it for you two. Be grateful.”

“Whatever,” you hum, “let’s turn on the TV. I bet there’s some variety show on.”

Eric heaves out a sigh as he reaches for the TV remote, clicking the power button and making the boxy device in front of you light up. Your mum got you a TV in your room when you complained about being too bored one November day, and although the box of entertainment didn’t really help like you imagined it to, you’re glad it’s of service at least today. Instead of the expected variety show, though, there’s news on– the face of the old announcer looking at you with a serious look on his face, the professional tone making chills run down your spine, for he reminds you a bit of your mother when she scolds you. You think that’s a common news announcer trait.

“As the year 2000 approaches, computer programmers realize that computers might not interpret the 00 in the software as 2000, but 1900. The softwares currently running only use a two-digit code for the year, excluding the 19. The data was excluded because the data storage is costly and takes up too much space. Activities that were planned on a daily basis could be damaged or flawed,” the announcer says, making the three of you look at the screen with interest. Maybe it’s true that when you get older, you get more interested in news– you think it’s good to know what’s going on around you, although the topic discussed right now might not even concern you in the slightest.

“Banks, which calculate the interest rates on a daily basis, could face real problems. Interest rates are the amount of money a lender, such as a bank, charges a customer, such as an individual or business, for a loan. Instead of the rate of interest for one day, the computer could calculate a rate of interest for minus almost 100 years!”

“Oops,” Eric lets out next to you, a reaction so far away from what a real adult would think of the situation. See, you are all just kids, after all.

“Centers of technology, such as power plants, are also threatened by this issue. Power plants depend on routine computer maintenance for safety checks, such as water pressure or radiation levels. Not having the correct date could throw off these calculations and possibly put nearby residents at risk,” the announcer continues, the information coming out of his mouth suddenly making you hyper aware of the reality you’re experiencing right now.

“Do we have a nuclear power plant nearby?” you ask in a hushed whisper, watching as the men next to you almost comically widen their eyes, shrugging.

“I’m not sure,” Sunwoo peeps.

“The worst of all, this software and hardware issue could cause such a big problem in nuclear energy facilities, where nuclear bombs and missiles could be set off, causing the world to go into utter chaos, or worse, an end,” the announcer concludes, the last word making you gasp in terror.

“An end?” you chirp, sitting up straight in your seat as you look at the two men, now equally as terrified. There’s something in Sunwoo’s gaze that makes chills run down your spine, the reality crushing down on you with heavy measures.

“I knew I shouldn’t have fought with mum. What if the last words the two of us exchanged before we die are the harsh words I had said yesterday?” your brother mourns, seeing as his best friend chews on his bottom lip, lost in thought.

“What did you say to your mum?”

“That- that I’ll never forgive her for ruining this for me,” he mumbles, his voice breaking at the end, “and… other things,” he adds, the hint of incoming panic making his best friend frantically wave his hands around and try to make your brother relax before he has to deal with the breakdown. If the world is ending, this is not how any of you want to go.

“It’s okay, don’t worry,” Eric says, clearing his throat and pointing to the TV, “look! The show is on, we should watch before the year ends,” he proposes, taking the remote into his hand and turning the volume up to hopefully drown out Sunwoo’s thoughts and have him focus on something else. And it works– noting that your brother has an attention span of a 5 year old– he can hardly remember what he was worrying about just 30 seconds ago.

Still, the thought keeps bouncing around your head like a child in a bouncy castle. The words of the news anchor keep repeating in your brain, making your ears ring as you look at Eric from the corner of your eye, watching his angelic face. Oh how you hate disturbing the peace now that you’ve all calmed down– but still, you can’t deal with the worries alone. Checking the clock hung above the TV, noticing there’s at least 5 minutes left before midnight, you clear your throat, feeling your whole body on fire.

“Do you really think the world is gonna end?” you ask, cracking your knuckles in a nervous manner. Looking at Eric, pupils shaking, you find your brother’s best friend seemingly lost in thought. The music of the variety show program serves you three as a background sound now, none of you paying attention to the TV anymore, instead, focusing on all the things you've done wrong in your life and how somehow, this feels like karma for all of it.

“I dunno,” Sunwoo shrugs, “I mean- they said it’s possible! It was on the news, and they wouldn’t lie on the news…” he nervously mumbles, scratching the back of his head.

“That’s what’s worrying me,” you sigh, “we shouldn’t have turned on the TV.”

“It was your idea in the first place!”

“And I’ll carry the burden into my grave,” you admit, gulping as you press a forced smile onto your lips.

Momentarily looking back at the TV, you desperately want to keep the thought of the world being over out of your head before you spend your last minutes on this earth going crazy– but now that you started, you can’t keep thinking about it. “Man, the world can’t end yet. There’s so many things I haven’t tried yet! I’m too young to die!”

The men don't reply to that– you presume they’re too busy trying to find other things to occupy themselves with instead of the inevitable– which has you dissatisfied as you throw your body back into the sofa, heaving out a sigh. Seconds go by painfully slow but also painfully fast at the same time, given the circumstances, as you listen to the cheerful song playing in the background and nudge your friend into his upper arm with your pointer finger, feeling his arm encircle your shoulders and pull you closer to him. The contact of his fingers on your upper arm makes you squirm and break out into a smile, feeling a particular lightness in your stomach at the action, a sensation that has you in shock.

“I’m gonna talk with mum before we die,” Sunwoo suddenly calls as he stands up from his seat on the floor, sighing to himself, “I can’t go with the thought of her being upset with me,” he sentimentally adds before he’s out of the door, rushing towards the living room.

The space falls into momentary silence now that your brother is gone, having you chew on your bottom lip with nerves. You think now is the time to beg for forgiveness with the higher forces– I'm sorry for not studying well. I'm sorry for being rude and ungrateful towards my mum. I'm sorry for being greedy– when the sound of Eric’s voice resonates through the place as he speaks up again, waking you up from the anxious slumber, the clock now striking 2 minutes before midnight. “What would you wanna do before you die?” he asks.

The question is simple. You presume he wants simple answers– things like getting into college, getting a good job and making a lot of money, growing old– but as you lean away from him and get back to your place on his left, your eyes locked with his, you’re left clueless. There are so many things you have yet to achieve, and the idea of not being able to pushes a burden to your chest, but at this very moment, you can’t really name one.

Shrugging, you chew on the inside of your cheek as your eyes scan his face. His firm eye contact has you a bit flustered, making you shrivel in your seat, and as the sound of the TV morphs from the song into a countdown from 55, you’re overwhelmed with the thought that your friend is insanely pretty– and he always has been, you just hated admitting it to yourself for the past few months, despite still being fully aware– and that now, when the world ends, you’re dying unkissed and alone.

Well, not completely alone, since Eric’s here. And he’s always been here– your whole life, since you can remember, and he’s here now as well, even though he should’ve been at Juyeon’s house. As the clock strikes 30 seconds away from midnight, your eyes involuntarily travel down to his chapped lips, all air knocked out of your lungs, the thoughts in your brain picking up on speed the closer you come to the end.

You’re dying soon. You’re dying in 30- now 29 seconds, and you’ve never kissed anyone before. You’re dying before you get a chance to hold hands with someone and have a partner, and you’re dying before you get a chance to tell Eric how you feel about him. There’s 28 seconds left until the end and you’re just staring at him like a coward, because you don’t really let yourself indulge in the silly warmth of your heart whenever you’re around your friend, but god, you can at least admit it to yourself before you die.

And as the clock gets closer and closer to midnight, now only giving you 20 seconds before it all ends and a missile lands on the top of your house, blowing up the whole town and making you all disappear, Eric’s question repeats itself in your brain. What would you want to do before you die?

The answer is suddenly painfully clear as you take action– leaning towards the boy on your right, face closer to his than it’s ever been before, your eyes counting all his eyelashes and focusing on his surprised, yet unmoving face– and as you hear the countdown reach 15, you close your eyes and press your lips against his.

The contact makes you weak in your knees as your hands reach to his face to steady him, your own firework show erupting in your stomach, and suddenly you’re completely content with dying tonight– because at least you’re with Eric, at least you did something. You kiss your friend with something close to an unsaid confession, your lips staying on his throughout the rest of the countdown, the taste of soda you’ve both been drinking the whole evening mixing in the contact of your skin. You’re not sure you’re even doing this right– again, you’ve never kissed anyone before– but it doesn’t matter to you much as you let go of your worries, aware of the fact that in a few seconds, nothing will matter anymore when neither of you are going to be around to say anything to each other after the kiss is over.

The countdown rings in your ears– coming down from 5 as you scoot yourself closer to Eric, 4 as you run the pads of your thumbs along his cheekbones, 3 as you still in your movements, 2 as you notice your knees bumping into each other on the ground and finally, 1 as you get ready to die, kissing your first and only love– when the sound of cheers and fireworks from the TV fills your ears instead, the world around you stilling and completely unchanged.

Your kiss started in 1999 and ended in 2000. Your love for him passed a century.

Eyes fluttering open and your mouth letting go of his, the image of the boy with his lips slightly parted, eyes closed and cheeks rosy comes to you in the yellow light of your room, making your heart fall down to your stomach. He looks absolutely angelic, his hair slightly messy and the fabric of his shirt a little disheveled in the front, and even though you’d love to indulge in your foolish desires and kiss him some more, you’re quickly taken aback with the noise of the door to your room opening and making you jump away from Eric, your brother appearing out of thin air in the presence of your room. It serves you like a weird kind of reality check, Eric’s eyes opening and looking at your brother, and even though you two haven’t been caught, the male clears his throat and bites down on his lower lip, looking almost guilty.

Oh no. What have you done?

Suddenly, you feel insanely silly.

JANUARY OF 2000

“You’ve been awfully quiet the whole day,” Sunwoo mumbles from beside you, his whole body engulfed in a pile of snow, “not that I care, but are you okay?”

“I thought you liked it when I don’t talk,” you mutter, playing with the frozen white all around you, seated on the red plastic sled at the top of the hill. You got tired after dragging it up from the bottom, and when you noticed that the rest of Sunwoo’s friends– Eric included– are still on their way up, you figured you could use up the time to relax and sit around for a while. It’s been quite some time since all of Sunwoo’s friends gathered to hang out at the same time, which made you surprised to see that your own brother invited you to tag along with them as they decided to go sledding on the second day of January, using up their break to best of their abilities. Which is also why you didn’t say no to the invitation– you thought sitting at home and moping around wouldn’t help you much.

“I do,” he says, nodding, “that’s why I’m asking what’s up– so I know what to do when I need to shut you up later,” Sunwoo hums, making you roll your eyes at the masked worry.

Shaking your head in disbelief, you scoff. “It’s nothing.”

“Sure,” he shrugs, “so you’re just going through puberty?” he teases, to which you take a handful of snow into your palm and lunge the white at him, satisfaction running through your veins when the snowball lands into his unsuspecting face, the male coughing and swatting his arms around to defend himself.

“Hey!” your brother screams at you once he gets the ice out of his eyes and his mouth, his body jumping into a standing position before he chases you around, the bubble of a laugh escaping your throat for the first time these days– they’re not wrong when they say malicious joy is the best kind of joy.

Running at the top of the hill, not really looking where you’re going– instead looking over your shoulder to see Sunwoo’s actions, preparing yourself to duck if he decides to turn your small quarrel into a snow fight– your legs get tangled with the red sled you left before you started a war with the angered man, a yelp cutting out of your throat as you get prepared to fall over and knock your teeth out.

Your body comes in contact with something half-firm, half-soft, and as your feet slip and the snow-covered ground disappears from below your legs, two arms wrap around your waist and steady you, making sure you don’t get hurt.

Turns out Eric Sohn is there to catch you every time you are about to eat shit. You hate this kind of deja vu.

As you open your eyes (that you had closed on instinct, not wanting to see your own death) once you’re sure you’re safe and sound, the world around you invites itself into your ears in an overwhelming noise. The laughter of Sunwoo’s friends– some hollering at your fall, some at the redness and last remains of snow covering your brother’s face– and the hushed arguments over who’s going down first– with Haknyeon screaming that he’s stealing Sunwoo’s (yours) sled and Juyeon following him. After all those happening in the matter of a few seconds, you realize you’re left on the top of the hill alone with the male, terror shaking through your insides.

Clearing your throat and taking a step back from him, you tuck your hands into your pockets and avert your gaze from Eric. You two haven’t spoken since you decided to kiss him on New Year’s Eve, and with the awkward tension in the air, you don’t feel like doing so ever again in your whole entire life.

“Thanks,” still, you hum.

Eric seems a little more light-hearted than you, shrugging as he replies to you. “Haven’t I told you to start watching where you’re going?”

“I’m not good with listening sometimes,” you mutter, huffing. Taking a look around yourself– noticing that there are no sleds left on the top of the hill, therefore, if you wanted to escape the situation, the only way down would be to roll around like a human version of a snowman, you once again admit your defeat, standing around nervously and shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

The silence is uncomfortable. It makes you want to dig a hole in the snow and bury yourself alive, to suffocate under the weight of the icy cold and never see Eric’s face again. You know that you ruined whatever friendship you had with the male– by being stupid and foolish, not really thinking about consequences (because there were supposed to be none and you were supposed to be dead), and the weight of the guilt makes you want to puke and hide away.

Still, Eric comes out of his way to talk to you. Honestly, you’re kind of surprised– he should be disgusted with you. Realistically, he should be the one avoiding you, not the other way around.“They’re gonna take long to walk back up,” he notes, “wanna get hot chocolate with me?”

“I’m good, thanks,” you shake your head, not once breaking eye contact with the overwhelming white of the hill.

“Come on,” he sighs, “it’s just around the corner. They built a hot chocolate stand because they knew kids would come sledding here. Honestly, it’s an astute business tactic, but I promise the hot chocolate actually tastes nice,” he says, nudging you slightly with his arm, as if to make you look at him and change your mind.

“Thanks, but no,” you definitely say, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“Are you avoiding me?” he asks, tone of voice casual– as if it was the most normal thing in the world, as if nothing ever happened and he was genuinely curious about the reasoning behind your actions.

“I’m not, I just don’t really like hot chocolate,” you sheepishly mutter, trying hard to avoid the topic.

“So you are avoiding me,” he hums, as if it wasn’t obvious before– and not only because you’re a bad liar. Plus, you love hot chocolate. Somehow, you think Eric knows.

“Look, Eric,” you sigh, running your hand through your hair, “can’t you just drop it?”

“No,” he shrugs, shaking his head, “and that’s why we’re talking about the reason why you’re avoiding me over a cup of hot chocolate. Let’s go.”

His persistence is terribly overwhelming sometimes. You wonder how the male does it. “I already told you-”

“You owe me for the stickers and the meal and everything,” he corners you, and you know you can’t argue with that. He’s kind of right, you suppose– you never paid him back for all the chocolates or for the free meal he brought you that one evening. And that’s exactly why you find yourself sighing as you follow him, mentally preparing yourself for the talk.

You hate how he can always get his way. Walking up to the stand, you crack your knuckles in the pocket of your jacket, nervously coming up with possible arguments to tell him. I didn’t kiss you on purpose, it was an accident. I only did it to know how it feels. We are both supposed to be dead, it’s not my fault the world didn’t end like it was supposed to! Each sentence sounds more stupid than the previous one, and so with that, you shake your head, wiping the thoughts away, smiling at the elderly lady in the stand. You’re just gonna have to be honest, you figure.

“Two hot chocolates, please.”

Rummaging through your pockets to find your wallet– you do owe Eric, so it’s only natural for you to pay– you’re caught off guard as the male next to you swiftly takes out his own and unzips it, preparing to pay for you.

“I thought I owed you?” you mumble, hand reaching to tug at his forearm to stop him, to which Eric only grins at you and sighs.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you have to pay,” he says.

“I think that’s exactly what that means.”

“Just take it,” he huffs as he brings out a note from his wallet, the force making something else fly out and fall to the ground with it, having the boy swiftly crouch down and pick the item up, attempting to hide it before you get a chance to see. And now, you don’t have 20/20 vision, but you recognise your face when you see it– that, and you also recognize the small white sheet to be a polaroid picture, and as far as you’re aware, you’re the only one who has a camera in his circle.

The boy hands you the drink with red-tinted cheeks. The idea of him carrying a picture of you that he took back in September makes you flush as well, and when your gloved fingers accidentally meet as you take the cup from him, he forces out a laugh. “We can talk about that after you tell me why you’re avoiding me.”

His nonchalance has you relaxing only for a few seconds. The boy walks with you as you try to heat up your cold hands on the boiling surface of the cup, and when you see a bench a few meters away from you two, you instinctively take a seat.

“So?” he becomes you, eyebrows rising as he takes a sip from the melted sweetness.

Sighing, you try to come up with the best way to go around this. Do you apologize? Do you promise to never do it again– and you won’t, even though you want to so badly and his lips look surprisingly soft today? Furrowing your brows at the war in your head, you place the cup on the bench next to you and put your head into your hands, hiding away from him when you realize the only way to do this is to be completely, utterly honest.

“I’m just so embarrassed, Eric.”

The only noise meeting your eardrums in the moment is the faint yelling of the crowd sledding in the background, your companion remaining quiet for a bit. When he sees you won’t explain yourself, he goes ahead and asks the question. “Why?”

“Do I really have to spell it out for you?” you sigh, not believing his so casual composure.

“Maybe,” he laughs, the airy sound taking all breath away from your lungs.

Well, not all of it, since you have enough oxygen to go on a tangent, it seems. “Because I kissed you, goddamnit. And- and I don’t even know why I did it, honestly, I’ve never thought of kissing you before! It’s just- when I heard the world is ending, I realized I hadn’t had my first kiss yet, and that just felt like such a miserable way to die, and then you asked what I wanted to do before I die and I couldn’t think of anything else,” you say, progressively taking out your head from your hands and facing the male, big eyes staring into his soul.

To your surprise, he doesn’t seem mad. Or disgusted. Or any of the reactions you expected, really. Eric stares at you with a soft, but amidst a little star-struck look in his eyes, and you’re suddenly painfully aware of every slight shift in his composure.

“Did you kiss me because you wanted to kiss me, or because you thought the world was gonna end?” he asks, awaiting your answer.

And if you’re being honest, 2 days after New Year’s Eve, you do admit the thought of the world actually ending sounds a bit stupid. Why did you even believe that theory? Why did they talk about it so seriously on the news? They tricked you into ruining your own life.

But still, nothing can be done about it now. “Both,” you admit, shrugging, “I… I kissed you because I really didn’t want to die unkissed, but also… I wanted it to be you, y’know? Like… I thought we were really going to die, and so I thought kissing you might be a nice way to go. I really wanted to spend my last moments with you, I guess,” you sheepishly say, averting your gaze from the male.

Eric offers you his silence again after you’re done explaining. While you do admit you feel a little tense to hear what he has to say, you also realize you feel lighter now that it’s out in the universe and out of your system. A major weight was taken off your shoulders with the confession, and suddenly, you’re kind of glad that your friend was so assertive and insistent on talking about this– who knows how long you’d go before managing to face him. You think you could honestly go on… forever.

Taking a sip of the luscious liquid, you feel your body warm up once the anxiousness slips away from your bones. The boy next to you hums, making you face him with expecting eyes. “Then why were you avoiding me?”

Sighing, you shake your head. “I just told you. I’m starting to think you’re the one that’s bad at listening.”

“No,” he laughs, “that’s still you. Because if you were good at listening, you’d remember me telling you that I’ve never once seen you as my younger sister.”

Shrugging, kicking the pile of snow in front of you with the tip of your winter boots, you’re not quite following. “So?”

“So you should’ve realized that I’m not doing all of this,” he theatrically swings his arms around, “for nothing, you know?”

“All of what?”

“Taking care of you. Feeding you, helping you collect those stupid animal stickers, walking you home…” he mumbles, sighing. “Keeping your picture in my wallet,” he adds with a playful tone, making you smile.

“I thought you were just being a good friend,” you shrug.

“I don’t keep a picture of your brother on me at all times,” he says, tugging off his gloves. The sleeve of his jacket rides up a little as you watch him take his cup of hot chocolate off the bench, surprised (and flooded with warmth) to see the ugly friendship bracelet you made still adorning his wrist.

Grinning to yourself, excitement welcoming itself into the tips of your fingertips, you shrug. “So?” you mirror your own question from a little while ago, wanting him to say it to you instead of relying on your own brain– you think there’s still a possibility of you just being too delusional to see the reality for what it really is. You need to make sure you’re not imagining things.

“So,” he starts, sighing to himself as he turns a little in his seat to face you, “you should stop avoiding me, because I liked the kiss. And you. And we should probably do it again, because I didn’t get the chance to kiss you back the first time,” he says, once again taking all oxygen out of your lungs with the casualty of his preposition.

Locking his eyes with you, having you two staring at each other like two rays of sunshine warming up the cold January, he grins. “How does that sound?”

“Good,” you breathe out, “very good.”

The male takes it as an invitation as he scoots himself closer to you on the bench, his body turning a bit to face you. His free hand cups your cheek, leaning closer to lock his lips with you like he asked you to, your eyes fluttering close at the proximity, the fuzzy feeling in your stomach already expecting to kiss him again. The situation feels a little too idyllic to be real, though– you should’ve expected it to get ruined again.

Something cold and wet comes into contact with the side of your face, and when you sharply open your eyes, you see Eric staring at you with shock and terror in his eyes, the snow dripping down the side of his face as well. Whoever threw the snowball has good aim, you think– managing to target two people at once (even though your faces were that close to each other that it probably wasn’t even that hard), and before you get a chance to look around and see who cut off your kiss, there’s a scream coming from the left side of the two of you, the sound of feet quickly darting in the snow landing into your ears.

“Eric Sohn, what the fuck do you think you’re doing with my sister?” the voice hollers, and before you get a chance to react, the said male fastly stands up from the bench and runs to the other direction, laughter resonating all throughout the place as Sunwoo and his friends chase their shortest friend down.

Snow starts falling as you watch your brother tail his childhood friend, and with a foreign sense of warmth, you get reminded of the birthday wish you made while blowing out the candles on your seventh birthday.

You wished for someone just like Eric. You didn’t know the universe would be so kind to give you him instead.

#bjnet #the boyz #eric sohn #the boyz x reader #tbz x reader #tbz fluff #eric sohn fluff #eric fluff #eric x reader #eric sohn x reader #tbz scenario #tbz fic #the boyz scenario #the boyz fluff #the boyz imagines #sohn youngjae #youngjae x reader

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danytar · 10 days

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“Making him happy” [King!Aegon!Targaryen X Sister!Wife!Reader]

Warnings: Incest, cussing, expletives,+18,(f receiving), vulgarity, dark aegon, mention of fingering, mention of war and death.

Summary: Your husband feels very angry with your grandfather's neglect and you hate seeing his sour mood so as his queen and especially his wife you have to make him get better..

Aegon was sitting on the iron throne, watching you critically as you entered. Even though he needed his fleet, the thought of trusting a pirate disgusted him.

He didn't like the idea of trusting these sea vagabonds He was feeling weaker and weaker after the Greyjoys refused to ally with him against your half-sister. You hated seeing him like this he was angry most of the time and he still hasn't forgotten what happened to your precious son.

You were standing not far from his throne you could see him complaining and showing his frustration to his grandfather and his mother. you felt that you should keep your mouth shut for a time.

You do not rule out that he might insult you in his anger. you really tired of hearing his screams and his inconsiderate words, and you felt a strong desire to silence him. You know very well that aegon can easily shut up is he was with you.

When the court was finally empty, you saw him leaning back on his throne and holding his temples with his eyes closed.

You stood at a distance from his throne and spoke.. “You look upset what's wrong? ”.

He raised his head slightly and then looked at you with a stern look and his lips curled into a frown “Don't act like you dont know! I need a fleet! I need ships! ”.

“I know! Just calm down...please ”. You speak in a low tone and take a step towards his throne. You stop again and speak again “You do not have to ask for the support of the lords, like a beggar asking for alms”.

He stares at you with a slight smile on his lips as she speaks.

“Of course, you are right, my queen, as always. It is time we strike fear into the hearts of traitors. They must learn that they have to recognize me as king, as you said. But still, I need the support of a fleet, and the only way to do that is to rely on sea pirates, which I cannot accept without disgust”.

Your heart skipped a beat when you saw him smiling at you again you're really missed his smile So you maintained eye contact with him and did not break it yet. “We will take what is our will fire and blood we may not have ships, but we do have dragons.. so. If you don't have ships... destroy enemy ships ”. you replied.

Aegon raised an eyebrow at your comment “Are you suggesting burning our half-sister's fleet?”

“Yes”

Aegon felt a wave of surprise, but he remained calm. At least your idea would take care of the pirate part.“Well, that's an interesting idea. But wouldn't that bring a reaction that we weren't ready for? I mean, the whore might just send her dragons as revenge”.

“She can't attack us in King's landing If she does she will have to burn innocent people along with us to take revenge and you know I don't think she's that stupid to do such a thing”.

Aegon nodded at your words. That made sense. If the black queen attacked him she would have to attack King's Landing along with them. And that meant bringing fire and blood to innocent people, which was something he didn't want either.

“You are right, she cannot attack me in King's Landing, that would be suicidal. Now that you remind me, that solves the pirate problem. We burn the ships, and as for the rest, we fight them by swords and blood”.

Aegon smiled more as he looked at you, happy to feel the satisfaction of finding a way through the problem of relying on pirates. This was not only a practical solution but also a solution that would satisfy him because it didn't involve relying on sea vagrants.

“We have found our solution. Now all we need to do is prepare the attack, coordinate the dragon strikes, and strike at the right moment. If we do that, it will be quick and effective. The victory will be ours”.

He was grateful to have an intelligent wife like you. you were a gift from the gods sent to him.The frown finally went away and was replaced by a small cocky smile.

He rose from his throne as he strutted his walk towards you he put his hands on your waist and lifted you up.

“Aegon! ” you chuckled.. “I feel dizzy”.

He chuckled as well then pressed his lips to yours It was a surprise kiss, but you welcomed it He slowly put you down but you wrapped your arms around his neck pressed your body against his own body. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he placed his hands on your buttocks to support you.

Aegon's hands moved slowly, tracing your curves and enjoying the feel of your soft skin. He lingered on each part of your body and savored every inch of you, letting himself feel the pleasure and heat radiating from her.

your lips remained joined, and he pressed his body against yours. His heart beat faster, and his hands moved lower on your body, exploring every inch of you. He wanted to feel your entire body against him, pressing himself against you as close as he could.

You felt like he lost his balance and started to back towards the Iron Throne. you chuckled on is lips as he He sat on his throne again while you were still clinging to him. Even his ruby crown lost its balance and fell off his head.

You looked at the crown as it rolled to the ground he grabbed your chin to bring your attention back to him and kissed you again This time, more passionate and hotter his tongue joined the kiss as well. You can't and moan in his mouth too.

Aegon moaned louder in response and kissed you back, using his tongue to explore your mouth in the same way. your tongues danced together, and the passion grew higher.

your bodies pressed against each other, the heat of your bare skin causing a wave of tingling to sweep over your. His hands ran from your waist to your hip and then to lower, his fingers sliding beneath the fabric there.

“Ah- my love-

“ A good queen who know to please her husband ”. he whispered.. “how lucky I am”.. His tone and voice were full of lust and seduction.

Your cold fingers slid down to unbuckle his belt and invade his dangerous areas. Aegon groaned softly at the feeling of your cold fingers underneath his pants. your hand had a delicious effect, causing his body to shiver with pleasure.

His heartbeat grew even quicker, his breath grew heavier, and he felt that he was about to lose his control when you touched that spot. His lips became more active as he continued to explore your mouth, your tongues making their way while he felt your fingers below his pants. His kisses became more active and enthusiastic, and he felt his body twitching and trembling.

You pulled away from his embrace to kneel in front of his throne then you unziped his pants. He wanted to speak, but he quickly felt your mouth on him He felt a shiver in his body. So he closed his eyes and let you comfort him. He let out a loud groan of pleasure begun to sink back into the throne.

“Fuc-fuck- yes.. darling.. make y- your king.. happy ”. He groaned as his fingers tangling in your hair. It didn't take you long before he reached his climax. You both forgot that you were in the throne room and were vulnerable to interruption and intrusion at any moment.

but you both were the king and the queen of the seven kingdoms and you will do whatever you want even if it meant having sex on that pile of metal.

Soon you felt him cum inside your mouth you took everything he gave you graciously. When you finally pulled away from him, he opened his eyes and smiled widely at you.

His thumb wiped away the remaining liquid on the corner of your mouth. you chuckled softly so did he Then he pulled you into his lap again he unzipped your pants this time to put it inside you.

Of course he wasn't done with you yet...you were the one who wanted to play dirty...

– Taglist ♡ : @hisfavegiri @callsignwidow @xitsemm @saltytidalwavetyphoon @khaleesihel @credulouskhaleesi @lovelykhaleesiii

#house of the dragon #aegon ii targaryen #hotd #aegon headcanons #aegon the second #hotd fanfic #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon fanfic #hotd aegon #aegon x reader #aegon imagine #aegon x you #aegon targaryen smut #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen ii x you #tom glynn carney #tom glynn carney x reader #danytar

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arafilez · 1 month

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ▰ ▰ ✶ WØRLD EPISØDE FIN: WILL ⪨

ㅤㅤ➛ ㅤiii.ㅤ EMERGENCY 𒉽 jeong yunho❛ 𓇿

🥂̸̤ㅤㅤMDNI smut, fluff ㅤ ✸ㅤyou can hack into anything and everything! except maybe jeong yunho's heartㅤㅤ───ㅤㅤ w: kissing, flirting, praise kink, size kink, oral (f receiving) ㅤㅤ»ㅤㅤ wc: 3.2kㅤㅤ𠈔ㅤㅤ moodboard

ㅤ❛ you're the reason why i am dancing in the mirror ❜

You type away furiously in your laptop with the new code that Yeosang has sent to your base and continue changing bits of your programming code to try and infiltrate into the Z-dimension’s security system. It was hard and with the variety of codes in front of you the best thing you can do now is stay calm and concentrate. You still have time till tomorrow.

Wooyoung is almost done with the hologram of the ship, Yunho is fixing some of the hardware and you only need to crack this code. You rack your brain to find another loop you are missing, some kind of infinite series, or it might be a null loop that you have to add when you hear a loud crash. Jerking up your head from your laptop your first instinct is to run because there has been an attack.

Your second instinct is to stand in confusion as you hear Yunho scream, “What the fuck, man?” to your brother and him blabbering some excuses. Yunho shakes his head and goes back to work as you look at your brother who just winks at you mischievously. With disgust painting all your features, you set back to work ignoring Wooyoung’s whines about you being a ‘bad’ sister.

You type down the various codes again and try to work but nothing comes up as a frustrated groan leaves your lips. Should you try a completely different method or go back to the basics of a for-loop and add a simple elif loop. But wasn’t that too simple? You jerk up in surprise again as you feel a hand on your shoulder and turn around saying, “Wooyoung, I don’t have time for your shit.”

Your words dry at the back of your throat as you look at Yunho’s smiling face with the contrast of his veiny hand on your shoulder. Should a simple touch make you light-headed? No, it should not, absolutely not. “Hi Yun,” you murmur and your ears suddenly feel hot when you extend his grin looking at you.

Your insides feel like melting, but before you let your heart win, your mind interferes and you cough lightly. He also seems to get out of a trance as he says, “You can do this tomorrow, sleep for today, and you look like shit.”

“Such sweet words you say Yun!” you roll your eyes affectionately, and he chuckles. Leaning towards you he gently places a hand on your hips and whispers, “I can say more if you want me to.”

“Do I now?” you smirk lightly looking up at his tall figure as you think you see his eyes darken just a little, a smirk adorning his pretty face but almost instantly his hands leave your waist and he is gone. You exhale lightly shaking your head at your hallucinations and close your laptop.

Yunho is flirty. He will flirt with a stray cat if given a chance and you scold your heart lightly at it racing for him. Yunho didn’t mean it, he never meant it and it has always been that way. Him flirting, you flirting back and that was it.

“Gosh, stop with the heart eyes, it’s disgusting,” Wooyoung says making fake gagging sounds as you roll your eyes at your twin and get up. “So did you see that?” Wooyoung asks looking at you expectantly and you furrow your eyebrows.

“See what Wooyoung-ah?” you ask as you move around your desks turning off the projectors and look up to see his wiggling eyebrows. He smiles mischievously saying, “How he got angry when I threw that?”

“Yes, why did you even throw that thing so hard? I thought we were attacked, you piece of shit,” you scold him gritting your teeth as he makes a face at you which screams ‘I am so done with my dumb sister.’

“I did it for you, remember, how you said Yunho looks hot when angry?” Wooyoung grins and your fingers pause over the projector switch as you look up and scream, “What?”

“He. Looks. Hot. The point was made. So I did it for your eyes to be blessed,” he screams back and you walk over to him holding him by his collar. As you smack your brother's shoulder, your face is probably adorned with fifty shades of red and pink.

“Sh-shut up, and stop screaming,” you whisper-yell at him and another patch of hyena laugh comes from him as you slowly release his shirt.

“You are so gone for him, sis.”

“Am not.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes.”

“You said he looked hot yesterday when he had grease in his face while he was fixing the machine,” Wooyoung cocks his eyebrows as you look away. Well a small patch of oil and grease on his right cheek made him look sexy which was no lie but the mistake was telling your hyper brother about it.

“You like him so much, it is gross,” Wooyoung speaks a little too loudly as you try to shush him but he continues, “Oh we both know you have degrading kink too, even if you try to hide it.”

“Woyo shut the fuck up,” you scream jabbing him in the side to which he just giggles like the menace he was.

“Are you guys okay?” Yunho peeks from the door and you say ‘yes’ a little too quick for your liking. Wooyoung clicks his tongue in disapproval and whispers, “What did I teach you about playing hard to get?”

You don’t pay attention to him but instead look at Yunho, staring at him quite openly as you take in his messy silver hair sprawled over his forehead and being lightly tied back with a bandana.

“Take a picture, it will last longer,” Yunho chuckles leaning his tall body against the doorframe and you can hear Wooyoung snicker behind you as you look down scolding yourself for getting caught for your blatant stare.

Yunho walks in and keeping down the file he had gone to fetch walks towards your desk and you can hear Wooyoung mumble something along the lines of “Seonghwa hyung is calling me” before you can call out his bluff because Seonghwa hadn’t returned yet, he sprints off leaving you and Yunho alone in the room.

You click your tongue at your brother and his antics to “get you and Yunho laid”, his words, not yours, and know he did this on purpose. If you make a list right now it will be endless how many times your brother has actually done this.

He once locked you two in a laundry room which had another door, and once tried to lock you two in his room at a New Year’s party, instead, his overly drunk self, locked himself, successfully spinning the bottle for you two to kiss only for San to barf all over the floor, trying to send you two in a ‘seven minutes in heaven’ only for the lights to be cut off and hear Mingi scream his ears off. You appreciated his efforts but you knew this from the heart- the universe doesn’t want you and Yunho together. You knew you weren’t Yunho’s type but who was your brother to listen.

Yunho’s fingers softly caress yours as you are broken from your thoughts and he smiles softly saying, “I will help you tidy up.”

“Yun, you don’t have to,” you say softly but he hums and says, “No, I volunteer,” and places a hand on his chest as if he was taking a pledge making you giggle at him.

But in the back of your mind you know Wooyoung is right about you two being too oblivious and trying to hide your feelings by sticking to casual flirting. You push these thoughts to the back of your mind but they come back. How Yunho’s eyes had lingered on your lips and your eyes even after San barfed, how he casually slid over to your desk and hovered over your figure while his fingers rested on yours when you told him to check a code. There’s plenty of space beside you but he always does that. You know his lust-filled eyes and the tinge of jealousy in them when Yeosang practices his seducing skills on you. How his eyes lingered on your exposed neck in the last mission and then trail along your jaw to your lips making you fidget on your seat as Hongjoong was handing out your positions.

And you enjoy this too much. The little push and pull game you two keep playing, the way he gives you his attention and you bask in it. But lately it has been too much. Playful flirting has turned to intense staring, light jokes have turned into him and you being too close physically but never escalated. And your fool of a heart was falling for all these.

“What is on your mind? Me?” Yunho says coming right in front of you and you look up at his tall frame looking deep into your eyes. Earlier you would have flirted right back, but now they have started to make you lose your voice, weaken your knees, and your hands sweat. The effect it had on you now was insane. If you didn’t have any better judgement you would push him down right there on the table and take him. Or let him take you. Either way works.

You shake your head stuttering out a “no” but Yunho doesn’t ponder much leaving you to your desk as he puts his own documents down on his table. After you two were done, you left, Yunho following suit and then the door closed automatically as you two walked out. The walk is quiet, tension thick in the air when you decide to test a theory.

You are one of the best technicians here, the best hacker, so maybe you can hack yourself into Yunho’s heart too.

You trip lightly on air, very much on purpose, and wait like a damsel in distress to fall and for Yunho to catch you. His muscular arms easily slide around your back and you grin satisfactorily in your mind at your plan being successful. You open your eyes with your best-acting face on when you see the smug grin on his face.

“Did you do that on purpose?” he cocks his eyebrows at you and you get up scoffing lightly, “You wish.”

You feel dizzy seeing his face as he leans close to you and his lips hover just above yours as he says, “I wish for a lot of things, you know?” You draw in a sharp breath at the close proximity but Yunho swiftly moves away, opens his door and calls out, “Don’t trip anymore on your way, I am not there to catch you, you know?” followed by a cheeky grin.

You enter your room, your thoughts screaming only Yunho’s name and you keep thinking about him even when you make yourself comfortable under your covers. God he is making you suffer so much, it has been an hour since the incident but his thoughts are unbearable, if only you can hold him by his collar and push him against the wall and make out.

And your brain clicks.

This is it.

This is what you have been missing. A firewall. The code is for breaking the firewall to get to the main security system. You scramble up, throwing your sheets down and putting a jacket over your t-shirt and shorts you walk out with your ID. You open the door of the lab and run to your table taking out the papers sprawling them on the table and typing out the code in the computer.

And it worked.

You jump in joy lightly and send a text to Hongjoong about the success which you knew he would check in the morning. You stumble lightly, tipsy from your happiness and you bump into a muscular chest behind you.

Yunho.

Yunho?

Shouldn’t he be sleeping?

“Why are you up?” his deep voice rumbles making goosebumps dance against your skin and you can feel your insides turning mushy.

“Just had to finish this,” you reply, voice coming out much breathier than you intend it to be and you glance at him just to retract your eyes because of his own boring into yours.

“Hmm? What you got there?” he hums lowly, his tall frame leaning over your back as his hands swipe open the computer while the other goes around your waist and holds the desk. You become a bit light-headed as soon as his cologne hits your nose and you inhale it sighing carelessly.

His head is now almost on your shoulder while your body is stiff as you grip the desk more rigidly when you intake the view of his veiny hands around you and on the mouse casually swiping through the code you had cracked earlier. Your breath becomes unstable as you realise the proximity and you curse your mind for liking the warmth of Yunho’s body pressed against your back.

“Well, Hongjoong is going to be satisfied,” he breaths out and you can feel it tickle your senses as you hum and look at his face. He looks at you back and for a moment you feel everything stop. His eyes glaze into yours and you look back into his dark ones and wonder what bliss could possibly come.

Yunho is so close to kissing you. His eyes are fixated on your lips and his whisper sends a warm flush all over your body, “If we do this, there’s no going back.” You are in a haze and you whisper, “Yes,” and it barely makes it past your lips before Yunho kisses you.

And suddenly the air is knocked out of you. This was an emergency situation, an uproar went in your head.

Jeong Yunho is kissing you, his lips on yours and you push down all questions in the back of your mind and kiss him back. The kiss becomes impatient almost immediately as he grips your waist and holds your cheek with his other hand manoeuvring the kiss. You kiss him back feverishly, lips clashing harshly against each other and you tangle your hands in his hair tugging at them harshly.

He pulls away for a breath of air and you pant lightly as you look up to his lust-filled eyes and he hoarsely speaks up, “My room.” The walk through the corridor is a blur and you cling onto Yunho’s arms as he quickly opens the door and closes it after you two enter.

Pushing you against the door he kisses you again and swipes his tongue over your lips and you grant him access as a slow, elicit moan leaves your mouth. Fighting for dominance is not useful as Yunho taps your thighs twice and you comply with him jumping and locking your legs along his torso as he carries you to his bed.

Lying you down gently Yunho’s eyes run over your messy figure before he asks, “Are you sure?”

Your heart melts at the sincerity in his tone and you nod a “yes” quickly not wanting to waste any more time as Yunho dives in for your neck. He presses light open-mouth kisses along your jawline before moving his head and sucking harshly on your neck. You moan loudly as he continues nibbling delighted at your response and presses a light kiss adorning his work after.

You start to become impatient and almost rip open his shirt and he chuckles lowly saying, “Slow down, kitten.” You exhale lightly at the nickname and watch him pull your t-shirt over your head and throw it to the other side of the bed. You run your nails through his toned chest drooling over the perfect texture and he chuckles.

“Damn no bra, aren’t you naughty, kitten?” he slurs his words lightly and you throw your head back in pleasure as he takes one of your perked-up nipples and fiddles with it.

“I-I was just-" You try to finish your sentence and he hums bringing his voice lower by an octave and looks at you almost challenging you to finish the sentence. “I was just going to sleep so I had no bra o-oh my fuck Yunho,” you moan loudly as he dips down suddenly sucking your other nipple. You arch your back in pleasure and his hands slide down your waist playing with the hem of your shorts before yanking them off along with your panties.

The cold air hits your clit making you shiver from the sensation and he smirks looking at your state. Arousal drips from your vagina and he places a long finger collecting them and pushes his finger in you. You cry loud at the immense pleasure you feel and you see his pants straining as he moans too and says, “Fuck, you are beautiful.”

He scissors another finger inside you and then adds another and you moan his name loudly as he hits your g-spot frequently and picks up pace and you feel your stomach tightening. You are close, so close when he suddenly pulls out his fingers and pants and you open your eyes at him desperately.

“Need you,” he moans and quickly opens his pants and boxers and you almost gasp at the sight. You knew he was big, but this was a whole new level and you drool at it. Yunho would be proud but right now he was horny and needy and needed to be inside you badly.

He hovers over positioning himself and pushes inside you and you moan his name out loud as he stills himself. When you tap him to move he obeys and picks up his pace, his strong hands holding your hips down as he slams into you. “Fuck faster, Yun,” you scream and he coos at the nickname.

“Fuck baby aren’t you small and tight?” he moans explicitly when he feels the tip of his cock on your stomach, “All for me.” Your eyes roll back and you chant his name feeling your high build up fast at his pace.

His cock slams against your walls making you light-headed as you barely murmur an ‘I’m close’ and you can hear him grunt something along the lines of ‘Me too.’ With one last long-drawn moan you cum, your high getting released rapidly. He pulls himself out before coming all over your stomach.

You pant lightly, slowly returning to reality as Yunho gets up to get some wet tissues from the bedside table. You watch him silently as he cleans you and himself up while you lie and adore his face that was sculpted by the gods. His awkward clearing of throat brings you back from your trance and you look at the shy smile that makes its way into his face.

“Listen urm, I like you, y/n,” he speaks shyly gazing at your fingers which were now intertwined with his and you smile back saying, “I like you too, Yun.”

“Oh good,” he exhales and you laugh at his puppy-like demeanour and run your fingers through his grey hair as he leans into your touch. He brings his lips down to kiss you and you can feel his smile as you kiss him back softly as he holds your hands in his. Pulling back he puts another peck on your lips as you two become a giggling mess under the warm covers.

✸ㅤ ara's notesㅤㅤ───ㅤㅤ i am happy for this one yayay lmao i mean a bit self indulgent but okay ig ㅤㅤ»ㅤ series mlistㅤ ateez mlist ㅤ main mlist ㅤ naviㅤㅤ𠈔

✸ㅤ taglistㅤㅤ───ㅤㅤ @haneagerr @tunaasan @evidive @huachengsbestie01 @philijack @atiny-lizbeth @chxnnii @nakiiko @therealcuppicake ㅤㅤ»ㅤㅤ comment here or in series mlist to be added or removedㅤㅤ𠈔

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britany1997 · 18 days

Text

Fate Yields For No One

Chapter Five

Well y’all, it’s been a month so you know what that means:):) Hope you enjoy the next installment in the series! I can’t wait to show y’all how this fic is going to develop even further!

Poly Lost Boys x Max’s Daughter Reader

Comment to be added to my Taglist for this fic or for all my Lost Boys fics!

FYFNO Masterlist

California, 1986

The boys were too stunned to speak.

Until Paul abruptly broke the silence with a resounding “what the fuck.”

You pulled away from Maria’s embrace when a familiar voice shattered your moment. You sighed, pushing your frustration down and turning to glare at the blond menace.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t alone.

The same feeling you’d had when you’d met Paul a couple weeks ago surged through you once more as you met eyes with each of his friends.

The bleach blond one looked disgusted, almost angry, with his eyes narrowed and his mouth fixed into a sneer.

The curly haired one bit his gloved thumb, his eyes skittered back and forth between you, Maria, and his friends. He bounced, shifting his weight back and forth from one foot to the other, practically vibrating.

The dark haired one was unreadable. Your eyes narrowed as you took in his expression. You searched for nervousness, anger, sadness, anything. But his face revealed nothing, it was almost intriguing.

Paul looked broken. His mouth slightly agape and his eyes resembling those of a kicked puppy. Despite his pitiful appearance, you couldn’t find it in yourself to feel any remorse.

You reminded yourself that you’d always been entitled to make your own damn choices.

The little utterances of “mine” that broke through their lips meant nothing to you. You had never belonged to anyone but yourself. And you had always been your own to give.

You crossed your arms and scowled, daring them to intrude any further on your time with Maria.

You felt a hand slide along your cheek, turning your head slowly until you were faced with your lover.

“Hey,” she soothed, staring into your eyes with a slightly nervous gaze. You softened immediately.

“It’s getting late, we’re already closed, and it seems like you need to talk this out,” she said gently.

You took her soft hands in your own. “No, please don’t go,” you pleaded, “it’s them who should leave.”

When she smiled, it didn’t reach her eyes.

“We’re working the night shift together tomorrow,” she reminded you, “figure this out ok? I’ll be here.”

She leaned in to kiss your cheek, “I’ll always be here for you ok?”

“Ok,” you whispered back as you stroked her face softly, causing a blush to rise on her cheeks.

Paul cleared his throat loudly and you shot him a glare that would have peeled paint.

Maria’s hand over yours calmed you down just a bit. She reassured you with a smile before she slipped out the front door.

With Maria gone, you were free to feel the depth of your frustration at the four men before you.

“What do you want?” You grit out through clenched teeth.

Paul threw up his hands, “what is wrong with you?”

Your face flushed red, half with embarrassment, and half with anger. You clenched your fists. Nothing was wrong with you. Something was clearly wrong with him because he couldn’t. take. a hint.

The dark haired vampire shot Paul a look that seemed to reign him in. Then he stepped forward to put himself between you and the three other men.

“I’m Dwayne,” he introduced himself gently, his face still devoid of any emotion.

“Ok,” you spat, “congratulations.”

His mask broke a bit, looking slightly taken aback by your hostility, but he quickly composed himself.

“We just want to talk,” he said, his hands up in a sort of surrender, “let us explain some things to you.”

Your eyes narrowed, and without Maria there to diffuse the situation, your arms crossed again.

“Explain things to me?” You felt rage bubbling up inside you, “what could you possibly have to explain to me?”

Dwayne, to his credit, maintained his calm, collected demeanor. The bleach blond however seemed to be seething behind him.

“It’s hard to know where to start…we’re your-”

“I know.” You cut him off.

“You know?”

“I know what you are, and I know what we are,” you flashed him your fangs.

The four boys couldn’t hide their shock. The bleach blond one pushed past Dwayne to stare you down. “You’re not a human,” he mused.

Dwayne placed a hand on his shoulder, “David…” he warned.

David rolled his shoulder to shove off Dwayne’s hand.

“Listen sweetheart,”

You scowled at the pointed nickname.

“You’re ours,” Paul cringed at David’s words.

“The sooner you get it through your thick head,” David tapped your forehead, causing you to bare your teeth, “the better.”

“Oh fuck,” Paul whispered.

You stared David down, your body shaking slightly in anger. “If you ever fucking touch me again I will rip your head from your shoulders and burn your decapitated body you arrogant asshole,” You hissed.

He hissed back, his fangs on full display.

“David please,” the curly hair vampire begged.

“Marko,” David turned to growl, “I won’t tolerate this kind of insubordination.”

You gripped the edge of the video store desk so hard you thought it might break off.

Dwayne yanked David back by his arm. With the way the bleach blond man glared at the him you thought they might come to blows.

“Do you think you’re helping right now?” Dwayne asked.

David rolled his eyes, “she’s disrespecting me, she’s disrespecting us.” he glared at you.

You scowled back, trying to seem unfazed by his egotistical display.

“Is that what she’s doing?” Dwayne asked, “or is she setting boundaries and making choices you don’t like?”

Your hostile face dissolved to shock. You weren’t expecting that kind of support.

“Love can’t be forced,” Dwayne continued, “you know that, I know you know that.”

David stared at Dwayne before sighing deeply.

You tensed when he moved towards you. “This isn’t over,” he hissed.

You scoffed, “yeah that’s what he said,” you hooked your thumb towards Paul, “I’ll tell you what I told him. It sure seems like it is.”

David’s eyes narrowed but he kept his mouth shut.

“C’mon boys,” he gestured for the men to follow him out of the store.

Dwayne didn’t even glance back as he left.

Marko shot you a longing look, but when you looked away, he sighed before following Dwayne out the door.

Paul lingered. He opened his mouth, only to close it, time after time.

“What do you want?” you scowled.

“We could make you happy,” he said in the softest voice you’d ever heard. “I could make you happy.”

You stared at him, his eyes full of hope and desire.

“If you really want me to be happy…”

He moved closer, hanging on every word you said. His fists clenched at his side, desperate to touch you but holding back.

“Then I need you to leave me alone.”

His face fell, any hope in his eyes had shattered and dissolved.

He turned away, dead heart breaking in his chest.

“Ok,” was all he could muster as he too disappeared from the store.

As soon as he’d slipped from sight, you rushed to the front door to flip the sign from open to closed.

Grateful for the solace that an empty store provided, you slunk to the back room to mull over the events of the night.

You slid down the door until you were seated, head in hands. Part of you wondered if it would be so bad to give in. The Dwayne guy seemed respectful and kind enough, and if you were honest with yourself, you weren’t unattracted to him either.

If you were really honest, you weren’t unattracted to any of them. Except that David asshole.

It wasn’t his face that bothered you, but his abismal attitude. He might as well have been Max Jr.

He didn’t own you. No one fucking did.

Then there was Maria.

Her beautiful face flashed through your mind. She was kind, she was brilliant, she was caring, and you could see yourself falling for her one day.

God you’d had your first kiss with Maria tonight and you were thinking about those possessive vamps?

How could you ever consider trading her in for these four strangers with nothing but some kind of empty ‘claim’ on you.

You sighed.

You couldn’t deny that you’d felt the pull. You blamed your stupid, uncontrollable vampire instincts.

But what was lust, passion, and desire when compared with connection, comfort, and love?

Maria was the one you wanted. You chose her, and you’d do what you had to to keep her.

Whatever it took.

FYFNO Taglist❤️:

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amica-aenigmata-naboo · 3 months

Text

Hurt

Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 1.1K WC

Masterlist

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, being mean to each other, fighting, fluff ending

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

You normally didn’t mind, you really didn’t. His little quips and remarks usually made you laugh. But as of late they were making you uncomfortable, beyond that they were making you sad. You were sure he meant no harm but nevertheless harm was caused. Like little paper cuts on your heart. Today had hurt especially. He dodged your morning kiss, making a face that you could only describe as disgust. He made you the butt of most jokes. You didn’t even stay in his tent at night anymore because he never came to you, staying out all night doing gods know what or sleeping away from you.

“You have a type don’t you? Elven prostitutes… honestly darling it’s pathetic.” Astarion said as you finished speaking with the drow twins. His voice was unimpressed and dismissive of you.

Your face fell and you felt your eyes grow wet. You handed Karlach the crude map the drows gave you, leading to the wine festival you were to attend in order to stop a series of murders. “Were done for the day.” you said stoically, leaving Sharess’ Caress. The sun was just beginning to dip down behind the mountains. You waved your hand, golden flakes enveloping you. Your armor was gone and you were left in simple clothes. A hand clasped your shoulder, stopping you from walking.

“Love…” Astarion started.

You cut him off, “Leave me alone.” you said, harshly shrugging his hand off your shoulder and shoving him away. You turned and started to walk off again. Ever persistent, he followed you. He grabbed your wrist with a much softer grasp but you were having none of it. Gold flowed from your hand, forming a small dagger. You yanked your hand away before pointing the knife at his throat, “I won’t ask again.” you spat at him. His face contorted. He looked hurt, wounded by your words and actions. And honestly, you felt good. He was finally feeling what had been building up in you for weeks.

He watched you disappear in the crowds of Baldur’s Gate. What had he done? He knew exactly what. He was not kind to you as of late. This bitter pit inside of him had him acting irrationally. He knew exactly what it was. He loved you so he was trying to push you away. And by the looks of it, he was succeeding. He sighed, dropping his head. You needed space, so he would give it to you. He returned to camp with the others. He anxiously awaited your return, trying to come up with what he would say to you.

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

You wandered the city, not sure where you were trying to end up. You just wanted to be away. Eventually you made it out of the city and into the wilderness. You sat on the edge of a cliff. You watched the ocean below crash against the rock over and over again. You finally shed your tears. You tried not to blame yourself but you had no idea what had changed in him. You knew what you had to do, now you just needed to gather the courage to do it. You were the leader, you had to be strong.

Deep into the night you returned to camp. Astarion watched you walk to your tent. You lit a few candles, your tent illuminating him as he edged closer. You were taking your trousers off when he walked in. You pulled them back up with a huff and pulled your large shirt down to cover you.

“Hardly the first time I’ve seen you without clothes…” said Astarion, trying to lighten the mood.

“That was the past.” you said in a flat voice before you pushed past him to grab your brush. You brushed your hair in the mirror, acting as if he was invisible.

Astarion’s undead heart felt like it was trembling. You weren’t upset, you were angry. He had never seen you angry and he had a feeling he was about to experience a side of you he was unprepared to meet.

“Darling…” he started, reaching towards you.

You turned around, dodging his hand. “No. You don’t get to call me that anymore.” you said confidently, yet inside your heart was breaking.

Astarions face turned soft, scared. “What should I call you then?”

“Y/N. I am nothing to you beyond a traveling companion, so treat me as such.” your face was cold, your eyes were sharp.

“My sweet, please…” he said. You shot him a glare for the pet name but he persisted. “Y/N…”

“Do you have anything of value to say? If not, I need rest.” you sauntered over to your bedroll, half expecting him to leave. With the way he was treating you, he should be jumping at the chance to leave.

“I’m sorry.” he said in a small voice.

You had never heard him like that, even in his softer moments. You forced your eyes to meet his and noticed the lone tear falling down his cheek. “Were nothing to each other Astarion, you hardly have anything to be sorry for. You should go.” you said, doing your best to keep up the facade.

“No!..” he blurted. You quirked an eyebrow at him. “... please just let me say my piece… If you still want me to go afterwards, I will without fuss.”

You sighed before nodding at him.

“I’m sorry… for everything. I’ve acted monstrously towards you as of late. I… I love you… and I’m so scared I didn’t know what to do… I tried to push you away. But once you were gone… everything felt worse. I don’t know what to do… but I do know I’m sorry for hurting you.” he said in a calm tone but you could hear the slight panic.

“You love me?” you asked him, unsure if you heard him right.

“More than you can imagine.” he said with the smallest smile.

“You fucking idiot...” you mumbled.

His smile completely dropped off, he nodded curtly as he turned to walk out. You grabbed his wrist, turning him towards you before you crashed your lips to his. He let out a sigh of relief he didn’t know he was holding. He squeezed you close to him, holding your face in his hands, scared you would disappear if he didn’t.

“You’re a fucking moron… but you’re my fucking moron.” you kissed him again. You wiped a tear from his face, he nuzzled his head into your hand.

“I’m so sorry…” he whispered.

You shushed him, “We were both rash, we both made judgment errors. I’m sorry too.” you kissed his cheeks. “Let's go to bed?”

“My sweet, I’d like nothing more.” he smiled at you, hugging you close before descending to the bedroll with you. “And if I’m honest, you holding a knife to my throat was rather… erotic.” He said with lust in his voice and a wink of his eye.

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

Naboo's Note:

Hello! I love a little angst so here we go! Hope you all enjoy, love you all so much! XOXOXOXOXO!!!

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cheapshrimpysheep · 8 months

Note

Hi!! i was wondering if you would take requests for first years in twisted. Something like their reaction to them arguing and the reader being like “oh you wanna kiss me so bad” during it. if not it’s perfectly fine!! thank you in advance if you do!

COMMENTS: I had some troubles with this one because I didn't quite understand what you were asking me. 😅 I asked a friend who consumes more romantic content than I do (which is practically none) and she told me about characters who don't know how to express their feelings so they annoy their romantic interest. Which I think would be out of character for everyone but Ace and even him I don't believe he gets to such an irritating point.

But what I understood could be that they were arguing because they were jealous but didn't want to admit it and so MC says something like that. So I went with that one. I hope it's good enough.

I hope you and all enjoy 😉

PS: I would have liked to have written some of Epel's lines in his dialect, but English is not my first language so I didn't know how to do it.

CHARACTERS: Freshmen (Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel & Sebek)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader

WORD COUNT: An average of 300 words per character.

CONTEXT: He heard a rumor that you were seeing a dorm-mate of his that he doesn't like. He thought you would talk about it with him someday, but you never did. And the final straw was when he heard someone comment that you two had started dating. He goes to Ramshackle Dorm to clarify the matter.

The truth is: you were seeing this guy, yes, but only because he was one of, if not the worst student in the dorm and the Housewarden or Vice Housewarden asked you if you could help him study. And they promised you a reward if you could get him to improve his grades.

That student you started helping with his studies had a crush on you and he was the one who started the rumor that you two started dating.

You hear Ace knocking on your door like he usually does. When he doesn't walk right in without knocking as if this was his second dorm. You open the door and he looks sulky.

“So you weren't going to tell your best friend the news?” he asks you with a smirk.

What news? Did the Headmage give you more work without you knowing? Whatever it is, he doesn't seem to like seeing you `play dumb´. He enters and closes the door behind him. He takes your hand and leads you to the common room.

“Spit it out! What's the thing between you and that dude?” You don't really know who he's talking about until he says his name. You tell him about helping him study. “Study? That excuse is old. Even I already used that one.”

You tell him he can even ask Riddle and Trey, they're the ones who asked you for that favor. But he doesn't seem to believe you.

“Just tell me if you guys are dating or not!”

You sound almost disgusted telling him no, you're not dating that guy. And then you say: “And why are you so angry? Would you like to be the one dating me instead?”

He would have blushed if he hadn't been so caught up in the argument. He smirks at you again. “Well I would be much better than him, that's for sure.”

“Oh yeah? So why don't you prove it?”

“And I can! I could take you on the best date you've ever had!”

“So tomorrow at eight is fine with you?”

“More than fine! You will see! I... wait... WHAT?!” Now yes, he blushed completely. You chuckle. “O-OI! This is foul play!”

“You mean you don't want to go on a date with me then?”

“T-that's not what I meant. But... ha... ha ha HA HA HA... You know what? Well played!

You hear a knock on the door, louder than normal. You open the door and see Deuce catching his breath, as if he had run to your door. You tell him to go inside and get some rest in the common room.

“I need to talk to you.” You say you can talk when he catches his breath and you pull him into the common room.

“That guy you started seeing.” he says, after resting for a moment. He says his name. “Is it true that you two are dating?” You sometimes forget that he is the sincere and straight to the point type.

You tell him no. Of course not. You were just helping him study. Riddle and Trey asked you for this favor.

“Really? You can tell me if you're dating.” he tells you that with a slightly sad expression that he can't hide. You say it's true. That you don't even know why he would think you and that guy were dating.

He explains to you how he heard about that rumor. And as you reveal each other's point of view some dots are connected and you come to the conclusion that it could have been that same guy who started the rumour. And Deuce get pissed!

You calm him down and say that if you tell Riddle, it will be off with that guy’s head for sure. And while you calm him down, you end up holding his hands, that at that moment were fists. But he was still irritated.

“The nerve of that guy! As if you would ever settle for someone like that.”

“Do you think I would be better with you?”

“Of course! You deserve the best anyone can have! Not a jerk like that! I would treat you so much better! I would-” and then he realizes what he was saying. He gets all red and covers his face with his hands.

You hear a firm knock on the door. When you open it, you see Jack in a quite serious posture. “Hi (Y/N). I need to speak with you.” You let him in and the two of you go sit on the couch in the common room.

“What is your relationship with that guy you started seeing?” he says his name. And you say you're just helping him study because Leona asked you to. Something about him being an embarrassment to Savanaclaw and Leona not having the patience to deal with it. That you were better at that sort of thing.

He is silent for a moment. His expression impenetrable, he crossed his arms and closed his eyes. Pondering something. You ask what's going on and he opens his eyes and looks at you: “Are you two dating?”

What? Of course not! Why was he asking that?

“Tell me the truth! If you are then you made a really bad choice. That guy is one of those unruly punks of our dorm. You shouldn't be with him. That guy don't deserve you. You deserve better. Way better.”

“Better? Like you, perhaps?” you startle him. And he looked like he was blushing.

“I-I didn't... I mean... I like to think that I would be better than him, sure. But...” he rubs the back of his head. And you see his ears are back, like he's scared. Of your reaction maybe?

You hear a knock on the door. You open the door and Epel greets you sulkily. You greet him and ask what's wrong. “You! Something is wrong with you.” is what he answers you. “May I come in?”

You let him in. He closes the door behind him and takes your hand to lead you to the common room with him. “What's your thing with that guy?” You ask who, and he says the name of the student you were helping. You say you're only helping him study because Vil asked you to.

“Oh yeah? What are you helping him study? And why you?” he then says a few phrases in his dialect that you don't understand, but he looks upset. You tell him the truth and ask why he is questioning you.

He first answers you in his dialect and you don't understand, he then goes back to saying it in a way you understand: “Because I know you're dating him!” You look confused and start arguing with him about it not being true. And you can't argue anymore when he goes back to talking in a way you don't understand.

“If you are so pissed off because you wanted to be the one dating me then just admit it!” You yell at him, irritated.

“AND WHAT IF I AM?...” and he shuts up for a second because he realized what he just said. He looks down at the floor, lowers his voice, and clenches his fists at his side. “What if I am... I know I'm not that strong or tall, but it's not fair...”

You calmly place your hands on his face and make him look at you again. It's up to you to reassure him now.

You hear a knock on the door so loud it seems like the person on the other side is going to break it down. And then, in Sebek’s thunderous voice you hear: “HUMAN! YOU MUST OPEN THIS DOOR IMMEDIATELY AND LET ME IN!” You open the door and see him with his usual angry face staring at you.

“May I came in?” It's kind of funny that he asks permission like that despite how rushed he is. You let him in and he talks to you right there at the entrance. It's up to you to close the door.

“Report me about your relationship with the student you started seeing. Why did these meetings start and what is the status?” You try to hide your laughter by the way he's talking, like you're some secret agent on a mission. “Why are you laughing? This is a matter of the highest importance!” The fact that you don't even know why that questionnaire just makes the scene funnier.

After he tells you the name of the "subject" you tell him, still trying not to laugh, that Lilia asked you if you could help that student with his studies.

“Quite a coherent answer. But there is a logical flaw in his narrative. How could you, a human without magic, help a student from Diasomnia with his studies?”

You might not have magic, but that doesn't mean you don't know good study methods, which is why Lilia asked for your help. Sebek believes in you, but he's still dissatisfied.

“Very well. I won't doubt Lilia-sama's plans. But you still haven't told me what your recurring status with him is.” Recurring status? What was he talking about? “I WANT TO KNOW IF IT'S TRUE THAT THE TWO OF YOU ARE IN A ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP!” What? Of course not! Where did he get that idea?

“Then what are the origins of your romance rumor?” What? Well, you don't know how it came about, but it's just that, a rumor and a lie. “Are you completely sure of that?” Of course you are!

If he really likes you, then it's because one of the things he believes you are is a person of integrity. So, he fully believes your word. You see him calm down and ponder for a few seconds.

“In that case...” and then he explodes “SOMEONE IS TRYING TO DEFAME YOUR NAME! Start a rumor about you having such a fool and weak partner. HA! I knew you would recognize your own worth not to settle for such a commoner.”

“So who do you think I should settle for?”

“NOBODY. You shouldn't just settle for anything or anyone. You should get what you deserve. And you certainly deserve much more than that worm.”

“Someone like you, perhaps?”

“Well, honestly, someone like you is even worthy of someone like my liege. But if you deem me worthy, THEN YES! I shall be the one you deserve!” he won't even try to hide it, he's too proud of himself and you.

If you dropped in here out of the blue and want to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

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queenie-avenue · 2 months

Note

Bestie so like, how would SEO min jun react if he saw the reader being all like touchy and flirty with someone else? Like touchy feely? Cause girl I'm geninunely curious

Jealous SEO MIN JUN x reader? 🤭🤭

His, his to torture.

💌 ⤻ THE ACADEMIC RIVAL, SEO MIN-JUN

—> don't touch what's his.

⤻ reader is gender neutral, possessive behaviour, obsessive behaviour, suggestive thoughts and comments, reader is oblivious to min-jun's feelings, mentions of bullying and physical violence against reader, fantasising about murder

💌 ⤻ archives.

Min-Jun swallowed a lump in his throat as he saw you in the hallway. Typically, he would ignore you — maybe even shove you a bit if he felt angry that day — despite his heart telling him to just wrap his arms around you and drag you into a room and do the most heinous acts to you that would no doubt leave you screaming and begging.

The thought almost made his mouth water, but he had to focus on what was currently happening right now.

The boy with the hands around your waist, that cute waist of yours he often manhandled and threw around using the guise of him bullying you. He loved how your cheeks would glow red with anger and embarrassment every time he passed by you in class and he grabbed your waist to push past you, mocking you by groping you in that way.

He honestly thought he might never wash his hands after that day, but that was too disgusting for him so he just made it a habit to grab your waist every day so he could feel the lingering zap of your horrid body, or your… horrible and… utterly tempting scent.

His eyes narrowed as he observed the both of you. How his arm draped around you, how you smiled awkwardly and laughed, clearly not wanting his attention but still being forced to accept it. Even if you didn't want it, you had clearly done something to tempt the guy beside you; just like how you had seduced him the day he became aware of you.

He swore he almost popped a blood vessel when he saw the guy beside you lean in closer.

That's when he couldn't take it anymore.

He practically stormed up to you and shoved the guy away from you, like you were both children and this useless guy stole his playmate from him. “Don't you dare touch them.” He hissed as he gripped your arm, holding it so tightly that you winced and you hissed in pain, which almost caught him off-guard. He'd like to hear that more later, but he had to take care of the person who thought could steal you away from him.

The guy stumbled a bit backwards and his glare made it clear that he wanted to kill whoever had dared to touch him, but upon seeing that it was the Seo Min-Jun who wanted him to get away, he ran away like a rat between its legs.

Satisfied with this reaction, he decided to deal with you next.

“So, what were you doing with that guy?” It was a simple question but his tone was clearly jealous.

“I don't think it's any of your business.” You said as you tried to shove your bully away from you.

He slammed you against the wall as multiple students scurried away from the scene, all while whispering.

“Whoever interacts with you is my business.” He stated, his hands gripping onto your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Don't forget that you're mine.”

Your cheeks flamed up at the way he said it, but you assumed you knew what he meant, and his meaning was not at all romantic. His, his to torture, he always said as he brushed past you, hands on your waist.

“You like the sound of that?” He asked softly, hot breath hitting your cheeks as he noticed that flush on your face. “God, I knew you were a loser, but not some sexual deviant.” His other hand made it to your head as he pulled your head back by the scalp of your hair, his warm breath now hitting your sensitive neck.

“If you're that eager, you can meet me after school in the student councillor's room.” He said, and your eyes widened. He had never been so direct before, and as your mind filled with ways he would torture and destroy you, his mind was filled with different way on how to bully you into submission. “That's not a request, by the way.” He said, just as the bell went off. He shoved you one last time, causing you to groan as he walked away.

You stared at him, worried about what was to come when you walked into the councilors room later, knowing that even if you rejected him this time, he would just make it worst the next day when he saw you.

The students passing by looked at you, some with pity, some laughing, but neither bothering to help you.

You watched Min-Jun as he sauntered off, unaware of what was going through his mind. You gulped as you thought of how he would slap you around in the empty room, with not even a soul to pity you or help you, but you knew even with a thousand eyes, no one would be brave enough to stand up to Min-Jun.

Min-Jun stared at his hands that had touched you, flexing them and letting the memory of your skin permeate and sink into his mind. It was all your fault. You were the one who tempted him, seduced him like the guy who was bothering his property earlier. You planted these unholy thoughts into his head and forced him to gasp into his pillow every day as he imagined his hands wrapping around your neck and choking you to death while you pleaded for him.

It was so painful, but he craved you nonetheless. And it was all your fault. Your fault, your fault, your fault.

He couldn't wait to see you Iater.

#yandere oc #yandere blog #yandere imagines #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere male x reader #anon ask #male yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere #yandere academic rival #yandere fic #yandere asks #asks

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silencesscreams · 10 months

Text

be my mistake

steve harrington x f!reader (smut)

“steve, how could i avoid you? it’s impossible, you’re everywhere i look!“

a/n: also i slipped in a little amy march reference in the discussion part, its my steve fic, sorry in advance if you dont like it and its shitty!! english isn’t my first language so sorry about any grammar mistakes

warnings: angsty-ish, best friends w the scoops troop (i love them so muchhh), afab reader, crying, swearing, kissing, praise, oral (f receiving), begging, a bit of degradation, penetration, unprotected (do not do this pls.),

MINORS DNI

you could say that working at the local family video had its perks.

specially when your two closest friends worked with you but, of course, none of them knew about your recently resurfaced crush on one of them.

steve was not the same guy he was when you met him, sure, he flirted with a lot of girls, and with you, but he was nicer. he was sweet to customers, he even occasionally 'babysit' (that was how robin called hanging out with the kids he was friends with).

recently, steve had become more touchy towards you, he was constantly giving you hugs, he even held your hand at the movies once! sure, you and steve had become best friends, but did he know the effect he had over you? he must know. you blushed whenever he barely touched you, and you felt like your feelings were pretty obvious, you never knew how to hide them properly. he must know, right?

something else, which robin had noticed and commented on with you, was that steve hadn't flirted with any girls in a while now. sure it was weird, because thats basically the thing he did the most, but you didnt really bother, it actually made you a bit less insecure.

you, steve and robin started to watch movies every late monday, since you had less customers on those days, so you'd usually 'work late' and get some takeout and watch some shitty movie you'd probably talk through and make very bad jokes about later.

“ladies! im going on a second date tonight!” he said, barging in with a smile on his face. you could feel your heart fall to the ground, you didn’t even know he had a first date with someone recently.

“what? with who?” robin asked confused.

“her names camila, she goes to state college, i think”

“hm, and did you tell her you have no dreams for the future and work at a family video?” robin teased him.

“oh please, i have a lot of dreams!” he complained, putting on his vest.

“sure you do, stevie” you commented, rolling your eyes playfully. why were you feeling so stupid?

you could feel your stomach fall to the ground, god, that hurt.

it was not like you ever even kissed him. so that meant he was just flirting with you for the fun, then, god, that hurt even more.

and plus, it was steve harrington.

you wouldn’t want to ruin your friendship ever, specially not because of some crush you had, if you could even call it that.

it lasted so long it was probably a free fall at this point.

and so steve went on the date.

and with that, steve had a new girlfriend.

and you hated every single cell in her body.

camila was mean, evil, sick, twisted, a bitch, disgusting and she had this god awful breath. her perfume left you with headaches. and did i say she was mean? because she really was.

but you couldn’t help to not be at least a bit angry at him, and so you found yourself avoiding him at all costs. mostly because he was always with camila and you found her insufferable, but it was also because, yes, you were hurt.

then steve and camila broke up.

so you found out, you had no excuse not to hang out with him anymore. you had no excuse to skip movie sessions, outings, or anything else.

and so whenever a hang out would come up, you suddenly had a sore throat, a headache, a fever. and you don’t know why, but robin wasn’t judging you for it.

you told her about your crush and told her that was the reason you weren’t hanging out with them outside of work, and she understood. she didn’t even question it, and that made you feel worse about it.

“okay, whenever you’re ready to hang out again, feel free to come over, alright?” that was all she said. and it hurt deeply, because you missed your best friends.

but being around steve was unbearable.

and you still, gave it a shot.

monday came around, and robin invited you to hang out at steve’s and watch friday the 13th. for the first time in 2 months, you said yes.

punctually, you were at steve’s, it was 7pm and that was half an hour later to what robin scheduled with you, but her car wasn’t on the driveway. that definitely made you nervous. one thing was hanging out with steve AND robin, the other was hanging out with steve.

took a while for steve to answer the door, once he did, he was standing there in all his glory, wearing grey sweatpants and shirtless. you could feel all your dignity (which was very little) leave your body. you were feeling your body get hotter by the second and the butterflies in your stomach were going crazy.

“hey, come in” he smiled awkwardly, looking around his house nervously.

“sorry i didn’t answer the door earlier, my family’s out of town and i forgot and assumed someone else would answer it.” you smiled at him.

“no problem” you said, trying so hard not to look at him.

“hm, i’m gonna put something on, sorry about that. feel free to sit on the couch, eat, whatever you want to do is fine”

“okay” you smiled, heading over to his living room. there was popcorn on the coffee table, the vhs tape on the table and there was a half filled dr pepper bottle on the floor. you thought it was sweet steve put this together, why aren’t you that mad at him anymore?

when he came back, he was wearing a old t shirt, stained with something that looked like ketchup. he was smelling good. had he put on perfume? god, you missed his smell.

“you wanna start now?” he asked, putting the tape in the vcr.

“maybe we should wait for robin, right?” you asked, fiddling with the hem of your skirt.

“she’s not coming. didn’t she tell you? she got caught up with something at work.”

“oh, right.” she didn’t tell you, and you were sure that was written all over your face.

“y/n?” he called.

“yeah?” you looked at him, your ears flushed.

“have you been avoiding me?” oh shit.

“what do you mean?” you decided to lie shamelessly was just the way to go.

“you know what i mean. you never go out with us anymore, and now i’ve just mentioned robin isnt coming, i realize its because of me.” oh shit.

“what?” you laugh anxiously. “no, i just wanna see the movie, its not like that.”

“stop it. you havent been able to look at me for weeks now and i dont get it. goddamn it! im your best friend!” he sighed, rubbing his eyes the way he did when he was nervous.

“steve, how could i possibly avoid you? you’re everywhere i look!” you blurt out, he was looking at you now. “you’re at my job, you’re near my house, you give me a ride home, you’re in my fucking friend group!”

“i just wanna know what i did, because i never meant to hurt you-“

“steve, stop it, you’re being mean.” you were looking at his hairline, not actually being able to see his eyes in that moment, you were about to do it. “you know how i feel about you and you always have.”

that was probably it, that was the death of the friendship.

“what?” he lowered his head, trying to get something out.

“you dont get to do this to me, okay? you don’t. not when you desperately flirted with me for months just to get a girlfriend. not when you tricked me into thinking that maybe, just maybe, you felt the same. not when i’ve been in love with you since middle school.” you felt like you just had a knife shoved into your stomach because of the way he looked at you. brows furrowed, eyes empathetic, but not looking at you directly.

“im going home.” you managed to get that out, with eyes watery and cheeks flushed. you got up, trying so hard not to look back at him, counting your steps to the door.

one,

two,

three,

four,

five,

six,

seven.

you felt a hand gripping your shoulder.

“stay.” he whispered.

“what?” you turned around, looking up at his hazel colored eyes.

“stay.” his hands were on your waist.

“okay.” you answer, looking directly into his dark pupils and that was probably it for you. someday this man might just kill you, your heart was beating faster than ever and you could feel your stomach knotting and knotting and knotting, it was so silly. you felt so incredibly silly.

until he pulled you in. until he was just a few centimeters away from your lips.

it all happened way too fast.

his lips were touching yours, his hands all over you. you ran your hands through his hair, your mouth parted as his tongue slides into your mouth, licking over yours. his hands on your waist.

your hand goes under his shirt and he felt so warm, until he pulls away. you look up at him, doe eyed and he smiles at you.

he doesn’t even have to say anything, and neither do you.

he takes you up to his room, his hand pressed against your lower back, leading you upstairs with the biggest smile on his face.

he opens the door for you, as you head in you notice he’s just looking at you, blushing and shifting from foot to foot. he gives you a look you had never seen before and it makes your heart pound faster than ever. you can’t bear to hide a smirk.

he stood still in the doorway, but he quickly steps forward once you go up to him and peck his lips, giving him a perfect view of your bra.

holy fucking shit.

then, like it didn’t drive you insane, you pull away, grinning at how he went forward with you.

you were sat at the edge of the, bed legs crossed and eyes observant as he locked his door.

with a speed that drives you crazy, steve lifts you and pulls you into his lap, so you’re straddling him. he does that so quickly, it makes you yelp once you land comfortably, instinctively grinding your hips down, making him groan, the low tone of his voice making heat shoot between your thighs.

“such a tease.” he was toying with the hem of your skirt. “this is hot.” he whispered, voice thick as he lays his left hand on your overexposed thigh.

you go over to kiss him again but stop in the middle of the way, liking the way he looked at you. you lift his hand, from the fabric of your skirt up to your mouth, kissing his knuckles. the action feels so intimate and sweet it makes him smile a bit (he also gets a bit hard but that’s not the point).

you look down at him from where your sat, eyelashes batting as you stop kissing his knuckles when he pulls his hand from you, slipping his fingers between yours and gripping your thigh with the spare hand. you kiss down his neck and he can’t stop thinking of how pretty you looked, really.

that shirt, that bralette he knew was under it.

its not fair you looked like that. he just couldn’t help himself at the sight of you.

his hands coast up your bare sides under the shirt, that made you shudder and rock a little in his lap, the relief of the friction ended suddenly as he grabd your hips and pins you down firmly onto him, so you can’t move.

it was useless to try to roll your hips, specially with his hold pinning you down.

he hums, hand sliding further up your top and squeezing just below your tit.

you can’t help but moan a little as he palms your skin, his voice low and thick as honey,

“you look like…” your head tips back at the feeling of his hands on you and he takes that as an opportunity to trail soft kisses along your neck “like you’re mine.” you mewl weakly as his hand cups your breast, his touch clouding up your brain.

“you’re mine, right?” you nod eagerly, pushing up against the hand tucked under your shirt. he clicks his tongue and rolls your sensitive bud between his fingers, “not an answer, hun.”

he had barely touched you and you’re already shaking, breathing heavily and face flushed.

he started kissing your neck, nipping at it.

“answer or you’re not cumming tonight.” the timbre of his voice was incredibly low once he said that, it made your eyes round and your hips buck into air.

“steve, yes, i’m yours. i’ll be so good, please.” you whined.

he squeezes your breast in approval, humming at the way your eyes shut when he touches you.

“good girl.” he lifts you up, manhandling you as you’re being laid down on the bed, his hand leaving you and making you whine. you can feel him moving downwards, trailing kisses down your neck, stomach, before arriving between your legs.

he chuckles ad you whines, trailing soft kisses down your body.

“don’t be greedy.” he looked up at you from where he’s kissing, the waistband of your skirt, eyes wide as he takes in your already fucked out and needy expression.

“my greedy girl” you nod at that, head tilted up as your back arches up a bit, his mouth still pressing messy kisses to the inside of your thighs, “practically begging for me, huh?”

he’s mocking you, nipping at your inner thighs, marking up anywhere except where you need him. his hands are gripping and rubbing soft circles into your thighs, feeling you go lax and needy under him.

“steveee” you say, blushing at how desperate you sound, “please.”

you feel him smile against your inner thigh, looking up at you, “what it is it, princess? can’t even speak and i’ve barely done anything to you, huh, so needy.” his head drops down as he sucks another hickey into you hip, “use you words.” you grind upwards and he pins your hips down, tutting. he looks at you expecting something and you know he wont give you shit until you beg for it.

“steve, please,” your voice tapers into broken whines as your hips move on their own accord, missing his mouth. “need you in me, please, i’ll be so good for you. need you so bad, please.”

“that’s all you had to say, baby.” with that, his fingers push the fabric of your skirt up, showing your lace panties. he groans at the sight.

“shit, you’re so pretty.” he presses a kiss to your clothed core, making you moan, “gonna fuck you with these on, okay?” you nod lazily, the feeling of steve mouthing over your panties makes speaking very difficult. he grins,

“so fucked out.” he flattens his tongue over you, pushing your panties aside as he swipes his tongue over to your wet heat, lapping from your slit to your swollen clit, “haven’t even fucked you yet and you’re practically soaking.”

your hand has gone to his hair, your grip tightens. he knows that your pouting at that, even if he’s not looking.

steve pushes your legs farther apart, pushing your thigh up slightly as he lapped messily at your pussy.

your hands are tugging on his hair, stirring him on as he flicks over your clit in quick strokes that leave your legs shaking around his head. he looks up at you, your head thrown back slightly, shirt hitched up showing your bralette. he reaches up with one hand, helping you take of the shirt.

once its off, he sees your lacy bralette fully, straps falling down as your back arches. it’s probably the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

he lifts your hips slightly, pressing two digits to your slick entrance, watching how you try and push against them, hips pinned down as you buck down mindlessly,

“steve!” you mewl, voice wrecked. he hums, flicking over your clit with his togue. “aw, doll, is that all you can say?” he gently fucks his fingers into your tight heat, feeling the way you clench around him as you let out another mewling main, legs thrown over his shoulders as he crooks his fingers upwards, pushing up against the sweet spot inside of you. your legs tighten on either side of his head, fingers fucking faster into you, “so fucked out, its cute.”

you blush red, eyes shut and lips parted in soft whines of his name. he liked the way you said it.

his fingers curl against your g-spot, fucking into you in tune with the quick movements of his tongue.

“fuck, steve, ju-just like that, please” he’s placing sloppy kisses over your clit, his fingers thrusting into you, picking up their pace as you clench around him, dripping over his hand.

“fuck, so pretty for me, baby” he groans as he kisses your clit, “such a pretty pussy, can’t wait to fuck you, gonna be so good for me, aren’t you?” he watches how you nod weakly between your choked moans of ‘yesyessteve’. you clench around him, his fingers fucking rapidly in and out of your cunt. you were just about to scream once he leaned forward, taking you clit in his mouth, lips latching the sensitive bud and sucking hard, fingers still curling up against your overworked spot as you grind upwards into his mouth and hand, his palm grinding against your entrance.

his fingers fuck into you fast and rough, his free hand reaching up to palm your breast through the fabric of your bra, rolling your bud between his thumb and forefinger, bringing you closer to your climax.

“i’m gonna cum, oh my god, i’m gonna cum don’t stop please-“ you moaned as your words turned into mostly incoherent nonsense. your thighs were clenching around his head, your hands curling in his hair as he lapped at you clit, his fingers hooking against your heat, watching how you fell apart at his touch, hips bucking as you chased your high.

“steve- fuck- you’re so fucking good” you can barely finish a sentence, grinding against his mouth desperately.

he loves you like this, whimpering and so needy, talking through broken little whines. the way you’re begging has him working over you faster.

he groans, feeling the was you clench around him, your slick walls contracting around his digits,

“fuck, you like that, don’t you? being mine? only good for me, huh?” any coherent answers get lost in your pleas of yes, please. he chuckles, fucking his fingers harder into you.

“ohmygodsteve” you’re a moaning mess, legs spread wide and shaking, his tongue circling your clit after his hand dropped, gripping your hip to lift you up slightly, fingers fucking into you slightly deeper. you’re praising him breath;essay, making his fingers move faster, sucking harder on your clit. he looks up at you through his eyelashes, the sight of you making him impossibly hard as he ground his hips into the mattress, taking in the way your head was tipped back, how your mouth was parted in soft moans of his name, how your fingers are gripped at his hair, grinding into his mouth and hand.

“aw, are you gonna cum already?” you nod as best as you can, his fingers are moving roughly in you, pulling you towards your finish. you try to hold off when he murmurs, flicking your clit with his tongue.

“cum for me, let me feel you squeeze my fingers with that thigh pussy.” you cum hard on his tongue, his digits still fucking into you, drawing you out of it. your climax crashes over you in waves, the feeling of being fucked open when you came making you whine.

you’re whimpering as he pulls his fingers out of you. steve reaches up and pins your legs up to your chest, kissing you hard and rough. he nips ate your lips and murmurs,

“still need me, baby?” he’s rubbing your cheeks and you can’t help but push against his touch. your voice is broken and whinny,

“yes, please, need you so bad.” he kisses you again and you can feel his hair brushing over your face,

“good fucking girl.” you practically preen from his praise, as he sits up, taking off his shirt and lowering his sweatpants, he takes a moment to dip his hand below his waistband to palm himself through his boxers,

“fuck, need you so bad,” you whine in response, as he pushes is boxers down, his erection hitting up against his stomach. you moan then, seeing him stroke his cock at the sight of you, he chuckles, running his hand down his shaft at the way you’re whining for him.

“needy little slut, aren’t you?” you feel the blunt head of his cock nudge against your slick entrance as he lines himself up to you.

“your needy little slut” you say, grinding against his tip, your slick coating him. he looks down at you with hooded eyes, his voice low as he presses himself closer to you, stretching your cunt around him.

“of course you are” he’s spreading your legs and kissing you. he rocks his hips forward, not fucking you, but enough to make you moan, “tell me if you want to stop, okay?” with that, he pushes into you.

pushing his thick length into you in one stroke, the sudden stretch making you moan breathlessly. he groans into the crook of your neck, biting down on that soft spot,

“still so tight” he wastes no time starting to ove, shallowly rolling his hips up to you. “fuck, feels so fucking good” he kisses your neck, cooing at you. “pretty girl, look at you, taking it like such a good little slut.” he’s pulling your bra down, the flimsy lace pushed back. he fucks you harder, your tits bouncing with each hard thrust into you. you’re moaning lewdly as he thrusted forward, his cock stretching you open. it feels so good, the feeling of him filling you up. you cried out and gripped at his arms, each hard thrust fucking you into the mattress.

“fuck, steve, harder” he cocks an eyebrow, then pulls out to the tip, you whine at the lost.

“you asked for it, doll” he thrusts forward roughly, filling you up with his cock, you feel him even deeper this time, the press of him against your walls making you whine louder as he thrusted harder. “can you take this?” he fucks into you rapidly, mocking you, pushing you against the headboard. “you said you wanted it harder, didn’t you?”

your cheeks burn at the way he degrades your his relentless thrusts making the heat in your abdomen start to build. you’re moaning soft chants of ‘yes, please and steve’, babbling nonsensically through your moans. his thrusts are hard and deep, pushing against your walls, filling you in perfectly.

the rapid slap of skins fills the room as his hips pick up pace, slamming against yours with each thrust, the base of his cock grinding at your clit, the friction making you moan.

“fuck, taking me so well” he’s kissing your neck and playing with your tits, “you were made for me” he groans.

“oh my god” you moan as his cock pushes into you faster, the brutal snap of his hips making you cry out, you start babbling again, chasing your high. he feels so good inside of you, the roll of his hips bringing you closer to the edge.

he can tell you’re close, from the way your hips have started bucking upwards excitedly, grinding on his cock, the way your hands are gripping the nape of his neck. you yelp as he throws your legs over his shoulders, fucking you deeper as he angles his dick perfectly against your g-spot, ramming against it with every thrust.

“please, need it so bad” you beg, steve hums, his pace unflattering as he pounds into you,

“need what, baby?”

“need to cum” your voice sounds destroyed, “please-! please, need you to make me cum, steve” he grins, grabs your hips and lifts you up, fucking into you faster than before.

“only i can do this, huh?”

“you! only you, steve!” you moan out, trying desperately to press yourself against his his harsh hursts. you clamped around him as you felt your high building again. he must’ve felt it, reaching down between you two and pinching your clit, thrusts getting faster as you cried out.

“i want you to cum” he says, fucking you onto his cock, “cum on my cock like the good girl you are.”

his thumb rubs your clit faster, moving in time with his rapid thrusts, hips pistoling into you, fucking you hard as you came with a loud cry of his name, this one harder than the last. walls clenched hard around him as you gripped the back of his neck. seeing you, head thrown back in ecstasy, face screwed up in pleasure as you cry out his name, has him groaning. head dropped into the crook of your neck as his thrusts get faster and sharper, the overstimulation drawing out high keening noises from your throat, his cock nudging against your cervix as he spills inside of you.

“fuck, so good for me, honey” he kisses your shoulder. “such a good girl” he murmurs. he pulls out slowly and takes you in his arms, laying you down.

he starts getting up and you tug gently at his wrist. he kisses your forehead smiling.

“don’t worry, i’m just gonna get some things in the bathroom”

when he gets back, he throws you an old shirt, which you quickly put on.

“i can go, if you want to.” you mutter, looking down at your hands.

“what? no, are you crazy? stay. come on, lets watch that movie” he smiles at you, opening the tissue case.

“okay, i will then.” you couldn’t help but smile.

“hey, about that thing you said earlier” he looked into your eyes. “i love you too.”

tag: @nix-rose

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