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#SHE'S THE HOTTEST GIRL IN TOWN
iwanttobepersephone · 22 days
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I don't see enough people simping for Cassie in this fandom and that's a crime
Where are all my lesbians at??? I know we have some
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hawkinsbornarc · 2 years
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&  WHEN  YOU  HELD  MY  HAND,  I  KNEW  THAT  IT  WAS  NOW  OR  NEVER  |  carol  &  tommy
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wabblebees · 6 months
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#met the hottest butch ive ever seen in my whole entire life tonight#nigh-on everyone in the room had fucking heart eyes SO BIG for her the WHOLE TIME. and then#when she said she ''really couldnt do a relationship right now''#you could hear hearts break in that room fulla gayass bitches#ABSOLUTELY including mine in that count lmao. but also im delusional so even tho after tomorrow i know ill probably never see her again#i am sitting here in bed -- HOURS later -- SIGHING WISTFULLY like a moronnnnn#lmfao. goddamnit.#hopeless romantic central; emphasis on hopeless#she was so fucking funny oh my god. and the goddamn butchivalry was off the CHARTS#i couldnt decide whether to swoon or let my own butch tendencies make me start competing lmfaooo#she was a friend of a friend visiting from the next town over; and this mutual friend had been hyping up her arrival so much id started to#think it was bc she was trying to set us up or something. which legit started to make me kinda nervous before she got here#and now im going fucking insane because oh my GOD#OH MY GODDDDD.#literally just. losing my goddamn mind. i dont know this girl at ALL & ik i dont do casual eeeeeven a little bit & shes NOT looking for That#but... fuck. goddamn. gotDAMN she was so cool#i doubt she was looking at me much If At All lmao; we were all just chilling... im just. objectively Not Good at Being Chill#anyway im writing this here hours later so i dont text our mutual friend at 5am about how rad meeting her was like some kinda creep lmfao#bee speaks#my outfit was cute but i doubt she was lookin; esp since i came straight to the party after a performance so i was in... weird shape lmao#altho im VERY glad we got to meet Before shes supposed to come see the show tomorrow lmao.#like. now at the very least her first impression of me isnt me-as-kreon; asshole misogynistic tyrant dictator-in-chief that he is hdkdgk
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Honey Girl.
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Synopsis - The Universe shows you your soulmate when it feels like you need them most. When you least expect it, you're given yours - Bucky Barnes. Your Dad's best friend. You can try to refuse it all you like; but the Universe wants what it wants. There's no denying fate.
Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au
Age Rating - 18+
Word Count - 5.1k
Warnings - cursing. sexual content towards the end. mild alcohol consumption. age gap. smut in next chapter(s).
Author's Note - part one is finally here!! thank you so much to everyone who asked to be tagged, and who liked and reblogged the masterlist. i am SO excited to share this with you. i've built this world in my head and trust me it is gorgeous - salty ocean breezes, sunsoaked sailboats and billowing white linen shirts. i hope you can lose yourself in my little seaside town with bucky for the time it takes you to read this, just as i did while writing it. i can't wait to write more of this series for you x
as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3
Masterlist. Requests. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.
Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Five. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight.
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Tethering /tɛð(ə)rɪŋ/
An event in which two soulmates are bound together forever. Only occurs when the Universe decides it is time. No sooner, no later.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
The gentle ocean breeze gives you a moment of respite from the scorching sun that's beating down. You're half asleep, laying on the cool tile of your balcony when your phone rings.
"Babe! Babe! Babe!"
"Lacie? Are you okay? What's wrong?"
"I am freaking out right now, oh my god. I didn't know who to call. You'll never guess what just happened to me!"
You can guess. In fact, you already have.
Lacie's Tethering. It's finally happened.
You're taught, growing up, that your Tethering is the biggest moment of your life. It shapes who you are forever. Sets you on your eternal path. You're presented with your soulmate in a big display of love and affection and metaphorical fireworks. It's supposed to be magical.
You wish people would shut up about it.
The World seems to be split into two categories - the people that have been Tethered, and the people that haven't.
You fall into the latter.
You're repeatedly told it'll happen one day. It'll happen when the time is right. It'll happen when you least expect it.
You're not sure you ever want it to happen.
The idea that the Universe determines the person you're with forever has never sat right with you. What happened to free will? What happened to personal preference? You believe you should at least have a choice in the matter. It's your future, after all.
Not everyone shares the same sentiment.
"Babe, you still there?"
Lacie's excitement filled voice pulls you back to reality.
"Yeah, I'm here."
"Are you busy? Can you meet me for coffee, like, now?"
You take a deep breath and plaster a fake smile on your face.
"Sure. I'll see you in ten."
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"Oh my god babe, it was just incredible! You won't even believe it. There's nothing like it, truly."
You remind yourself quickly that Lacie is your best friend, and that you owe it to her to be happy for her. Personal feelings about soulmates aside.
"Tell me all about it, Lace!" you encourage, grabbing a hold of her hand excitedly.
The blonde girl squeals before shuffling closer to you, pressing her knees against yours.
"Okay, so. Picture this. I'm at my gym, doing my usual routine. I'm wearing my super cute pink Lulu Lemon set, you know the one with the flowers?"
She waits for you to nod in affirmation before she continues.
"So, I accidentally drop a weight on the ground, and it makes the biggest noise. I'm super embarrassed, and I'm trying to pick it up, but it's so heavy. And then, the hottest guy I have ever seen appears. Like, seriously gorgeous."
As much as you despise the whole soulmate thing, you can't deny how happy Lacie seems. She's almost vibrating with it, bouncing up and down in her seat.
"He comes over and picks it up for me, sets in back on the rack. And then he introduces himself, and shakes my hand, and it happened."
"What was it like?" you smile, eager for her to carry on.
"Like fucking magic."
You've heard that before. A million times. From literally everyone. Surely it can't be that magical if billions of people have experienced it.
"Magic?" you prompt.
"It is indescribable, babe. It's like... it's like everything just falls into place. Like everything finally makes sense!"
She jumps out of her chair, hugging you tightly. She's practically sat on your lap in the coffee shop, but neither of you really care.
"So, what's his name? What's he like?"
"His name is Cameron. He's new in town, he just moved here for work. He's a personal trainer, so he's like, super fit. And gorgeous. Did I mention gorgeous?"
"Maybe once or twice," you laugh.
"I'm so happy," Lacie whispers, emotion choking her voice. "I can't believe it finally happened. This is the day I've been waiting for since I was a little girl."
You hug her tighter, and ignore the look you get from the barista.
"I love you," she declares, suddenly serious. "You know that me being Tethered now doesn't change that, right?"
"I know," you confirm. "I love you too, Lace. I'm really happy for you."
You genuinely mean it. Lacie has talked about meeting her soulmate every day since you met her in the 3rd grade. You may have never quite shared her enthusiasm, but you admire her passion. And you adore her, more than anyone.
"So, what now? Are you gonna get married tomorrow and run off into the sunset?"
"I'm choosing to ignore your sarcasm because I know you're using it as a coping mechanism," she tells you pointedly. "And I know that there's a tiny part of you that wishes you'd been Tethered already, so you don't have to deal with everyone talking to you about it."
Jackpot. She's read you like a book.
"No, we're not getting married tomorrow," she rolls her eyes before continuing, "but we are going on a real date tonight. We're gonna get dinner and get to know each other. Isn't this crazy? I'm going on a date with the guy I'm gonna be spending the rest of my life with!"
"That is kinda crazy, actually," you laugh. "What are you gonna wear?"
"It doesn't matter - we're going to be together forever anyway!"
You make Lacie promise to send you a picture of her outfit as you're leaving the coffee shop, which she agrees to with glee. On your way home, you pick up some of your Mom's favourite wine, and prepare yourself for another soulmate based conversation that will inevitably happen when you tell your parents the events of the day at dinner tonight.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"Hi, sweetheart!" your Dad beams as you step through the front door of your childhood home.
"Hey, Dad," you greet, allowing him to pull you in for a hug. "Where's Mom? I brought wine."
"Kitchen," he gestures with a nod of his head. "She's making that mango dessert you like."
Walking into your Mother's kitchen is like dipping your feet into a pool on a scorching hot day. The windows are propped open, curtains billowing softly in the wind. The ocean breeze drifts through the room, ruffling your Mom's dress and floating the hair away from her face. The evening sun beams in, illuminating the space with a golden glow. It smells like fresh fruit, mint, and salt water. It's a haven.
"Hi, Mama."
"Oh, my love! Just in time. I was about to call you to see if you were alright."
She makes her way over to you and kisses you on the head swiftly, before walking to the cabinet to grab wine glasses.
"Sorry I'm a little later than I said. I changed my outfit three times - it's warmer than I thought it was going to be."
"I know! Summer, finally. We've been waiting long enough."
She takes the bottle of wine from your hand and pours it into the glasses.
"You've poured four, Mama."
"Didn't your Dad tell you? Bucky's joining us for dinner."
"Oh. No, he didn't mention anything."
"He's back from his vacation. He promised he'd show us all of the pictures he took!"
She grabs the glasses and floats out of the room, leaving you alone in the kitchen, thoughts of Bucky Barnes swirling around like dust in the sunlight.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky.
Your Dad's best friend.
They met a few years ago, when Bucky moved to town. He said he was looking for something quieter, sick of city living. He wanted to slow down a bit, finally take a breath.
He was out for a run around town, getting his bearings, when he stopped your Dad on the driveway to ask about his car. They bonded over their love for motorcycles and vintage vehicles, and the rest is history.
Bucky's been a regular fixture in your life for so long, you can't remember a time before. All you know, is that it was probably a little more peaceful. His boyish charm is infectious, bringing out the youth in your Dad. They're like teenagers, when they're together. Long lost frat brothers, your Mom jokes.
She's got a soft spot for him. Most people do. It might have something to do with the fact he's devastatingly handsome.
It's no secret that Bucky Barnes is a ladies man. He is without even trying. He's charming, gorgeous, funny in all the right ways. He's mysterious, but not disarming. Tough, but not scary. Rebellious, but not a liability. He's a catch.
A catch, with a taste for beautiful women.
Your Dad always jokes that he's the towns most eligible bachelor. You can't count on two hands the amount of women you know that have dated him - but nothing seems to stick. He isn't Tethered, after all.
Some people choose not to date, if they haven't met their soulmate. They wait and wait, and when the time comes, they're complete. Others take pleasure in dating before it happens. Might as well make the most of the freedom, Bucky said once. You can't help but agree.
Might as well make the most of the freedom.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"Hey, buddy!" you hear from the hallway. You make your way out of the kitchen to be met with the sight of Bucky, sun-kissed and practically glowing. His hair has a few light streaks from the sun, and the faint freckles on his cheeks are more prominent now. His steel blue eyes meet yours, mischief rife in them.
"Hi, honey," he greets, draping an arm around your shoulders. He kisses you on the cheek, light stubble scratching your skin. You throw an arm around his back and look up at him.
"There's no way this tan is natural," you tease, nudging him slightly.
"It makes me even more gorgeous, doesn't it?" he jokes, winking at you. He squeezes your shoulder before letting go, grabbing a bottle of wine from his bag.
"I brought your favourite, Lori."
"So did I," you echo, laughing.
"Great minds, honey. Great minds!"
"You can never have too much wine," your Mom yells out from the kitchen doorway. "Bring it in here, Buck. I'll put it in the refrigerator."
"Yes ma'am," he obliges, making his way to her with a smile on his face.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"Guess what happened today," you begin, in between bites of your strawberry salad.
The three of them look at you intently, urging you to continue.
"Lacie got Tethered."
"How exciting!" your Mom squeals.
"That's a long time coming," Bucky chimes in. You look at him and smirk.
"Tell me about it."
"Here we go," your Dad smiles. "Our two anti soulmate protestors."
"Don't make it sound so political," Bucky laughs. "She's the only one that gets it."
"I've said it a thousand times, and I'll say it again. Just. You. Wait," your Mom lectures. "The two of you don't get it."
"Magic, fireworks, eternal love, blah blah blah. Trust me, I get it."
"She gets it," Bucky echoes. "And so do I. The Universe decides our fate, and we get no choice whatsoever. I don't believe in it, is all. I have no faith in the system. I should get to choose."
"But you feel like you are choosing," your Dad defends. "It didn't feel like it was being determined for me. It's hard to explain."
"It's just so... backwards," you justify. "I can't believe we live in a Universe where we have all the choices in the world, but don't get to choose the person we spend the rest of our lives with."
"It's worked out pretty well for us," your Mom smiles.
And it has. The first thing anyone notices when they meet your parents is that they are undeniably in love. You've never met two people more perfect for each other - which should solidify your belief in the Universe, really. But it doesn't. You can't explain where your lack of faith in it came from. It just appeared one day, and you haven't been able to shake it since. You're grateful every day to have two Tethered, happy, smitten parents. You've seen how hard it is for people with Untethered Mothers and Fathers. The judgment, the uncertainty, the hushed whispers. It sounds unbearable.
"Yes it did," your Dad confirms, shaking you from your thoughts. He reaches for your Mom's hand and kisses the back of it tenderly, eyes never once leaving hers. You look to Bucky next to you, who smiles at you gently. Feelings about soulmates aside, the both of you love these two people sat across the table with all your heart.
"Trust me, sweetheart," your Mom begins. "I know you're against the idea now - God knows I was the same at your age. But when it happens, you'll forget about all of your rebellion. You'll just be happy."
You nod in agreement, praying for the conversation to be over. As if he can read your mind, Bucky pipes up.
"Let me show you some pictures from Italy. I did promise I would."
You shoot him a grateful look before picking up your empty wine glass and making your way to the kitchen for a refill.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
The dining room is now lit solely by candlelight, wax dripping onto the white lace tablecloth like condensation on a cold glass. The sun fell asleep hours ago, the four of you enjoying each others company with no regard for time.
"Oh, shit. It's late," your Dad says suddenly.
"You got big late night plans?" you tease.
"We have Clara and Mike's wedding at the weekend, so we're flying out tomorrow. We should probably get some sleep, so we're not exhausted."
Your Mom rises from her chair and kisses you on the head, before grabbing the dessert bowls from the table. Your Dad helps, smiling every time his hand brushes hers accidentally.
"Thanks for coming, kiddo. Your place next week?"
"Of course. I think I'll try that salmon recipe you sent me."
"Can't wait," your Dad assures you, giving you a one sided hug. He squeezes you once before letting you go to grab your shoes.
You can hear your parents saying their goodbyes to Bucky as you tie your laces, smoothing out the skirt of your dress as you stand. They all join you in the hallway, Bucky leaning over to grab his jacket from behind you. Fuck, he smells good.
"Have a great time at the wedding, you guys. Send me pictures, please!" you say as you hug your Mom goodbye.
"We will! Drive home safe, the both of you!"
They shut the door softly, leaving you and Bucky stood on the porch. The evening air chills your bare legs, salt in the breeze sticking to your lips.
"Where's your car?" he asks, looking around.
"Oh, I walked. It was a nice day, and I'm trying to be a little greener. Save the planet, and all," you chuckle.
"You want a ride, then?" he offers, leaning against the side of his truck.
"Uh - maybe," you hesitate, shifting your weight from foot to foot. You feel antsy, for some reason. There's a buzz flowing through your veins, making you a little restless.
"Maybe?" he smirks.
"I just, I'm not sure if I wanna go home yet. It might be that I've had three glasses of wine, but I'm kinda... jittery? Think I need to burn off some energy. Maybe I'll walk home."
"Like hell you will," he grumbles.
You quirk a brow in confusion.
"It's dark, and all those college kids are in town on their break. I don't trust 'em."
You fight to keep the grin off your face. You weirdly like it when Bucky gets protective. He's always so calm, so relaxed - it takes a lot to rile him up. He looks hot with a clenched jaw.
"Why don't we go somewhere?"
"Where?" you ask tentatively.
"I don't know," he thinks for a second. "How about the beach?"
You smile, gazing at him with a twinkle in your eyes.
"I fucking love the beach."
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
The ocean waves break the shore steadily, the repetitive pattern calming you both. You're sat on the sand, grains slipping through your hands where you're pouring it out through your fingers. The light of the moon reflects off the surface of the sea, illuminating the abandoned cove. It's just you, Bucky, and the night sky.
The alcohol in your system has evened you out, warm buzz keeping you sheltered from the chill. Bucky's stretched out next to you, strong arms folded underneath his head. His shirt rides up slightly, exposing a slither of sun kissed skin. You pretend not to notice his Adonis belt, or the little trail of hair that leads down into his waistband.
The silence is easy, comfortable. You don't get to hang out like this often, just the two of you. It's nice.
A notification on your phone breaks through the tranquility. You both flinch.
"Sorry," you mutter, checking the screen. "It's Lacie, telling me about her perfect date."
He chuckles lowly at your tone, sitting up to look at you.
"This is hard for you, isn't it?" he asks. "You hate the whole soulmate thing, but you like seeing her happy."
Bingo. It's like he's read your mind.
"I don't know why I hate it so much" you confess quietly. "It's a part of life. I can't avoid it. I just think - what if... what if I'm like, the exception, or something? What if I never meet my soulmate - or - what if I meet them when I'm like, seventy? That happens, you know! And then I'll be fucking cursed to spend my entire life feeling like this."
"And what is this?"
"Hopeless. That's what this is. I just feel pretty fucking hopeless."
You're not sure why you're baring your soul to Bucky tonight. You could blame the wine, but you know that's not what it is. Maybe it's because he seems to be the only one that understands.
"Me too," he whispers.
You whip your head around to stare at him in shock. He laughs at the look on your face, and continues.
"You're young - you have time. I'm forty in a couple of years. Every single one of my friends is married to their soulmate - except for me."
You bite at your lip nervously, but refuse to tear your eyes away from his steel blue ones. His face is lit by the glow from the moon, and it takes your breath away for a second. He looks almost ethereal.
"You always act so... unbothered. I didn't realise... I guess I just, I didn't -" you try to gather your thoughts before continuing. "This fucking sucks, huh?"
He laughs with his whole chest, and you're convinced the sound is so special, so rare, that you should bottle it. Sell it as medicine. It'd cure anything, you're sure of it.
"Yeah, it does," he agrees with a chuckle. "It's the waiting around that's the worst part. The unknown. It could be minutes, it could be decades. I just don't know."
"At least for now, we have each other," you joke.
"Every cloud has a silver lining, huh?" he teases, nudging you with his shoulder.
You allow your weight to press into his side a little, leaning in. He's warm, and he's familiar, and in this moment, he understands you better than anyone else in the world.
"We'll be okay, honey," he murmurs. "It'll all work out the way it's supposed to."
You close your eyes, and allow his words and the breaking waves to calm your nerves. Bucky wraps an arm around you, and all the tension melts from your muscles.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
You're not sure if it's the honest conversation, or the brisk ocean breeze, but you've sobered up in record time. Your body registers this, and sends a shiver down your spine.
"You cold?" Bucky asks you. "You wanna go home?"
"Not yet," you whisper. "Not yet."
He shrugs off his worn brown leather jacket and slips it over your shoulders. It smells so strongly of him that it makes you dizzy. Bucky settles back down in his original place, returning his arm to where it was draped over you. His rough fingertips rub patterns into the material that now covers your arms, and you wish, for a fleeting moment, that it was your bare skin instead.
"You been working on anything new recently?" he enquires in a hushed tone, careful not to ruin the atmosphere.
"I made a damn good batch of macarons yesterday," you reply, beaming smile etched across your face. "Raspberry and lemon. I'll bring you some, next time I pass the Garage. You're gonna love them."
"You know, I think the only reason I ever get Mechanic of the Month is because you bring by all of your sweet treats."
You laugh melodiously, and the sound makes Bucky's heart stutter in his chest without warning.
"Happy to be of service," you tease. "I take requests, too, if you ever want something specific. Just let me know."
"You're the best, sugar."
You sink into Bucky's hold a little, daring to rest your head on his shoulder. When he doesn't stop you, you exhale, and relax even more.
"Are you working tomorrow?" he asks.
"Nope. You?"
"Nah. I'm going sailing, finally. It's been way too fuckin' long," he grumbles. "Your Dad's usually my right hand man, but he'll be in Ohio. You wanna come?"
The idea of laying on the deck of a boat in the blazing sunshine with a shirtless Bucky Barnes sounds like heaven. Who could say no to an offer like that?
"Yeah, of course. I'll bring a picnic, if you like. It's the least I can do."
"Sounds perfect," he replies, squeezing your shoulder.
Suddenly, he rises to his feet, extending a hand out to you. You grab it, and he pulls you up, the both of you shaking sand off yourselves.
"It's late, and dark, and a little cold. You ready to go?"
You nod your head, and make your way over to his truck, ignoring the heat that blooms over your chest when he opens the passenger door for you before his own.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"Thank you, for tonight," you say as he pulls up in front of your apartment building.
"Thank you," he replies, killing the engine. "It's nice to have you back, you know. Wondered if you were gonna finish college and stay out there in California. Thought we might not see you again."
He almost sounds... relieved. The idea that he might have missed you if you didn't return effects you more than it should.
"I liked it there, but... I don't know. My family's here. I'm only twenty three. I've got time to move around the country. I missed this place too much when I was away."
"Never thought I'd hear you say that," he chuckles.
"I know, trust me. They do say absence makes the heart grow fonder."
"Yeah, they say a lot of fuckin' things," he jokes.
Bucky swings his door open, hopping down from the drivers seat. He makes his way over to your side, holding out a hand so you can jump out.
"Careful," he warns. "It's higher than it looks."
You grab his hand, and step onto the metal sill. Your foot slips slightly, sending you tumbling down and forward, out of the truck. Luckily, Bucky catches you, one hand in yours, other on your hip.
"Woah, easy. You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm good," you breathe.
He places his hands on your cheeks and cradles your face, searching for any signs of distress. You place your palms over his, silently reassuring him.
And then, it happens.
Warm, golden, molten electricity surges through your veins, lighting up each and every one of your nerve endings. Your surroundings explode into glorious technicolour, everything suddenly brighter and more vibrant. It feels like your heart is being ripped out of your chest, only to be replaced by one that beats in a slightly different rhythm. There's flowers blooming in your ribcage, new life happening inside of you. You catch eyes with Bucky, expecting to see his stormy blue ones looking back at you. Instead, all you see is your future.
Vivid, flashing images of Bucky Barnes fill your mind, each one of them tinted with a warm, rosy hue. You feel like you're being reinvented. Your skin is alive, hyperaware of the way Bucky's palms are still gently cupping your cheeks. Your fingertips tingle with anticipation where they rest on his, itching to touch every inch of him. You feel as if the oxygen has been stolen from your lungs, and replaced with love.
Your knees are the first to buckle, the weight of the moment taking you down. You hit the ground, and so does Bucky, his palms not once leaving your face. You're both kneeling on the warm concrete, ocean waves providing a distant soundtrack. Blood is rushing in your ears, and you wonder for a second if you're about to pass out. You squeeze Bucky's hands so hard, it's a miracle you don't break his fingers. He squeezes back, eyes locked on one another.
After what feels like an eternity, you both break out of your reverie. You lean forward, resting your forehead against Bucky's, both of you panting.
You're trying to catch your breath unsuccessfully. You move one of your hands to rest on Bucky's chest, right on his heart. You swear the steady beat of it spells out your name.
He mirrors you, and moves his own hand to rest above your frantic heart, the other still glued to your cheek. You both breathe, in and out, trying to match each other. When you finally do, it's as if time stops. It's just you and Bucky. One heartbeat. One soul.
You break away from him to look into his eyes again. They look different, you think. He looks different.
He gazes back at you, cheeks flushed and chest heaving. The moonlight dances off your faces, illuminating the moment both your lives changed forever.
"It's you," he breathes in disbelief.
A laugh escapes your chest, surprising you both. He chuckles with you, and before you know it, the both of you are in hysterics, sitting on the sidewalk at three in the morning.
"Of course it's me," you giggle. "The two people that hate soulmates, Tethered together. You couldn't write it."
Bucky grins at you, clutching at his stomach.
You both take a breath, and realise your surroundings. Bucky gets up first, heaving you up by your arms. He towers over you, suddenly close. Not close enough, you decide. Never close enough.
You lunge forward and crash your lips to his. Bucky instinctively wraps one arm around your back, moving his other hand to hold you by the back of your neck. He tastes like salt and spearmint and every kiss for the rest of your life.
Bucky presses himself into you, attempting to tangle your bodies together. He wants to feel every inch of you against his skin, willing you to come closer. He aches to climb into you, sew himself into your ribcage. He'd be content to live there, beating your heart, forever.
You whine, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, exploring eagerly. You tilt your head back, and fist your hands into his shirt, plastering yourself to his front. He shoves his thigh in between your legs, the rough denim a welcome contrast to your soft skin. You buck your hips forward, and the friction is so delicious it makes you dizzy. You've never been kissed like this. It's almost feral. You're both surrendering to your fates, giving in to the animalistic urges coursing through you.
A seagull caws on a nearby street lamp, and the sound makes you both jump. You suddenly realise your scenario. Your Dad's best friend, who also happens to be your soulmate, has you pressed against his truck in the street, kissing you like he's running out of air and you're his only oxygen source. If it goes any further, you'll both get arrested for public indecency.
"Fuck, sugar," he murmurs against your mouth. "My pretty girl. My honey."
"My soulmate," you whisper.
The reality of it comes crashing down like a tsunami, drenching the both of you.
Bucky kisses you again, gentler this time. The tenderness makes you want to cry.
"What do we do now?" you mumble, fear coating your voice.
He senses your trepidation instantly. He feels it, actually, right in the front of his chest. It's like you suddenly share one body. There's no guessing, anymore. He knows exactly how you feel.
He takes a deep breath, trying to settle his building anxiety. He knows that if he stays calm, you'll stay calm. That's how Tethering works, right? He has to keep it together for the both of you, despite the panic that's rising in him, vibrating in his bones.
"How about... how about we both go to bed, get some sleep - and then we go sailing, later on today, just like we planned? And no matter what, we take everything one step at a time."
"One step at a time," you repeat, attempting to pacify you both.
"We'll figure it out," he reassures. "I know we will."
You find the will to step apart, which proves harder than you thought. It's like Bucky's an anchor - fastening you to peace, to happiness, to serenity. The more distance you put between your bodies, the more unsettled you feel. When you're not touching him, it's as if everything becomes unsteady, more difficult. You feel like you're on a rogue sailboat, battling the waves, threatened to be thrown overboard. Bucky is your lifevest, your lighthouse in the dark night. You're not sure how you're supposed to live your life any more than two feet away from him at all times.
You breathe, and smooth down your dress, running your fingers through your hair. You reach out and adjust Bucky's shirt where it's been wrinkled due to your tight grip.
"Goodnight, sweetheart," he murmurs, fingers tangling around your own.
"Goodnight, Buck," you echo.
He leans in to press a chaste kiss to your lips, savouring the taste of your cherry lip balm. He wraps his arms around you, unable to resist. Bucky breathes you in deeply, smiling uncontrollably. Nudging your nose with his, he murmurs gently against your mouth.
"My honey girl."
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tag list <3
@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @tilltheendofthelinepal9950 @val-writesstuff @t-t-hello @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @myloveniall @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @floralwsloki @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara @alesabisou @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @pedropascalsleftfoot @cremebruleequeen @ladifreakingda @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @evan-peters-wife @llamazarecoolaf @ace-27749 @hinata7346
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lovebugism · 3 months
Note
Im a very indecisive person but I guess I'll go with “Surprise, I have feelings and you just hurt them.” with Eddie, if you have any inspiration for this prompt 💕
ty for requesting!! — you get mean when you like someone, so eddie thinks you hate him (grump!reader, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, shameless succession reference, 1.9k)
“Please, tell me you’re joking,” you mumble through the melting vanilla shake on your tongue.
Robin grins at you across the table and shakes her head. “Nope,” she says, popping the p. “You are officially looking at Vicki Carmichael’s latest odyssey.”
You and Eddie look over your shoulder at Steve. He stands at the front counter and fumbles with the straw dispenser — hitting the lever repeatedly, with an increasingly rougher touch when nothing comes out. He flounders when they all spill out at once. 
He’s lucky he’s so pretty.
“Wait, I’m confused,” Eddie announces from beside you after stealing a sip of your milkshake. He squints and fights off a brain freeze. “Why didn’t he just tell us? He’s screwing the hottest girl in town— it feels like something he’d brag about.”
“I’m sitting right here,” you scoff, mostly kidding.
“‘Cause he knew you guys would totally ream him for it,” Robin answers and pinches fry crumbs into her mouth. Through a mouthful of them, she says, “It’s not like you’re usually supportive about this kinda stuff.”
“I’m all for Steve being a slut, okay?” you defend with your hands up in surrender. “But I do draw the line at my best friend fucking the girl who bullied me in high school.”
“What’d she do?” Eddie asks. You can’t tell if he really cares or if he just wants something new to laugh at you for, but you decide to humor him anyway.
“She cut out the boobs of my gym shirt before class because she knew if I dressed out again, I was getting detention,” you explain, smiling when it makes the table laugh. “I had to run the mile with my bright pink sports bra showing, but at least my record was clean.”
“What are you guys talking about?” Steve wonders aloud when he returns to the table, carrying the only straw that hadn’t fallen to the floor. He slides into the booth next to Robin and looks at the three of you expectantly.
“Nothing.” the brunette girl chirps.
“You,” Eddie deadpans.
You squint. “Real smooth, Munson.”
“Wait, what?”
Eddie laughs. “I mean, Vicki Carmichael? Seriously?”
Steve gapes at Robin, features yawned in betrayal. “You told them?” 
The girl shrugs, taking a big bite of her burger and playing coy.
“She’s hot and everything, but she’s really not your type, man.”
Steve’s eyes narrow across the table. “What’s that supposed to mean, freak?”
“She likes bad boys,” you answer for him, shrugging like it’s obvious. “You know, the Billy Hargrove types. With tattoos and leather jackets and long hair. And, no offense, but you’re the furthest thing from that.”
“I think you just described me, doll,” Eddie laughs.
“Weren’t you screwing around with Billy Hargrove a couple months ago?” Steve wonders with a knowing, honeyed squint.
“Shut up, Harrington,” you bite.
Eddie grins with all his teeth, pink and boyish and proud. “Oh, so you’re screwing guys that are just like me now, huh? I’m flattered.”
“If anything, you’re the dollar store version of Billy Hargrove, Munson,” you retort with a roll of your eyes, turning your attention to the milkshake in front of you. You stab holes in the thick ice cream and try to ignore the sudden attention.
All the eyes on you make you nervous. You were never good at being the butt of the joke. ‘Cause when you get embarrassed, you get mean. Like some kinda hurt dog.
“You have everything but the looks.”
“Fuck off,” Eddie snorts and snatches the frosted glass away from you. He slides it over to his side of the table and sips from the straw that has your lipstick stained on the tip of it. “You can’t insult me—”
“Can’t I?”
“—Not when you’re fucking a carbon copy of me,” he scoffs and tries to ignore the jealousy burning wildfires behind his ribcage.
“He’s nothing like you,” you insist.
“He’s exactly like me. Just blonde. And watered down,” Eddie argues, face twisted with disgust. He smiles when it makes everyone else laugh but you. “I mean, it’s kinda sad, actually. I turned you down, so you had to try it out with Hargrove?”
“I didn’t try it, first of all, I fucking conquered it,” you retort, not exactly joking but grinning when it makes Steve and Robin chuckle to themselves. “And second of all, I never wanted you, Munson. So there was never anything to turn down.”
Your words sting somewhere deep in his chest. Like there’s a knife lodged deep in his heart that aches every time he breathes. He doesn’t know what to do with this hurt other than hurt you back. 
“So that night you told me you liked me after my show— that was all a lie?” he asks, smirking to hide his ache.
Robin’s eyes go wide as she bites into her burger. “What is this? A sleepover?” she scoffs with her mouth full. “Why is everyone telling each other’s secrets?”
“You started it, Buckley,” Steve quips before stealing one of her fries.
Your answer is immediate. A total lie, but instant nonetheless. No one’s gonna out-insult you. Rarely ever do you come out of petty arguments without having drawn the most blood.
“Yeah! You bombed, and I felt bad, and I wanted to make you feel better,” you confess with a sinister giggle. “What I really wanted to say is that I wish your mom had given birth to a can opener because at least then it might be good at something.”
Eddie meets your smirk with a glower, something genuinely pained that makes your chest sting. You refuse to show it, though. Not even when he slides out of the booth. “Yeah, okay. Fuck you,” he mumbles to himself as he goes.
“What?” you scoff a cynical laugh.
“C’mon,” Steve murmurs quietly to you. “That was a little too far.”
“Oh, so he can make fun of me, but I can make fun of him?”
“It’s different. You know that.”
You roll your eyes even though you know he’s right. Eddie’s a clown, but he means well. He’s a dumbass because he doesn’t know how to be serious about anything, but he’s hardly ever outright mean. 
You’re made of something more hardened than that. You set fires all around you, and only when a person walks through it do you know they really care. You don’t mean to be so mean half the time. It’s a defense mechanism more than anything. A time-bomb you never really learned to defuse.
“It was a joke, Eds!” you shout as he storms the short distance to the entrance of the diner.
“Well, surprise. I have feelings—” he grins, though there’s little emotion behind it. The door dings over his head when he shoves it open. He reaches for the crushed packet of cigarettes in his pocket. “—And you just hurt them.”
The diner feels strangely silent with him gone. The air feels noticeably heavy, too. 
You reach for the milkshake he left on his side of the table and slide it audibly back over to you. You don’t sip from it, though. Your stomach’s too much in knots now. You just busy your fidgeting hands with it, holding the frosted glass in your delicate palms until they ache.
“Stop staring at me,” you mumble, not meeting the silent looks Robin and Steve give you across the booth.
“Go talk to him before you give him a complex.”
“Yeah,” the boy hums with a knowing smile. “Go kiss and make up.”
“Shut up,” you bite with a scrunched-together face. You deflate with a sigh. “Fine. I’ll go— but not because you told me to.”
You hear them laugh quietly to themselves as you walk out behind Eddie. 
He leans against the corner of the old building and blows smoke from his lungs. He looks relatively unfazed despite the circumstances. You swallow down the worry that you’re embarrassing yourself by being out here at all.
Your shoes scuff against the sidewalk as you near him. “Eds—”
“I’m fine,” he interjects before you can say anything real. “You don’t need to apologize.”
“Well, it’s too late. Steve and Robin already kicked me out here, so…” You trail off in a monotone, despite having already declared that you were out here not because you were told to be. He doesn’t need to know that, though. “…I’m sorry.”
He takes a puff of the cigarette between his fingers, then shrugs on the exhale. “Okay.”
“The can opener thing was stupid— I mean, it wasn’t nice either, but it was a really dumb joke,” you ramble without taking a single breath. You cross your arms over yourself in a makeshift shield. “You didn’t even bomb that night. At your show or whatever. I lied. You were… You were actually really good.”
Eddie turns his head slowly. He blinks at you with chocolate eyes sparkling with amusement.
You cower under his stare. “What?”
“I know what you’re doing,” he insists with a crooked smile.
“What?” you repeat, forcing a laugh.
“You’re fucking with me,” he chuckles and brings the cig back to his mouth. He mumbles through the stick. “But it’s cool, you know? I can cope.”
“I’m being serious, Eddie,” you argue. And then, when your chest starts to sting, it becomes impossible not to make a joke. “I think you’re a… super-talented superstar—”
“You’re such a fucking bitch,” he interjects with a sincere laugh, like honey and gunpowder.
You giggle, and the foreign tension ebbs.
“I’m just kidding,” you assure and prop your back against the wall beside him. “Well, I mean, I’m not, but I…” You stammer when you can’t find the words. You gesture wildly with your hands. “I do think you’re talented, it’s just— It’s hard for me to be serious, okay? But I am sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he assures, tossing the cigarette to the ground and snuffing the ash with his sneaker. “Trust me. I know what you mean.”
You swallow hard. “And I wasn’t… What I said to you that night, in your van after the show… I wasn’t lying.”
Eddie’s head snaps up. He blinks at you with a gaping gaze, even though you’re not looking at him to see it. You’re much more focused on the dumpster across the street, lest you meet his eyes and get embarrassed all over again. 
This is the realest you’ve ever been with him, you think — since you told him you liked him and he all but turned you down.
Being vulnerable has been impossible since then.
“Then why’d you never talk to me about it again?” he asks, then stammers over himself. “You acted like it never even happened— I thought I fucking— like, dreamt it or some shit.”
“Because you didn’t say anything back! I thought you didn’t feel the same way!”
“I was just— I was just shocked. You always act like you hate me!”
“Because I like you, you idiot!” you blurt before you mean to, then huff with impatience at yourself. “Fuck. Sorry. I don’t know… I don’t know how to be nice to people I like.”
“It’s okay,” Eddie laughs, shifting on the brick wall until his shoulder rubs against it. He looks down at you like he’s seeing you for the very first time — glittering with the hope of finally getting close to you, of finally having something real.
“Don’t laugh!” you argue. “I’m trying really hard here!”
“I know,” he murmurs lowly, leaning in until you can taste the nicotine on his breath. In a honeyed tone, he confesses, “It’s a good thing I like you mean, then, huh?”
Your heart lurches into your throat. He smirks when you freeze, and knocks his shoulder against yours when he heads back into the diner.
The game of cat and mouse continues.
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hotvintagepoll · 11 days
Text
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Propaganda
Ava Gardner (The Killers, The Barefoot Contessa)— She's so goddamn hot. Her and Frank Sinatra could've sandwiched me and I would've thanked them for the privilege
Anna May Wong (The Thief of Bagdad, Shanghai Express)—Wong was the first Chinese American movie star, arguably the first Asian woman to make it big in American films. Though the racism of the time often forced her into stereotypical roles, awarded Asian leading roles to white actors in yellowface, and prohibited on-screen romance between actors of different races, she delivered powerful and memorable performances. When Hollywood bigotry got to be too much, she made movies in Europe. Wong was intellectually curious, a fashion icon, and a strong advocate for authentic Asian representation in cinema. And, notably for the purposes of this tournament, absolutely gorgeous.
This is round 5 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Ava Gardner:
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Ava Gardner is one of my favorite actresses of all time. Although a lot of her roles in movies are about her being beautiful and nothing else, there are some films where her acting truly shines.
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Gifset: https://www.tumblr.com/pelopides/721438308726603776/ava-gardner-as-pandora-reynolds-pandora-and-the
Gifset 2: https://www.tumblr.com/portraitoflestatonfire/731899355804598272/if-the-loustat-reunion-doesnt-look-like-this-then
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HER FACE. LOOK AT IT. Also was a life long supporter of civil rights and a member of the NAACP, had lots of fun love affairs with other stars, bullfighters, married several times but was also happy in between to just have lovers and was unapologetically herself.
I literally gasp every time I see her.
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Between 1942 and 1964, Ava Gardner was credited in no less 50 films, and is still considered by some to be the most beautiful actresses that ever graced the silver screen. Despite life-long insecurities regarding her talent as an actress, she weathered public scandal, industry hostility, and outright condemnation by the Catholic Church with fearless grace. She would later in life talk candidly about the reality and pain of living through two (studio approved!!) abortions during her short marriage to Frank Sinatra, and while the two of them could not make their relationship work, they remained in each other’s lives for nearly 30 years. She would forever describe herself as a small-town girl who just got lucky, but always felt like a beautiful outsider.
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Really genuinely one of the most beautiful human beings I have ever seen. An autodidact. Had amazing chemistry with Gregory Peck to the point where I do think about watching On The Beach again sometimes because they're so good together even though that movie did destroy me. Was a great femme fatale in many movies.
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Anna May Wong propaganda:
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"She so so gorgeous!! Due to Hollywood racism she was pretty limited in the roles she got to play but even despite that she’s so captivating and deserves to be known as a leading lady in her own right!! When she’s on screen in Shanghai Express I can’t look away, which is saying something because Marlene Dietrich is also in that film."
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"SHE IS ON THE BACK OF QUARTERS also she was very smart and able to speak multiple languages and is a fashion icon on top of the acting/singing"
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"Paved the way for Asian American actresses AND TOTAL HOTTIE!!! She broke boundaries and made it her mission to smash stereotypes of Asian women in western film (at the time, they were either protrayed them as delicate and demure or scheming and evil). In 1951, she made history with her television show The Gallery of Madame Liu-Tsong, the first-ever U.S. television show starring an Asian-American series lead (paraphrased from Wikipedia). Also, never married and rumor has it that she had an affair with Marlene Dietrich. We love a Controversial Queen!"
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"She's got that Silent Era smoulder™ that I think transcends the very stereotypical roles in which she was typically cast. Also looks very hot smouldering opposite Marlene Dietrich in "Shanghai Express"; there's kiss energy there."
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"Hot as hell and chronically overlooked in her time, she's truly phenomenal and absolutely stunning"
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"A story of stardom unavoidably marred by Hollywood racism; Wong's early-career hype was significantly derailed by the higher-up's reluctance to have an Asian lead, and things only got worse when the Hayes code came down and she suddenly *couldn't* be shown kissing a white man--even if that white man was in yellowface. After being shoved into the Dragon Lady role one too many times, she took her career to other continents for many years. Still, she came back to America eventually, being more selective in her roles, speaking out against Asian stereotypes, and in the midst of all of this finding the time to be awarded both the title of "World's Best Dressed Woman" by Mayfair Mannequin Society of New York and an honorary doctorate by Peking University."
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"Incredible beauty, incredible actress, incredible story."
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"-flapper fashion ICON. look up her fits please <3 -rumors of lesbianism due to her Close Friendships with marlene dietrich & cecil cunningham, among others -leveraged her star power to criticize the racist depictions of Chinese and Asian characters in Hollywood, as well as raise money and popular support for China & Chinese refugees in the 1930s and 40s. -face card REFUSED to decline"
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harryslittlefreakk · 5 months
Text
the pact
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summary: you and harry made a childhood pact to marry if you were both still single when he reached 30. now that his big birthday is approaching, you find out whether your friendship (and your pact) have stood the test of time
warnings: mostly fluff, some smut :)
wordcount: 6k
a/n: i actually really like this one. it’s not proofread yet as i was so eager to get it up lol. hope you enjoy!
my masterlist can be found here! happy reading 🫶🏼
From the second you’d received the invitation, you were buzzing with a giddy nervousness. It had been years since you’d seen Harry, though Anne and Gemma were always so quick to share what he was up to. You’d followed his career silently for 13 years, still bumping into him every few years when Anne hosted Boxing Day, or he happened to be in town for your family’s annual summer barbecues. In your mind, he was still the cheeky, dimpled little lad you’d hide under the dining room table with, imagining you were explorers of far away lands.
But Harry wasn’t the young boy you’d chased after in your childhood anymore, the teenager you looked out for when you stuck your head over the garden fence to call your sister home. He wasn’t the handsome young man you’d spent countless hours swooning over with your friends in the bakery after school. Harry was a global sensation, the world’s sweetheart. You weren’t sure he’d even recognise you, a forgotten reminder of much simpler days.
Growing up next door to Harry hadn’t come without its challenges. You’d lost your childhood best friend seemingly overnight once One Direction formed, his life suddenly busy with meetings, tours and interviews. Anne still welcomed you with open arms, but her house felt a little too cold for you with his presence haunting the walls, memories etched into every surface of the house. You’d still hang out in his bedroom sometimes, his band posters and drawings left collecting dust in a lifeless room. When girls from school learned of your connection to him, they’d befriend you and treat you like the hottest new thing until you refused to give over any information. He was your Harry, your long-gone games and silly memories something you held close to your heart. It soon seemed easier to let him go altogether, move on to a new chapter, stop waiting for your best friend to appear again.
Still, you were glad to be able to support Gemma on one of her biggest days. She’d become such a regular feature in your household, she felt like family herself. Your parents had been more overjoyed at the news of her impending nuptials than any of yours or your sister’s recent achievements. They loved Gemma like their own, their ‘extra daughter’, as your dad called her. You knew this was as big a moment for them as it was for Anne, having watched Gemma grow from the tiny dark-haired girl your sister had raved about on her first day of school, to a woman about to become a wife.
Standing outside of the venue now, a beautiful old church overlooking the peaceful tides below, yours and Harry’s childhood pact suddenly hit you. You were laying on a blanket in your garden, tops of your heads pressed together as you made out shapes in the clouds above. “I will never get married,” you told Harry. Your parents had had their wedding album out that day, sharing stories with Anne and Robin. You squirmed and grimaced every time they spoke about it, never understanding how any girl would willingly share their life with a boy. “Yuck,” he squeaked from next to you. “Me either. I don’t ever want to live with a stinky girl!” You giggled together, the cool evening breeze washing over you. “Maybe, maybe I might one day though. When I’m really old and lonely.”
“Old like my parents?” you asked him. “Even olderer than that. Like 30.” You gasped, quickly trying to count on your fingers. “That’s really really old. Maybe we can be married when we’re 30.” Harry ran inside when you said this, leaving you chasing after him once again. He grabbed a napkin from the kitchen counter and scribbled on it in felt tip,
‘I ____ will marry Harry when we’re really super old’
“You have to put your name on that line or it’s not real,” Harry told you, handing the blue felt tip to you. You both signed your initials underneath, and proudly went to show your parents. They’d fallen about in laughter when you told them, promising to hold you to your pact. You hadn’t seen the napkin since that day, and you were sure it was long forgotten by everybody, especially Harry. You felt a small twinge in your chest at this, suddenly wishing you were anywhere but here.
“Hey Boo, you okay? Anne wants to get some pictures of us all together before the ceremony,” your dad told you, leading you through the crowd of guests. Boo was the only nickname that had ever stuck for you, starting when you and Harry decided to go as Boo and Sully from Monsters Inc. one Halloween. You’d originally wanted to be Mike, but with your big brown eyes shielded by little bangs and your signature pigtails, everyone persuaded you to be Boo. You’d outgrown almost everything else from childhood, but Boo was stuck with you for life.
“Oh Y/N, you look lovely darling,” Anne cooed as you came into her sight. She pulled you in for a hug, kissing your cheek as she pulled away. You had to admit, you did scrub up well. It was a long time since you’d really made the effort to look properly nice, still caught in the comfort of your pandemic wardrobe of leggings and sweatshirts. The olive-green maxi dress you’d settled on hugged your body in all the right places, a thick band of material draping over your chest and the tops of your arms, showcasing your toned shoulders. You’d always weirdly liked your shoulders and neck, an odd area to be proud of but it was by far your favourite part of your body. Your hair was scraped back in a sleek bun, tiny wisps framing your fresh face. “Gem and Sophia are still inside, they’ll be out in a minute. Gem’s so excited to see you, it’s been so long since we’ve all been together,” Anne gushed, running a hand up the outside of your arm.
She had such a delicate, warm presence, it was no wonder she’d raised two children as incredible as Harry and Gemma. Anne had been an extension of your own mum as you grew up, small traces of her as much as part of you as they were her own kids. She’d talked you through boys and heartbreaks, been there to wave you off to your school prom, one of the proudest faces in the crowd when you graduated university. She’d been stationed on the garden patio alongside your mum at every birthday party, the two women nattering away as they guarded the wine.
Gemma stepped out of the door, pulling you out of your daydream down memory lane. Your jaw went slack when you saw her, she was positively radiant. Her dress was a dainty satin, huge bishop sleeves adorning her arms and a beautiful full skirt, flowing around her petite frame in the gentle seaside breeze. Your mum rushed over to her first, smoothing a loving hand down the front of her skirt. “You look beautiful Gem,” she told her, tears glistening on her bottom eyelashes. Hugs and pleasantries were exchanged throughout the group, shoulders bumping gaily as you moved around. One thing was still missing though - Harry. You knew he’d never miss his sisters wedding, though he was absolutely nowhere to be seen. Just as you were about to ask, you saw him. With a deep brown suit jacket draped across his body, matching slacks hanging loose on his muscular thighs. A white vest hung low on his chest, his inked swallows sitting pretty on tanned skin.
You knew how good he looked these days, of course. Your tiktok had been full of videos of him performing, Anne’s house littered with framed photos. But seeing him in real life lit a fire in your belly. He’d always been pretty, green eyes and curls enough to charm any woman, but now he was hot. A great, big hunk of sexy man. He approached your parents first, laughing as your dad chose to forgo Harry’s outstretched hand, pulling him into a hug instead. “Here’s our not-so-little superstar,” he smiled, ruffling Harry’s messy curls. Harry pressed a kiss into your mums cheek, exchanging a quick but heartfelt hello. His eyes caught on yours as he glanced across the courtyard, your brown eyes still crinkled as you smiled, in exactly the same way they had when you were younger. “Little Boo!” he chuckled, striding towards you. His strong arms wrapped you into a firm cuddle, his musky scent spilling into your pores. “You look incredible,” he whispered into your ear, voice raspy and low. It wasn’t long before Anne was ushering you all into place to take some pictures, cutting yours and Harry’s catch up short. “Come and find me later,” he told you as you beamed for the camera.
With the ceremony long-finished, the party had spilled out of the church hall and onto the grounds outside. You’d danced, mingled and laughed for as long as you could before needing a minute of quiet. Brushing your hand across your mum’s back, you told her you were going for a little walk and would be back soon. You slipped out of the open doors, yanking your heels off in search of some quick relief. You spotted a little wooden bench overlooking the sea, a little way away from the other guests. A great oak tree shielded it from the warm evening sun, providing you just the right amount of peace.
“Thought you were gonna find me,” a voice suddenly came from behind you. You turned around to see Harry approaching your private spot, a sparkling glass in each hand. “Hey,” you smiled. “Just needed a little bit of quiet. Come sit,” you patted the bench beside you. Harry handed you one of the glasses as he sat down, murmuring, “saw you heading over here. Thought I’d bring you a little tipple.” You cheersed, the clinking of glasses cutting through a heavy silence. “How have you been?” he asked you, shifting his body slightly to face you.
“Been good, H. Thank you for asking. Work’s going well, was a bit slow with the pandemic and all but life’s been kind to me recently. I don’t really need to ask you, do I?” you laughed, suddenly shy in his presence. “No, I guess not,” he answered, smiling kindly at you. You settled back into an uncomfortable silence, not really sure how to talk to one another anymore.
“Mum told me you moved to London,” Harry said, seemingly desperate to pierce the awkwardness hanging over you both. “Yeah, I did,” you told him, explaining how Holmes Chapel had started to feel just a little too small, a little too cut off from the rest of the world. “I can understand that,” he told you, chuckling. You ran through the usual questions, telling him about your work as an illustrator, your little flat off of Finchley high road, the couple of girls from school you’d kept in touch with. “I can’t believe you live so close to me,” he gasped. “Mum could never remember what area you lived in, if I’d known you were only down the road we could have reconnected long before now,” Harry told you. You let out an involuntary scoff at this, telling him, “you know where to find me, H. You know your mum has my number, you know where I’ll be every Christmas and birthday. If you really wanted to reconnect it would have happened long before now.” Your words tumbled out, years of one-sided hurt and rejection suddenly pushing to the surface. Harry took a big sip of his drink, placing his hand over yours. “I’ve been shit, I know. Got caught up in everything and barely looked back. Wanted to reach out a long time before now but I couldn’t bring myself,” he told you. “Felt so bad for how I just disappeared and didn’t want to face it.”
You looked at him with sad eyes, searching his face for any sign of insincerity. “I get it, H. I’m really happy for you, I am. You had all your dreams come true, it’s amazing,” you set your glass down beside you and held your other hand over his. “Just feel sad that I lost my best friend overnight.” Your eyes welled up as you spoke, a combination of the free-flowing prosecco, the beautiful ceremony, and facing your hurt with the man who caused it. “Never had a friend who got me like you did,” you chuckled bitterly. Harry pulled his hands from yours and snaked an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side. “I’m sorry, little Boo, I swear.”
The pair of you stayed that way for a while, soaking in each other’s words and the idyllic setting. Just being close to each other for the first time in almost a decade, having said what you both needed to, was bliss. “I thought about you a lot, y’know,” Harry told you suddenly, the words bursting out as if he’d been biting them back for a while. “Yeah?” you asked him, sitting up straighter to look at him again. He nodded, cheeks twinged slightly pink. You weren’t sure if it was the booze or his confession. “All my big moments, always wished you were there.”
“You know I would’ve been if I knew you wanted me to, Harry.”
“I know,” he mumbled, watching his own trainer-clad feet kicking little rocks around. “My mum and dad went to a few of your shows with Anne, watched the Brits and the Grammys every year you were nominated.” You swallowed thickly, before continuing, “I’m really proud of you, we all are.”
Harry turned his head slightly to the sound of music blaring from inside, before asking you, “dance with me?” He extended a hand to help you up, placing his glass down before wrapping an arm around your waist. You stepped together slowly, bodies moving in unison with your head rested softly against his chest. The skies had gotten gradually darker as you’d spoken, closing in around you until only a faint glow seeped out from the open church doors. Harry pushed you out, spinning you around before tugging you back into him. You smacked against his chest with a little ‘umph’, the wind knocked out of you. Your eyes met his, a little dazed, and all you could do was stare.
It felt like a betrayal of your childhood self to find him so attractive now. He was your best friend, your first friend, the only one to ever understand you fully. He’d guided you through your awkward pre-teen stage, the extra years he had on you put to good use when he showed you cool bands and songs to make boys like you. But now, you wanted him to be the boy that liked you. You were so flustered under his gaze, heat tearing through your body. “Let’s head back in,” you told Harry, words shaky. He kept an arm tight around your shoulder, shaking you about as you approached the church. ‘I’ve got my little Boo back’ he laughed in a sing-song tune. You could feel the happiness radiating off his body, knowing without even looking that his toothy grin would be firmly nestled between two deep dimples.
Your parents were sat around a table with Anne, Michal and Gemma still doing the rounds. You could tell they were drunk from a mile away - your dads cheeks stained red with merriment and Anne’s hands gesturing wildly as your mum roared with laughter. You’d missed this. You still went home as often as you could, never missing an opportunity to enjoy time with your loved ones, but before seeing Harry today it always felt different. Gemma, your sister, and Harry had all moved on, never fully present. But being the youngest, you were the one left behind. Harry pulled around two chairs for you both, plopping down between you and his mum. She draped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. “My special boy, where have you been?” she slurred.
“Been catching up,” Harry told her, a blush creeping up his cheeks as she looked between the two of you before winking at him. She was far from subtle before getting wine drunk, so now her entire head moved with her wink. She highlighted it with a loud “wink, wink” in Harry’s direction. “Anne!” you spluttered, choking out a laugh. Your dad reached over to snatch the two empty glasses from in front of you and Harry, promising to fill them to the brim so you could ‘get on their bloody level’.
The evening continued like that, the 5 of you drinking and laughing, reminiscing on your younger days. Your parents and Anne managing to bring up enough embarrassing stories about you both to put you off ever speaking to them again. “I think it’s time we all go to bed,” Harry started, holding his hands up. “Because we’re all fucking PISSED!”, he continued, yelling at the table. You banged on the table in hysterics, eyes screwed up tight as you and Anne fell into each other in laughter. Most of the venue had cleared out by now, guests dropping by your table to congratulate Anne on their way out. You’d barely seen Gemma all night, so content in her little love bubble that she’d spent the majority of the evening alone with Michal, feeding each other cake and slow-dancing.
“Come on, you big lump,” you tugged at your dad’s wrists who in turn pulled at your mum to stand up. Your dad swung his arms around you both, Harry and Anne joining onto the end, and you stumbled towards the exit in a fit of laughter. Harry tried to start a can-can line, kicking one big foot up into the air, but the 5 of you put together had far less coordination than even one sober person, so the idea was quickly abandoned.
The church had a converted barn outside, with rooms purpose-built for immediate family and friends to stay in. You hugged and kissed your goodnights to your parents and Anne, making sure they all got into bed without mischief. Now it was only you and Harry left, buzzed but significantly less drunk than your elders. “Care for one last round?” Harry asked you, slipping a little hip flask out from his blazer pocket. You knew this was a bad idea, a drunken evening alone with the man you’d been lusting after all day. But you certainly wouldn’t make the first move, and you were almost sure he didn’t think of you as anything other than the little girl who used to run around with him.
You followed him into his room, laughing to drown out the alarm bells ringing in your head. Once you saw the empty bed in front of you, you couldn’t help but just flop down on it, suddenly needing to be as comfortable as you could. The room was aged and rustic, but the bed was far more comfortable than it looked. Harry sat against the pillows beside you, long legs stretched out before him as he took a swig from the flask.
For the first time that day, the silence around you was peaceful. Just two old friends enjoying each others presence. Harry watched you as you took the flask from him, grimacing as the liquor went down with a burn. His green eyes were studying every little line on your face, every freckle dotted across your bare shoulders. There was so much new about you, so many little details and marks you’d gained as you grew older, all the little telltale signs of the years he’d missed. What he’d said to you earlier was true, he’d missed you with his whole heart from the second he’d left you behind, spent so many lonely nights wishing he had you by his side. He thought he’d outgrown you, his new-found fame taking precedence over the little girl he’d shared his dreams and aspirations with. But sitting here now with you, he knew you’d grown with him, no matter how far removed your life had become from his. “‘M nearly 30, you know,” he drawled, voice hoarse from the singing and the sting of alcohol in his throat.
“Huh?” you turned to him confused. “I’m 30 next year,” he told you. “Yeah I know, H. What does that have to do with anything?” you laughed, poking at the side of his head. “Means we have to get married next year,” he grinned. You gasped, remembering the pact you’d thought about earlier in the day, “you didn’t forget!” you laughed, sitting up against the soft pillows.
“Can’t do it next year though, two weddings in a year would send our parents insane,” you told him. “‘M finished with my tour now. Got nothing on next year,” Harry shrugged, a familiar cheeky smirk sitting pretty between his dimpled cheeks. You felt something shift in the air as he spoke, and he seemed to feel it too, edging closer to you until his face was only centimetres away from yours. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look today?” he cooed, one hand coming up to cup your cheek. His touch shot electricity through your core, a tingling sensation starting where his fingers touched you before washing over your whole body. You shook your head lightly, eyes fixed on him. He leaned in at this, his parted lips meeting yours. The beginnings of a moustache tickled your upper lip, his hot breath flowing into your mouth with every lick of his tongue. You shifted your body towards him as the kiss deepened, four legs and the now-crumpled duvet tangling together as you rushed to close the distance between your bodies. Harry licked into your mouth with the passion of a million years of unspoken longing, his movements saying more than he ever could with words. It was the kind of kiss you’d expect from someone who’d loved you for a lifetime, who wanted to love you for a lifetime, your tongues working alongside each other like this was routine, like you’d done it a thousand times before.
“Harry,” you whispered, hands pushing his blazer from his shoulders. He let you pull it off him, then stroked a hand up your thigh as you admired his upper body. One arm was littered in patchwork tattoos, though all you could focus on was his muscles, illuminated beautifully in the evening light. “Let me get you out of this,” he rasped, twisting your shoulders around to access the zip running down the back of your dress. He smoothed his fingers down your waist and to your hips before unzipping you, your body dwarfed by his strong hands. Harry pressed a kiss into the top of your back, then kissed up and down your spine, hungry for a taste of you as he unveiled more of your skin. You stood up to help him pull your dress down, resting one hand on his shoulder to steady yourself as you stepped out of it, leaving it discarded on the floor. “Matches my eyes,” he smiled. His gaze trailed from your toes, up to your knees, to where your panties wrapped around your hips, and higher still. Up your tanned abdomen to your bare breasts where your rosebud nipples sat perky, to your neck, and finally his gaze rested on your eyes. “Y’so beautiful,” he groaned, running a soft touch along the curve of your neck.
Harry pulled his tank top over his head, stepping out of his slacks as they collapsed at his feet. His body was unbelievable. So tanned and toned, firm in all the right places yet soft in the best ones. You could see the outline of his hard shaft through the thin fabric of his boxers, an almost silent moan slipping out as you took in the sight before you.
He stepped closer to you, backing you up until the side of the bed hit the back of your knees, then held a hand to your back to guide you down onto it. His hot, drunken breath washed over you as he climbed on top of you, one hand balancing his body as the other explored you. His fingers groped your breast firmly, mouth finding the opposite nipple, sucking it into his lips in one quick movement. Your back arched off the bed, pleasure so built up that it only took one touch to send you into a frenzy. Harry licked a circle around your areola, chuckling against your skin as you writhed under his touch. “Barely even started yet, little Boo,” he drawled, moving upwards to kiss along your clenched jaw.
His fingers danced down your body, smoothing over your mound as you gasped and groaned. They slipped under the soft material of your panties, blissfully cold against the heat of your entrance. You were already soaked through, much to his surprise, so he swiped a finger through your folds to collect your juices before landing straight on your clit. Harry rubbed you in circles, the friction leaving you a panting mess under him, head jutting out to press open-mouthed kisses on his throat.
He pulled your panties down your thighs tenderly, kissing every inch of skin they passed over. In the dim light of the room, mouth moving up and down your body, he’d never looked so handsome. His cock brushed against you as he moved back up your body to focus again on your folds, your juices spread across your mound in a mess. Two long fingers dived straight in, his rings leaving a harsh chill against your sensitive skin. The stretch of his fingers alone had you panting, a familiar burning starting in your core. Harry found your sweet spot insanely fast, fingers moving in a perfect beckoning motion just as you liked. He navigated your body like you’d done this before, like the muscle memory just guided him to what he knew made you feel good. “I want more, want you inside of me,” you whined, hips bucking towards Harry’s groin as he silenced you with a deep kiss. “Got to get you ready for me first, Boo”, he told you. You winced as he used your nickname, knowing you’d never be able to hear your dad call you that without thinking of this night.
Harry’s mouth found your breast again, sucking deep purple bruises onto the gentle skin as you whimpered beneath him. He smacked at your pussy as your moans got louder, causing your eyes to shoot up to meet his. “Gotta keep the noise down, sweet girl.” You nodded in response, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip to keep yourself as quiet as you could be. The second his tongue found your nipple, you felt your orgasm bubbling up in your core. Harry noticed the way your head lulled back, slipping a third finger inside of you and using his thumb to brush against your clit. It was like the holy trinity of foreplay, his skilled tongue and fingers hitting your three most pleasurable zones at once. Your climax hit quickly, walls tightening around his digits as you clamped your forearm across your mouth, desperately trying not to scream his name. He peppered kisses down your throat as his fingers rode you through your high, only pulling them away when you went limp under him. Harry held his fingers to his mouth, tongue darting out to lick off every trace of your creamy come.
He backed off you to kick his boxers down his legs, stroking his erection as it oozed precum. He found his wallet, pulling out a condom and rolling it down the length of his cock. “How do you want me, sweet girl?” he asked you, cock twitching in his hand. “Wanna go on top,” you told him, suddenly eager to impress. If his cock was anywhere near as good to you as his hands and mouth had been, you couldn’t only have him once. You needed to show him how good your pretty pussy could take him, make him want to come back for more.
Harry rolled onto the centre of the bed, hands guiding your hips down over his groin. His hand cupped the back of your head, pulling you towards him for a sloppy kiss. His mouth tasted of you, the familiar tingle of juices on his tongue. You stroked his member up and down quickly, before lining it up with your entrance and pushing yourself down onto his tip. “Fuck, H. You’re so big,” you whined, thighs burning as you hovered above him. He used his hands to move you up, then down, down, down, helping you to take him fully. The burn was like nothing you’d experienced before, his girthy cock crammed into every corner of your pussy. You stilled for a moment, hands resting against his butterfly tattoo, chest rising and falling quickly as you tried to push past the ache. He held a thumb under your chin, tilting your head to look at him. “You ok, pet?” he asked, needing to be sure before you continued. You nodded, moving one arm to pull his finger into your mouth. You licked circles around his fingertip, sucking it in down to his knuckle before releasing with it a pop.
Harry’s hands guided your hips to grind against him, helping you until you found your rhythm. He pulled them away, one landing with a loud smack on your ass cheek as the other crept up the front of your body, resting at your throat. He squeezed lightly, the sensation only spurring you on to bounce up and down on him, the combination of your juices squelching as your cheeks slapped against his groin. It was the kind of hot, dirty sex you’d only ever dreamed of, and it had you falling apart on top of him. You cried out a strangled moan, expletives falling out of both of your mouths. “Feel so good around me,” Harry groaned, “so fucking wet. S’that all for me?”
“All for you, H. M’all yours,” you whimpered. His hips bucked against you as you told him you were his, fingers pulling away from your supple ass. He spat on them before dancing them back across your asscheek and smoothing the spit around your second hole, eyes fixed on your pussy bouncing on his cock. “Can I?” he asked you. “Please, H.”
He pushed a finger into your tightness, filling you up so well. You felt so full you could burst. His eyes were clouded over with lust, tiny hairs slick to his forehead with sweat. He looked feral, and you loved it. He repositioned his feet to where they were flat against the bed, hips knocking into you as you moved up and down his cock, his thrusts sending him deeper and deeper inside of you. You were both panting now, barely able to contain your highs for a second longer. “Come with me, come with me please,” you begged him, your second orgasm of the night starting to rise through your core. His thrusts got faster and sloppier, obscene sounds echoing around the room, a clear sign of what you were doing to anyone who could hear you right now. Your orgasm crept up on you quickly, thanks to Harry tightening his grip around your neck and pushing his finger further into your tight hole. Your head was thrown back as you came, back arched making his cock feel as though it could burst through your belly button. Harry moaned loudly, hips jutting one last time as he flooded the condom with his come. You collapsed in a sweaty heap, totally unable to hold yourself up any longer.
“Took me so well, angel girl,” Harry drawled as he pulled out of you, padding across the room to toss the condom and rinse his hands. You lay there in total bliss, comfortable in the knowledge that your friendship was long gone.
“Let me go first and you can come after,” you told Harry, holding a finger up to shush him when he started to laugh. “We’re grown adults, Y/N, it doesn’t matter if anyone sees us come out together.”
“I don’t write songs about sex and drugs. My body is still untouched in my parents eyes,” you told him, hand slipping from the doorknob as he pulled you in for another kiss. “Just don’t come until you hear me leaving.”
You crept out of the room as silently as you could, heels and dress bundled under one arm. You’d heard Anne, your parents and Gemma head out to the courtyard already, so there was no danger of being caught by prying eyes - or so you thought. As you were padding across the hallway to your room, Anne appeared round the corner. “I was just coming to see if you were awake,” she told you, eyes sparkling with glee. “No wonder your mum said your bed was untouched.” She knocked on Harry’s door with a tight-lipped smile lighting up her face. He opened the door wide-eyed as Anne pulled him into a firm hug, pressing a sticky lipgloss kiss to his cheek. “I always hoped you two would get together.” She disappeared back down the hall as quickly as she appeared, leaving you and Harry blushing.
You decided to make your way outside together, knowing it wouldn’t be long before your parents put two and two together anyway. Plus, you knew Anne wouldn’t be able to resist telling your mum and Gemma what she saw.
You decided to spend the day on the beach, you and Harry with your parents and Anne, since Gemma and Michal had already left for their honeymoon. It was a perfect summers day, the sun warm enough to enjoy but not hot enough to irritate you, the gentle sea breeze cooling you down as it washed over you. Your mum and Anne were sprawled across a linen blanket, two bottles of wine stood in the sand next to their feet. They called you over, instant dread washing over you as Anne excitedly shouted your name. “Do you have anything to tell us?” she asked you, and you were sure there would be mischief glinting in her eyes under her big sunglasses. They sat up and scooted over on their blanket, leaving space for you to slot in between. “Nothing that I’m sure you don’t already know,” you smirked, a deep blush creeping up your cheeks. Your mum looked between Anne and you, gasping as she swatted at your leg. “So it’s true! You dirty little minx.”
You held your head in your hands, mortified that your parents knew you’d slept with Harry. “Oh relax,” your mum told you. “It’s nothing we haven’t done before,” she smirked, throwing herself towards Anne as they howled in laughter. Anne stopped suddenly, her hand tapping at your mum’s thigh incessantly. “If they get married, we’ll be real family!” she gasped, face pink with joy. “Well, the pact is what got us there in the first place,” Harry told them, sitting down next to you and snaking a hand around your waist.
“I forgot all about that,” your mum’s jaw went slack. “Do you still have it?” she asked Anne. “Of course I do. Kept it safe to show them when they found their way back to each other, always knew this day would come.”
part two
taglist: @sleutherclaw @harrysolaf @slutforcoffein
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futureman · 8 months
Text
old dogs don't change
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pairing: joel miller x f!reader
summary: weeks after sleeping together, your no-strings-attached agreement goes up in flames when joel goes on a date with another woman. you make sure that never happens again. (sequel to keep it on the low)
warnings: 18+ MDNI, ex-boyfriend!joel, jackson era, tlou 2 jesse appearance, age gap, hurt, angst, smut, unprotected piv, post-breakup sex, rough sex, public sex, rough oral (m!receiving), exhibitionism, possessive behavior, jealousy, alcohol use, briefly dating other people
word count: 10.6k
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You have no idea who she is, but you bet she’s a total bitch. Is that mean? Maybe. Do you give a shit? Nope.
To be fair, you’d probably say that about anyone Joel started dating after you, but that doesn’t mean it can’t still be true. Sure, you've never actually talked to her…or seen her before in your entire life, but that’s beside the point. She’s cute and bubbly, and everything you’re not, and that’s the point. 
It’s honestly a little comical how different the two of you are, and you can’t help but wonder if Tommy did that on purpose. You know he was the one who set them up. Everyone in the dining hall was talking about it this morning. The latest, hottest piece of gossip, bouncing from table to table like a cruel game of telephone. 
He probably thinks he’s protecting his big brother, but you think he needs to mind his own fucking business. It’s not like he knows anything about your relationship, not really. Well. It’s not your relationship anymore, is it? And Tommy, along with everyone else in this town, blames you for that.
Poor Joel, dumped by the biggest bitch in Jackson, who took advantage of his kindness and patience for years, and broke his heart when all he did was love her. Selfish, cold, and uncaring. Nothing like the pretty, perky girl sitting next to him in the booth they’re sharing at Seth’s. 
If only they knew what really happened.
The bar is especially busy, even for a Saturday night, so you figure no one’ll notice you blatantly glaring at them. It’s not like you care, anyway. You’re feeling warm and loose, and maybe a little too tipsy for your own good, but tonight, you get to do whatever the fuck you want. 
Because Joel’s sitting ten feet away with his arm slung around another woman, and it hurts. 
It sucks way worse than him avoiding you since the last time you slept together, after all of the things you did and said on that couch. The things he said. You shoo away the thought with another swig of beer, wishing you were drinking something stronger. It's for the best. 
If you get any drunker, you’ll probably end up doing something stupid, and the last thing you need is to prove everyone right that he’s better off without you. But you can’t seem to shake the anger that’s starting to simmer below the surface. 
With the emotional toll this night has already taken, you kind of don’t want to. So, you surrender to it. Fuck him. He’s a piece of shit for parading his new girl around right in front of you, and for breaking off your agreement without so much as a word. 
If he wanted to see other people, he should’ve opened his mouth and used his big boy words. Then again, he’s always been terrible at that, so why are you surprised? 
Maybe he’ll fuck her tonight. Touch her all of the ways you like because that’s all he knows anymore. She’ll moan for him, soft and sweet, gentle in her affection, just like she’s touching him right now. But it won’t satisfy him, and when he’s panting on top of her, chasing that all-consuming release only you can give him, you know he’ll be pretending she's you. 
Asshole.
You’re still watching them, shooting daggers from your spot at the bar, when your wish from earlier is granted. Two overflowing shot glasses topped with lime are placed in front of you, and you look up to see a very attractive dark-haired, brown-eyed man smirking down at you.
"Looked a little lonely over here," he says in a raspy baritone even lower than Joel's. He clinks the top of your beer bottle with the bottom of his own. "Thought you could use some company, maybe another drink."
Well, he’s right. You could use some company, and you’d love another drink. There’s no harm in having a little fun, right? If Joel’s doing it, then there’s nothing stopping you.
"So, both of these are for me, then?" you smile coyly, reaching for one. He nods, his own smile widening.
"Could be. Can I join ya?" he gestures to the empty stool next to you. 
He has this cocky look on his face like he already knows you'll say yes, and in your inebriated state, you think it's kind of hot. It reminds you of Joel when you first met. How he knew exactly what he wanted and wouldn't give up until it was his. Until you were his.
You consider him for a moment. He’s young, maybe even younger than you, and obviously confident enough to make a move on you. Fleetingly, you think he might end up being that stupid thing you do tonight, but then you down one of the shots and decide you don't actually care. 
What turns out to be tequila burns the entire way down, and you immediately pick up a slice of lime. You’re hyperaware of the way his eyes lock onto your mouth as you suck on the sour fruit, lingering when a droplet of juice dribbles down your chin. 
It’s not a total surprise when he reaches up to thumb it away, but you are taken off guard by how strange it makes you feel. The pad of his finger is disappointingly smooth, no weathering or even a hint of a callus. You're not sure why that matters to you, but you can take a decent guess.
You chance a glance over at Joel's table and, of course, you have his full attention now. His entire body looks tense, from his hand clenched on the table to the prominent vein bulging angrily in his neck. 
Good. Now he knows how it feels.
Looking back up at your mystery guy, you run your tongue along your bottom lip, catching any remaining lime before you finally give him an answer. 
"Sure. Pop a squat, cowboy," you giggle. It doesn't even sound like you and feels wrong the second it passes your lips, but as long as Joel heard it, that's all that matters. "You got a name?"
He replies, but you're too busy keeping an eye on Joel in your peripheral to catch what he says. In the back of your mind, you think that’s probably a good thing. You'd rather not know, especially if you do end up taking him home. 
Mystery guy laughs at your noncommittal hum and you realize you’ve been caught. But he doesn’t seem upset. It’s clear he’s amused by your obvious interest elsewhere and that piques your curiosity. 
Any other guy here would’ve been pissed by your apathy, especially if they’d bothered to buy you a drink that you accepted, but apparently not this one.
He sits down on the stool next to you, pulling it close enough that his knee presses against yours. You unconsciously lean into him, your skin erupting in goosebumps despite your growing unease.
He's...baffling. A total enigma. You can’t figure out what his deal is or why he’s choosing to keep pursuing you when your eyes have been glued to another man all night. 
The thought of letting this continue long enough to find out is a little thrilling. Might as well see where this goes. If it escalates, you’re more than confident in your ability to care of yourself.
But it happens sooner than you expect. His hand finds the back of your stool and, then, his lips are suddenly right next to your cheek. You can feel the warmth of them as he tilts his head to whisper in your ear.
“Look, not try'na to overstep, but…,” his eyes dart to where Joel’s sitting, unreservedly ignoring his date. The poor thing barely notices, chattering away about something not nearly as important to him as watching you. His gaze returns to you, and you can feel him smirking. “You wanna make that guy you've been staring at all night jealous?"
That’s—wow. You didn’t see that one coming. He’s got a lot of audacity to assume that’s something you’d want, let alone offer…what? His services? 
But, then again, he isn’t wrong. Joel’s been the only thing on your mind since you walked into Seth’s tonight and saw him with her. He’s always on your mind if you’re being totally honest with yourself. It’s plain to see, obvious to every single person in this bar including the man himself.
You eye your mystery guy curiously for a second before nodding, your lips quirking into a small smirk. Maybe it’s time to prove to Joel and everyone else in this judgmental town that you’ve moved on, too. That you’re not the sad, bitter shrew that deserves to be alone.
"Yeah, actually, I do," you reply cautiously. But there's still one lingering question that has yet to be answered. "I just…why? I don’t get why you’re helping me. What are you getting out of this?”
He shrugs, and somehow you can just tell by the look in his eyes that there’s no hidden agenda. You’re not sure how you’re just noticing, but he has kind eyes. This whole time, he’s been nothing but patient and attentive, like Joel always was—...is? 
Was.
You almost wish you could fall for someone like this man instead of pathetically clinging to your past. Maybe you’ll at least get a friend out of this crazy night, if nothing else. But then you remember one, tiny problem with that idea.
“Can you tell me your name again? I promise you have my full attention this time,” you smile sheepishly. He chuckles good-naturedly and, again, doesn’t seem to hold it against you.
“It’s Jesse,” he says with a deep, southern drawl you should probably be more attracted to. “And let’s just say I know how it feels to want someone ya can’t have.”
You nod slowly, understanding perfectly. Except—you didn't realize up until this moment that that's exactly what you want. Someone you can't ever have. 
And it took seeing Joel with someone else, his body pressed up against a woman that isn't you, to realize it. Well, that fucking sucks.
You decide not to ask about Jesse's situation. It's not your business and, anyway, you're both trying to feel better about your circumstances, not worse. 
There’s a silent sense of camaraderie between you that tells you to throw caution to the wind. Tossing back the second shot, you turn your stool to face his, literally and figuratively turning your back on Joel. 
“It’s really nice to meet you, Jesse,” you murmur, and you genuinely mean it. He grins, leaning in slowly, still giving you time to back out if you want to, but you don't. 
Eat your heart out, Joel Miller. This one's for you.
"S'nice to meet you, too," he replies softly. 
Then, his lips are on yours. The kiss is wet and open-mouthed, and yet he handles you so delicately. He cradles your face in his hands as his tongue brushes against yours, and you moan softly into his mouth, letting your body get lost in the way he feels. And he feels so—
Much different than Joel. 
All you can think about is how much you miss Joel's rough touch, the way he'd thread his fingers through your hair and tug you into his mouth, nearly devouring you whole. Joel kissed you like every time might be the last, right up until it actually was. 
Fucking hell, why can't you just enjoy this without him ruining it for you?
You try to forget about it, about him, licking into Jesse's mouth a little more aggressively, and he groans, his body eager and responsive. It's probably more than you should be doing in public, sitting at a bar surrounded by people but, hell, you want them to see. 
They can say whatever they want about you. You're done giving a shit.
And, boy, will they have a lot to talk about after tonight. Joel makes sure of that. It happens so fast, you barely register that Jesse’s lips aren’t on yours anymore like they should be.
One moment, Jesse's hands are trailing down your sides to your waist, and the next, he's being forcibly dragged off you. Between you stands a broad, imposing figure ensuring you stay separated.
Your mind goes blank, and all you can do is watch in shock and disbelief as Joel lets loose on him, his words possessive and almost nonsensical. 
"The fuck you think you're doin' touchin' her like that? Y'need to learn how to keep your hands to yourself, kid, before ya get yourself in trouble," he grits out angrily. 
To his credit, Jesse stays cool and collected, but it’s not enough. There’s already a few pairs of eyes on you, drawn by the physical altercation, and it won’t be long before the rest of the bar notices the impending fight.
"Respectfully, sir, s'long as the lady consents, I'll put my hands wherever she wants," Jesse replies, standing his ground. He tries to move around him to return to your side, but Joel fixes him with a look that sends a shiver down your spine.
"S'that really a good idea?" Joel sounds menacing and looks even more so the longer the conversation continues. 
You’re still numb to everything unfolding in front of you and it’s not until Jesse’s next to you again, snaking an arm around your waist, that you finally come to. The reality of your situation hits you like a ton of bricks and now you’re mad. You open your mouth to retaliate, but Jesse cuts you off before you can get a word in.
“There a reason it wouldn’t be?” he turns the question back on Joel and you tense, anticipating a less-than-friendly answer. Jesse squeezes your hip in reassurance, but it does nothing to soothe your unease. He doesn’t know Joel like you do.
“Kid, do I look like I’m fuckin’ around? Take your hands off her and walk away. M'not gonna tell you again,” he all but growls, taking a threatening step forward. 
Neither of you back down. Jesse’s arm stays firm around you as your nails bite into your palm. It's taking everything you've got not to make a bigger scene than you already have.
You knew it. Since the breakup, you’ve been trying to reconcile this increasingly unfamiliar man with the Joel you gave your entire heart to all those years ago. With each passing month, the differences between the two become more and more obvious.
He's angrier now and has so much less patience. It's not that he's unkind. You know that no matter what his circumstances are, Joel will continue to be a good man. But he has a hair trigger, especially when it comes to you. 
And he wants. God, he always wants you. It’s not that you didn’t have an active sex life before everything fell apart. He just...fucks you differently now. Possessively and without restraint, like he needs to be sure you're satisfied enough to never need anyone else. The agreement to keep sleeping together was actually his idea. And it worked for a while—until it suddenly didn't. 
Now, you're forced to come face-to-face with that reality. Sitting at this bar, you spent the entirety of the night believing he'd decided he didn't want you anymore, that he was ready to find happiness in something simpler than sneaking around with his ex.
Except, it's starting to feel like maybe that's not as true as he made it seem. Like he never should've gone on this date in the first place.
"What the fuck, Joel?" you hiss, fighting to keep your volume under control. Not that it matters. The entire bar is staring at you, their eyes ping-ponging back and forth like they're watching a tennis match. "Back the fuck off. Now. This is none of your business."
"The hell it ain't my business. Some kid's runnin' his hands all over another man's girl and y'think that ain't my business?" 
His trembling hands clench into fists at his sides and, while you’re betting the rest of the bar thinks he’s preparing for a fight, that isn’t Joel. It might be you, though, if he keeps this up.
"Excuse me? And whose girl am I—yours? Because I'm pretty sure your girl is sitting over there in that booth. Or did you forget about your date?"
For a moment, he actually has the nerve to look ashamed, like he feels bad about leaving her all alone at their table and for humiliating her in front of all these people. He avoids her crestfallen gaze, likely not ready to face the hurt he’s caused. 
But it only lasts for a second before his eyes darken again, focused solely on you. As if Jesse, his pretty date, and everyone else in this bar disappeared, and it's just you and him. This conversation doesn't include them anymore. It's a private matter now.
"We're leavin'," he says with finality, his tone leaving no room for argument. 
He should know better. That's not how things work with you. You’re a fighter, a trait he’s always loved about you, even if your ire was directed at him. Back then, it rarely was.
"You're out of your mind if you think I'm leaving with you," you scoff bitterly. "Go back to your date, I'll go back to mine, and we can forget about this. All of it. We're done, Joel."
He shakes his head, mouth tipping down into a frown like he's thinking something over. Then, he huffs out a laugh. Like, an actual laugh, and you start to think maybe he really has lost his mind.
"Y'know, I really don't think we are, darlin'," he drawls dangerously. 
He's on you in an instant, his hand wrapped tightly around your arm as he drags you out of the bar. You briefly consider resisting, but he's moving too quickly. All of those shots you downed combined with the beer you drank earlier go straight to your head, and you're suddenly overwhelmingly distracted by the feeling of his skin on yours.
Fuck, it feels like it's been so long. In reality, you know it's only been a few weeks but, god, you missed it. His hands on your body, anywhere at all on your body. You'd hate how quickly you forget about Jesse if you could think about anything else but those familiar, rough fingertips.
The way they dig into you, reminiscent of how he'd squeeze your thighs or clutch your waist when he was making love to you.
...Wait, what? No...no, fuck. Why is he making this so difficult? Why—Christ...why can't you just leave each other alone? If he never planned on letting you go, he shouldn't have broken up with you. And if he still wanted you this badly...all he had to do was ask. You would've said yes in a heartbeat.
So, you let him steal you away, out into the brisk, wintry air that does little to cool your fury or the heat beginning to coil in your belly. The door shuts noisily behind you, and you immediately wrench your arm out of his grasp before he can say a word. It's your turn to talk now.
"What is wrong with you? You can't just...fuck, you can't do shit like this!" You're seething, practically shaking in your rage, and his expression doesn't look much different. 
"And you can? I dunno what the hell you were thinkin' gettin’ cozy with some goddamn kid, lettin’ him touch ya like that in front of the whole town," he reiterates harshly. He's starting to sound like a broken record. It's the only leverage he's got, and you both know it's flimsy at best.
"Some kid? Jesse's a fucking adult, clearly more mature than you," you bite back. "And it’s a bar, Joel. That's what people do at bars."
Joel scoffs, and you can tell he hates the way Jesse's name falls from your lips. Especially when those lips were on yours not even ten minutes ago. 
"And who are you to decide who can and can't touch me? You broke up with me," you continue resentfully. "You don't get a say anymore."
At that, his face becomes unreadable. He didn't need the reminder, and you know that, but it needed to be said for both of your sakes. Sometimes you think maybe he actually forgets it was his choice to give you up. That he didn't realize his decision would hurt you as much as it hurt him.
"So, what? You gonna take him home then, let him fuck ya?" He leans in close, so close you can feel his soft, graying curls against your temple and the coarse drag of his beard across your cheek. 
"Kiss ya here—," a finger trails delicately down the side of your neck to his spot above your collarbone, then continues down to where you've been aching for him for weeks, "—taste ya here." 
You slap his hand away before he can get any further, but your reaction only spurs him on. How could you forget? He likes that.
"Y'know he can't make ya feel as good as I do. Fuck you just how y'like it, make ya cum as hard as I do," he drawls confidently, almost smugly, in your ear. "Don't ya?"
It's less a question than a statement, because you both know he's right. Joel knows your body better than anyone ever has, maybe even better than you know it yourself. Just as much as you know his. And it's sort of funny. You were thinking the exact same thing about him with his date earlier.
"Sure, Joel. Just like you were gonna take that girl home, right?" You raise an eyebrow, turning your head so your lips graze his skin. "Pretty little thing like her, I bet she likes it slow and romantic. She’ll probably even stick around for a snuggle and some pillow talk. You'd love that.”
Even as you mock him, the sneer marring your face doesn’t quite meet your eyes, and the spiteful nature of your words tastes acrid as they pass your lips. He’s so good at that. Always able to bring out the worst in you to prove his point—that he’s no good for you.
But you stand firm, your chest pressed flush against his in a show of determination. You're still in control here, unlike Joel, whose fingers are twitching noticeably at his sides like he's just itching to get his hands on you again. 
"Maybe I would. Liked it with you, didn't I?" he murmurs wistfully, and that catches you completely off guard.
His words are almost too gentle to belong in this argument, and it doesn’t feel fair. What's worse, he looks like he means them. You’d prefer the fight, the aggression of the man who dragged you out of the bar. Not this. Not these traces of your Joel. 
You can already feel your resolve slipping, and the rapid thrum of your heartbeat tells you to let it. When his hands finally take their rightful place on your waist, he’s in control again.
The cool evening air is suddenly stifling, and you’re starting to feel like you’re suffocating, your thoughts a jumbled, heated haze of anger and fear and want. He squeezes hard enough to pull your hips into his and you unintentionally buck, allowing his hands to travel up your shirt. 
There's an intensity to his gaze, tinged with an unexpected tenderness. He almost looks...sated. Fulfilled, now that you're back in his arms. But not completely, not yet.
"You still haven't answered my question," he mutters. His hands splay across your ribcage, high enough for his thumbs to tease the undersides of your breasts.
You bite down hard on your bottom lip, sliding your hands up his chest to push him away so you can catch your breath, but your body won't cooperate. It's been well-trained to crave his touch. Exhaling sharply through your nose, you fist his shirt and instead pull him impossibly closer.
"You asked a lot of questions tonight. You're gonna have to be a little more specific,” you pant heavily.
It's getting more difficult to think, now, with the warmth of his body against you, his thumbs shifting higher to stroke your stiffening nipples. He urges your hips forward again to meet his, and you can already feel him straining in his jeans.
You whimper helplessly, unable to curb the way your body's reacting to him, and the soft sound causes something in him to snap. He suddenly backs you up against the hard brick of the bar's exterior and begins to grind languidly into your stomach. 
"Y'really believe that boy can take care of a woman like you? Hm?" He interrogates you, his voice gravelly and uneven in your ear. "Tell me I'm the only one who can give you what ya need. Wanna hear ya say it."
Fuck, you can't lie to him. As much as you want to, it's just one more thing your body won't allow you to do. Not when he's working you up like this. 
"You're the only one," you moan around your admission. He's still crowding you into the wall, his hands greedily roaming your soft curves.
His eyes meet yours, darting quickly to your mouth before he leans in to kiss you passionately like he’s rewarding you. It only lasts for a second, one deliciously fleeting second, before he pulls away. You’re not sure why you let him. Or why you kissed back.
"Who's the only man who can make ya scream?" he demands a little more urgently.
"You, Joel,” you murmur obediently, your lips already parted and ready for your prize.
And he acquiesces—another insistent kiss that doesn’t last nearly long enough. This time, you chase him, but he jerks his head back. He still has one last question for you. Except, this time, he looks afraid of the answer. 
"Whose girl are ya?"
He whispers it so softly, you barely catch it over the whistling, nighttime breeze. As he brushes a few ruffled strands of hair behind your ear, you answer without hesitation. 
"Yours, Joel."
His entire body relaxes. Now, he's complete.
"Damn right, you are—"
Then, the front door bursts open next to you, and he's abruptly cut off. Joel is quick to tug you around the corner into the alleyway before anyone can spot you, but he's not fast enough to keep you from seeing who just left the bar.
Jesse.
And there it is. A shock to the system, enough to clear some of that smoky, nostalgic haze and bring you back to the present. But as everything hurtles back for the second time tonight, this time around, you can’t be mad because he’s right.
Of course, you're not Jesse's girl. As pathetic as it sounds, you'll always be Joel's because he’s the only one who can take care of you and give you what need. The only man who can make you scream. But that goes both ways.
Even though he’s been picking fights all night, he hasn’t raised his voice once. It's not the way he wins his battles. So, maybe it's time to remind Joel Miller that there is someone who can make him scream. But he isn't allowed to unless you say so.
It all feels eerily familiar—his fingers digging into your waist and your lips crashing into his hard enough to bruise. You lead him deeper into the alley, back to where the glow of the string lights above the bar can't reach you, before you separate from him. 
Neither of you wants to be the one to say it, but it needs to be heard. Here, in the dark, you can be his completely, but once you part ways and return to your empty beds, that's it. Just like last time. The reasons for your breakup are still very real, and that means your relationship can't be.
"Only here. Right, Joel?"   
He stays silent for a moment, his gaze filled with deep longing and sadness. It almost makes you want to take it back. Take him back. So, when he shakes his head and cups your cheeks, kissing you like this might be his last chance, you're not surprised in the slightest.
And after this whole night—this whole confusing, fucked-up night—you let him. Right now, he needs this. Maybe you do, too.
His lips taste like whiskey and relief, and you return his kiss with all of the passion and fervor he’s pouring into you. You’re both a little frantic in the way you touch each other, but as much as you don’t want it to, it makes perfect sense. 
Those few weeks without each other felt like years, and now that his hands are back on your body and his voice, deep and dulcet, is in your ear telling you how badly he wants you, you don’t want to let him go again.
You grind the heel of your hand into the front of his jeans and his responding groan pleases you more than it probably should. This. This is yours—his pleasure, his attention, him. They belong to you and you alone. Not his pretty, perky fucking date. 
The sudden possessiveness stuns you for a moment, but it's not enough to stop the feeling from consuming you. This must be how it feels for Joel. It's potent and feels so, so…right. You're starting to think you've felt this way for a while.
"I needed you, and you made me wait so fucking long," you gasp against his lips, and the fingers cradling your face tense. You’re still fisting his shirt, nearly hard enough to tear, and you wrench it up from where it’s tucked into his pants. 
"M'sorry, darlin', I know. I know I did,” he rasps back, following your lead and dropping his hands from your cheeks so he can unbuckle his jeans. “M'gonna make it up to ya. Tell me what you want, I’ll give it to ya.”
You want everything. Everything he has to give, you want it all. After everything you've been through, the hurt he caused you, you deserve it. And right now, what you want is for him to feel so good, he'll never go on a date with someone who isn't you ever again.
Sharp gravel bites into your bare skin as you drop to your knees in front of him. He's already so hard under all that heavy fabric and looks desperate above you. Just as desperate as you are for him to replace the flavor of Jesse's tequila and lime on your tongue with something saltier and headier, and undeniably Joel.
You hastily unbutton and unzip his jeans, not wasting any more of the precious time you have left together, before tugging them down just enough to free his cock and balls. He looks...fucking mouth-watering—flushed and red and leaking, and so goddamn thick. You wrap your hand around him and he sighs gratefully, dribbling precum onto your fingers.
"This is what I want," you finally reply, keeping your eyes locked on his as you lean forward to lick a broad line up his cock. He hisses in a breath through his teeth, his thighs already beginning to tremble, and you brace your hand on one. "But you're gonna be quiet, okay? I'm gonna suck your cock and you're not gonna make a single sound."
His expression darkens, but he agrees to your terms, nonetheless.
"Sure, darlin'. Whatever you say," he nods, gazing down at you with furrowed brows. He cradles your face in his hand and brushes his thumb along your cheekbone.
The affectionate gesture isn't lost on you, but this time you accept it. Instinctively leaning into his touch, you revel in it for a brief moment before his cock pulsing a frantic rhythm against your palm becomes an unignorable distraction. But a welcome one.
"That's my boy," you mumble against the tip. Just as a pained noise escapes his parted lips, you swallow him down as far as you can take him, purposely gagging yourself on him before you can dwell on the words that accidentally just tumbled out.
Your boy. Your boy. It echoes in your mind, ricocheting wildly and painfully like a bullet. Before you can take it back, maybe even to keep you from taking it back, he buries his fingers in your hair and holds you in place. You choke around him, trying your best to breathe through your nose, but in doing so, you take in a lungful of the heady musk at his base.
The familiarity of it all sends you reeling. He only gives you a second to adjust before he's fucking into your mouth and biting back a litany of needy sounds that rival your own wet, audible gagging. Your grip on his thigh tightens as your throat relaxes, allowing you to take him deeper, and you can feel yourself clenching around nothing every time he grazes the back of your throat. 
Tears stream down your cheeks and he wipes them away with a much too tender swipe of his thumb, even as he continues to force you up and down his cock. But you're too lost in your pleasure to notice anymore. So fucking good, you feel so, so good. But you need more, and you're not willing to pull off of him just yet.
Tugging down the front of your shirt, you roll a sensitive nipple between your fingers, and, god, that helps. You imagine they're Joel's and it amplifies the sensation, though your fingertips are still too smooth and delicate. Then, they're replaced by exactly what you've been yearning for all night. 
“You don’t even know how beautiful y'look like this,” he grits out, his fingers running through your hair with one hand and roughly cupping your breast with the other. His hips stutter, and you moan around him. “Fuckin’ perfect. How are ya so fuckin’ perfect?”
Beautiful. More beautiful than her? Well, you must be, because you’re the one here on your knees, choking on his cock, and she’s still sitting in the bar wondering if her date will ever come back. 
He won’t.
You preen without meaning to, your eyes blearily finding his while you drool around him, dripping saliva down his balls and onto your bare breasts. It's as if the visual alone has him thrusting into your mouth faster, pushing your limits only as much as he knows you can take. You must look like a wet dream right now, his wet dream, with your watery eyes and swollen, split-slick lips wrapped tightly around him.
Yet, he's remained so, so quiet this entire time, just like you told him to. Joel likes his sex loud, regardless of where you are and who might hear, so if he’s following your rules, that means something. 
It means he'll do whatever it takes to have you. The realization crashes over you like a bucket of ice water, and then you're pulling off of him. 
“You’ll give me anything, right? Anything I want?” your voice cracks around the question, wrecked from the effort of taking him. His hips chase your hand as you continue to pump him, matching his previous, unforgiving pace. 
“That ain’t a question, y’know I will,” he replies breathily and without hesitation. 
You gaze up at him, praying your eyes convey all of the need and anguish and hope you've felt since the last time you slept together. Since the last time you were his.
“Fuck me," and you won't accept anything less than his all. Not that half-assed shit he would've given her. "Fuck me."
He understands. His heart rate kicks up, thrumming wildly against the palm of your hand, and you know he does.
The growl that rumbles through his chest is nearly soundless but powerful. An entire night's worth of tension culminating in a single exhaled breath, just before he drags you up and spins you around, bending you over against the wall. 
Bracing yourself on the harsh brick, you rush to give him better access, arching your back as he tugs your pants and underwear down to your knees. A callused hand runs upward, following the notches of your spine, while his other spreads across your waist, pulling your hips back onto his so you can feel him, heavy and leaking against your bare ass.
God, he’s so close to where you need him now. His knuckles graze your skin as he grips the base, pumping himself before the blunt head of his cock nudges your entrance.
But then, for some godforsaken reason, you feel a wave of panic. Time suddenly feels like it's running out, worsening with every subtle movement he makes. The ticking clock of your and Joel's relationship, perpetually stuck at two minutes to midnight, has sprung to life and that terrifies you.
You don't want him to stop—fuck, you don't want him to stop, but you know neither of you will last long once he's inside you. The build-up was too intense and this entire night has you both wound up so tight, you could snap at any moment. 
You need to savor this. The way you failed to on your couch all those weeks ago, and might not get to ever again.
“Slow,” you tell him over your shoulder, and it's equal parts a command and a plea. If this is the last time, then you want to feel it. Every thick inch of him, while he still belongs to you. “Just…go slow.”
He nods, shifting forward almost imperceptibly so he can watch your lashes flutter as you brace for the stretch.
"Don't need’ta tell me. I know how ya like it," he replies gruffly.
He does. For now, you won’t overthink it or let yourself get lost in the nostalgia of his cock nestled inside you. You’ll just enjoy it. Sex with Joel has always been mind-blowing, and here, in a dirty alleyway, pressed up against the exterior of a bar, you bet it’ll be life-changing.
It stings like it always does when he breaches your entrance, no matter how wet you are for him. Together, you hiss in a sharp breath, mutually adjusting to the overwhelming stretch that quickly ebbs into something addictive.
"Tight as all goddamn hell," he mutters to himself, rocking into you languidly. He takes his time, relishing your walls enveloping him, mesmerized by the way you suck him in until he's buried to the hilt. 
"Would'ja look at that," he continues in awe, tracing where his cock is forcing you to yield to him. "Greedy fuckin' pussy, ain't she? M'not goin' anywhere, don't'chu worry. Gonna take care of ya...make ya feel so fuckin' good..."
He's starting to babble. Not good. Not good at all. 
Broad hands grip your ass, pulling your cheeks apart so he can see how tightly you’re gripping him, and it's too much. His hips buck, startling a pained whine out of you as he rams into that spot. The one deep inside you he can only reach when he’s fucking you from behind. Your cunt clenches, fighting to keep him there, and he growls low in his throat, hungry and territorial like a wild animal.
"There it is," he nudges it again, purposefully this time. You barely manage to bite back a sob as you gush messily around him. "Christ, honey, y'sure ya still want it slow? 'Cus it sure don't sound like it."
He's patronizing you. He knows exactly what he's doing—that's his spot. He also knows it makes you loud as fuck. But he wouldn’t. There’s no way he’d go back on his word, not after he promised he’d be discreet.
"Joel. Don't," you warn him shakily, but you're already too far gone to be intimidating. 
He pulls out until just the tip is still inside you, huffing out a distinctly calculated breath.
"Don't what? Don't make ya cum nice and loud on my cock? 'Fraid I can't do that, darlin'."
That's all the warning you get before he slams in hard. Your jaw drops, and you're positive you couldn't have stopped the wail punched out of your chest even if you'd tried.
Wrong. You’re wrong again, and you should’ve known better. It’s not the first time he’s gone back on his word, remember? Joel’s shitty lack of communication is why you’re here in the first place. Sure, he agreed to be quiet, but he never said anything about you.
He establishes a brutal pace that has you scrabbling against the wall for purchase and slapping a hand over your mouth in a futile attempt to muffle the desperate cries being forced from your body.
Please, don’t be outside. Please, please, Jesse. Don’t still be outside. 
But your luck's officially run out. 
Heavy mahogany crashes into solid brick, echoing down the alleyway, and a raucous group of people spills out onto the street, barely 30 feet from where your ass and tits are out for anyone to see. Then, the deep baritone of Jesse's voice cuts through the rest, and your blood immediately turns to ice. 
You're fucked. You're about to get caught and expose your secret to the entire town, except...Joel isn't stopping. Fuck, he's—
Yanking your entire body up and ripping your hand away from your mouth, rutting into you like he was just waiting for an audience. He snakes a hand up your stomach to palm at your chest, squeezing firmly to anchor himself as he fucks up into you with all the force he can muster.
And it turns you on so much, you finally stop caring. Fuck it. Fuck this town. Fuck everyone in that bar who made you feel like a goddamn pariah for months, crucifying you for the unforgivable sin of getting your heart broken. 
You hope his date's standing out there, too, so she can hear everything she'll never get to have. So they can all see that Joel Miller isn't the crushed, cruelly dumped old man they all thought he was.
Your moans ring out, loud and high-pitched, all but drowning out the messy slap of his hips into the drenched curve of your ass.
"That's it, darlin', let it all out," he chuckles darkly against the shell of your ear. Your next moan tapers into a drawn-out keen that he mimics, his thrusts getting shallow and sloppy. "S'for me, right? Let 'em know you're makin' all those pretty noises just for me."
Christ, you're close. And he's as close as you are, you can feel it. You turn your head, nodding jerkily into his shoulder.
"S'for you, Joel—mmph, just for you. Only for you," your words slur as he continues to bounce you on his cock. 
"Tell 'em you're mine, darlin’. Not just here," he pants raggedly, desperation coating his words. "Everywhere. You're mine everywhere."
The voices are getting closer, about to pass the mouth of the alley, and the ice in your veins quickly thaws, turning to molten lava. They'll definitely be able to able to hear you, but can they see you? For the umpteenth time tonight, you decide you really don't give a shit. You've got none left. You and Joel, that's all that matters now. 
His hand drops between your legs, thick fingers swirling tight, slick circles into your clit while he waits for you to confirm what he already knows. You've said it again and again—weeks ago, wrapped up in his arms, and earlier tonight, after the worst argument you've had since the breakup. 
And you’ll tell him again in this alley as you cum blindingly hard around his cock. Third time's the charm.
"Y-yours, Joel. I'm always yours."
His hips completely lose their rhythm, and he barely has time to breathe out his contentment before the violent convulsing of your cunt and contrasting serenity of your words send him hurtling over the edge.
"That's my girl."
He crashes his lips into yours, swallowing every noise you make as the group finally comes into view. Their drunken chattering and roughhousing aren't enough to draw your attention away from each other, but the depraved sounds of Joel continuing to fuck you through your release captures theirs almost immediately.
A few of them stop to squint into the darkness, trying their best to pinpoint what everyone already knows is happening further down the alley. As they inch closer, they can just barely make out two connected figures, and the wind carrying muffled gasps and labored breathing with it into the street all but confirms it.
"Y'all seein' this?" they whisper amongst themselves, but in the inebriated state they're in, they might as well be yelling.
And that's what pulls you and Joel back to reality. Shit. Shit. So, this is it, then. You tense in Joel's arms, waiting to get called out as the slutty girl who seduced her ex away from his date. Hell, they're not even wrong. You can feel his cum dribbling out of you, and can't help but think maybe you'd deserve it.
From where you're standing, you recognize each and every one of their faces under the string lights, and you know damn well that none of them can keep their mouths shut. Except...wait a second. They're still glancing back and forth between you and Joel in the shadows and each other. 
Oh. The fucking shadows. None of them can see shit. They have no clue who the hell they're looking at. Joel must've caught on around the same time you did, because now he's backing up, putting more distance between you and the looming crowd. Before they can get any closer, one of the younger guys cuts in front to block their path.
“C’mon, it's probably a couple’a teenagers. Just let ‘em be," he drawls, glancing back at you. Your eyes lock, and you're suddenly so grateful, you could cry. It's Jesse. He shoots you a wink before turning back to the group, shaking his head in mock admonishment. "Don't act like y'all weren't doin' the same damn thing at their age."
By some miracle, it fucking works. They all laugh in agreement, appeased by Jesse's quick thinking. One by one, they follow each other out of the alley and back onto the road to continue their original path home. Jesse lingers. 
"Glad y'all figured things out," he calls out over his shoulder, giving you privacy to tug your shirt back up. He clears his throat awkwardly before continuing, "Look, I, uh...distracted as many people as I could from comin' over here, but if y'all were gonna be that loud, maybe you should'a figured things out at home."
Jesse shakes his head again, chuckling to himself as he shoves his hands into his pockets.
"Anyway, y'all have a good night, now. Get home safe."
As he jogs away to catch up with the rest of the group, you start to laugh, too. You can’t help it. It feels cathartic, relieving some of the tension of this overly eventful night.
Joel’s body begins to shake behind you, his chest rumbling with what you realize is deep-bellied laughter. It gradually increases in volume as it melds seamlessly with yours; transitory, white clouds of condensation that intertwine, then dissipate.
You feel him slip out as he starts to soften, and then he turns you to face him, carefully crowding you into the wall. He kisses you again, this time slow and deliberate like you asked him to earlier. His tongue meets yours, gasps exchanged and treasured like you have all the time in the world. 
When he parts from you, it feels reluctant, but he stays close, whispering his next words against your lips.
“M’gonna get ya cleaned up, alright?” he mumbles, dropping his arm from around your waist to run his fingers up the cum leaking down your thighs. You shiver as they continue up, slipping his release back inside you. “Don’t…,” he continues, squeezing his eyes shut as his forehead drops to yours, “…just—don’t go anywhere. Please. I’ll be right back.”
Maybe he’s trying to protect himself from the response he anticipates you’ll give him, but that seems silly after everything you’ve been through tonight. You cup his cheek and thumb the coarse, trimmed hairs of his beard, willing him to open his eyes. He does, hesitantly, one then the other, and you offer him a soft smile.
“I’m not going anywhere, Joel.”
An intoxicating breath fans across your face, and the taut muscles in his neck and shoulders loosen. His lips match the soft quirk of your own and, then, brush fleetingly against your cheekbone as he backs away and disappears through a metal side door you didn't notice before. The moment it clicks shut, you slump against the wall. 
Christ. Your mind is simultaneously blank and racing a mile a minute. Taking a deep breath, you let your head thunk into solid, grounding brick while you wait for even a single coherent thought to take root. What now? What happens next? 
There's no coming back from tonight. You both made choices you'll have to answer for, but, for some reason, that doesn't seem so scary anymore. The clock is ticking, but there's time. Plenty of it.
You're still lost in your reverie when Joel gets back with a thick wad of damp paper towels. You snort at the idea of him suddenly appearing in Seth's kitchen and having to explain himself, but maybe the racket you kicked up right outside his door was explanation enough.
"Seth didn't give you any shit for stealing his stuff?" you ask as Joel drops to his knees and coaxes one of your legs over his shoulder.
The cold air has already started to leach the warmth from the paper towels, and they feel cool as he slides them along your soiled skin. He huffs out a laugh.
"Nah, the kitchen was empty. Think they're startin' to close up for the night." 
When he finishes your first thigh, he surprises you by leaning in to press a soft kiss against your freshly cleaned skin. He nips at you teasingly before starting on the next one.
You hum in response, threading your fingers through his hair and watching fondly as he pays careful attention to his task. He continues to wipe away his drying release, trailing his lips down your thigh as he goes, until he finishes at your knee.
He gazes up at you with a charmingly crooked grin, and that’s when it finally slips out. The single coherent thought you’ve been waiting for.
“I love you, Joel,” you murmur, brushing your fingertips across his cheek. 
His smile falters. Then, it drops completely and your heart shatters. You don’t understand. But that—no. No, it doesn’t make any fucking sense. After everything that’s happened, how could you have been wrong again?
Joel sighs, grimacing as he slowly gets back up. He braces himself on one knee, clearly aching more than he's letting on, but when you reach down to offer him a hand, he refuses your help.
“S’fine, I got it. Just…,” he gestures to your jeans, still hanging loosely around your knees. You pull them up, fighting not to feel humiliated as he rises to his full height. 
You search his eyes for…something. Anything. Any indication of what he’s feeling right now, but they’re blank. Cold and distant, just like they were the night he left you. 
No. He doesn’t get to do this to you again. Not after everything you’ve been through. Not without an explanation. Not if he doesn’t want to lose you forever.
“Tell me why you broke up with me."
For a long time, you genuinely believed you could live without knowing the truth, but somewhere along the line, it began to eat away at you. Now, you want the real reason. He owes you that, at the very least.
You wait while he either works himself up to it or tries to figure out what bullshit to tell you this time. Once his hands settle on his hips, you know with absolute certainty it's the latter.
“Darlin’…,” he starts wearily, but you shoot him a look that stops him in his tracks. He doesn't get to call you that right now, and he knows it. Pausing, he nods grimly before beginning again. "We already talked about this. I’m no good for ya. It was only a matter of time before ya woke up one day and realized it for yourself.”
There it is. That same bullshit reason. You scoff bitterly, not surprised in the slightest.
“What the fuck does that even mean, Joel? We were together for years. If that was gonna happen, don’t you think it would’ve already?" you counter angrily. 
You're trying not to get emotional. This can't be a repeat of what happened last time, but it's dragging up too many painful memories. It's always the same fight. You can't do this anymore.
"You know what? Fuck you," you seethe as your self-control slips completely. "Fuck you for making that decision for me. You had no right."
At your words, his face crumples and he has the nerve to look ashamed. Maybe even a little hurt. His pained expression makes your heart ache, yet a nastier part of you believes it's only fair that he feels this way, too. He sighs, his eyes dropping wistfully to his feet.
“I did what I thought was best," he mumbles quietly as if he doesn't want to be heard. It's hard for him to say this out loud, and you realize it's because he's finally telling you the truth. "I just…I thought you’d be happier with someone else, someone who could give ya a family. Kids. I gave you up so you could have the life ya always wanted."
You eye him incredulously. The life you always wanted? Sure, you and Joel had toyed with the idea of having a family once upon a time, but that was never a dealbreaker. He should've known that. He should've brought it up before deciding to destroy your life together over an idealized fantasy.
“Oh, here we go. Joel, the fucking savior. Mr. Fix-It, swooping in to save everyone and solve every problem," you hurl back venomously. But it was a cruel thing to say, and you immediately hate yourself for it.
Rationally, you know his intentions were kind. He probably even thought he was being selfless. But he hurt you, and, through your tunnel vision, that's all you can see. You push yourself off the wall, stalking closer to where he stands, still refusing to look at you.
"So what, you thought you’d dump me and I’d immediately shack up with some other asshole? Is that really what you think of me?”
His eyes shoot up to yours and his fingers begin to tap restlessly at his sides. Now, you've pissed him off. 
“Don't go puttin’ words in my mouth. That ain’t true and you fuckin’ know it," he all but growls, his body shaking with a turbulent combination of frustration and adrenaline.
You're starting to feel it, too. This conversation is overwhelming both of you, but he still hasn't told you everything. There's a piece missing, keeping all of his disjointed reasonings from adding up. He's holding back and it's time for him to stop.
“Then what is, Joel?" you plead with him to give you a definitive answer. One that finally explains why you had to lose everything. Ellie, your home. The love of your life. "What’s the truth?"
Then, everything he's kept bottled up inside and allowed to poison his happiness claws its way out as a single, unwavering statement. 
“I’m too fuckin’ old for you!”
The silence that follows his admission is deafening. You watch in shock as he runs a hand through his hair in frustration. He's never yelled like that before or looked so defeated. By something as innocuous as his age. 
It isn't something you'd ever considered, not before your relationship and never once during. But he did. His bottom lip starts to tremble as he turns and takes a few steps away from you.
“Every day, I’d watch ya…offerin’ to take more shifts, spendin’ time at the school with Ellie and the kids," he says softly, shaking his head as he works through his next words. "And every day, I’d feel it. My body givin’ out on me, more and more. My blood pressure’s up, my goddamn knees are creakin’. Couldn’t even fuckin’ stand up on my own just now." 
When he turns back to you, his eyes are wet with unshed tears. He feels too far, but you know you can't go to him, yet. He's not finished.
"You can do better than that. You deserve better than that," his voice cracks and your whole world blurs into a wash of colors. “You’re gonna outlive me by a mile. I’m an old man, darlin’. It wasn’t fair for me to keep ya.”
For a while, you just watch each other. Tears overflow and continuously spill down his cheeks and yours, but neither of you moves to wipe them away. 
None of this is fair. You're both miserable and heartbroken, perpetually yearning for a love you've told yourselves you can't have. Months ago, Joel made a choice for both of you. You won't make the same mistake he did.
"I didn't want fair, Joel. I wanted you. A life with you...," your face screws up as you fight back a sob, "...the rest of my life with you, however long that is."
Joel takes a tentative step forward, carefully reaching out to touch you, but stops himself before he can get too close. He looks afraid...of you. Scared of the consequences of allowing you back into his heart. 
A sob escapes your chest, then, and you wrap your arms around yourself, suddenly bitterly cold and wanting nothing more than for Joel to hold you. To tell you for the first time since the breakup that he loves you and, regardless of time, won't ever stop.
So, you cross the alleyway and cup his wet cheeks in your hands, wiping away his sadness and, hopefully, his fears. He melts into the poignant familiarity of your touch and it makes you brave. This time, you'll be brave enough for both of you.
"Don't I deserve that?" you whisper, close enough to share his next breath. He watches your lips, hanging onto your every word. "Don't you?" 
His eyes meet yours, and it finally happens. The moment Joel gives in and decides to let himself be happy. He nods slowly in your grasp, reaching up to cradle your hand on his cheek. 
"Dunno what I deserve, darlin'. Not after the things I've done and the hurt I put ya through. But if I'm...if this is really what ya want...," he hesitates, his voice thick with tears and, yet, still that full-bodied, twang that sounds like home. "I'm yours. 'Til my last breath, I'm yours."
He kisses you before either of you can start crying again, and it's all there. The love he kept under lock and key to protect you, released from the prison of his own making.
His kiss feels different again. There's no hunger or rush, and the possessiveness—the need to devour everything you have to give so there's nothing left for anyone else—is gone. He's sure, now, that there's no one else you'd rather give yourself to.
His arms circle your waist and he pulls you closer, crushing you into time-worn chambray and sullied denim as you continue to explore each other like a pair of horny teenagers. Two lovers learning to give and take for the first time. Time passes slowly in this space you've carved out for yourselves, even as the moon continues to rise in the night sky and floods the corridor with light. 
Then, noisily and as if right on cue, the last-call crowd stumbles from the bar and immediately catches what the previous group missed. You and Joel separate, dazed but unhurried, to find that it's them. 
It has to be fucking kismet that, of everyone in Jackson, the first to witness your reconciliation would be the biggest blabbermouths in the entire town. The same women who talked shit about you every day for months and constantly vied for Joel's attention, standing there with wide eyes and slack jaws.
Their varied expressions almost make you want to laugh, and you can't help but snort unattractively into Joel's shoulder. Half of them are glaring at you, and the rest look either devastated or genuinely surprised. Guess you were better at hiding your arrangement than you thought, not that it matters anymore. It's a relationship again, and everyone's about to know all about it. Joel clears his throat, drawing their attention back to him.
"Evenin', ladies. S'there somethin' we can help ya with?" he drawls, breaking out the Southern charm that endeared every single one of them to him in the first place.
They all shake their heads, looking a little too pleased with themselves once the initial shock wears off and they realize you've just given them the gossip of the century. After a few fake, high-pitched pleasantries, they slink away as quickly as they came, already chatting to themselves about some shit you'll definitely hear tomorrow at breakfast. You watch them go, feeling oddly liberated.
"Guess the cat's outta the bag, huh?" You wrap your arms loosely around his neck, still chuckling softly to yourself. Joel huffs out a laugh, too, bending down to kiss the crown of your head before nodding in agreement.
"'Fraid so," he muses, amusement and a hint of something lighter glinting in his eyes. 
You haven't seen him this relaxed in a long time. As he holds you in his arms, he leans a fraction of his weight on you to ease the night's strain on his back and knees, and it makes you feel needed. Relied on. That's new, Joel depending on you like this. Things are going to be different this time around, you can tell. They already are. 
You hum, ruminating on what awaits you after your first night back in your own bed, in your own home. What everyone will think and say—to your face and behind your back—when they find out you're back together. Though, the only opinions you give a shit about are Ellie, Tommy, and Maria's, anyway.
So, yeah, you're a lot of things right now: exhausted, yet relieved and so full of hope. But you're not afraid, the cat and the bag be damned.
"I'm not," you tell him honestly as you pull away. You let your hands trail from his shoulders, down his arms, until his hands are in yours. 
Tugging gently, you walk him backward out of the alley, away from the bar and plummeting winter chill, and any lingering, prying eyes. Even the moon and stars have no stake in what comes next. This moment, right here and now, belongs to you and Joel, alone.
"Take me home, Joel."
The light in his eyes burns brighter, amusement giving way to adoration and contentment. He's been waiting for this, to be given the privilege of keeping you safe and taking care of you the way he needs to—it's how he shows love. 
He slots his fingers between yours and leads you down the empty streets of Jackson. 
"Darlin', nothin' would make me happier."
thanks for reading!
2K notes · View notes
fbfh · 1 year
Text
rodrick x hyperfeminine reader hcs
wc: 2.3k
genre: mutual pining, contrasting aesthetics
pairing: rodrick x hyperfeminine reader (fem/she her/referred to as a girl)
summary: you're new at school and it takes a painfully long time for you to find the only hot guy there. he's had a massive painful crush on you since you first set foot through the door.
warnings: reader is a little insecure/anxious and copes through hyperfemininity, rodrick has low self esteem and dyslexia, they both think they have no chance with the other one, jocks keep asking you out, you're friends with Heather and Madison
a/n: obsessed with this dynamic. when you finally date everyone is so fucking confused lmao
@dustyinkpages @the-snake-pit @yesv01
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First of fucking all
Match made in heaven
On your first day of school at Crossland you turned a whole lot of heads 
You figure you should make a statement and decide to channel your idol, Elle Woods
You show up to school in a pink mini skirt blazer set, a little halter top with a heart cut out, and matching pink heels
You’re obviously rocking your signature scent, strawberry pound cake body spray and matching strawberry fizz flavored lip gloss
You did a mani pedi and a facial over the weekend to destress 
You walk in quickly to avoid the people that are staring at you for some reason, unintentionally strutting through the halls in a way that appears totally confident 
You reach the office to get your schedule and tuck it into your heart shaped bag along with your sunglasses 
You make sure to smile and be extra friendly with all the teachers and administrative staff, and in every class where you have to introduce yourself over and over, you try to project what you hope is an approachable friendliness 
People were already starting to whisper about the living barbie doll that just showed up out of nowhere, and these whispers reached none other than Heather Hills
She grabs Madison and tries to hunt you down
To confront you for trying to steal her place as the prettiest most popular girl there
Before she can threaten you, you’re asking her where the good boutiques in town are
You have such a unique, sunshiney charm that she totally forgets what she came to talk to you about
Before she knows it, you and her and Madison have plans to go shopping this weekend
You praise yourself for making a couple friends on the first day, not realizing you accidentally waltzed your way into the elusive popular girl clique 
By the end of the day, you have entirely by accident established yourself as queen bee of the school
As time goes on, you’re relieved that at least some of the people at Crossland are so friendly
Sometimes people say hi to you, and you always reply with a smile or wave or hi back
But a lot of the time people just stare at you
You’re somewhat used to it since not a lot of people wear nearly as much pink as you do
Or glitter
Or use a fuzzy pink strawberry scented glitter gel pen for all their homework
So you try to chalk it up to that 
As the days go on, everyone thinks they know exactly what to expect from you
You’re like Heather 2.0, just a little nicer 
Which is almost worse
When Heather is mean to everyone she doesn’t like (which is almost everyone) at least they have a reason to hate her
But you??
You’re so elusive 
You don’t have a ton of friends, you don’t go out of your way to go party unless Heather and Madison drag you there
But what’s weird is that you’ve turned down every guy who’s actually worked up the courage to ask you out
Every single guy at crossland wants to ask you out
But when the captain of the football team 
And the quarterback 
And the hottest guy in your grade all asked you out
And the whole school watched you politely turn them down one after the other
No one else thought they stood a chance
Heather and Madison think you’re crazy for turning them down
“I just… I’m not really into guys like that.” you say dismissively
“Hot jocks?” Heather demands
You would have said the type of guys who’d have bullied you in middle school, but now doesn’t seem like the right time to bring that up
“Yeah.” you agree, and eventually they stop pressing you
Your status of queen bee is even more solidified by the rumors rampantly spreading that not only are you unimaginably hot
But you’re also impossible to date
This becomes common knowledge after a while
Until one day when you’re running late to school
Heather’s still complaining about having to turn around and pick up her sister
“I mean, you were the one who forgot her at your house…” Madison starts, piping down fast when Heather glares at her
As you all get out of her convertible, tires screech behind you
A beat up white van with spray paint writing on the side parks haphazardly next to the curb
Muffled guitar and drums blast out of the car speakers, and as the driver opens the door, you recognize it as green day
Your eyes widen, and you lag behind to try and get a look at the driver
Heather’s ranting about something, and Madison grabs your arm, pulling you along as you watch the driver stumble out and trip on the curb
He has messy black hair, eyeliner, and he’s wearing a well loved ramones shirt
As if that wasn’t enough, he shoves the drumsticks he’s holding into his back pocket, poking out awkwardly 
“Who is that?” you ask
Heather and Madison whip around, ecstatic that you finally found someone at school you think is hot
They scan the scattered crowd of other late students trying to make it inside before first bell
“Who?” Heather demands, looking straight past the guy at the captain of the football team who you’d turned down for the fourth time earlier this week. “Brent? You know Brent.” 
A twinge of jealousy flashing through her voice as she finishes, desperate for more information
“No,” you say, pointing. “The guy who looks like Billie Joe Armstrong.”
“Who?” they both demand, still looking right past him
“Black hair, black shirt…”
Finally they see him
“Heffley??” Heather demands, holding back a gag at his name. “No, no, no. Not him, anyone but him.” 
She shudders, pushing past both of you to go inside
You’re stuck in place, watching him greet his friends and laugh loudly as they shove each other hello
Madison leans in close
“That’s Rodrick. His god awful band ruined Heather’s sweet 16 and she’s still pissed about it. Going near him is social suicide.” 
It suddenly makes sense that you haven’t bumped into the only hot guy at school yet
If you’re always with Heather and Heather avoids him like the plague… 
Madison drags you inside, and you’re already trying to figure out a way to talk to him
Just because you didn’t know Rodrick exited before now, doesn’t mean he hasn’t been drooling over you since you showed up at Crossland
“Uh, dude… was she just staring at you?” Ward says once Madison finally drags you inside, forcing you to break your unwavering stare you had locked on Rodrick 
He turns around quickly, looking for a more logical explanation for you looking in his direction as some football players walk past 
“She must have been looking at Brent.” he decides
“No dude,” Ben punches his arm, “she was totally making eyes at you.” 
They all laugh at the ridiculousness of the statement as he drags himself to his first class of the day
He can’t focus even more than usual
Were you staring at him? Making eyes at him like Ben had said?
He stares at the back of your head in all your shared classes, which is a lot of them, just like he always does 
And just like always, his mind starts to wander
Of course he’s down stupid bad for you, he doesn’t know anyone that’s not
He wonders what you smell like, what you look like up close
He wonders what your hands would feel like on his body, if you’d drag your pretty manicured nails across his skin
He imagines kissing you in such vivid detail it feels real for a few moments
Then he starts to wonder what you’d taste like 
Probably bubblegum, you usually chew it between periods when you won’t get in trouble for it
He wonders if your lip gloss is flavored
God, since the first day you showed up in this shithole he’s been thinking about you
He’s had countless dreams about you to
He always goes right back to sleep hoping he can see you again, feel your body against his, feel your lips on his skin one more time
He knows it’s hopeless, knows that even if you’ve seen him around and are vaguely aware of his existence, you don’t know his name
And why would you want to??
He’s such a teenage dirtbag he practically has rights to the song
Plus Brent is still determined to get you to go out with him
He considers himself your boyfriend already and has been threatening anyone who stares at you more than normal
Even if he could get past Brent and his own debilitating self doubt and low self esteem, you’re with Heather and Madison constantly, who still think he’s worse than mold after the incident and Heather’s sweet 16
You’re literally untouchable 
Even still, he doesn’t think he’s ever had a crush this bad
Not even back when he liked Heather
The only way he can get through classes is by spacing out the whole time (his teachers expect nothing less of course) and imagining you marching right up to him and sitting on his lap to make out with him
The only notes he takes anymore are scribbled song lyrics about you until his hand cramps up and he gets one of those nausea headache he gets from trying to write or read too much 
He thinks about you so much
It’s getting to the point where he’s thinking about you all the time
And he has absolutely no idea what to do about it
Because he doesn’t stand a chance
There’s no way in hell he could approach you, much less get you to go out with him
Plus you’ve literally turned down every guy that’s asked you out this year
Why would you want to go out with him???
Heather and Madison are wondering the same thing
You could easily pull anyone in this entire school
And now you’re making eyes at Heffley out of nowhere????
It doesn’t make sense 
They can’t pay attention for the rest of the day
Neither can you
You spend the entire day trying to figure out how to talk to him (you could just walk over to him)
How to get his attention (you already have it)
How to set up the perfect scenario to make him fall for you (he fell hard and fast long before now and has not recovered)
A party
You have to throw a party and get his band to play
Then you can corner him after the show to buy a cd and see if you can get it to go somewhere
It’s perfect
Plus Heather’s been telling you that you should throw at least one party before the school year is over
You tell Heather you want to throw a party this weekend
She’s ecstatic, thinking you’re finally moving on to something better to focus on
She and Madison are so busy helping you get everything ready they don’t notice you staring at Rodrick in the halls every chance you get and never managing to get him to look over at you
You’re so busy throwing an elaborate rager of a party to try and seduce him like Jay Gatsby that you don’t notice him staring at you when you’re not looking too
You can’t let anything ruin your chance with Rodrick 
Nothing can possibly go wrong
So when Brent asks you out again at lunch you turn him down more definitively than you have before
You tell him you’re just not into him like that, and to please stop asking you out
He’s never had someone tell him that they’re not attracted to him and want nothing to do with him 
It was definitely a much needed blow to his self esteem
Rumors that you broke up with Brent (even though you weren’t dating in the first place) spread like wildfire 
So after school when you manage to slip away from Heather and Madison for long enough to approach Rodrick and ask him and his band to play at your party this weekend 
It feels like a fucking dream
Not only do they have a gig
But it’s at your party???? 
It feels fake
It feels like something his touch starved hormonal brain would concoct to distract him from what he should be thinking about
They start trying to figure out sets and extra practice time before your party
And Ben insists the whole time that you were making eyes at him
Except this time Rodrick kind of believes him
There’s no way this means he has a chance with you, right??
He watches you walk away
And as you walk away, you let out an excited suppressed giggle that you actually talked to him
You’re still flustered and blushing under all your makeup, fanning your warm face as you hop into the passenger seat of Heathers convertible 
“What’s up with you?” she asks, noticing your distracted state
“I’m just… really excited for this party.” you smile, biting your lip
You don’t think about a thing other than him for the rest of the day
You decide this party really cannot come soon enough
If you play your cards right
You might even get him to like you back
You ruminate on this as you start picking out an outfit - in your signature pink, of course - completely unaware that Rodrick is already rehearsing for your party
And thinking about you just as much
6K notes · View notes
zreamy · 10 months
Text
spf 23
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pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader
summary: for as long as you can remember, your summers have been much the same, largely spent in your hometown, relaxing by the local pool. when you get back home this summer, things seem like they'll go the same way, until you get to the pool that is — when did the lifeguard get so hot?
genres: smut, fluff, people that kinda know each other to lovers, summer au, lifeguard au..
warnings: minors dni, MENTIONS OF UNIVERSITY DURING SUMMER, sunghoon in water, sunghoon on ice, sunghoon
word count: 31,818 .. even more sorry than last time.
playlist: kiss nct dojaejung, obvious ariana grande, safety net ariana grande
author's note: lmk ur thoughts (positive / negative / sunghoon) i'd love to hear. to beta bestie @asahicore u da best MUSIC DJ EMMAAA. i hope u have a good time reading, lord knows this has been a long time coming.. ok enjoy &lt;;333
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It’s the hottest day of the last summer of your life. 
The sun’s rays coat your skin in a film of sticky sweat and sunscreen. Crisp white clouds hang in the sky, drifting overhead. Yunjin complains about the temperature as if you and Chaewon aren’t outside with her.
If you strain your ears over yelling children and raucous laughter, you can just about hear a Top 40 playlist looping Cupid and Dua Lipa songs through age-weakened speakers. What holds your attention the most, though, is the blond by the pool. He leans back on his hands with pretty fingers spread out behind him. He’s been lifeguarding at the public pool for more summers than you care to count but he’d never looked like this while he did it. 
Park Sunghoon seems relaxed as he sits on the pool’s edge, kicking his legs in the water and scanning the space. Presumably watching out for kids drowning, or diving, or.. whatever it is lifeguards get up to at work. His voice is deep as he (half-heartedly) yells at a group of kids with water guns to stop running. When did he get so buff?
He’s always been attractive. Always. But this is outrageous. The bleached hair. The toned arms. The sliver of skin you can see peeking out from under his cropped vest. It’s almost too much to take yet you can’t bring yourself to look away. Given the way he turns his head when you catch his gaze — with flushed cheeks and upturned lips — you assume his glow-up has been purely external. 
“Can you believe this might be the last summer we spend here together? Like, this time next year we’ll be graduates.” Yunjin’s sudden statement makes you wish she’d go back to talking about the weather. 
Chaewon’s jaw drops. “Whoa.”
“Is it bad that I’m looking forward to fall?” Yunjin asks. “No offence, YN.” 
This isn’t the first time she’s shared such a sentiment. Last summer and the one before, she’d said something similar before clarifying. She’s excited about her new classes, not about you going back to your apartment a few towns over.
You’re only looking forward to your shared two-bed and Minjeong’s dinners. It pains you to have to thank university for anything, but thank university for giving you something to miss over the holidays. 
“None taken, YJ, but break just started last week.” 
“Our last finals were five weeks ago.”
“Well, you know break doesn’t really start until our girl gets back.” Chaewon leans up in her seat to grin at you. She raises her cup, the tiny puddle of melted slushy shaking a little. “Here’s to the best summer ever!” 
Needing all the affirmation you can get, you entertain her, raising your own cup so the three of you can toast properly. 
“Cheers!”
The next few hours do nothing to affirm your belief in the effectiveness of toasting. Recently hot Sunghoon hasn’t taken his shirt off yet and you’re not sure how many more times you can beg your friends to stay for another half hour in hopes something will happen that causes him to tear the thing off. At this point you’d settle for a simple conversation or even the word hey.
“I’m begging, like, actually, let’s go.” Yunjin groans, sitting up.
“Just let me pee first,” you grumble, attempting to buy more time as you stand up from your lounge chair, packing up your towel and the magazine you never bothered to look at. 
On your walk to the restroom, you see him leaning in the doorframe of the changing rooms with his toned arms crossed over his chest. Perfect. There’s a smile on your face as you approach him and unexpectedly he speaks before you do. 
"He—" He clears his throat, thick brows coming together as he places a big hand on his chest. "Hey."
You let out a breathy laugh. “You okay?” 
He straightens up his posture and nods his head, blond hair shifting over his forehead from the movement. 
The sounds of the public pool fill the silence stretching over you, though it’s not enough to distract you from the way his eyes trail over your body, landing on your chest as his tongue darts out to wet his lips. 
“I’m Sunghoon,” he eventually introduces, extending a hand for you to shake. 
A smile stretches across your lips when you do, noticing how much bigger his hand is than yours when his fingers wrap around it and cover the whole thing. “I know,” you nod.
“You,” Sunghoon pauses, tilting his head to the side as if considering your words. “Know?” His brows quirk up. 
You hum in response. “We had Spanish together. You sat with.. that kid,” Your hands come up to gesture around your chin and neck. “With the jaw, Jay, was it?” 
He looks at something over your shoulder for a bit while you worry that he didn’t take Spanish and you’ve got the wrong guy, but a laugh rises out of him instead. “Yeah,” he grins. “Jay.” Nods his head.
Despite stuttering his way through the conversation, Sunghoon makes you laugh as he tells you about how he didn’t realise he’d have to swim on the job and almost drowned trying to save a kid in the deep end. He seems more confident after seeing that his story was well received though he still fidgets with his hands, and can’t hold eye contact for more than a second at a time, always looking away and clearing his throat. 
The story was a bit of a ramble, and it might be the most words you’ve ever heard him say all at once before falling quiet, though his pretty lips open and close a few times as if he’s stuck on what to say. “How-” He’s cut off by the sound of someone yelling his name. 
In the pool, a cute (and very tall) kid waving his arms above his head yelling: Quickly! Quickly! makes you laugh, and the way Sunghoon rolls his eyes makes it clear he knows him.
Much to your dismay, the yelling doesn’t stop and you realise you’ll have to make your exit. “I’ll let you get going, but, uh, say hi to Jay for me, okay?” you say, grinning at the way he nods his head, mumbling yeah, of course before you turn around to leave.
Sunghoon’s still standing in the spot you left him in, hands crossed over his chest as he eyes you. Head snapping in the other direction when you look back over your shoulder to call out a: Later, Hoonie, with a wave of your fingers.
Chaewon watches you over her sunglasses with a smirk on her face as you approach. “Who is that?”
You crinkle your nose. “Park Sunghoon.”
At the sound of his name, Yunjin gasps, abruptly sitting up in her chair. “The figure skater?”
“The what?”
At home, you type his name into the search bar and find that the shy boy you’d only met properly some hours ago is something of a celebrity in the skating world. 
You watch YouTube videos of his short programs and feel a swell of pride with each jump he lands. The tiny Sunghoon on the screen carries an air of confidence as he glides across the ice — nothing like the Sunghoon you’d met at the pool today. And definitely nothing like the quiet Sunghoon who’d sit in the back of your 9th grade Spanish class conjugating verbs as his friends got into trouble for talking over the teacher. 
It’s not hard to trip down a rabbit hole, and suddenly every video with his name in the title has a little red bar under the thumbnail as a mark of your affection. It doesn’t take long for you to find Instagram user smartblond, and the blue follow button on his page greets you with the option to follow back, which leaves you feeling a little bad as the pad of your thumb falls onto it unthinkingly. 
Sunghoon’s feed leaves much to be desired. A modest 1 post he’d made 4 years prior, a square photo of himself and Lee Heeseung with bros as the caption. The only comment is from Heeseung who wrote ma boiiii. The tagged photos however tell a different story. 
Thankfully.  
You spend longer than you’d like to admit scrolling through these pictures, grinning and ignoring the way your stomach flips at the sight of the seemingly outgoing boy captured in the pictures posted by his closest friends with wide smiles and middle fingers while trying not to hit like on any of them. Even though you do like them. A lot. Except for the one of him and Bae Sumin at the pool with pretty smiles on their faces, and their arms around each other that she posted 15 weeks ago with the caption lifesaver. A smile spreads on your lips when you see Sumin’s (way more populated) page and the post she made yesterday to celebrate two years with her boyfriend. 
Distraction only reaches you in the form of an alert from your university’s portal app. The words you’ve got new correspondence in your inbox wipe the smile from your face in an instant. While chewing at your lip, you click on the notification and wait for the email to load. 
A pit forms in your stomach while reading four paragraphs offering advice for people who’ve failed their final exams. At the end is a link that you click with squinted eyes. A countdown appears and there are 8 days, 12 hours, 2 minutes and 17 seconds until results are out.
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During your next trip to the pool, you hear Sunghoon before you see him and his voice comes out in a cute whine when he speaks. “Why do you guys only wanna hang out here when I'm working?” 
Looking over your sunglasses, you see him running a hand through his hair, looking up from the water at a group of boys you recognise from both high school and his tagged photos, including the very tall kid who’d cut your conversation short the other day. With a wide grin on his face, he slings a towel over his shoulder and calls out something about the concession stand before running for the changing rooms and ignoring Sunghoon’s cries to stop. 
His back flexes deliciously as he wades around the mostly empty pool, chatting to his friends, and in all of your staring you notice Jay’s eyes on you, looking back to Sunghoon after a while and nodding his head not so subtly in your direction.
You look at Yunjin in the lounge chair next to you, who stares at the remnants of your blue raspberry slushy with disgust on her face, finishing off her cherry-flavoured one. “I said thanks when you came back with them, it’s abnormal to want this much recognition over a £1 purchase,” you say defensively, sighing and thanking her again anyways. 
“You should thank Sunghoon’s giant friend,” she says, nodding in his direction. “He came over to me in the line, asked how I knew you, and gave me change when I told him Chaewon introduced us.” 
“Huh,” you say, taking a refreshing sip, the last, before putting your cup down between your chairs. 
“I don’t understand what you see in that insane flavour.” She leans over to put her now empty cup next to yours. “It’s.. unnatural,” she says, shuddering dramatically. 
“It’s the only flavour I like,” you say simply, watching in your peripheral as your new favourite lifeguard (not that you have an old favourite) climbs over the edge of the pool.
The sight of Sunghoon’s lean figure coming out of the pool only makes you regret ever wanting to see him with his shirt off. Water slips from every part of his body in droplets, running from his broad shoulders down his veiny forearms before falling from his pretty fingers onto the ground. This must be the fittest-looking person you’ve ever seen, and Kazuha can do push-ups (one) with you and Chaewon on her back. 
With his wet hair stuck to his forehead, he laughs at something one of his friends said and it’s only when he looks over at you that you’re able to tear your eyes away. 
You miss the sight as soon as it’s gone. 
“That’s absurd,” Yunjin says after a moment. You have no idea what she’s talking about. “Can I open the Skittles?”
You’d forgotten about those. “Go ahead.” 
While rummaging through your bag, Yunjin tells you quietly that Sunghoon’s coming though you barely have a chance to look at him before his shadow casts over the two of you, stark and vivid. With his arms crossed over his chest, Sunghoon towers over you. His red shorts cling onto his hips, so low you can see every inch of muscle definition spanning his stomach where little beads of water stare you dead in the eye. By the time you manage to look up at his face, he has a huge grin stretched over his pretty lips. “Hey, stalker,” he says.
Though his smile falters when you crease your brows, pulling your sunglasses down your nose. “Stalker?” 
“You, uh,” he pauses to sniff, less sure of himself than earlier. “I saw that you followed me on Instagram last night.” 
“You did? And no DM?” 
No DM, he repeats under his breath, visibly confused, and the—“Ohhhh, you wanted to talk to me?” 
“Yeah, that’s why I followed you.”
“Right.” A nod. “And no DM?” Sunghoon seems to like the way you laugh, uncrossing his arms, and puffing his chest out. “So what did you wanna talk about that just couldn’t wait until you saw me again?” 
“I wanted to catch up.”
A sceptical look crosses his face. “Really? Anything specific you wanted to talk about?” 
“Not really. I just think you’re interesting.”
“Me? Interesting?” The mixture of amusement and surprise on his face makes you laugh. 
“Yes, you, interesting.” A saccharine smile spreads across your lips as you swing your legs over the side of your chair. Sunghoon apologises when your ankle grazes his calf. “Very interesting.” 
Sitting like this, your face is so close to his hips you can see the loose thread at the top of his shorts. He seems to notice, taking a step back. Down the bridge of his nose, he watches you through squinted eyes, furrowing his brow and letting a beat pass. “How so?” 
“There’s a lot of reasons, but, for one, you’re the only figure skater I know.”
So quickly you barely see it, Sunghoon’s lips curl into a frown before he presses them together, nodding. “How’s summer treating you?” He changes the subject. 
You let him. “Pretty good,” you say, bringing a hand up to the tied strap of your swimsuit to pull it to the side. “And I’m tanning pretty well, right, Sunghoon?” 
A massive cloud glides across the sky, casting a welcome shadow over the scorching sun. The transition is gradual but relief is immediate and even Sunghoon sighs. You push your sunglasses up to rest in your hair, taken aback, like always, by how bright it actually is outside. Even with the sun covered up, your eyes sting a little without the tint making you squint up at Sunghoon who watches you with an amused smile. 
“Is there something on my face?” you ask. 
“No, nothing like that.” He shakes his head. “It’s just.. nice catching up with you.”
“Yeah. It is.” You return his smile, liking the way his widens. “So, how’s summer trea—” You’re cut off by the same kid as yesterday, yelling “Sunghoooooooooon!” At the top of his lungs. 
“What were you saying?” 
“Uh,” you start, distracted by the kid pointing at Sunghoon, who waves frantically when he realises he’s caught your eye. “You, uh,” you pause, using a finger to point over to the pool. “I think your friend might need you.” 
He turns to look over his shoulder, the sun shining directly on the side of his face when he does, highlighting the pretty mole on his nose that you’ve somehow never noticed. Sunghoon shakes his head and freezing water splashes onto your stomach, making you flinch. A non-committal sound comes out of his mouth as he shrugs, facing you once again. “It’s just Riki.”
Just Riki doesn’t let up. Instead, he enlists the help of a cute cat-eyed boy, clambering onto his shoulders and balancing precariously as he yells and yells at the top of his lungs. 
“Okay, yeah, I gotta,” Sunghoon sighs, using his thumb to motion towards the pool as he walks backwards away from you. He points a long index finger at you before turning around. “I’m coming back,” he says. 
With a huge splash, Riki falls from his friend’s shoulders unceremoniously, his form disappearing for a moment, replaced by a mess of bubbles and long frantic limbs until he resurfaces. 
“I’m not here to play, I’m here to work!” Sunghoon calls out, walking right off the coping and into the water, swimming towards his friends anyway. 
He doesn’t come back. 
That night you stay at Chaewon’s, rifling through old teen magazines and taking quizzes to determine who your ‘celeb bezzie’ is. Answering mostly C’s, the two of you squeal at the prospect of a friendship with Lindsay Lohan. 
Jaehyun’s complaining when you reach the pool and you figure Yunjin and Kazuha must be nearby. Your hunch is correct when you round the corner by the water slide and see the two of them splashing each other in the small pool. He’s standing with his hands on his hips and yelling something about the literal sign that says they can’t be in there right now. The sign is a bright red fold-out thing, saying in bold white letters that the pool is closed for swimming lessons starting at 1:30 p.m. 
“It’s 1:20, you can’t be in here,” Jaehyun groans, raking a hand through his hair. “I know you guys think because we’re friends you can do what you want but the other lifeguards kicked me from the group chat and Sunghoon said it’s all your fault.” 
The mention of Sunghoon makes your ears perk up, and you decide to insert yourself. “What did they do wrong?” 
Jaehyun practically jumps at the sound of your voice next to him and Yunjin calls out for you to get in! “Don’t you dare,” Jaehyun mutters, cutting his eyes. “Whatever it is was bad enough for Mark, Yeri, and Chaeyoung to decide I’m not worthy of LIFESAVERS 2.0 swimming guy emoji, ring float emoji.” 
“If you got kicked because of them, I don’t see why Sunghoon gets to stay.” You tilt your head, stepping back a little when you feel a splash hitting your feet. “His one million-man friend group takes up half of the big pool every day, competing for who can laugh the loudest, and these two are pretty much doing the same thing.” 
“Yes, but Sunghoon’s friends aren’t breaking the rules.” 
“I saw Riki take an ice cream cone from a kid yesterday.”
“That’s not against the rules,” Jaehyun sighs. “And Chaeyoung thinks Sunghoon’s cute, so.” 
“She does?” you ask too quickly. 
“What do you care?” Jaehyun spares you a glance, arching his brow. He seems to undergo some kind of revelation, gasping a little and nodding his head. “So that’s why you guys are here all the time! You totally like that loser.” 
“Sunghoon’s not a loser, he’s hot.”
“Interesting thing to dispute.” 
You roll your eyes. “Do I need to worry about Chaeyoung?” you ask quietly.
“If you’re trying to hook up with Sunghoon I wouldn’t worry about her.”
You hate his response; hate that instead of really answering you, he’s just left you with even more questions. 
And you hate Chaeyoung for falling into your line of sight just as you mention her. 
She leaves the locker room, laughing about something with Yeri, and making you wonder what exactly she wants with Sunghoon. And why she suddenly feels like your competitor.
“And if I’m not?” 
Jaehyun cackles at your suggestion. “You? Not trying to hook up?” 
You can’t come up with a reason for why his words make your chest ache so you shove him with your elbow before jumping into the water with the girls. The sound of Jaehyun groaning and begging you guys to get out of the pool only dissolves the ache and puts a smile on your face.
Yunjin and Kazuha gang up on you for taking so long to join them but the water feels so cool against your skin you can’t help but enjoy it. 
The sound of what you think is Sunghoon’s voice makes you freeze in your spot. “I can’t keep defending you, man,” he sighs. 
At the sound of a whistle blowing, you raise your hands to cover your ears and all three of you whip your heads in its direction. Sunghoon stands next to Jaehyun with a whistle in his mouth, coughing around the metal when he sees you. He smiles, dropping it to rest against his chest. “Oh, hey.” 
“Hi,” you greet, swimming over to the edge of the pool and resting your arms on it, letting your chin find a home against them. Looking up, you see Jaehyun rolling his eyes before walking off in the opposite direction and Sunghoon stares down at you with a smile on his face.
“How are you?” he asks, fidgeting with the whistle like a charm on a necklace. 
“I’m good, how are you?” 
“Good, me too. Uh-your friends,” he pauses, clearing his throat. “I’m teaching lessons here, in five minutes, so I was wondering if you guys could maybe hang out in the main pool or by the slides instead?” he asks. It seems like he’s asking. “Only if you want.” 
“What if we’re here for lessons?” 
“Oh, I’m sorry, you guys must be the six-year-olds I’m teaching this afternoon, my bad for assuming.” 
You can’t tell if he was trying to be funny or if that was just something he said for the sake of saying it, but it makes you smile anyway. “You don’t do lessons for grown-ups?”
Sunghoon shakes his head. “I teach 6 to 12-year-olds, but Mark teaches adult classes on Saturday mornings if you’re interested.”
You nod, lifting yourself out of the pool, dripping water on the concrete. You’re close enough to Sunghoon to clearly see his jaw tensing, and the way his gaze shamelessly falls to your chest for more than a few seconds. 
“What if I’m interested in a one-on-one lesson?” 
Close enough to see the goosebumps that rise on his skin. He licks his lips, holding your gaze. “I guess we could work something out,” he says, clearing his throat when you rest a hand on his wrist, though he doesn’t look away from you. 
It seems like it’s just the two of you and the sun beating against your skin. And his pulse racing against your fingers. 
An excited wail grounds you, brings you back to the pool. “Sunghoonie! Sunghoonie!” You hear over his shoulder, as a tiny girl with pigtails and a huge grin comes rushing over to you. “Look, I got new goggles, look at my new goggles!” 
You take a step back and Sunghoon gasps, holding her Hello Kitty goggles in his hands, inspecting them carefully while crouching down to her level. In his absence, you see more, equally excited, kids plodding along, babbling to each other, followed by parents with small character backpacks slung over their shoulders. 
Sunghoon chats animatedly with her, nodding and gasping and saying really? at all the right times, in a way that summons butterflies. She giggles and holds her belly laughing when he holds her baby sized goggles over his head, asking if he can try them on, and you need to leave before you burst into tears at how sweet he’s being.
Yunjin and Kazuha beam at you when you look over at them, winking dramatically and giving you silent rounds of applause. Your cheeks burn at the sight, mumbling at them to come on, before turning around to walk away. 
“Hey, YN!” Sunghoon calls out, stopping you in your tracks. He’s standing with his arms crossed over his chest, and a small smile on his lips. “See you later, yeah?” 
“Yeah.” You nod. 
The girls have caught up to you by now, Yunjin’s eyebrows waggling suggestively as she links her fingers with yours. “Oh, he is so into you,” Kazuha whispers, wrapping a dripping arm around your shoulders. “Chaewon was right, summer really doesn’t start until you get back.”
In the main pool, you play around with the girls until you’re tired from swimming and the heat, and if it wasn’t for what Sunghoon said, you would have gone home already. You lay back in a lounge chair and close your eyes behind your sunglasses. You could probably fall asleep out here, feeling an odd comfort in the blood-curdling screams and mix of music playing from tiny bluetooth speakers all over the place. 
About five minutes later, you use your fingers to pick out a few pieces of Oreo from Yunjin’s ice cream, deciding they’ll be compensation for having to deal with the sticky dessert trickling down the cone and onto your fingers. Though in this heat, it doesn’t bother you so much.
On your trip back to your seat, you see Heeseung and Sunghoon by the locker room entrance. Standing in the shade, the two of them talk while Sunghoon lets a chunky pair of sunglasses rest on the back of his head, a sight that makes you clench your fist so hard the cone crunches under your fingers. You watch Heeseung’s face split into a grin while he throws his head back laughing, though Sunghoon presses his lips together in a straight line, clearly unimpressed. 
Yunjin jogs over to you, thanking you for the cone and complaining about how stingy Jungwoo’s being with the Oreo pieces these days but taking an appreciative lick anyway, letting her head fall back and a long hum of satisfaction buzz against her lips. “Just go over there and talk to him,” she says after a while. 
“Wow, YJ, thank you. I hadn’t thought of that.” 
She flips you off before walking away.
You don’t mean to catch his eye but he smiles when he sees you, waving when you wave. Heeseung waves too. If Sunghoon had been standing on his own you’d have no problem approaching him, but something about interrupting their conversation puts you off. Heeseung nods at you and calls out your name, inviting you to interrupt them. 
“It’s funny, we were just talking about you,” Heeseung says. You’re not sure how he wants you to respond to that, but Sunghoon looks at him with wide eyes, using his elbow to nudge his oversharing friend. “All good things, of course,” he adds on, raking a hand through his hair. 
“Who could have anything bad to say about you?” Sunghoon asks. 
Out of genuine concern, you ask if they’re okay, which only makes the two of them burst out laughing. Awkward laughter in the form of robotic ha ha has and forced applause. You’re not sure what to make of this, looking back and forth between them with a crease along your brow. High school was probably the last time you talked to Lee Heeseung, but besides the piercings and muscle definition he doesn’t seem to have changed much. 
“How have you been? How’s college?” Heeseung asks after wiping his left eye with the back of his hand. 
“I’ve been good. I saw you graduated last week, congrats!” 
He looks delighted at the mention of his own studies, missing the fact that you’re trying to avoid talking about yours. “Thank you!” he says, beaming. “Do you know what classes you’re taking this year?”
“No.” You shake your head. “You studied music, right?” 
An impossibly brighter grin spreads across his lips, eyes shining with genuine happiness as he nods. “Yeah, I majored in production actually. Best thing I ever did.”
For a while, Heeseung talks about his course though most of it goes over your head as jealousy burns in your stomach. The last three years have gone well enough for you to know that you’re more than just good at your major, so why, like him, can’t you enjoy it too? Right now, you want nothing more than for stupid Heeseung to shut up about his stupid career choices. 
Sunghoon interrupts the conversation, seeming to notice your mild irritation. “Hey, are you okay?” he asks, resting a hand on your shoulder.
He doesn’t seem convinced when you nod your head belatedly, clearing your throat. You do your best to focus on the burn of his hand on your skin and not your jealousy. 
Sunghoon looks over at Heeseung, giving him a look that the older boy takes as an invitation to leave, smiling at the both of you before waving goodbye. 
“What’s the matter?” His voice is much softer now that you’re alone, so comforting that you’re tempted to fall into his chest and tell him everything that’s ever upset you.
“What makes you think something’s the matter?”
“You were staring at Heeseung like you wanted to wipe the stupid smile off his face with a bullet.”  
“Actually, I think he has quite a nice smile,” you admit.
“Yeah,” Sunghoon agrees. “But it’s a little annoying, right? Like how everything just seems to go so well for him no matter what. Perfect guy with a perfect major, it’s a little hard not to be jealous of him when he talks like that.” 
“You don’t like what you study?” 
“It’s not my major I’m struggling with.” He lets out a dry laugh. “What about you?” 
A deep sigh rolls out of you, pulling your shoulders down. “I’m good at it so why stop, you know?” 
“Plenty of people stop things they’re good at.” The response comes quicker than you expect, in a defensive tone that makes you want to slice open his brain and take a look inside. “Sorry, I just mean if something isn’t making you happy, then it’s okay to stop. Right?” 
It doesn’t feel like he’s talking about you. “Right,” you affirm anyway. “It’s just that I only have a year left so the way I see it, I should just deal with it, graduate, and worry next summer instead. Uni sorta freaks me out is all,” you explain, shrugging in a way that you hope looks nonchalant. “I don’t like my course, and I don’t like talking about it, so let’s not talk about it.”
Sunghoon nods. “No talking about uni, got it,” he says, holding an imaginary pen and making a note of your words in the palm of his hand, with a tiny smile on his face that makes your stomach twist. “So, what do you like talking about?”
“Literally anything else.” 
“Look at us, so much in common.” There’s a hesitant look on his face, like he’s questioning his word choice but he smiles when you do, letting out a breathy laugh at the sound of a chuckle slipping out of you. 
“Hey, Sunghoon?” you ask after a beat, tilting your head and continuing when he hums. “Do you work here every day?” 
He shakes his head. “Just Monday through Thursday.”
“So, if I wanna see you, I could just come to the pool on those days?” 
“Yeah.” Even in the shade, it’s hard to miss the way his cheeks flush pink, and he scratches at the back of his neck while stifling a smile. “Exactly.” 
“And if it’s Friday or the weekend, and I wanna see you, I could just text you?” 
“Yeah, I think I’d like that.” That same smile curves on his lips, gentle, happy. 
You think you’d like that too. 
Sunghoon puts his number in your phone and you send a text so he has yours too.
The sun doesn’t set until late that night, and you spend the better part of the evening in the garden with your mum, catching the last moments of the sun’s rays from a blanket in the grass. The sound of her fingers against the keyboard is like a perfect mechanical OST for the summer romance you’re halfway through. Though knowing that the countdown in your email is set to strike zero in a matter of hours makes it difficult to concentrate on what’s going on in the made up beach town you’re reading about.
After a late dinner, you click the link to watch the countdown hit zero before refreshing the page. The stark white background of the login page stings your eyes in your dark room as you wait for the results page to load with a held breath. All three of your course titles are marked with MP for merit pass. A weight falls from your shoulders only to be replaced with another. 
The family group chat doesn’t seem to share your distress. Your dad hearts the message and sends a gif of Michael Scott clapping, your mum texts back that she’s so proud of her baby, and your older brother says KNEW U COULD DO IT! You throw your phone across the room, hiding your face in your pillow to muffle a scream. 
That night, you dream of graduation. Of crossing the stage and seeing the culmination of four long years on a flimsy piece of paper. The ceremony ends and behind closed eyes, you watch yourself sign your life away to a 9-to-5 in a field you hate, the same your brother had done. Drenched in a cold sweat, the nightmare jolts you awake. 
You spend all day in your room for fear of running into your mother and having to discuss your future.
The day after that, the familiar smell of coffee hits your nose as you walk by a cafe you used to frequent in high school, drowning yourself in hot chocolate in the winter and in sweet frozen lemonades in the summertime. If it wasn’t for your plans of seeing Chaewon you might’ve picked something up for nostalgia’s sake. 
Right when you think about her, she calls you. “Bring me a coffee,” Chaewon says. 
“What?” 
“Can you get me some coffee?” 
Looking over your shoulder, you fully expect to see Chaewon standing behind you or perched in one of the bushes across the street with a pair of binoculars. Her voice rings down the phone at you, at a volume you’re sure you would be able to hear if she was watching you from somewhere. “Hello?” 
“Yes, I’ll do it,” you say, ignoring the chill that runs down your spine and hanging up.
A bell rings above your head when you open the door, the cafe greeting you warmly like it always has. You admire its familiar green walls and the organic curves of its interior, from the sweeping archways to the round tables and chairs. Back then, you must have sat in each of them. 
You think you’re going crazy when you hear Sunghoon saying thanks, and you know you’re going crazy when you actually see him leaving the counter with his fingers wrapped around a vibrant orange iced drink. He doesn’t see you, focusing on the phone in his hand and the straw in his mouth, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat with each sip. Sunghoon turns his back to you, walking towards a table in the far corner, his head moving to the beat of whatever song he’s listening to. He sits in the seat facing away from you, and you stare for so long that the barista has to say excuse me to get your attention. 
After apologising, you order Chaewon’s latte, giving her name over to the barista when she asks and waiting off to the side while she makes it. The whole time, you watch Sunghoon, willing him to look over at you. It doesn’t work.
Not in the way you’d been expecting, at least. Your phone vibrates against your palm.
sh: hey yn! are you doing anything nice today?
You grin at the back of his head. 
yn: seeing chaewon later :) hbu
sh: oh cool i hope you guys have fun!
sh: working later.. closing shift :/ 
When it’s ready, you collect Chaewon’s drink and approach Sunghoon’s table. He’s staring at his phone screen, where you see your conversation over his shoulder — even though it’s been five minutes since he texted you — and have to bite back a smile.
“Hey, you.” The words come out like you intended, light, pleased. 
Sunghoon jumps in his seat anyway, slamming his phone face down on the table and looking up at you. “YN,” he breathes. “Hey.” He wipes his palms on his pants. “What are you doing here?” 
“Same as you, I guess,” you grin, raising the cup in your hand. “Can I sit?” 
“Of course.” A beat passes while you take your seat and Sunghoon’s eyes don’t leave you once. 
It’s been a while since you last had a vanilla latte but it’s just as sweet as you remember when you try it, the ice doing a good job at keeping you cool. You tilt your head at the boy in front of you, checking the date on your phone. “It’s Friday today.” 
“Yeah…” Sunghoon squints at you, nodding his head slowly. “Oh, it’s Friday,” he says, seeming to figure out what you were getting at despite the lack of context. “There’s a girl I normally coach on Mondays at the rink, Hyein, but she couldn’t make it this week so we moved her session to this afternoon. To be clear though, I don’t normally work on Fridays. At the rink or otherwise.”
You nod, taking another sip of Chaewon’s coffee and angling the cup so he can’t see her name written on the side of it. 
“So, if you wanted to see me, on a Friday, or over the weekend, you could still text me about that.” 
Smiling, you nod. “Good to know. Do you work Monday to Thursday at the rink as well?” you ask, curiosity getting the better of you.
Sunlight spills through the tiled windows, warming your skin through the glass. Over his shoulder, the bell by the door rings incessantly and under the sun’s rays, flecks of amber glow in his eyes that crinkle at the corners, a dimple peeking at you as he shakes his head.
“I have my own training at 6 on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays, and then I teach kids classes on Monday and Tuesday nights, and I see Hyein on Monday mornings.”
“6 a.m.?”
“No, our sessions start at 10.”
“I mean your training, you start at 6 in the morning?” 
“Oh.” He nods. “Yeah,” he says, shrugging. 
“Fuck, that’s so early, I could never.” 
“I mean, that was just my training block during school. 6 to 7:45, so I’d go to the rink, back home to shower, and go to school when I could.” A beat passes before he speaks again, using his straw to stir his drink. “But that was mainly during, like, off-season. If I had competitions coming up then I’d spend entire days at the rink, or dance class, in the gym, so I missed a lot of school.” 
You nod. “I remember.” 
Sunghoon’s eyes flash with something, as his brows knit together for barely a second. He smiles. “Anyway, I did try later sessions when I started college but I was so used to my early sessions that I’d still wake up at 5 a.m. even though my classes didn’t start until the afternoon.” 
There’s a sparkle in his eyes when you ask about Hyein, and excitement in his voice while he tells you all about her. About how much potential she has, even though she doesn’t seem to realise it; about how much better she’s gotten in the year since they met and how similar she is to him at her age.
After a very slow walk with Sunghoon, you reach Chaewon’s place. It doesn’t hit you that you’re empty-handed until she opens the door and frowns at you, asking where you’ve been and what happened to her coffee.
It starts to feel like you’re running out of friends to take to the pool when, a few days later, the entire girls chat is too busy to come along, and Lee Jeno from an engineering lecture you took two years ago sits in the chair next to you, lazily flipping through an old copy of Dazed Magazine. Even if only as a last resort, Jeno makes good company seeing as you like the funny Tiktoks he shows you and the way he sneaks vodka into your slushy behind your towel. 
For a while, you pretend not to care about Sunghoon’s absence in hopes he’ll spawn from the pool’s deep end. Surprisingly, he does not. And just like that, an ugly pattern is formed: you go to the pool, wait all day for Sunghoon, and eventually, stumble back home in a daze from alcohol or sunstroke. 
It takes four and a half more, uneventful, Sunghoonless visits to the pool to leave you trying not to tear your hair out at Chaewon’s dining table. 
Kazuha serves as a good distraction though, making you quiz her on the details of Kim Yeri’s driving licence so she can come out to the club with you guys. Between the two girls looking nothing alike and Kazuha thinking a March birthday makes her a Sagittarius, you’re not hopeful. 
When she goes to the toilet, you check your phone just to be sure Sunghoon hasn’t texted in the twelve minutes since you last checked. And like before, the only messages you find are from Yeonjun asking if you’re “tryna slide” later. You aren’t, and haven’t been for the last two weeks he’d been asking. Completely unrelated to a certain blond lifeguard, of course. You sigh, thinking of Sunghoon again and why he hasn’t texted yet.
There’s nothing stopping you from sending the first text (today) — except for the fact that you’d been texting back and forth until you accidentally aired him at the start of the week. Unless you’re trying to hook up, you never send the first message. And as much as you would like to hook up with Sunghoon, there’s something about him that’s too endearing to only experience in the quiet of a backseat at 3 a.m., or in your room when no one’s home.
Four shots and a lot of egging on seem to be all you need to make your way to Sunghoon’s DMs. You let Chaewon and Kazuha debate over what your opening message should be, and with shaky thumbs, you type out something simple. Much to your friend’s (and your own) disappointment, you eventually settle on hey handsome. 
sh: hiiiiiiiiiii
For a while, you watch as Sunghoon types and stops and types and stops before his message comes through. 
sh: pretty
You can’t help the giggle that comes out, clearing your throat when Chaewon raises a brow at you. The two of you hold eye contact for a beat before erupting into a fit of laughter. 
you: i haven’t seen you at the pool in a while and i was wondering if you’re ok..
sh: yn.. have you been at my workplac e waiitng for me to show up again ???
you: are you ok.
sh: i think it’s cute that you did that, my friends tol d me they saw you there every day this week
you: why are your friends reporting my whereabouts to you..
sh: i asked them to, also im good i just took some days off
sh: back monday am i gonna see u then?
you: or we could just see each other on one of your off days?
On the left side of the screen, you watch animated ellipses dance above the keyboard before halting, though no message comes to replace them and it doesn’t take you long to figure out that the message hasn’t come through because your phone is frozen. 
Right?
You let out a laugh at your stupidity while Chaewon looks at you like you’re insane, turning off your phone and letting it sit for a bit before turning it back on. Wasting no time, you go straight to Instagram and pull up the DM thread where the word seen sits underneath your last message, laughing at you. 
Perplexed by what seems like your first rejection ever, you’re not quite sure how to move on so you send a text to the group chat (mainly for Yunjin, the only one who isn’t present). Yunjin replies with a message suggesting Sunghoon’s phone died. In the chair opposite, Chaewon suggests maybe he died. Jaehyun brings you more shots to cope with your heartache and you clutch your stomach laughing when he squirts lime juice into his eye.
Because your friends don’t respect you, you end up in the middle seat when the Uber arrives; sandwiched between Chaewon and Kazuha, drinking as much vodka as you can stomach from the younger girl’s flask while she mutters March 5th, Taurus over and over again. 
All that hard work was done in vain, though; when you reach the club Kazuha insists on being the first to go up in line, and tears start streaming when the bouncer asks what part of Seoul she was born in. Yeri’s ID gets confiscated and the four of you pile into another Uber and head to your backup plan, which you only learn about when the car pulls up.
Living in another city for uni means you’ve never partied with Sunghoon’s friends before — beyond walking by each other in a club — and some combination of excitement and alcohol makes your stomach heat up as you think about seeing him again.
Nishimura Riki’s family home is a giant structure that takes up more room than what’s probably necessary. There’s a massive fountain in the middle of the driveway shooting a stream, out of the mouth of what you think is a lion, into its main bed of water. The grand front door has banners criss-crossed over it saying HAPPY BIRTHDAY KIM SUNOO! Before you reach it, the door swings open and Jay’s jaw is even sharper than you remember when you see him so close. He grins at you and your friends, whooping obnoxiously at the sight of Jaehyun, dapping him up before waving awkwardly at you, Chaewon and Kazuha. You watch him lean over to Jaehyun and ask if that chick’s okay, while not so subtly pointing at the youngest of you all. 
When you look at her, black streaks of mascara tear through her blush like a knife though she wears a bright smile as she eyes Jay like a predator. You nudge her in the ribs and make a mental note to find a bathroom to help her fix her makeup. She frowns when you take her hand and enter the house, leaving Chaewon with Jaehyun and Jay, the three of which chat easily with one another.
Upstairs in the main bathroom, you kneel on the floor between Kazuha’s legs, gently running a makeup wipe over her face while she sits on the lid of the toilet babbling about Jay. “He’s the one,” she says determinedly. “I mean, he was worried about me.. he barely knows me and he was asking if I was okay. Like, how did he know I’d been upset?” You wonder if Kazuha has seen her face in the last half hour. Or if she knows why you insisted on taking her makeup off. 
“Right,” you nod, knowing it’s easier to agree with a drunk Kazuha than face an argument.
“It’s a feeling. Like, sometimes you just have to look through the eyes of your soul, and everything will work out.”
It’s amazing to you that she can say the things she says without laughing. But there’s a finality in her tone that makes you hope she’s right. 
With Kazuha all cleaned up, you’re able to focus on how crammed the house actually is. There are people in every room of the house, sitting on the porch, in the backyard. People are everywhere and you’re not sure you’ll ever manage to reunite with your friends. In favour of getting to know Jay, Kazuha presses a kiss to your cheek and runs off in the opposite direction. You head for the kitchen knowing that Chaewon will most likely be in there somewhere, batting her lashes at a tall graduate in hopes to score a free smoke. 
People are grinding and hanging off one another in the hall and the living room, making out by the stairs, and in what looks like the only empty spot in the kitchen Sunghoon leans against the counter, taking generous gulps from something in a red cup. Judging by his smart trousers and pretty black cardigan, Sunghoon has also developed a personal style in the time since you’ve last been home. A dent forms in Sunghoon’s cheek when he sees you, a sweet crinkle in his eyes as he says hi! 
You can’t figure out whether you should hug him or not but he looks so sweet with his wide smile and flushed cheeks that your arms widen of their own accord. His embrace is gentle, wrapping you up in a mixture of toned arms, soft cotton, liquor, and something light, floral, you think. 
“Can I fix you something to drink?” Sunghoon asks quietly, you only just hear him before he lets you go. “I didn’t think you’d be here tonight,” he says, reaching over the counter to grab a cup for you. 
“Yeah, I didn’t either.” 
“I was your backup plan?” 
“Oh, come on.” You nudge his shoulder with your hand as he screws the cap back on a bottle of lemonade. “I wouldn’t use those words. If I’d known about the party you would’ve been the plan.” 
“I thought you wouldn’t use those words.”
“You’re using those words,” you say, grinning when he laughs. 
You both go back and forth on it for a while, as Sunghoon tries to find Malibu in the mess of bottles cluttering the countertop. A wide grin spreads across his face when he does and you watch him fill the empty space in your cup before handing it to you. 
The first sip is syrupy sweet on your tongue, forcing an appreciative hum out of you. “So good,” you say through a dreamy sigh, shaking your head before taking another gulp. 
From his nose, he lets out a breathy laugh, his lips quirking up at the corners as he watches you. “It’s good to know my bartending classes are paying off.” 
“Have you ever considered a recipe book?” you ask, putting the cup down next to your phone, looking up at Sunghoon who seems to seriously consider this for a while before nodding. 
Almost experimentally, he rests his hand on your hip. “I’m sorry about earlier,” he tells you, holding you a little closer when he sees that you’re okay with it. 
You tilt your head at him, pretending not to remember the way he’d left you on read. “What happened earlier?” 
“On.. iMessage,” he starts, trailing off at the end though he continues when you nod. “I’m not good at talking to pretty girls.”
Despite not fully believing him, there’s a sincerity in his voice that makes your stomach flutter. “Lucky for you, I’m very good at talking to pretty boys.” 
You can’t tell if he’s flustered or drunk, but his cheeks redden after you speak. 
“Pretty boys, me?” 
“Who else?” 
Sunghoon’s laugh comes out in ha ha ha’s, and if you couldn’t see the way his eyes crinkled up you might have thought he was faking it.
For a moment, his gaze flickers between your eyes and mouth, his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and he speaks. “I don’t want you thinking I’m not interested or anything.” His voice is low, almost too quiet for the cramped space where Me and Your Mama bounces off the walls and rowdy kids constantly bump into you. 
With his hand still burning through your dress, he nudges you, turning you both around to take your place. Your ass rests against the edge of the countertop and the drunk students bump into him instead. “I’m just.. still figuring out how to stop being so shy all the time,” he says, using his thumb to lift the fallen strap of your dress.
You’re having a tough time believing him. If this is what being so shy looks like for Sunghoon, you’re terrified to see him being confident. 
The heat of his lingering hand against your bare shoulder only leaves you drawing a blank. Part of you feels silly for saying that you’re very good at talking to pretty boys. You’re way out of your depth right now.
“But you,” he trails off, looking between your eyes and lips again. His hand starts to tremble against your waist. “You make it so hard.” 
“I do?” you ask dumbly, at a complete loss for words, trying not to read too much into his word choice. Why, anyone could say that word, hard, and not mean anything by it, it’s a word after all. An adjective, you think. 
Get out of your head. 
“Mm,” Sunghoon nods solemnly. “You have no idea.”
Three people nudge past you, each one shoving into him harder than the last; he looks thankful when you suggest going outside. His fingers brush against yours before he pulls them away, turning around to head for the garden immediately. 
The smell of smoke spikes through the fresh air, strong enough to make your head swim as Sunghoon closes the back door behind you. “Wow,” you whisper, looking around. It’s like stepping into a whole new party, with slow R&B pumping out into the summer heat. The garden spills out way beyond what your eyes can see, glowing with twinkling fairy lights and excited chatter.
“I know, right.” 
There’s a two step staircase in the centre that you follow Sunghoon up, mumbling an apology to the couple whose makeout sesh you had to break up to do so. Both of your footsteps crunch against the stone path that splits the grass, and — at Sunghoon’s request — you tell him everything that led you to this party tonight. Leaving out all of the overthinking that went into the text you eventually sent him of course.
“Wait, how old is Kazuha?” 
“21, she’s just waiting on her new ID coming in the mail.” 
“What happened to her old one?” 
“I think she’s like.. 13 or something in her old photo, and we didn’t get in last week either ‘cause the bouncer didn’t think it was her,” you pause. “Or she just looked too young in the photo. I’m not sure.”
You can hear Sunghoon humming along to the SZA song that’s playing, tilting his head at your words. His brows knit together for a beat, and he has to grab you by the forearm to keep you from tripping over your own feet. Sunghoon’s eyes meet yours, as he maintains his grip on you. “Thanks,” you say through a breath, trying to focus on anything other than his touch. 
“Let’s sit, yeah?” 
Sunghoon rests his arm around your shoulders when you nod, keeping you upright as you walk slowly towards the back of the garden. “I don’t know where you guys go out, but one time, we put Riki in a dress and gave him Hwang Yeji’s ID.”
“And then stayed home?” The mental image makes you cackle, getting funnier with each second you dwell on it, but your breath catches in your throat when you look up at him, shaking his head as best as he can while laughing. The way his head falls back, showing off the column of his neck and angle of his jaw forces you to screw your eyes shut to stop the thoughts of kissing him there. 
“And then took him to the club with us and got him to buy our first round.”
With each thing he shares about that night, it grows more and more unbelievable, leaving your jaw on the floor as he leads you around a timber shed (that houses a hot tub) to a big swingy chair thing. “I’ll find the photos in a sec,” he smiles. “Let me hold your cup while you sit.” 
The spot provides about as much privacy as you figure a packed house party could afford. Not that you need privacy to be endeared by Sunghoon or anything. You take him up on his offer, sitting down and watching as he ignores the phone ringing in his pocket, handing you back your drink. Even though you’re not thrilled about the interruption, you tell him he should at least check who it is. 
“Jungwon?” He flinches, yanking the phone away from his ear. Jungwon’s voice is so loud you can hear him despite the distance. “Yeah I got it, I’m at the swing outside.” The call ends there and Sunghoon still doesn’t sit down and neither of you speaks. 
Blinking fairy lights are strung neatly around the swing’s frame. Only a few of the bulbs are working, but together they produce enough light for you to see the sun-bleached blue of the cushion you’re sitting on, and the way Sunghoon’s looking straight at you. You smile. He doesn’t budge. Instead, he worries his bottom lip with his teeth for a while, completely spaced out, until a broad-shouldered child arrives. 
Sunghoon daps him up and your brows raise when he pulls a short, flat bottle of vodka from his back pocket to give to Jungwon. “How much do I owe you?” he asks, taking the bottle. 
“For the drink or for the lifelong tab you and Riki have been racking up?” 
Chuckling, Jungwon shakes his head and points his thumb at Sunghoon. “Don’t you just love that sense of humour?”
The two boys share a look, and Jungwon nods in understanding. He affectionately pats Sunghoon’s bicep, face lighting up in awe. “Wow!” he gasps, turning to glance at you. “Have you felt the muscles on this guy? I wanna be just like him when I grow up.” With wide eyes, he nudges Sunghoon in your direction. 
Despite his apparent indifference towards Jungwon’s attempts at hyping him up, Sunghoon comes closer to you, letting you feel his arm anyway. He flexes his bicep — all firm, sculpted muscle through his soft cardigan — under your fingers in a way that spreads fire in your stomach. Unintentionally, you catch his gaze and your breath gets stuck in your throat. A quiet laugh slips from his lips as he puts his arm down. 
It’s hard not to think about what Jungwon had said about growing up, and even harder not to study him to figure out his age. His outfit is similar to Sunghoon’s; loose pants and a knitted cardigan which does nothing to help you make an estimate. Not being able to buy his own booze tells you that he’s not your age, his wide eyes and round cheeks only make him seem like a child, but his height and broad shoulders throw you off.
“How old are you?” you ask, giving in to your curiosity. 
“21,” he says, too quickly. “.. in two years.” 
He lingers for a bit to hype Sunghoon up some more; not so subtly bringing up his great qualities, like his considerate nature and unwavering dedication. Though Sunghoon’s “never ending” patience wears out and he asks him to leave. With a nod, Jungwon waves goodbye before sprinting back towards the house. Sunghoon laughs watching his friend and sinks into the seat next to you, his thigh pressing against yours for a beat before he closes his legs and rests his arms over the back of the chair.
“Wow,” you grin, leaning into his side. “Figure skating legend Park Sunghoon buys alcohol for kids.” 
He shrugs. “I’m not a legend.” 
You raise a brow, a smirk playing at your lips. “That’s the part you’re disputing?”
“Well, the other part is true,” he says, chuckling though unable to hide the flash of discomfort in his eyes. “If you consider a 19-year-old a kid.” 
“You’re way too humble.”
“Anyone could be good with the right coach, and I have, like, the most supportive parents ever so they help me a lot.”  
“Well, yeah, probably, but even then, your parents aren’t the ones skating, you are,” you point out. 
Sunghoon deflates, sighing heavily. “Can we talk about something else?” He takes a sip from his cup in a silent plea for you to drop it. When his eyes meet yours, his lips press into a flat smile and the soft lighting brings out the dimple in his cheek. 
You nod, using your hand to push his hair away from his forehead. The flat smile spreads across his face as you play with his light hair, that’s somehow silky smooth under your fingers despite the bleach. It’s a little messy when you move your hand, sitting over his thick brows in a way that, when paired with his boyish grin, makes him look younger. 
A dull thump startles both of you as a couple jog away from the shed with linked hands and no regard for you or Sunghoon. Neither of you bother trying to hide your amusement when you meet each other’s eyes, laughing hard enough to make the swing sway. 
“I’m sorry,” you say after calming down — maybe too late. 
He shakes his head. “You don’t have to be.”
The smile on his face is soft, sincere, but does nothing for the guilt you feel over stressing him out — your lips tug into a frown.
“Hey,” Sunghoon whispers and his forehead is warm against yours when he nudges you, grinning at the way you giggle when he pulls away. “I’m not upset or anything.” he pauses. “I don’t think I’m upset or anything, I’m just tired, you know. I spend a lot of time talking about skating during the day and there’s, like, a million and one other things I’d rather talk about right now.”
His honesty assuages your guilt and piques your curiosity. “Yeah?” you ask, arching a brow. Sunghoon nods. “Other things like..” 
He hesitates, caught off by the suggestiveness in your tone, by the way your hand grazes his knee before resting low on his thigh. A gulp echoes in his throat. “Uh, like..” His voice trails off. 
There’s a flutter in your chest as a smile tugs at your lips. “Why don’t we start with those pictures of Riki at the club?” 
“Riki at the club,” he repeats, nodding his head. “I can do that.” 
Sunghoon’s arm falls around your shoulders when you nestle into him, close enough now that his scent hits you effortlessly. A tiny square in his camera roll expands under his thumb, showing you Riki in a tight black halter dress with his hair grown out and styled in neat curls. There’s a boxy grin spread across his lips while he holds Yeji’s ID next to his face. In the next picture, he crouches between Shin Ryujin and Lee Chaeryeong while the three of them make kissy faces for the camera. “And then he had two shots of Fireball and passed out in a booth so we had to carry him home.” 
A laugh bubbles in your throat at the sight of Riki hunched over in a booth with his head on the table, and tears start to spill when you watch the video of Heeseung stumbling down the street, accidentally letting Riki slip off his back and onto the concrete. 
Out of nowhere, Sunghoon’s eyes practically bulge out of his head; an expression you’ve only seen on Kazuha whenever she suspects she left her flat iron on at home. Dread settles in your stomach as you brace yourself for what he might say next. “Just give me a minute,” he says, his words holding an urgency that only fuels your nerves. “I need to text someone.” 
Sunghoon thinking about talking to someone else while you’re trying to get to know him isn’t your favourite thing. In fact, it feels worse than what you imagine might happen if Kazuha actually does leave her flat iron on one day — because it shuts off automatically after 15 minutes.
You try hiding your disappointment but you can feel your lips drooping at the corners as he angles his phone away from you, deep in thought about this message he so urgently has to send. Whatever, you think. Couldn’t care less.
At long last, he finishes typing and pulls air through his teeth before putting his phone back in his pocket, drumming his nails against the seat until your phone goes off in your lap. In a fit of Kazuha-inspired absurdity, you want Sunghoon to feel bad about his lack of manners, so you ignore the notification despite your burning curiosity.
“Aren’t you gonna get that?” he asks, his gaze fixed on you expectantly. 
You shake your head. “It can wait.” 
A frown creases Sunghoon’s brow and you hate it; checking your phone immediately to find two texts from the boy sitting next to you.
sh: hey yn! sorry i took so long
sh: if it’s not too late do u wNt to go on a date with me next saturday?
After six days of exchanging Spotify links with Sunghoon over text, Saturday rolls around, and the doorbell chimes earlier than you’d been expecting it to. You call out that you’ll get the door, grab your bag and bolt down the stairs. With a hand on the door handle, you catch your breath, an act that seems pointless when you see Sunghoon through the glass. The door creaks open and his neck snaps in your direction, jaw falling to the floor. 
He waves. 
Your greeting is followed only by silence, your Hey, Sunghoon, dissipating into the sticky summer heat as he chews on his cheek, letting his eyes scan your body over and over. If he didn’t look so nervous you might have offered to pose for a picture. “How are you?” you ask, locking the door behind you and double-checking that you did lock it before tossing your keys into your purse. 
“You’re so pretty,” he sighs, pushing his hand through his hair. “And I love your dress,” he adds. “Very pretty.”
“Yeah?”
Sunghoon nods and suddenly, your group FaceTime call with Chaewon, Minjeong, and Yunjin feels like two hours well spent. 
While you tried on every summer outfit in your wardrobe for them to judge, Minjeong gave enthusiastic reactions to Sunghoon’s tagged photos, or, rather, to Mark in Sunghoon’s tagged photos but even she was struck by the outfit you settled on. The pretty floral dress that sits at the middle of your thighs that Sunghoon can’t seem to look away from. Hopefully, you’ll remember to thank them appropriately. 
You follow him to his car where he opens the passenger door for you. Struck by the fact that this is the first time anyone’s done that for you, and the sound of his hand rattling against the metal, you sit down, beaming up at him as he closes the door. Sunghoon’s car is neat, and tidy, and smells pleasantly of the new car scent Little Tree that hangs, completely still, from his rearview mirror. Through the clean windscreen, you watch him walk around the front of the car with pursed lips. 
“You like ice cream, right?” he asks when he sits down, looking over at you nervously. 
“Who doesn’t like ice cream?” 
Sunghoon takes you to a little old diner themed ice cream spot with checkerboard floors and a handful of plush vinyl booths. Some of the walls have cursive LED signs that you can’t quite make out and a great big jukebox in the back corner plays What Makes You Beautiful. 
It doesn’t surprise you that Sunghoon is quiet when it’s just you guys, but you can tell that he’s trying his best. He listens attentively to everything you have to say, nodding his head and asking thoughtful questions at all the right times; he makes you laugh more than you ever have. He practically lights up when you bring up his friends. 
“Your friends are so cute,” you say with a smile, thinking of the change Riki had given Yunjin to buy those slushys the other day. 
“If you knew my friends you wouldn’t think that,” Sunghoon says, a fond smile that goes against his words spreading on his face at the mention of them. “Except Jake,” he corrects. “Jake is so cute, yes.” 
“I don’t think I know which one he is,” you admit. “I know Heeseung, I know Jay, Jungwon, and Riki..” you trail off, looking up at him and the smudge of ice cream on his lower lip.
“Jake is the cute one,” he frowns. “You’ll know him when I show you.” Sunghoon takes his phone from his pocket, scrolling for a while. “I’m sorry, I can’t find a normal photo of all seven of us.” 
“Just show me whatever,” you say, looking up at him and the smudge of ice cream on his bottom lip.
Without thinking, you reach over the table, using your thumb to wipe it away. Sunghoon’s cheeks immediately flush with pink and he gulps watching you suck the ice cream from the pad of your finger.
“Thanks,” he mumbles, shy, while turning his phone towards you to show the most absurdly staged photograph you think you’ve ever seen. “So, uh, Jake is.. he’s the one holding Heeseung up by his hair, and Sunoo’s posing in front of Jay.” Sunghoon hands you his phone when he’s done talking.
You use the opportunity to examine the picture. 
Jake (so cute) really does hold Heeseung up by his hair, and Sunoo (also so cute) shows the camera his pretty side profile and a thumbs up. Some other things stick out to you in the photo, a laugh making its way out of you as you notice that Jungwon isn’t there but Jay holds up a printed picture of him in his right hand. Riki sits between Jay and Jake, wearing a concerned expression about something going on off-camera. Sunghoon is in the back, holding what looks like a yoga pose on the back of the couch they’re sitting on. 
Happily, you let Sunghoon tell you more about his friends until the sun starts to set and the backs of your thighs stick to the vinyl seat. Not quite ready to say goodbye, you ask Sunghoon if you can go on a walk together. He seems into the idea, nodding his head and smiling down at you. 
Walking aimlessly, the two of you maintain a neutral silence (not uncomfortable, not particularly comfortable either, just quiet), and pretend not to notice the way the backs of your hands touch, each bump longer than the last though amounting to nothing. 
It’s not until comforted by the smell of chemically treated water that you realise how close to the pool you are. You follow Sunghoon around a corner and see the locked gates, wondering if he’d brought you this way on purpose or just out of habit. 
“Wish it was open,” you say off-handedly, not really meaning anything by it. Like telling the person you sit beside on the first day of class that you’re so tired even though you had the best night of sleep in your life. 
Sunghoon isn’t beside you when you look over at him, he’s a few paces behind you, standing by the gates. A mischievous smile spreads on his lips as he holds his keys in his hand, dangling them. “It could be.” 
“Are we allowed to do this?” you ask nervously, watching Sunghoon twist his key in the lock. 
“Allowed to?” he repeats, tilting his head as though the concept is foreign to him. “No, I don’t think so.” A satisfying click sounds as the lock comes undone and Sunghoon pushes the gate open with a huge grin on his face as he gestures for you to go inside first. “After you.” 
He follows you in, shutting the gate behind him and holding out a hand for you to take; you lock your fingers with his and decide that you never want to let go. Not even after a thin layer of sweat forms between your palms. 
The space seems so large when it’s empty like this, with the parasols closed and the lack of screaming children. Streetlights cover the area in a dim orange haze, turning it into a fuzzy dreamscape. The pool itself seems so small when you see it covered up, nothing like the ocean-wide abyss you remember it being when you were young, racing with Chaewon, or pretending like you were only playing around when you tried to drown Jaehyun. 
“Do you wanna get in?” Sunghoon asks, his soft voice interrupting your thoughts. 
You don’t hesitate to nod. 
One night a week, the pool stays open until after dark, but you’ve never been. So when the mechanised pool cover whirs open after Sunghoon flips the switch, you’re shocked by the lights that illuminate the still water. It makes sense that the pool would have some form of lighting for safety, but you hadn’t expected the yellowing fixtures set in the tiled walls to shine so beautifully.
“Come on,” he says, taking you by the hand again, approaching the water. 
A part of you wants to protest when he lets go, but the words catch in your throat as he pulls his shirt over his head. Having spent the better part of most summers poolside, the sight of shirtless Sunghoon isn’t a new one though you find yourself breathless all the same. It’s different tonight but he doesn’t seem to notice. 
Worried you’ll break the spell, you can’t bring yourself to speak. Worried you’ll open your mouth and the moment might slip out from under you. These worries, however, are no match for Sunghoon’s slim waist which leaves your mouth forming an O at the sight. 
“Wow,” you whisper, awestruck. 
Sunghoon laughs, nervously, running a hand through his hair and using the other to hold his shirt over his stomach. “Don’t do that,” he says under his breath. He drops the shirt. The rest of his clothes follow, quickly leaving him in only his tight-fitting black boxer briefs that you struggle to look away from. 
An odd feeling starts to creep in, causing a fire in your belly — obviously from the sweet cider you had earlier, nothing at all to do with Sunghoon. Or his sculpted torso. Or his face, with his soft smile, and sparkling eyes. No one’s ever looked at you like this before.
“What are you thinking about?” 
Those shoulders. Those lips. Kissing those lips. You gulp. “Nothing.” 
Even though he doesn’t look like he believes you, he doesn’t press you on it. Instead, he smiles. Sunghoon turns his back to you, walking towards the pool’s edge to dip a pointed toe into the water. You like the way he hums, nodding his head as if it’s just to his liking. 
“Feels good?”
“Perfect,” he grins, stepping into the pool. 
A splash makes the water ripple around him — you’ve never noticed it’s so clear, you can see everything. From the mosaic-like blue tiles on the pool floor and walls to the way Sunghoon’s hair moves around his head. It’s a dazzling blue, shifting brilliantly through the whole spectrum under light from the moon, the pool, and the lampposts. 
Considering the way you’re sweating in the sticky heat, the water even looks refreshing, so you’re not sure why you don’t move to pull your dress off; or why you can’t shake your nerves. Sunghoon’s seen you in skin-tight dresses, and skimpy bikinis, so you’re not sure why the thought of him seeing you in your underwear is spooking you so much. It could be your lack of a bra. But even then, Sunghoon isn’t going to be the first person to see your bare breasts.
Interrupting your thoughts, he bobs to the surface with closed eyes and straight lips; his dimple shows. Pushing hair from his forehead, he asks if you’re going to join him though he seems to sense your apprehension, shaking his head. “You don’t have to take anything off,” he tells you gently. “Except maybe your shoes and socks.” 
You nod, stepping out of your shoes and pulling your socks off almost robotically. 
“It’s okay,” he smiles, comforting, reassuring, as he swims up to the edge of the pool and extends his wet hand to you. “I got you.”
You tell yourself to get out of your head, looking into Sunghoon’s sparkling eyes and feeling at ease from the way he looks up at you like you’re God’s gift. When you reach for the bottom of your dress, he gulps, his arm falling limply against the coping. You turn away from him to pull the light fabric over your head, letting it fall in a heap next to your shoes, and Sunghoon’s looking in the other direction when you turn back around. Even with the ‘privacy’ he’s afforded you by looking away, you can’t help but use your arms to cover your chest as you make your way over to the pool, sitting down on the edge and slipping into the water. 
It is refreshing. The water is the perfect temperature as it envelops you, soothes you.
Just more than an arm’s length away, Sunghoon’s form is broad. His shoulders are so wide and his back so toned that your head starts to swim. His skin, sunkissed, glowing, is dotted with pretty moles that you’ve never noticed before but can’t look away from — suddenly feeling as though you could point to each one with your eyes closed. 
With an odd half step, you reach him, letting your arms fall around his waist and pressing your chest to his back. You don’t know why you do that.
He draws a sharp breath. “Hi,” he whispers after a beat. 
“Hi.” 
A quiet falls between you until Sunghoon mumbles, over there, while pointing towards the deep end of the pool. You swim poorly behind him and he only stops when you call out his name. Sunghoon breaks out into laughter when he sees you. For him, who’s well into the deep end, the, now still, water might tease his chin if disrupted. For you, almost 2 metres behind, the water tickles your nose even when you stand on your tiptoes.
“Whoa,” he whispers. 
You tilt your head back to speak. “What?” 
“You’re just..” He pauses to gulp. “So short.”  
Offended, you scoff. “I’m the tallest out of all my friends,” you say defensively. And untruthfully — hoping he’s never seen you standing next to Yunjin.
“Are you friends with the Lakers?”
You drift away from him, laughing as well, until the water just about reaches your armpits. He follows you. As more of his body breaches the surface, water slips from his chest, droplets and streaks glowing under the white light of the moon, completely breathtaking.
“I was so nervous about today,” he says, pushing some water towards you, his lighthearted tone gone. 
“Oh?” You pause, continuing when he nods, and push water back in his direction. “How do you feel now?” 
Sunghoon’s pouty lips jerk up the corners, playful, boyish. A soft laugh slips from the space between his teeth. “I’m absolutely terrified.” His honesty draws you to him, and has you actually drifting closer in the water.
“What’s scaring you?” 
His breath seems to catch in his throat. He tilts his head while eyeing you. “Are you asking because you really don’t know?” If you’d still been splashing each other you doubt you’d have heard him talking over the water.
“Does it matter?”
Sunghoon seems to consider this for a moment, to consider you. Despite sitting just high enough to cover your breasts, the water doesn’t do very much to conceal them and his eyes get stuck on your chest for more than a little while. He clears his throat, looking back up at your face. He doesn’t answer. Instead, he raises his hands and smacks the surface of the water between you with open palms. A big splash hits you in the face. 
It’s on, you think, doing the same thing to him with all the force you can muster and laugh at the yelp he lets out. Something of a splash fight ensues, both of you doing everything you can to create a bigger mess of water to attack the other with. 
The rain starts so subtly that you don’t even notice it at first. You’re both too busy laughing and trying to splash the other harder to think about anything else. Only when you stop to catch your breath, to rest your aching arms, do you catch the faint ripples skating across the pool’s surface. Sunghoon doesn’t relent, taking the opportunity to gain the upper hand. And the rain gets heavy fast.
“Sunghoon, it’s raining, stop!” you call out, turning your face away from him. His raucous laughter makes your stomach flutter as you grab his wrist. “Come on, we’re gonna get wet, we have to go!” 
When you look back over at him, his smile is so wide, so sweet that you almost feel faint. Sunghoon doesn’t stop laughing, the sound is so contagious you can’t help but join in. His arms fall around your waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world to do while he cackles in front of you, you let your hands rest on his firm triceps. 
Large droplets start hitting your lashes, clinging to them, obscuring your vision, so you bring a hand up to act like an awning above your eyes. He calls you so cute under his breath though his laughter doesn’t seem like it’s going to stop anytime soon. 
“Hoon, come on. What’s so funny?”
The rain is cold against your shoulders but the boy in front of you doesn’t seem to share your concerns about the sudden downpour. You lock eyes with him, and his laughter seems to get caught in his throat. He’s still smiling but seems nervous, as though he’s only now become aware that he’s holding you so close that your naked chest is pressed against his. 
Sunghoon clears his throat. His smile returns, as a breathy laugh makes its way from his nose. He lets his face come down towards yours, slow, cautious, and too desperate to wait, you meet his lips halfway; they’re every bit as soft as you’d imagined. 
As if relieved, Sunghoon’s shoulders sag and his body seems to melt into your own. Desperation, hunger hits you from all angles, lighting up your insides and leaving your skin burning under his touch. Unthinkingly, you link your arms around his neck to pull him impossibly close, almost whimpering when his tongue grazes yours.
Sunghoon tastes light and sugary, like the perfect combination of artificial strawberry and sweet coffee as his tongue moves against yours. From your mouth into his slips a dreamy sigh, while he holds onto you gently, like you’re the most delicate thing in the world; like he’s the most delicate thing. Why haven’t you been kissed like this before? So slowly, so softly, as if he means it. As if he’s kissing you for no reason other than simply wanting to kiss you. 
Only when he pulls away to catch his breath do you regain your senses and notice how much heavier the rain has become. But your brain short circuits at the sight of him. His breathing is ragged, his chest rises and falls against yours. Water darkened hair clings to his forehead, letting beads slip from its ends to his cheekbone before slipping down the column of his neck.
Shelter is the only word you manage to say and all you can do is hope that he’s able to work out the rest. Like something from the purest depths of your imagination, Sunghoon’s kiss-bitten lips stretch into a wide smile. A giggle, the softest thing you’ve ever come across, slips from his mouth while his fingers squeeze at your hips. 
“YN,” he says, breathless. “We’re in the pool.”
Dripping water onto the concrete under your feet, you and Sunghoon walk at snail’s pace from his car to your front door, with your linked hands swinging between your bodies. 
The porch light diffuses dramatically over Sunghoon’s features, and somehow, even under the stark lighting, he’s still beautiful. His wet hair drips water onto his shoulders, darkening his shirt in abstract splashes around the neckline. A grin splits across his lips when he locks eyes with you, his face scrunching up and his shoulders racking up and down as he laughs to himself. 
It’s impossible not to join in. “What’s so funny?” 
He only shrugs in response, struggling to keep a straight face. “I’m just.. happy,” he says eventually, a tinge of uncertainty hanging from his words. 
With shaking hands, Sunghoon grabs you by the waist and holds you close, leaning down to kiss you. As your lips move with his, the only thing you can think about is how badly you want to feel this moment forever. To feel the tremble in sweet Sunghoon’s hands as he holds onto you gently, to feel his soft hair under your fingertips, and his hard chest pressed against your body. To feel his lips curving into a smile, his forehead resting on yours as his breath fans your lips. “Are you happy too?” he asks. 
You think you’ll die if you ever forget the way it feels to like Park Sunghoon.
“Yes. Very.” 
Through the peephole in your front door, you watch as Sunghoon stands outside, bringing a hand to his cheek, fingers grazing the spot where you’re certain your lip gloss lingers. You suppress a giggle with your hand and run up the stairs to your room where you bury your face in your pillow to muffle a squeal. You can’t remember the last time you felt so giddy over something that was happening in your own life rather than something sweet you’d read in a book or heard about from a friend.
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With Chaewon’s hand in yours, and butterflies in your stomach, you make your way to the community pool for the first time in about a week. Like always, you find Sunghoon’s friends wreaking havoc in the water until.. something happens. By the time it occurs, you’ve been laying poolside for about an hour, trying to convince your best friend that you liking a guy isn’t going to do anything to your friendship. 
“You’re not supposed to like that guy,” Chaewon whines like a child, playing with the frayed hem of her shorts. “You’re only supposed to like me!” A sigh passes from her lips as she uses her arm to shield her eyes from the sun. “And Yunjin!” she adds after too long. 
“What about the rest of our friends?” 
“And Kazuha, and Minjeong, and Jaehyun, an—” 
“Jaehyun’s a guy.” 
She seems a little thrown off by your interruption, pursing her lips before speaking. “Well, yeah, but.. he’s one of our guys. A Chaewon-approved guy.” 
Suddenly, the noise level reduces by at least half and you can’t help but feel alarmed, whipping your head in the direction of the pool. A quick scan tells you that nothing bad has happened, allowing you to release a breath you didn’t know you were holding. In the corner of your eye, you see Sunghoon’s friends huddled together and quickly realise that the space has only gotten so quiet because they’re chatting at a normal volume. Huh, you think, it almost sounds like the speakers are quite good. Heeseung and Jay get out of the water, sitting up on the pool’s edge while the other four boys all stand in place, all six of them fix their eyes on something in front of them but you don’t care enough to investigate further. 
You look back at Chaewon as a pout settles on your lips. “Why can’t Chaewon approve of my guy?”
“When you say that Sunghoon is your guy, do you mean it in the same way that Yeonjun is your guy?” she asks, her tone scathing but her face concerned. “Or, the way that Asahi is your guy, or, even Yoshi?” 
“No. This is different. Sunghoon is different.” 
You know how trite and naive you must sound, but he is different. You’d never dated a guy who’d pick you up right at your front door; Yeonjun and Yoshi typically sent DMs to let you know they’d parked out front, and Asahi did nothing but honk the car horn because he found it funny. Though to call what you were doing with those guys ‘dating’ would be a huge overstatement. There was Renjun from first year who was nice enough but never wanted to hang out, and Donghyuck who made you laugh but never complimented you. 
Chaewon crinkles her nose, reaching out to hold your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I really hope you’re right.”
And now there’s Sunghoon. Sunghoon who tells you that he can’t wait to see you again; who always tells you how pretty you look; who blushes when you hold his hand, who touches his cheek when you kiss it. You can’t imagine him doing anything bad to anyone. Sunghoon is different, and you hope you can be different this time too. In all the time you spend thinking, your guy shows up with a shy smile on his face with both of his hands behind his back. 
It’s your first time seeing him in person since your date and the sun glows against his skin, his wet hair tickling his thick brows as he stands at the foot of your chairs, watching Chaewon nervously. “Hi, Chaewon,” he says after a while.
“Hello!” She grins, seeming so bright and happy that you find it hard to reconcile this Chaewon with the one who’d been clutching her chest and sliding down the walls over the fact you have a crush on the boy she’s now being so pleasant to. 
“I got this,” Sunghoon says, bringing his hand from behind his back to reveal a strawberry-flavoured slushy. “For you.” He adds on, holding the drink out to your friend. While Chaewon gushes about how much she likes the mix of berries that make up her favourite flavour, Sunghoon hums and nods along while making his way to the other side of your chair. He wears a wider, more confident smile on his face while he stands over you. 
“Hi, gorgeous,” he says quietly, bringing his other hand out to give you the blue raspberry slushy he’s been holding. With his foot, Sunghoon drags a spare lounger from behind him next to yours before moving out of the way and using his hands to push it some more, making the armrest touch yours. “Hey,” he smiles, taking a seat. 
You take a grateful sip of your drink, surprised at how much better it tastes coming from him. “Thank you, Hoon.” You can’t stop yourself from leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek, liking the way your stomach flutters when his hand flies up to touch the spot you’d kissed.
“I like when you do that.” 
“This?” you ask, kissing him again. Through squinted eyes, you notice a dusting of pink over his cheeks and take such a big sip of your slushy that every single part of your body goes numb and your head starts to hurt. Sunghoon only laughs, watching you. It’s quiet between you for a bit until you come to. “I’m not complaining, really, but don’t you have.. lives to guard?” 
“I’m on break,” he says. “Do you want me to go?” His brows raise dramatically as the corners of his lips sink to the floor, a glint of something playful in his sparkling eyes. 
You shake your head, face alighting with a grin when you remember something. “So can I see the skating videos you promised you’d show me?” 
All playfulness is gone. “Did I.. promise?” 
“Yes!” You don’t like the way he arches his brow at you. “Two nights ago.. before you fell asleep on the phone.” 
He scoffs at you, playfully. “If I remember correctly, you fell asleep on the phone,” Sunghoon says, tone accusatory. “And you snore.” Sunghoon lets his cheek lie flat against the chair, grinning. He’s beautiful. And correct.
“Skating videos,” you repeat. Sunghoon rolls his eyes at you, grinning brilliantly when you laugh. “I’m serious,” you frown. 
“You’re cute,” he says quietly, like it’s a correction. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.” Sunghoon pauses but takes your nod as a sign to continue. “I have a thing, next Tuesday, and I was wondering if you’d want to come and see me skate in person?” His voice tips up at the end of the question.
Excitement bubbles up inside you, causing you to sit up straight in your seat, turning your body to face him. “You want me to come?” 
He nods eagerly. 
“I’ll be there.” 
The tips of Sunghoon’s ears redden as he smiles at you, his eyes scanning your face. You can’t resist kissing him, and he doesn’t try to stop you, meeting your lips halfway. It’s sweet as sugar and goes on until his friends start to cheer loudly and Sunghoon pulls away, shy. But he looks like he wants to kiss you again. You grab him by the cord of the whistle around his neck and pull him back towards you. Relief floods you when your lips reunite.
“I’m gonna text you later with the details, time and shit,” he mumbles against your lips before getting up to go. 
As he retreats, he looks over his shoulder a few times, waving at you and smiling widely while he does. Until he bumps into a small child who practically topples over; Sunghoon manages to catch them in the nick of time and his neck flushes pink. 
It doesn’t make sense to you how he could be so cute. 
Chaewon watches you as she sips her slushy with an appreciative smile, letting out a long ahh of refreshment before putting the cup down. “Chaewon approved.” 
It seems like your mother’s been back from work for a while when you get home. A stretchy white headband holds her hair out of her face while she stands over a pot on the stove, looking comfy in some sweatpants.
Happy to see you, she pulls you into a hug, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Hi, honey,” she grins. 
She turns down your offer to help and insists on you setting the table instead, which you do happily, taking a seat when you’re done. Through her phone, she plays the music she listened to while you were growing up and sitting there, watching your mum cook while dripping chlorinated water from your hair to the kitchen floor, makes you feel a bit like a child. Like it’s 2008 and you’ve come home from a day at the pool with Chaewon, who would sit across from you at the dinner table, all blunt fringe and missing teeth, talking about this brand new thing called cheesecake, while your mother made dinner for the three of you with a towel wrapped on her head, drying her wet hair. 
As your mum fills your plate, she tells you about her day at work. Her boss was unreasonable, like always, and her office bestie took off on maternity leave. Again. She asks you about your day and pretends like she doesn’t notice the way you smile when you talk about the pool. 
You don’t wait to tell her about Sunghoon. 
“Is that who you went out with last week?” 
You cough around a grain of rice; you don’t remember mentioning him. “How do you know?” 
A smile takes over her face. “Because I watched him stand around the driveway for five minutes before he rang the bell.” You can’t help the way you laugh, it sounds like him to a tee. “What’s he like?” 
You tilt your head for a minute, thinking. “I still feel like we’re getting to know each other, you know?” Understanding, she nods her head. So, naturally, you talk for the better part of 10 minutes about Sunghoon until your food gets cold and your cheeks hurt from smiling. 
In preparation for Sunghoon’s skating showcase, you read up on the sport and audience etiquette, and stay up late the night before making a pretty banner for him. Sleepiness plagues you when you wake up that afternoon but at least you’re happy with the way the sign came out. 
While doing your makeup, you start to second guess your outfit choice. It was nice when you picked it last week, and it was nice when you put it on an hour ago and then back on twenty minutes ago. So, out of options, you stand in front of the mirror for the umpteenth time, sending Sunghoon a picture of your flowy off-white dress and asking if it’s okay. 
Sunghoon, dramatic as ever, responds with a selfie, all pretty smile and red hearts drawn over his eyes. You almost want to drop dead at the sight of him. And then another message comes through, no words, just emojis. At least 40 silly little yellow faces fill the text box. Some are crying, some have heart eyes, some have starry eyes, and some are drooling. There seems to be no apparent order, and you see sprinkles of white hearts in between them. 
sh: you look so beautiful you’re so beautiful baby
Baby, he’d said. Simple, pixelated, enough to make your heart flip in your chest. 
sh: can i come over 
sh: just to loo k at you or smth 
you: please 
You want to kiss him. 
sh: ok omw .. lying i dont have time :((( 
sh: also i fucked up my hair last night don’t laugh when you see me. 
you: no promises .. 
There’s a short queue at the reception desk when you arrive at the rink. The lobby is full of excited parents and bored teens, all eager with anticipation for the start (and end) of the summer showcase. Sunghoon had been relatively vague about the event until you called him last night, with a list of questions about it. With one question about it. The two of you chatted and laughed for hours until you got an answer. 
When he’s not spending the day at the pool, Sunghoon volunteers to teach kids classes at the rink he grew up in. Every year, the teaching cycle runs from April to July, at which point the rink holds the summer showcase, for parents and family members to attend and see what they’ve been funding for the past four months. 
“We don’t normally let parents sit in on classes because it’s distracting for the kids,” he explained through a yawn. “And it’s the whole reason I started skating in the first place.” Sunghoon paused. You hadn’t been expecting him to stop speaking but you rubbed your eyes and mumbled oh, really? as you used a pencil to sketch out the outline of your bubble letters. “You know, at first I thought you fell asleep, but I didn’t hear you snoring so I got a little worried,” he said, nervous. 
“I’m still here.” 
He fell quiet for a beat, speaking nervously. “Just let me know if I’m boring you, yeah?” 
“I could listen to you talk forever,” you admitted. “I’m having fun learning more about you.” 
Sunghoon’s light laughter made you bite back a giggle. “You make me feel good about myself,” he said quietly before continuing, giving you no time to respond. “But, yeah, I used to play hockey because I didn’t know how to talk to anyone except my parents and my one-year-old little sister, but my only friend on the hockey team invited me to go and watch him at the showcase one year and it was just.. the greatest thing I’d ever seen.” 
You encouraged Sunghoon to go on, still reeling from his quiet confession, and loving the grin in his voice while he spoke about skating and the way he laughed through some stories from work. Like how on a quiet day at the pool when he’d been messing around with Heeseung, Jake, and Riki in the water, some random guy approached them. 
“And this is so crazy too because we were just, like, fucking around, and the guy goes, “My grandmother can swim faster than you,” like he yelled it and stomped away.” 
Worried about waking your sleeping parents, you covered your mouth while laughing, mainly from the offence you can hear in Sunghoon’s voice over something that happened in October. “What did you guys do after that?” 
“I was on shift so I clocked out and went home.” 
The back of the program has a picture of Sunghoon and some of the other skating coaches, but it’s hard to pay attention to them or the signup sheet at the bottom when you see the wide smile on his face; you love the photo, it’s your favourite. He looks so happy, so radiant. If the scrunch of his nose and eyes is anything to go by, he must have been laughing when the picture was taken. This detail only makes you love it even more. 
In the corner of your eye, Jake leans against a wall, scrolling through his phone with a sheet of paper tucked under his arm. Seeing as he’s now (technically) your friend-in-law, you decide to approach him. Through the crowd of attendees waiting to be seated, he spots you as well, rushing over with the widest smile you’ve ever seen on anyone. You could count his teeth. 
Jake takes you by surprise, hugging you. “Hey! Hoon’s so happy that you’re here,” he says, somehow smiling even wider. “I’m so happy that you’re here, I finally have company!” 
When the double doors to the rink open up, you follow Jake to what he describes as the best seats in the house. “I always sit up here, so our boy knows to look over,” he says with a smile, his eyes never leaving you. “In case you were worried about that. It’s kinda far, and there’s lights, so you might have to wave a little harder than normal but, he’ll see you.” 
You nod, smiling too. “Got it.” Jake doesn’t look away. “Are you okay?” you ask him. More out of concern for your own well-being than anything else; you’ve heard of people murdering their best friend’s crushes before. 
He chews on his lip, tilting his head. All traces of his welcoming smile have faded, replaced with a more solemn expression as he looks over your shoulder for a beat. “Sunghoon’s my best friend,” he starts, and it’s hard not to picture yourself tumbling to your death down the slowly populating rows in front of you. They seem steeper now than before. “And he’s.. well.. you know him. It’s just that, he really likes you, you know? And I’m not saying this to be rude but I know about Yeonjun.. and—” Jake stops short, shooting you an apologetic look. “Anyway, I know that for some people, for you, for me, even, seeing more than one person at a time isn’t a big deal, but Hoon’s not like that.” 
You wait for him to continue. He doesn’t. 
A voice booms through the tannoy, telling everyone to take their seats as the show will be starting soon. 
Unsure what to say, you look out at the ice while Jake’s words sink in. It might have been easier to come up with something if he’d been any less kind about it. Spoken to you in a harsher tone. You hate the idea of Sunghoon knowing about the others, even if they were before him. Hate the idea of Jake having a similar conversation with him; telling Sunghoon that he’s not trying to be rude but..
“Sunghoon’s..” you pause, nervous. “He’s the best, and I can’t imagine seeing anyone else,” you admit. 
Jake beams, trusting you, and nods his head. “He’s gonna love your banner,” he grins. “And that.. angry looking plushy you brought.” 
The lights cut and all of the chatter hushes in an instant. Slowly, they fade back on, as a classical piece begins. Jake bounces his leg so hard you can feel the bench rattle under you, he’s practically glowing with giddiness. He’s like a little puppy, a golden retriever with light hair to match. 
After a short while, a boy skates out onto the ice, tall, graceful, an—Riki? He reaches the middle of the rink and introduces himself, enthusiastically reading a script from a few cue cards and looking right up into the stands to wear you and Jake sit. Beside you, Jake cheers, raising his banner, and you crane your neck to read it (LUCKY STRAWBERRIKI), and on the ice, Riki hides his face with his hand, quickly looking at his feet before continuing with his intro. 
You count eight tiny kids skating towards Riki, followed by Jungwon, and a line of other older skaters, Sunghoon is the last to appear, and your stomach churns with pride. All of them are dressed casually; you like Sunghoon’s straight-cut jeans and open button-up. 
As Jake predicted, Sunghoon (and Jungwon, and Riki) look up in your general direction, and next to you, Jake struggles to hold all three posters up at once so you help him, yelling along excitedly. It’s hard to tell from so far away but it feels like Sunghoon is staring straight at you like you’re the only two people at the rink. You feel like standing, like standing and singing HOOOOOOOOOOOON at the top of your lungs. For a moment you wonder if he’d shout back, telling you that right now he can hardly breathe. As if reading your mind, his mouth tugs up at the corners, slightly, before spreading into an ear-to-ear grin that makes your cheeks burn. 
The entire show passes by in an adorable whirlwind, as you and Jake applaud and encourage all of the performers, gushing with one another over how cute the baby skaters (including Jungwon and Riki) are. It’s beautiful and exciting, and you’re so happy you came. 
But time seems to stop when Sunghoon returns. Jake cheers loudly for him when he skates out; you can’t bring yourself to do the same. 
He comes to a stop in the middle of the rink, looking right up at the two of you. Jake waves his poster and raises yours too, seeming to notice the way you’re stuck to the spot. Sunghoon smiles, and somehow, he’s even more beautiful than you remembered. 
Graceful, elegant, Sunghoon glides on the ice when the music starts, immediately skating into a jump — you watch with held breath. He spins once, his arms tucked neatly by his sides, his hair fanning out around his head. Another spin, beautiful, clean. In the seats around you, people are cheering, you can hear them clear as day but the only person you see is Sunghoon who’s turning into his third rotation; the last. He sticks the landing, and an eternity has passed by as you let a sigh of relief slip out. 
Each jump is more gorgeous than the last, though seems to go on forever — you’re nervous as if it’s you on the ice. 
Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you watch as he skates beautifully, executing smooth spins and controlled turns. You don’t think you could look away from him if you tried — this must be what people mean when they say someone was born for something. Even in the casual setting, he looks like a professional, just as stable and fluid as he was in the videos you’d watched. 
The music fades out, his performance is done, and you find yourself thankful for the fact that no one’s sitting behind you as you stand up. Jake does the same. Both of you hold your banners up for him to see, cheering louder than anyone else. Sunghoon raises a hand to wave at you. You wave back excitedly, getting a little flustered by the girl sitting a few rows ahead of you who turns around, smiling dreamily at Jake and rolling her eyes at you.
After bowing politely, Sunghoon looks back up at you, and you can’t help but blow him a kiss, only feeling silly about it when Jake nudges you with a goofy smile. You watch as Sunghoon raises his right hand for a beat, shifting a little on his skates before reaching out ahead of him, catching the flying kiss. 
Butterflies run rampant in your stomach when he holds his hand, and your kiss, over his heart.
As the show ends, you chat with Jake for a bit, gushing over the performances together as the audience clears out, and you trudge slowly down the stairs and back into the lobby. It’s nice chatting with him, seeing the way his face lights up as he talks so excitedly and passionately about his friends. 
You understand why Sunghoon likes him so much.
Sunghoon shows up at the other end of the lobby space, a vision in purple-tinted hair. You have to tell yourself to keep your feet planted on the spot for fear of literally running into his arms. He doesn’t seem to share the same sentiment, thank God, jogging through the lobby, dipping and dodging people as best and as fast as he can to reach you. 
He hugs you. Holds you tight. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he says, quietly, only for you. 
In your chest, your heart seems to grow tiny fists that throw a million punches a minute. Your brain scrambles for the words to say but you can’t come up with anything, hoping that the tightness of your arms around him lets him know that you’re glad to be here. 
He lets go of you, beaming, and moves to dap up Jake, asking his friend if he’s aware that he’s taking Jungwon and Riki go-karting tonight. 
“I’m doing what?” 
“Yeah, they wanted me to take them but I’m busy.” 
“Busy doing what?” Jake asks conspiratorially, arching a brow. He glances sideways at you, and can’t hold back his laughter. 
Sunghoon sets his jaw, punching Jake in the stomach. “Grow up,” he mutters, stifling a laugh of his own. 
You laugh too, partially at what Jake said, mostly at the way he keels over, clutching his stomach, a long groan passing from his lips. Sunghoon’s brows raise when you hand him the banner. “Look what I made for you.” 
“I saw you holding it earlier, baby, I love it,” he says, beaming at you as he reads over it again. “You did such a good job. Can I take it home?” His eyes sparkle when he looks up at you. Your heart cinches in your chest. 
“Of course.”
Next to you, Jake holds out the banner he made. “Do you wanna take mine home?” 
Sunghoon doesn’t even spare him a glance. “Recycle it,” he says. 
Jake tilts his head, confused. A loud huh comes out as he raises his brows. “I make a banner for you every single year and every single time you turn your nose up at it. But here comes a pretty girl and all of a sudden you love banners. Really, Sunghoon? You love it?” He pauses to let out a laugh, incredulous, seeming not to care about the few people that have turned over in your direction. “I can’t stand you.” Jake’s voice is whiny and hard to take seriously.
“I don’t love banners, I love this banner,” Sunghoon corrects, using his hand to shove Jake’s shoulder before holding the banner up over his chest. 
Amused, you watch the two boys bicker for a bit before Jake cuts Sunghoon off mid-sentence, raising his hands, muttering the word whatever.
Sunghoon seems sceptical of Badtz-Maru when you hand him over. He holds the plushy in his hand, eyeing it suspiciously before wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “He’s cute, baby, really, but why’d you pick the world’s unhappiest penguin?”
“He reminded me of you.” Sunghoon’s jaw drops, brows knitting together as he tilts his head, all while Jake struggles to stifle a laugh. “Because he’s from Gorgeoustown,” you add, your heart singing when Sunghoon kisses the top of your head, and you can’t resist letting your arms wrap around his waist. 
Compliments flow out of you like water from a fountain when Jungwon and Riki join your little group outside. Jungwon, with deep dimples and flushed cheeks, shyly mumbles variations of thank you, and I appreciate that while shifting from one foot to the other. Riki glows with pride, standing up straighter, and asking you what else you liked about his performance. 
The sun feels nice on your arms as you watch the two play a very intense, high-stakes game of rock, paper, scissors for the front seat of Jake’s car. They’re playing best of five and getting ready to begin the third, and possibly final round. Riki has two wins under his belt, it’s not looking good for Jungwon whose breathing has become heavy. He’s taken off his hoodie and is stretching his arms in preparation. 
You start a countdown from three and laugh so hard your stomach starts to hurt when Jungwon throws a losing rock against Riki’s paper, the oldest boy falling to his knees on the pavement and holding his head in his hands. Riki jumps higher than he had on the ice, embracing Jake in a tight hug, overjoyed by the victory while Jungwon groans. 
“Let��s hang out,” Sunghoon says as you walk to his car. 
Squeezing his hand, you nod and try not to melt on the concrete when he opens the car door for you. “What do you normally do after skating?” 
Sunghoon seems to think about your question for a while, tilting his head to the side as a fond smile pulls at the corners of his lips. “My parents would always take me out for dessert after competitions, or the next day if it was too late.” 
“Well, what do you think, Hoon? Is it too late for dessert?” 
Giddy in a way you’ve never seen him, he shakes his head in response. And in his car, he hums along to the radio, gingerly resting his hand on your bare knee. 
Sunghoon takes you to a dessert spot by Chaewon’s house, a fairly popular family-owned establishment that serves her favourite cheesecake. You sink into your seat over the table from him, in a slightly stiff booth with a tall back that makes it seem like it’s just you two and a coffee shop chatter Youtube video playing on a loop. 
“What are you having, baby?” he asks, drumming his fingers against the laminated menu. 
Knowing that Chaewon is coming over later, you let your eyes fall to the ice cream selection, reading the names of all 27 flavours and still settling on the only flavour you ever order here. “Cookie dough,” you say, reaching across the table to point at it on his menu. 
“And?” 
“And nothing.” 
His brows furrow. “You’re only getting ice cream?” 
“I mean, it’ll probably come in a cup, with a spoon,” you say, liking the way Sunghoon laughs at your stupid comment. “Chaewon’s staying over tonight so I don’t wanna fill up too much before dinner. I’ll order some cheesecake to take away when we’re done though, it’s her favourite,” you explain. 
He nods his head. “We can share my tiramisu.” 
It’s only after a conversation with Jake later on that you realise how big of a deal this is.
The two of you only manage to stop chatting and laughing when a girl with a cute bow in her hair and a smile on her face comes to ask if you’re ready to order. Across from you, Sunghoon orders a slice of tiramisu and a 3-scoop cup of coffee-flavoured ice cream. He runs a big hand through his hair and clears his throat, cheeks covered in pink as he asks if it would be okay for us to get a milkshake, to share, so, like, one milkshake, but then with two straws? Her eyes flick between the two of you and she grins, nodding her head but Sunghoon doesn’t go on. 
“A strawberry milkshake, please,” you say, watching the waitress take note of it before saying she’ll be right back. 
More than anyone you’ve ever met, Sunghoon loves tiramisu; he adores it. He lets you take the first spoon, and it’s delicious so you don’t have to fake your reaction when you try it. Sunghoon lights up with childlike excitement as he tries the second spoonful, his eyes widening as he hums around the dessert, shaking his head a little out of genuine enjoyment. 
Surprisingly, he’s able to tell you about the origins of the word (stems from the Italian tira mi su or pick me up), and shares a fond memory of the first time he tried it — he was 9 years old and choked on the cocoa powder on top.  
Sunghoon takes the first sip from the tall glass that sits between you both, you gulp at the sight of his lips wrapping around the straw and need to try it too. Your noses bump a little when you lean in, and, with sweet strawberry coating your tongue, you can’t help but giggle.
As you’d been expecting, your cookie dough ice cream is delicious and after a while, you use your tiny plastic spoon to scrape the sides of your cup and ignore the way Sunghoon laughs at you. Even when he’s mocking you, he still makes your stomach flutter.
“I can get you more if you want,” he offers with a wide smile. 
You shake your head. Sunghoon frowns, watching you collect the last pitiful scrapings before eating them. “You were so pretty today,” you tell him around the spoon.
“Did you think I was ugly before?” 
“Extremely.” His face scrunches up with laughter, showing off his dimple and his fangs. “You must have practised forever,” you add, distracted.
Sunghoon shrugs, reaching his hand across the table to play with your fingers. “In a way I did but not really,” he says vaguely, using his nail to draw a circle in the palm of your hand. “I don’t plan anything for the showcase, it’s just meant for fun, you know? I just go out and do what feels right on the day — so, I guess I’ve been practising for the last 13 years.” 
Completely awestruck, you utter a quiet “wow” and giggle when he pinches your hand. 
“What’re you and Chaewon gonna do later?” he asks, changing the subject.
You let him. At the mention of your best friend, a smile teases at your lips and Sunghoon matches it, beaming sweetly at you, looking forward to what you have to say. “I’m gonna cut her hair.” 
“Really?” Your heart thuds at the genuine interest in his tone. “Do you always cut it for her?”
“No,” you pout. “I’ve never cut anyone’s hair.”
“Not even your own?” Sunghoon laughs when you shake your head. “Wow, she must really trust you.”
It’s your turn to shrug. “We’re best friends.”
“She’s lucky.” 
A chuckle slips out of you and you scrunch your nose. “Me too.” 
When he sees the waitress approaching, Sunghoon stacks your dishes to help out, handing them over to her with a soft smile. “Would we be able to get two slices of cheesecake?” he asks. “To go?”
“Sure, what flavour?”
“Vanilla, please.” 
Eunchae, as you read from her nametag, makes a face, pulling air through her teeth. “The vanilla’s gonna be about an hour wait.” 
Sunghoon pales, looking at you. “That’s alright,” you say, smiling. 
“Is there anything else I can get for you?”
Sunghoon shakes his head, asking only for the bill. The two of you go back and forth on it and you practically beg him to let you pay. You put up a good fight, only backing down because he renders you speechless, shaking his head and saying: I’m not gonna take my girl on a date then make her pay. 
His girl hides her face with her hands, flustered. 
He laughs. 
A beat passes before he stands up, holding a hand out and asking you to go with him to the photo booth. With a smile, you slip your hand into his, allowing him to tug you towards it. Behind the curtain, he wraps his arm around your waist, leaning forward to pay. The two of you agree that you’ll take a set for him to keep and one for you. On the screen, a countdown starts from 4, and you almost feel under pressure. 
Posing for the first picture is a little awkward; you watch as Sunghoon puffs out his cheeks, poking one, and suppress your smile to copy. The second isn’t much better; you both grin and hold up peace signs. As you pose for the third, you can feel Sunghoon’s eyes burning holes in the side of your face, can see him on the screen, staring as you look at yourself ahead but can’t bring yourself to look at him. 
The countdown reaches 2 and he holds you closer. His lips touch your cheek when the screen says 1 and you grin when the picture is taken. Sunghoon’s gaze is soft when you look at him. His hand touches your cheek, heavy on your skin, as he leans in to kiss you. You’ve never been kissed in a photo booth before and your heart beats in the back of your throat when the screen flashes, taking the last photo. 
He sticks his head out of the curtain to collect the 4-cut and cringes a little. “God, we look so stiff in the first two,” he complains. 
“I love them,” you say, taking the photo set from his hand. “They’re perfect.” You mean it. The visible awkwardness that you can feel through the frame is endearing to you, and you like the gradual transition into comfort as the photos progress. 
He looks at you with disbelieving eyes and pays for the next set. 
When you reach your table again, Sunghoon slides into the booth next to you, letting his arm rest over your shoulders, and he’s just as sweet as the tiramisu you tasted on his lips. 
With full bellies and two slices of cheesecake packaged in a pretty yellow box, you head back to his car, where he clips his photo set to the sun visor. You can’t help but lean over the centre console to kiss him again. When you pull away from him, you swear his eyes dart to the backseat, but the moment goes by as quickly as it happens so you must have been imagining things. He drives you home with the radio playing lowly, and his fingers locked with yours. 
On your doorstep, Sunghoon kisses you goodbye, biting at your bottom lip and grabbing your ass. He’s never kissed you like this before. You don’t think you were making things up earlier. “I really like your dress,” he tells you quietly, his lips brushing yours. 
Suddenly nervous, you mumble a thank you. 
“I like everything you wear, but this dress?” Sunghoon pulls away from you, just enough to rake his eyes down your body before holding you close. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, holding your cheek in his palm before kissing you again.  
A few hours later, Chaewon stands on a towel in the bathroom, between you and the mirror while your right hand shakes over a pair of scissors. “Are you sure about this?”
She nods her head. “It doesn’t need to be neat, it just needs to be short,” she assures you, smiling at your reflection in the mirror. Despite only just passing her shoulders, Chaewon’s hair is the longest you think you’ve ever seen it. “I wanted to grow it out, like Kazuha’s, but I hate the way it feels on my skin.” Freshly washed, her hair is just beyond damp and darkening her pink t-shirt. 
You gulp, nervous. “How about you sit down?” 
She nods, saying it’s a good call. 
Chaewon sits on a towel in your bedroom, between you and your full-length mirror while your right hand shakes over a pair of scissors. Before you grab them, you move her hair over her shoulders just so she can tell you once more to give her a chin-length bob. 
She does. You nod. 
Releasing a deep breath you make the first cut, and the sound of the blades slicing through her hair leaves goosebumps forming on your arms. Wet and slightly clumped together, the remaining hair falls from your hold and smacks her ear. You hold your breath as she runs her fingers through it. 
“It’s even!” 
“I only cut one part, Wonie.”
“Yeah, but you did good!” Her eyes meet yours in the mirror and she grins. “Keep going, keep going!” 
The other three sections generate similar reactions, and you keep having to tell her to sit still while you try to trim her hair. 
Chaewon claps her hands when you finish, running her fingers through her “new” bob. “I love it!” she squeals, beaming at your reflection. “It’s perfect.” She turns around on the spot to fling her arms at you, appreciative, wrapping you up in her familiar, soft scent. 
The two of you sit on the couch, as Gossip Girl plays on the TV. For the duration of an entire episode, Chaewon turns her head gently from left to right, her short hair fanning out around her, with a light smile on her face as she does so. You only manage to look away from her when you remember the cheesecake, getting up from your seat abruptly, and excusing yourself. 
As you enter the kitchen, you check your phone, grinning at the sight of a few texts from Sunghoon. You open the fridge as you unlock your phone, clicking on the notification as you take the box of dessert out. Giggles fall out of you at the first message: a cute bed selfie, with his plushy tucked under his arm. 
sh: no way
sh: he smells like you :o
sh: are we seeing each other tmrw? 
sh: (say yes) 
It doesn’t make sense to you that Sunghoon is as cute as he is — you have to put the cheesecake down to relax. 
you: noooooooooo ur so cute
you: i gave him some perfume :o and i’m w wonie tn and tmrw but another time
you: talk later hoonie! 
The sight of the box in your hand makes Chaewon spring out of her seat, covering her mouth with her hands as she does a cute happy dance, prompting you to set the cake down on the coffee table to join her. Tired out, you slump back onto the couch after a while, smiling when she hands over your plate before sitting next to you. 
With a fond smile, you pull your knees to your chest, watching as Chaewon says: You know you love me, xoxo, Gossip Girl, in perfect sync with Kristen Bell. She grins to herself before taking a forkful of cheesecake to her mouth, moaning around the utensil. 
You’ve never known anyone to like dessert as much as her, and a grin forms on its own as you remember the way Sunghoon had done almost the same thing with tiramisu only hours earlier. Being an avid hater of tiramisu, you wonder how Chaewon might react if you told her, before focusing on your slice and the gorgeous face of Leighton Meester. 
The two of you must sit through four episodes, before you sleepily lean into her, telling her she can finish off your piece of cake that she’s been eyeing hungrily since she finished hers approximately 15 Gossip Girl blasts ago. She watches you from the counter while you wash the dishes, thanking you again for the cake. 
Later that night — when she thinks you’re asleep — Chaewon presses a soft kiss to your cheek. “I’ve never had a friend like you before,” she whispers, turning over in bed and grabbing your hand. You don’t know what to do when you hear her sniffling next to you. 
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Salt air and sun cream skate around you — the only things you can smell over the oil soaked chips you share with Chaewon at the beach. Heavy trainers weigh down each corner of the fitted bed sheet underneath you and Chaewon as you watch the wind push clouds through the too-blue sky. Drunk on cider, she laughs to herself, pointing above you. “That one kinda looks like Sunghoon’s friend, right?”
“Which one?” you ask, moving your head to see exactly what she’s pointing at. You’re not sure if you’re asking which friend or which cloud. 
“That one, like Jay.”
Laughter hits you immediately. She’s absolutely right. A triangular mass in the sky leaves you both cackling and rolling around. 
Same as the sand through your fingers, three weeks slip by. You and Sunghoon take more pictures in photo booths and struggle to stop kissing each other. He clasps your necklaces, and puts sunscreen on your back; you hug him from behind and take naps in the park with your head on his chest. Sunghoon makes daisy chains to sit in your hair, and puffy paper stars to fill a jar in your desk. You take his little sister for ice cream and braid her hair when she asks you. 
Tonight however, completely spent from a day of shopping with your mum and Chaewon, the three of you sat on the couch, all eating your bodyweight in cheesecake and crying over the ending of How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days.  
After you’ve all recovered, your mum watches from the car as you hug Chaewon on her doorstep and you fall asleep in the passenger seat on the ride home. No longer small enough to be carried up to your room, you drag your feet to the bed where you fall asleep as soon as your body hits the mattress. But a phone call from Kazuha disrupts your slumber. 
“Are you going to the pool tomorrow?” she asks, sounding alarmingly awake for 4:57 a.m. 
“Tomorrow, today, or tomorrow, tomorrow?” 
“Like,” she pauses, you can picture her running a hand through her hair as she thinks. “In a few hours, I guess.” 
You hum down the phone. 
“We can go together!” The smile in her voice is audible. “Oh, Jay likes YJ. Did I tell you? And fuck, Lee Heeseung is so annoying.” 
“No, he’s not,” you say defensively, slightly rattled by the fact that she woke you up in the middle of the night to shit on your boy’s best friend.
Kazuha scoffs. “Sure.” The line falls quiet for a beat. “He’s not actually annoying, I was just trying to announce that I have a crush on him.” Of course she was. 
“Heeseung seems like a great guy and I’m really happy for you, but let’s talk at the pool, okay?” 
“Talk at the pool!” she chirps, cutting the phone. 
You don’t manage to get back to sleep. 
At the pool, Kazuha says you’re beautiful when you pull your t-shirt over your head and cuts you off before you get to thank her, going on a tangent about how badly she wants to nap but doesn’t want to tan unevenly. Or sleep for too long that her face gets puffy. You take your mission seriously, using your phone to set timers and waking her up each time it goes off despite the way she grumbles at you. 
Riki runs over to tell you to watch him before running away and flipping into the water. Your praise doesn’t seem to get old, but the flips don’t either, each one just as clean and impressive as the ones before. 
Kazuha’s on her 4th rotation when you find yourself wandering over to the concession stand, in the mood for something sweet after being tempted by the scent of baking dough wafting over the pool. But as you get further and further ahead in line, you eventually decide you only want a lollipop, and there are only two people in front of you when you realise you left your phone in your chair and won’t be able to pay.
As if sent from heaven, someone taps you on the shoulder, but you’re met with no one when you look to your left; Sunghoon’s laugh is adorable on the other side of you, contagious when he bumps your hip with his. 
“Hi, baby,” you say, looking up at him. He has a white towel on his head, covering his forehead and tucked behind his ears. “Is there a reason you have this on?” you ask him, touching the damp fabric that sits on his shoulders.  
“What, I’m not allowed to dry my hair?” 
“I’m not allowed to be curious?” 
Sunghoon gently flicks your forehead and you pretend it hurts. 
Like Hannah Montana, he hooks his fingers under the front of the towel, pulling the “wig” off to reveal his luscious (and soaking wet) locks of dark hair. A gasp falls from your lips as your hand flies up to cover your mouth. Having essentially grown up with Sunghoon, or rather, grown up adjacent to Sunghoon, him having black hair isn’t anything new. But it’s definitely something you’re fond of. Fond of him and the way his dark hair only brings out his features, matching his thick brows and the hard lines of his face. 
“Do you like it?” he asks. 
You love it. “What are you gonna do if I don’t?” you ask, pushing some of his hair from his forehead. 
“Buzzcut.” 
With a worried look on his face, he lets you use both hands to cover his hair and imagine it. “Are you laughing because I’m so devastatingly gorgeous with black hair or because I’m about to buzz my head?” Laughter bubbles in your chest, as his hair flops back over his forehead. “Wait, baby, no.” A deep pout settles on his lips. “You actually don’t like it?” 
“I love it, you know I love it.” 
Sunghoon lets you compliment him until you reach the front of the line when he talks with the person on shift. He uses his phone to pay for what you want, and seeing your smiling face on his lock screen makes your cheeks burn while you hide your face in his back, arms locked limply around his waist. 
The two of you only leave the stand when the line behind you builds up, standing in the shade next to it. He watches you unwrap the candy and raises a brow when you hold it out to him. “First lick?”
He shakes his head. 
“Come on, Hoonie,” you tease, letting your hand rest on his arm, liking the way it tenses under your touch. “I know you want a taste.” 
His eyes drop to your chest for a split second, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he lifts his gaze. “You have no idea,” he mumbles before opening his mouth a little, leaning down towards you. His lips are slightly parted and very tempting as they wrap around the lollipop. 
“Good?”
Sunghoon’s eyes lock with yours as he sucks on the candy. “Very,” he says, the word coming out kind of garbled around it before letting you take it back. You watch him chew on his lip, humming to himself at the lingering taste of your lolly. 
The cola flavour hits your tongue immediately and you like the way Sunghoon gulps as he watches you, struggling to maintain the eye contact you’d had a moment earlier. You don’t take nearly as long as he did, pulling the lolly from your lips with a satisfying pop before smiling up at him, sickly sweet. “Very good indeed,” you echo him, letting the candy rest between your lips before you turn to walk away. Sunghoon follows, thankfully. Heading back over to where you’d been sitting, you find Kazuha’s chair empty. 
A shriek over your shoulder locates her like a pin on a map. 
In the pool, you see her sitting on Heeseung’s shoulders cackling as she pushes Sunoo over so hard that Jay, whose shoulders he’s sitting on, falls too. Gleefully, she leans back, falling into the water only to resurface and find her way into Heeseung’s arms. You stop walking when she tilts her head up to kiss him. Oh? Sunghoon walks right into your back. The kiss is short, not much more than a peck really, she pulls away with a grin on her face, swimming to the edge of the pool and Heeseung’s ears turn red as he watches her. 
Against your own, Sunghoon’s skin is warm, slick almost from what you think is a combination of pool water, sweat, and sunscreen. You hate yourself for liking it. His hardening dick presses against you, and your heart swells — some frenzied mix of feeling flattered, and horniness, you assume. A flame burns in your stomach, hot, blue. Neither of you moves for a while, long enough for Kazuha to walk over to your seats and scrunch her hair with a t-shirt. 
Sunghoon exhales shakily when you lean into him, resting the back of your head on his chest and holding the lollipop by the stick. “You okay?” you ask, voice nothing more than a whisper. 
His head dips, breath fanning your neck as he kisses your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles against your skin before standing up straight. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, holding you close. “Do you wanna come over tomorrow?” he asks, words coming out as one. “My family’s on vacation.” His cock twitches against you when he says it. 
“They are?” 
“Mm, they leave tomorrow morning.”
A breathy laugh comes from your nose as you step away from his body, turning around to look at him. Not so subtly, he takes the towel from his shoulder and holds it in his hand, covering himself. A proper laugh falls from your lips, your head tipping back a bit. 
“What if I wanna come today?” you ask, raising a brow. “Tonight even?” 
“Tonight? I can call you if you wanna come tonight.” 
You have a feeling that the two of you are talking about entirely different things.
“Pick me up?” 
“Always.” 
Sunghoon’s bedroom is exceptionally neat. Everything on his desk (his PC set up and a notebook) is placed precisely, and there’s nothing on the floor except for his furniture and a giant 8-ball rug. His off-white walls are completely bare, save for three posters above his desk; your favourite is a handmade (you think) white poster that reads There’s No Planet B in slightly messy block capitals, which sits between blown up pictures of Childish Gambino, and SZA. Underneath the perfectly aligned posters, stuck right above his monitor are the words: Figure skating prince, Park Sunghoon! You’re the best! with a bright red lipstick kiss in the corner; your heart does a triple axel at the sight. 
He stands in the middle of his open doorway like he has been for the past two minutes, watching you admire the medals that sit in a display case on a floating shelf. In 2015 he took home a gold medal from the Lombardia Trophy, and another from the Asian Open Trophy. The two silver medals beside them tell you that he continued to do well at the Asian Open Trophy in the two years that followed.
Along with the Sunghoon you saw today, tiny Sunghoon skates through your mind, so impressive and so young. The quiet boy who often missed class. Who’d fall asleep with his face in a textbook during the classes he did attend. Who you’d let borrow your notes after days of absence, and who wordlessly thanked you with a carton of banana milk each time. How didn’t you know about all of this?  Beyond awestruck by his accomplishments, you look over your shoulder to ask him about it. 
Sunghoon only shrugs. “I was okay.”
“You were okay?” You can’t help but scoff at him. “I’ve seen the videos, Sunghoon. I’ve seen you in person, you’re.. amazing.” The word feels like an understatement. “I don’t know very much about skating but you’re breathtaking.”
“Thank you,” he says, looking at his feet. 
“Have you thought about the Olympics?” you ask seriously. You get ready to apologise when you watch him purse his lips to the side, making you worry you’ve touched a nerve—But Sunghoon speaks before you have the chance. 
“I used to train with the Olympic team but it was too much pressure for me, and I much prefer coaching nowadays, it’s, like, the perfect way for me to feel all the joy of skating and absolutely none of the stress.” The fond smile on his face makes you think he means it.
It almost feels wrong to sit on his neatly made bed but you take a seat on its edge anyway, desperate for one of you to at least look comfortable in this situation. BaMa sits between his pillows and you can’t help but smile at the penguin who stares back at you, unimpressed. Sunghoon stays in place. From where you’re sitting, it’d be difficult to miss the way his eyes widen, stuck on you as he chews on his bottom lip. “Are you okay?” you ask him after a while, starting to feel awkward under his stare. 
For a split second, Sunghoon presses his lips into a straight line that shows his dimple before shrugging. “I’ve never brought a girl to my room before. I don’t know what we’re supposed to do,” he says, fixing his gaze on the wall behind you. 
“The only thing we’re supposed to do is whatever you want. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
Sunghoon looks at you, thinking. “We should kiss,” he blurts out. 
“That’s what you want?”
“Badly.” But he doesn’t move. 
You wait it out a little, counting thirty whole seconds with no sign of movement from him. “How’re you gonna kiss me from over there?” 
A gorgeous grin takes over his face. Sunghoon closes the door behind him, crossing the room in a few paces to sit beside you. With some hesitation he pats his lap, struggling to meet your eyes while he does so. Your insides feel like a shaken bottle of Coke when you straddle him, and you can hear him exhale shakily at the way your dress hitches up, showing off your bare thighs. Sunghoon’s thighs are firm underneath you, his pants soft against your skin. It’s no use trying not to think about riding his thigh or riding him. But try as you might, your efforts don’t stand a chance against the feeling of him hardening under you.
His lips catch yours in a gentle kiss. You can feel the way he smiles, feel a giggle, light, airy, passing from his mouth into yours. It’s hard not to smile too. His fists clench behind you, bunching up the fabric of your dress in his palms desperately. Hard and thick, his cock presses against your core. You moan and Sunghoon all but freezes, his hands releasing your dress.  
Barely a second passes before he grabs you again, leaning back against the bed without breaking the kiss for anything, until you need to catch your breath and you pull away, sitting back in his lap with your hands resting on his toned stomach. You instinctively grind down on him when his cock twitches under you.
From your seat you can see the way his eyes widen when you do, see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat when he gulps. Or maybe the gulp came first; it’s hard to say. Either way, you don’t think you care. He sighs, relieved when you rock your hips against his for a second time. 
Sunghoon looks like sin the third time you do it, groaning and sitting up on his elbows, looking at you through lidded eyes, sighing through pouty lips. “I’m not ready to have sex yet.” 
You freeze in place. “That’s okay.” 
“I’m sorry.” 
“Don’t apologise, there’s nothing to be sorry for. I’m ready when you are.” 
“I just feel bad that you came all the way over here for nothing.”
Looking down at Sunghoon with all of the uncertainty on his face makes your stomach twist. You wish he knew how much you like being with him; like spending time with him. Wish he knew how nice it was to spend the day sitting by the pool and just getting to look at him. How nice it was to eat fruit in the park with him. To talk about nothing on the phone before bed. You rest a hand on his cheek, melting when his fingers wrap around your wrist and his thumb strokes the back of your hand. “Hoon, I’m not here because I wanna have sex with you, I’m here because I like you.” This thing you’ve felt for weeks, lived with and nurtured seems so foreign now that you’ve put it into words. 
The smile on his sweet face almost has you saying it again, and again, if for no other reason than seeing the way his fangs peek out at you, or how his eyes crinkle up into crescents, or hearing how he laughs, breathy, happy.  Sunghoon moves his head to kiss your palm. “I like you,” he says into your skin, mumbling like it’s a secret. “And I like being with you.”  
Even though Sunghoon saying he likes you feels a bit like a toddler telling you they can’t read, the statement shocks you. You knew he liked you, there wasn’t a shadow of a doubt this entire time, but hearing the words, feeling the shape of them against your palm makes his feelings for you seem tangible; so vivid; so thick. Like moisturiser sinking into your pores. 
He moves his head a little so your hand cups his cheek again. He smiles, soft, shy, Sunghoon. “You do.. eventually want that though, right?” The way his brows knit together when he asks is so cute that you can’t help but laugh a little. “Like, to have sex with me,” he adds. 
“Yes, when you’re ready.” 
“I’m ready to do.. other things,” he says, voice dwindling into a shy whisper. 
Curiosity piqued, you arch a brow. “Yeah?” Sunghoon nods. You press on. “Other things like..” 
A beat passes, and Sunghoon doesn’t speak. 
Instead, he opts to pull you down close to his chest, turning the two of you over. My God. His thin silver chain slips out of his shirt, swinging over your face just a bit, his light hair tickles your skin. You think you’d be happy if you died like this. With his bottom lip pinned between his teeth, his eyes scan your face, locking on your parted lips. His fingernail traces shapes on your hip, you immediately notice how blunt it is now compared to yesterday at the pool and can’t help but smile. Sunghoon moves his hand, his fingertips ghosting over your skin until he reaches the top of your panties. 
“Is this okay?” he asks. 
You nod, smiling, eager. You think you might die like this. 
His finger is long and thick, rubbing devastatingly slow circles on your clit through your underwear. Sunghoon puts a little pressure on it, just enough to please you yet still leave you wanting more. He slips a finger into your hole, pressing a kiss to your lips and catching your gasp in his mouth. 
“What got you so wet, baby?” 
There’s something about hearing these words from Sunghoon that makes them sound new, makes them sound fresh; alluring. Makes you want to cum on the spot when you answer. “You did.” Quickly, you learn that the way his lips quirk up into a smile also makes you want to cum on the spot.
You try to focus on the feeling of his tongue on yours, on the loud, wet sound of your lips smacking together, on anything other than how much better one of his fingers feels than two of yours. How much better he fills you up. How quickly he finds your spot and presses on it. A surge of pleasure licks down your spine, causing you to yelp. Kissing becomes hard fast, but if the way he moves his head to your suck lightly at your neck is anything to go by, he doesn’t mind.
He bites and he nips and he kisses the tender skin to soothe you, all while pushing a second finger into you. Time stops at the stretch and you arch your back towards the ceiling. He passes a breathy laugh; calls you cute. Your thighs press together around his hand. 
Leaning up from your skin, he makes a scissor motion with his fingers to work you open, studying the way your eyes screw shut, liking the way you gasp. His head dips back down beside yours, hair tickling your face. You can feel his lips graze your skin, breath fanning your ear. 
“I can’t stop imagining how you might taste,” Sunghoon whispers. “You gonna let me find out?” 
Your dress is bunched up around your waist, and if it wasn’t for all the material, you might have been able to see the trail of spit and love bites that Sunghoon had left on your stomach. You’ll have no choice but to wear one-pieces and full-length shirts for at least a week. There’s a smile on his face as he looks up at you from between your thighs. 
Sunghoon kisses the dark spot on your panties, holding the wet fabric between his lips, tasting you. A quiet moan slips from him, and your body jolts involuntarily, a chill inching up your spine. His fingers hook on the sides of your underwear and he looks up at you, smiling when you nod your head, pulling them down when you lift your hips. With all that material out of the way, he can finally see your pussy, and the word fuck comes tumbling from his lips before he groans. “So pretty, you’re so pretty, YN.”
He buries his face between your thighs to press light kisses to your clit, pecking it sweetly. Your body buzzes from the contact. “Shit,” you sigh at the feeling of him licking a strip from your dripping hole back up to your clit. 
“My God,” he whispers, licking his lips. He presses his tongue against you, lapping up your wetness and humming appreciatively. Sunghoon’s eyes flutter shut when he holds your swollen clit between his lips, sucking on it, licking at it, slowly, passionately, the way he kisses your mouth. His movements make you jolt and he chuckles against you, a delicious vibration running along your cunt.
Unable to fully express how you feel, you settle with saying so good through a whine. A match strikes a flame in your stomach when Sunghoon moves his head down a little, letting his tongue tease your hole, his nose bumps your clit and he moans into you when you clench around the tip of his tongue. You can’t help but grip his hair to hold him in place, hoping he’ll never stop.
Shamelessly, you hump his pretty face as your orgasm quickly approaches, reminding you how long it’s been since you were last eaten out — not that anyone has ever come close to making you feel this good.  
His lips focus on your clit again as he presses a thick finger into your hole, curling it up towards your belly button a few times before adding another. Immediately, your toes curl up, everything flashes white behind your eyelids while your orgasm rips through you and Sunghoon moans when you finish. You’re thankful for the way he slows down, letting your cum slip out onto his lips and chin for a beat before sucking and licking your slit to clean you up, holding you down as you squirm against his sheets from the sensitivity. 
Looking just as spent as you feel, he leans back on his heels. His eyes are blown wide, his chest heaving, and his lips are swollen, glistening in your arousal that’s spread all over the lower part of his face. Spellbound and unblinking, he stares straight ahead at your cunt. 
“Hoon,” you say, breathless, leaning up on your elbows. 
“Yeah, baby?” He doesn’t look away when he speaks. The trance seems to break at your lack of a response and he seems to want to cuddle just as much as you do if the way he scrambles off the floor and crawls over the bed to you is anything to go by.
Save for Sunghoon’s coaching sessions, the two of you are practically joined at the hip for the entire weekend. In the mornings and before bed, you brush your teeth together and don’t even separate to shower, stuffing yourselves in the cubicle to make out and lather shampoo in each other's hair or soap on each other's backs. 
It’s this excess time together that makes waking up to nothing but a note in Sunghoon’s absence so disturbing. His handwriting stirs something in you, the short and sweet: miss you already, please come visit me at work :) 
None of the girls want to go with you, so you find yourself trying on different swimsuits and figuring out what you’ll do at the pool on your own. With four magazines you’ve already read, a book, and your laptop just in case, you make your way there, enjoying the sun on your skin as you walk. 
“Hi!” A chirpy voice makes you flinch when you reach the pool. Sunoo’s whole face is curved into a grin when you look at him. “I’m Sunoo!” he says, extending a hand for you to shake. His grip is firm, not matching his smile at all. “Do you wanna hang out with us?” 
Equal parts excited and scared to say no, you nod. Dumping your bag in a locker, you meet Sunoo out by the changing rooms’ entrance, and he smiles when he sees you. You follow him over to the smaller pool where the rest of the boys are, Sunghoon included, and introduces you. 
The boys look around at one another, wondering if Sunoo knows that all of them have already met you. He doesn’t pay it any mind, jumping in and joining them. They all continue bothering each other while you sit on the edge, dipping your legs into the water. 
Sunghoon, who’s been grinning at you since you arrived, swims over to you and stands in the space between your legs. Cool droplets hit your thighs when he lifts his arms up to wrap around your waist in an embrace that might leave others wondering how many years it’s been since you last saw each other. After promising Jungwon that you won’t make fun of his armbands, you card your fingers through Sunghoon’s wet hair, giggling to yourself when he presses a kiss to your stomach. 
“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” 
“Well, yes,” he says, looking up at you with a pout on his lips. “I’m just on duty at this pool today. Are you unhappy to be spending time with me?” 
“A little.”
Sunghoon pulls you into the water with him. “Even as a joke I don’t like that you said that.” There’s a crease in his brow that you want to kiss away but he’s already calling the boys over when you have the idea. Before you know it, all seven of them are splashing you with so much vigour that you don’t even bother fighting back. Even Riki who’s taken a liking to you shows no mercy.
As much fun as you had, you can’t help but feel a little drained when Sunghoon takes you home at the end of the day. You end up spending the week with him and his friends, and Riki seems crushed when you politely decline his invitation to poker night on Friday but his spirits lift when you say you’ll treat him to ice cream if he wins. On Saturday afternoon when you get out of the shower, you spend the better part of an hour wrapped in your towel texting Sunghoon, grinning at the messages he sent you while you were catching up on the girls’ group chat. 
sh: riki didn’t win anything last night so don’t let him lie to you, ok baby?
sh: plus im kinda mad at him ngl ..
sh: i wanna see u today
sh: only you
sh: need it :( 
sh: if i find out you’re making plans w riki rn i’ll kill him 
sh: babyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy
sh: i miss you can i take you out 
you: why are you beefing a kid ur 500 
sh: you’re older than me ???
you: yes and ur my baby bubu bear 
sh: .. 
sh: picnic baby
sh: ? 
you: yes when
sh: rn.. 
you: uhm..
you: let me go get ready i miss u so bad
Your picnic quickly turns into an evening nap session for Sunghoon who, full on pizza and cider, lays down on his stomach with closed eyes and his cheek on his forearms. Meanwhile, you slowly sip cider from a sun-warmed bottle and pick off bits of pepperoni to eat, knowing Sunghoon will be annoyed about it later. The setting sun shifts the sky through warm oranges and purples, casting its hues over the park and Sunghoon’s sleeping form. 
“Quit watching me,” he mumbles, blinking his eyes open and yawning as he sits back up. Soft hair is all flat on the side he’d been lying on and his lips rest in a pout that, when combined with his eyes resting in a permanent squint, makes him look confused.
You watch with a grin on your face as he sits back on his hands, crossing his legs. “I have something for you, actually.” 
“For me?” you ask, shocked, your brows raise, and butterflies go crazy in your stomach. The thought of Sunghoon seeing something and thinking of you drives you crazy; you’re in way deeper than you could ever have anticipated. 
You hear the bikes whizzing past you, zipping down the cycle path over to your left, you can see the people walking dogs, pushing strollers, jogging, walking. But it still feels like you’re the only people here. The only two people left in the world, sitting on Sunghoon’s blanket in the middle of this park you’ve come to frequent. 
“For you. Do you see anyone else here?” Sunghoon chuckles, though you can see his nervousness peeking through the joy on his face. “Well, kinda for us I guess, to put it properly. You know what? No, it’s dumb. Forget I spoke.” He covers his face with his hands, embarrassed. 
“Something for us?” Even though it’s not a new development, the thought of you both being an us, in any capacity, still makes you giddy, and the butterflies in your stomach are bordering on feral. “Baby, come on. If it’s from you it’s not dumb. I promise I’ll love it.” You nudge his knee gently.
“You promise?” 
“Promise.” Your pinky finds his, linking together for a little while longer than you’d expected. 
“There’s some stuff I have to say first though, is that okay?” he asks, continuing when you nod. “I know you don’t like talking about it, but we should probably have some kind of conversation about what’s going to happen when you go back to uni, you know?” 
The thought of leaving unsettles you; of leaving him, but you’re desperate not to show it. “Yeah,” you say, aiming for calm but hitting upset instead.
Sunghoon chews on his lip before he speaks again. “And you’re happy, right? Like, with me?” 
You nod. Of course, you want to say but the words get caught in your head, how could I not be?
“Good.” Sunghoon smiles. “Because I like you, so much, and I hate the idea of you going back and telling all your friends about the totally awesome, smokin’ hot, mega babe you hooked up with over the summer.” He continues when you nod. “So I’ve been thinking it might be nice if, when your uni friends ask about your summer, and you feel comfortable talking about me, that you tell them about me as your boyfriend.” The uncertainty in his tone doesn’t match the widening grin on his face while speaking, and the word boyfriend comes out as nothing more than a whisper but you hear it clear as day. 
Head spinning, you meet his eyes, a hopeful glint behind them as he watches you. “Do you mean my totally awesome, smokin’ hot, mega babe boyfriend?” 
“It wouldn’t upset me if you said that.” 
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Hold that thought,” he blurts out, opening his backpack. 
Drawing a deep breath, Sunghoon pulls out a pink box with your name written neatly on it before placing it in your lap and asking you to open it. He chews on his lip while he watches. 
WILL YOU BE MY GIRL ? is written on little chocolates that span three rows. The word girl is followed by six empty slots that you can only assume held the word friend. Between the shy look on Sunghoon’s face, and the gesture as a whole your heart leaps jaggedly in your chest. “Will you be my girl?” you read, unable to keep from grinning like a fool.
“I picked them up yesterday before the guys came over, and Riki..” he pauses to sigh, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his neck. “He ate part of them. I think he shared them with Jungwon actually — not that it matters. Anyway, the store’s closed on Sundays so I wasn’t able to replace them or anything, and I didn’t wanna wait any longer to ask,” Sunghoon says in a partial ramble. 
You look down at the pretty pink box in your hands and giggle to yourself. His friends are cute, you think. “I mean, they could’ve eaten the girl part.”
Sunghoon nods his head, grinning. “At least the sentiment still stands.” He eats a raspberry before looking up at you expectantly. “So, will you be my girl?”
With a smile spread on your face, you nod. “Yes, Hoon, I’ll be your girl,” you say, hoping he knows you’ve always been his girl. 
You cuddle in the grass with your boyfriend until the sun goes down, giddy from cider and the joys of summer romance when he walks you to your door. The two of you stand under the light at the doorstep, grinning competitively at one another. Reluctantly, Sunghoon bids you goodnight with a kiss and — just like after your first date — he stands there beaming brightly long after you’ve gone inside. 
A few nights later the two of you have your first sleepover as a couple and Sunghoon seems to take the idea in stride, showing up at your door with an overnight bag stuffed with his skincare, actual pyjamas, and snacks. Plus a bottle of wine he brought for his first meeting with your parents, despite having already had an awkward meeting with your mum at 3 a.m. in the hallway two weeks ago.
With his face glowing under the lamp on your desk, Sunghoon makes a show of bringing up the time he’d talked at length about his friends and says he thinks it only fair that you talk about yours. Your college friends. A blush coats his cheeks when you tell him he doesn’t need an excuse or justification to ask you things he’s curious about. 
This results in him sitting cross-legged on the bed in front of you, asking you silly things like what kind of Youtube videos you like to watch (his ears burn red when you say Park Sunghoon skating compilations), and more serious — to him — things like what your first impression of him was (he covers his face when you say I thought you were the cutest boy I’d ever seen, and it upset me that you missed so much school). 
“Do you think we would’ve dated if I was in school more?” 
“We are dating.” 
“I mean back then.”
“When we were five?” 
Sunghoon nods. 
“Even if we did date back then, we’d have broken up by lunchtime.” 
His jaw drops. “But it’s us,” he says like it’s the simplest thing ever. It takes a while to console your pouting boyfriend but when he moves on he gets back to asking about your friends. 
“They’re like.. the only reason I don’t completely regret picking my major.” The words come out before you can help them. You rarely talk with Sunghoon, or anyone, about your major, never mentioning much more than what results you got or the classes you’re taking if someone asks. 
So it doesn’t surprise you that he sees this as an opportunity to ask you about it. “Why do you hate it so much?” 
“It just makes me unhappy.” You feel your lips sagging at the corners when you finish speaking. “And the thought of working in that field forever, or, at all, makes me feel physically sick.” 
“What are you gonna do after graduation?” 
A tightness occupies your chest. You think about your brother, on the other end of the country, favouring texts over calls so no one has to hear the sadness in his voice when asked about work. You think about the future, all the unknowns awaiting you once you leave the familiarity of the education system. “I don’t.. I don’t know.” You hate how small your voice sounds when you say it.
You don’t even realise that you’re crying until Sunghoon mumbles hey, no, baby, it’s okay, and cups your cheeks with his hands, using his thumbs to wipe your tears. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I’m on your side, okay? You know that. I’m not trying to upset you, baby, just trying to understand. To help.” Wrapping his arms around you, he pulls you into him, letting you cry into his shirt. “If I’m going about it the wrong way you can tell me, I never want to make you cry.” 
For a while the two of you sit in silence while Sunghoon rubs your back and kisses the top of your head, only speaking when you’ve stopped sniffling. “How about you finish telling me about the girls? Minjeong, Jimin, Aeri, and Yizhuo, right?”
You don’t even remember telling him their names, besides maybe mentioning missing Minjeong. “You remember their names.” It’s not a question, not really. When you pull away from him, looking up, your heart snags in your chest at the sight. Of lovely Sunghoon and his small smile, the Kuromi headband holding his hair back. You want to cry again. 
“I remember everything you tell me.” 
Everything about him is lovely, from his soft cheeks to the Piplup pyjama pants he’s wearing and the way he’s looking at you with literal heart eyes. 
Knowing that Sunghoon has his last competition coming up, you savour every second with him. Barely sleeping that night trying to prepare for the lonely nights to come, memorising the feeling of his arms and the steady beat of his heart against your ear. 
His training schedule is rigorous and he’s had to stop his shifts at the pool to accommodate it, committing his days to skating and his nights to you when he can. Though he’s always so tired by the time he gets to your house that he can only sleepily sit through dinner with your parents and falls asleep almost as soon as his head hits the pillow. 
Like most nights you spend apart, Sunghoon’s face fills your screen, talking about what he did that day that kept him from you. Today’s activity was back-to-back coaching sessions, then going to the movies with the boys, and, now, tired out from pretending to be patient, his eyelids are shut for most of the conversation. He looks so warm and cosy under his duvet that you wish you were there with him, or that he was here with you.
“I can come over if you want me to,” he says, and from the way he sits up, you can tell he means it. 
You hadn’t meant for those thoughts to be verbalised.
Looking to your left, at the space in your bed, you don’t trust yourself to be alone with him. Not here. You do want to see him though. Almost desperately. For the good of you both, you shake your head. “Let’s go for a drive?” 
Sunghoon smiles and your stomach turns. “Give me 25 minutes.” He cuts the phone. 
Sitting in the darkness of his car is way worse than having him in your bed. Having started on your knee, his big hand now rests on your thigh, barely an inch away from where your shorts start. A cold sweat breaks out on your skin. Leaning your head against the window, you let your eyes fall shut while Sunghoon sings SZA quietly. Eventually, the car comes to a stop.
“We’re here.” 
It’s too dark out to see anything properly until Sunghoon opens your door for you. “The park,” you say, looking around at the now familiar street. “Wouldn’t be my first choice for a murder.”  
“If you think about it, it’s sorta perfect. Who would hear you screaming for help at 2 a.m. on a Wednesday?”
Sunghoon pulls his backpack and a fleecy blanket from the backseat, and, with a ridiculous grin, you watch him put the blanket down in the grass, not too far from where he’d parked the car. You leave your sandals to the side and sit down next to him. 
“The store was closed, so we’ll have to deal,” he explains, taking out some fruit and two bottles of water. 
You shake your head. “It’s perfect.” 
Sunghoon lets you feed him strawberries, humming appreciatively around your fingers. You take a few sips of water before shifting on the blanket, turning around in the space between Sunghoon’s open legs and leaning back on his chest. He hums the same SZA song from his car and you can’t help but close your eyes. 
You tip your chin to kiss him, accidentally letting your hand rest on his lap. 
Ever since that day in his room, things between you have found a way to turn sexual after a while. Not that either of you seems to mind. Though you will admit that sometimes it is nice to just sit with Sunghoon and watch the sun come up over the hills by his house. Or to watch Mighty Ducks on your laptop with your head on his shoulder. 
Tonight doesn’t seem like one of those “sometimes”, but you really can’t find it in you to complain or want to change anything when he slips his hand down the front of your shorts. More focused on the way your lips feel on his, Sunghoon lazily runs his finger through your slick for a beat before pushing into you and smiling to himself as you gasp against the kiss. 
You pull away from him, shifting around a little, trying to angle yourself so you can see what you’re doing when you tug his waistband out of the way. The sight of Sunghoon’s cock, of his pretty tip coated in precum that dribbles from his slit down his shaft never gets old. If anything, it only turns you on more and more each time. You stroke him slowly, occasionally letting a finger tease the spot below his head, just the way he likes it.
“Oh, my G—” Sunghoon cuts himself off with a groan, pressing his lips to yours again.
The breeze tickles your arms, keeping you cool despite the way your skin burns under his touch. He’s close to cumming, you can tell in the way his cock twitches in your hold.
“I want you,” he mumbles against your lips. 
“You have me.” Sunghoon lifts his head away from yours after you speak, looking down his nose at you. It seems like he’s searching your face for something as he pushes a third finger into your hole. Something clicks in your head, understanding. “Fuck me,” you say, barely short of begging.
His hips buck up into your still hand. “I don’t have a condom.” 
“You’re joking.” 
“No,” he sighs, shaking his head solemnly. “I wish.” A frown teases at your lips. “Why didn’t you bring one?”
You arch a brow. “Why would I bring a condom when we’re waiting to have sex?” 
“Because I don’t wanna wait anymore.” 
“Ok,” you nod, trying to think as he separates his fingers. “Well, this is.. this is me finding that out, right now.”
Sunghoon’s never put a fourth finger in you before; it’s a tight fit. Your head falls back and you give up your poor attempt at continuing to jerk him off. “I don’t care if you don’t. About condoms.” 
“Oh, you’re on the pill?” 
“I ran out two weeks ago, I thought.. you’d give me—” A moan cuts you off. Sunghoon chuckles. “I thought you’d give me notice or something.” 
“Notice?” he asks, voice high, incredulous. A beat passes. “I don’t care,” he says eventually. “I need you.” 
You nod your head, relieved. Whining a little when Sunghoon pulls his hand out of you, and whining a lot when he sucks on each of his fingers, one at a time. “I’ll get Plan B in the morning,” you say, scrambling to your knees, facing him. 
“We’ll go together.” A soft smile spreads across his lips as he holds you by the waist. “And I’ll ask Jake to pray for us.”
Hungrily, you watch as he pulls his white t-shirt over his head. There’s a flash of something in his eyes. Sunghoon has a firm grip on your shorts, barely a second away from yanking them off when he stops, leaning away. “I’ve never..” he trails off, struggling to hold eye contact. “I’ve had sex just not.. outside,” he whispers, his lips pouting through his words.
Despite your desperation, you can’t help but feel like maybe this shouldn’t be the moment you two have sex for the first time. You almost can’t believe yourself, having Sunghoon here, hot, sweaty, with his kiss-plumped lips, and lidded eyes; his groans, and his sighs; his wandering hands and hard cock pressed against you, yet thinking that maybe you should wait a little longer. 
“We don’t have to do this now.” 
“I do.”
“Okay,” you whisper, relieved, pressing your lips onto his. You shiver in Sunghoon’s hold, cold and chasing his kiss when he pulls away, shuddering at the feeling of his fingertip grazing your collarbone. 
“You’re cold, baby.” 
You shake your head. “I’m not.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, your body betrays you and your teeth chatter. 
Sunghoon frowns at you, playing with some of your hair beside your ear. “You have goosebumps, and your teeth are clattering. I’ll take you home, come on,” he says, letting go of you. 
“I have goosebumps because I’m horny, and I want you to fuck me,” you admit, feeling your need for him in every part of your body. “And I don’t want you to be nice about it either, I’m already your girlfriend.” 
You watch him gulp. Sunghoon’s eyes scan your face. He leans into your touch when you let your palm cup his cheek, his skin is burning hot, if it was any lighter outside you might have been able to see the pink on his face. He wraps his thick fingers around your wrist, letting his thumb stroke the back of your hand, and his pretty eyes find yours. 
“I want to, so bad, but you’re freezing.” He kisses your palm. “How about I take you home and fuck you there, hmm? I won’t be nice, I promise.” 
Oh, God, you think, clenching around nothing. 
Dazed, you almost agree until something clicks. “Take this off,” you say, practically begging as you tug at his knitted hoodie. His brows knit together. “Let me wear it.” Without hesitation, Sunghoon pulls the jumper over his head and slips it over you. “Please, Hoon,” you all but beg, as you put your arms through it. 
The two of you are close enough that you can see his pupils dilating as his eyes trail over your body. “I like my clothes on you.” Is the only thing he says before kissing you again.
Sunghoon’s hands are all over you, eventually settling on the top of your shorts, as he does his best to tug them off. You raise your hips to help him out before settling back into his lap, whining at the feeling of him under you, touching your pussy for the first time. He throbs against you when you grind down on him.
It all seems so real now. He’s so big; so hard, that you start to worry. Suddenly you remember the ache in your jaw every time you suck him off and how much of him is left over, even when his head inches its way down your throat.
Flustered, you start to stall a little, rocking back and forth on his length, coating him in your wetness. You take him in your hand after a while, jerking him a little to spread his precum and your slick all over him. He doesn’t seem to notice that you’re whiling up time, and if he does, then he doesn’t seem to care, simply moaning when you lift yourself off of him to stroke your clit with his tip and tease your slit. 
Sunghoon’s teeth worry his bottom lip as you try to take him, his head falling forward, eyes trained on the spot between your bodies where you connect. His hold on your waist is so firm you can practically feel bruises forming under his fingertips and the sting of his cock pushing into you makes you draw a breath. “Just take your time, yeah?” he mumbles. “No rush.” 
No rush? you think, he must be crazy. You don’t think you can wait any longer, trying hard to sink down on him despite the pain of the stretch. You like it, that sting, the heat, you don’t want to go without it ever again. You must be crazy. Fuck, and Sunghoon are the only things you can bring yourself to say.
“I know, baby. I’m sorry,” he tells you. “It’s okay,” he says, though he doesn’t look like he’s doing any better than you are. 
Sunghoon’s head falls forward once you’ve taken all of him, his teeth sinking into the skin at the base of your neck as he lets out a broken whine. Everything feels a little too much to bear. It’s so hot, when did it get so hot? With the last few crumbs of your brain power, you tell yourself to take the hoodie off, but you feel like you can’t move. 
He fits so well, fills you up just right. 
With a shaky breath, he lifts his head to look up at you. “So beautiful.” Sunghoon pushes some of your hair from your face. “Good girl,” he coos, using his thumb to wipe tears you hadn’t even realised were there. “You’re doing such a good job, baby. Taking me so good.”
Sunghoon asks if you’re okay. It sounds like Sunghoon asks if you’re okay.
Your fist balls around the fabric of his cotton shirt. “Warm,” you whisper. “Too warm.” He loosens his grip around your waist, moving his hands to your hips to pull the hoodie off of you. You lean back a little to let him take it off and feel as if you’re being split open, the angle only pushing him deeper. 
With the hoodie off, the cool summer breeze makes you feel a lot better; makes taking him a lot more manageable. So you move. His pretty face scrunches with pleasure, as a long, heady groan comes from his throat. “You feel so good. So tight.” There’s something in his voice that you don’t recognise, desperation, need. Sweat beads along his hairline, the flush in his cheeks so prominent you can see it despite the dark. 
You want to see him like this all the time. Need to.
His hips buck up towards you, seeming to catch you both off guard if the way you gasp simultaneously is anything to go by. He wraps his arm around your waist, his trembling hand beating against your skin, and lets his other hand rest on the blanket behind him, leaning back on it. 
“You’re so good at this,” you sigh. “How are you so good at this?” You practically clamp your mouth shut, not letting yourself say any more lest you propose to him, or worse, expose your breeding kink.
Sunghoon only gives you a languid smile before kissing you. 
It’s more than a little hard to focus on coordinating the movement of your lips and tongue when he’s fucking you the way he is; lifting you off of him so only his tip stays inside, then thrusting all the way back in, deep and slow, trying to feel every single part of you and doing a good job hitting that spot that has you seeing stars. So the kiss is messy and loud, an exchange of spit and moans but you’re way too turned on to care. 
Before long, he uses his hand to pull down the front of your vest, attaching his wet mouth to your nipple instead and your brain short circuits. He moans into your skin when you clench around him, his body stuttering under you.
“Baby, I don’t..” Sunghoon sighs, lifting his head from your chest to look at you. He’s the picture of desire, of lust, with his messy hair and parted lips, the sweat slipping from his brow bone. “I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer,” he admits, thick brows pulled into a furrow.
At this rate, you don’t think you will either. His words only make you dizzy, they spur you on as desperation sets in; to see him cum, to feel it. Like always, his sounds are just as pretty as the rest of him, his grunts and his groans, and the ragged breaths that catch in his throat. And you quiver in his lap at the feeling of a knot forming in your stomach, immediately unravelling when his finger catches your clit again. 
Your head falls back. “I’m—” Is the only thing you can say.
“I know, baby, don’t hold back. I wanna see you make a mess.” 
His words send you over the edge, forcing your orgasm out of you while Sunghoon moans and fucks you through it. So good, baby, he mumbles over and over, stuttering through the words when you cum, though you barely hear him over the sound of his cock squelching up into you. 
A shaky breath and the word fuck tumbles from his lips. 
Sunghoon’s thighs tense and his stomach does the same. Shuddering under you, he cums hard, filling you up completely. You’ve never had a guy cum inside before, let alone been fucked without a condom, so you weren’t sure what to expect. But nothing could have prepared you for this. 
Heat courses through you everywhere, and you’ve never been so warm in your life. You can feel every last drop of his hot cum spilling into you, can feel it leaking out around him, slicking up your thighs. Shaking in Sunghoon’s lap, you’re full in the best way, eyes rolling back as your mind goes completely blank. 
Both of you try to catch your breath as he holds onto you tightly, his arms hugging around your waist. You’re having a hard time calming down with him still inside, but you don’t think you could move if you tried, and it seems as though he feels the same, only being able to bring his head away from your chest. With heaving shoulders and a dazed look in his eyes, he smiles up at you, sweet, contagious. Drunk on him, a laugh starts to bubble in your throat, forcing its way out. Sunghoon laughs too, and breathy chuckles slip from you both, happy, delighted. 
He reaches for some napkins, cleaning up what he can with you still in his lap before reaching for his hoodie. You watch as he folds it up a couple of times before putting it down near the blanket’s edge, shifting over a bit to hold you in his arms and lay you down, the hoodie under your head like a pillow. 
You think he must be an angel. 
Gently, he separates your legs to clean you up properly before pulling his boxers and shorts back up. You watch as he looks around the space for something, returning to your feet to help you put your underwear and shorts back on, sniffling a little and making his way to lie down on the grass beside you. Sunghoon reaches over your body and uses the remaining blanket behind you to cover you up. 
Sleepily, you rest your head on his chest, feeling his heart race against your cheek. “You’re so big, Hoon,” you whisper, mind still reeling. 
A beat passes. “Ok, baby, thank you,” he says a little awkwardly, you can feel his chest stutter as he chuckles and you can’t help but smile.
The stars above you beam brightly and you don’t think you’ve ever seen so many at once, peeking through the few dark clouds that drag lazily through the sky.
“You did so well tonight, YN,” Sunghoon tells you after a while. “You always do so well.” Your heart beats in your throat as he kisses the top of your head.
“Really?” 
“Mm,” he hums.
Curious, you look up at him. “What did I do well?” 
“Should I fill out a performance review?” 
“I just wanna know what you’re gonna tell your friends later.” Your heart rate picks up when Sunghoon laughs, sweet, contagious. “I’m serious.”
Into the air above, he huffs a long, dramatic sigh. “You really wanna know?”
“Desperately.”
He leans up on his elbow, looking down at you. Butterflies flutter in your stomach, already nervous about what Sunghoon might say. It’s as if he’s the only person in the world, the only one that makes a difference. You can’t help but feel special under his gaze, grateful that you’re the one who gets his attention. His hand is big on the side of your face, his thumb grazes your cheek. 
Sunghoon opens his mouth but closes it before speaking, then brilliant, bright, he smiles. “I think I’m gonna tell them I’m in love with you.” Your breath hitches in your throat. “And, ask Jake to pray for us.” 
And, ask Jake to pray for us, you repeat as if bound by a spell and he nods his head. Overwhelmed, you hide your face in his shirt. “I love you.” 
Back at your place, Sunghoon does a good job of living up to what he’d promised you earlier. Leaving you to wake up that morning in his t-shirt, with your head on his chest and a dull ache between your thighs — though not before, for the first time since primary school, you (and Sunghoon) kneeled by the side of the bed to perform the sign of the cross. He’d stumbled his way through a prayer first and you followed, watching as he sent a text to Jake before eventually drifting off to sleep, tired and sore.
The duvet is bunched at the bottom of the bed, leaving your bare thighs victim to the light breeze rolling through your room. Sunghoon’s mouth is slightly ajar and he snores sweetly. Even in his sleep, his stomach is tight and his soft penis rests cute and limp against his thigh in a way that leaves you stifling a giggle. You want to kiss it. 
Regrettably, you don’t.
“Stop looking at me,” he mumbles, half-heartedly lifting his arm to cover your eyes, though, with his still shut, it ends up resting on your neck.
“I’m not.” 
Sunghoon pries open one of his eyes, catching you. He follows your gaze down his body, groaning when he realises what you’re looking at. “You’re worse than I thought,” he says, sitting up to pull your duvet back over himself, resting over his waist. “I’m never sleeping naked next to you again.” 
You open your mouth to quiz him but he covers your lips with his hand. “Or anyone else, relax.” 
“Good boy,” you mumble, the words muffled against his palm. 
“Ew,” he whispers when you lick his hand, wiping it on your t-shirt before pushing some of your hair away from your face. “How are you feeling, baby?” His voice is soft when he asks, eyes scanning your face for even the slightest sign of discomfort.
“I’m kinda sore, but I’m good.” 
“You are?” There’s pride in his voice when he asks, eyes lighting up for a beat before pressing his lips together, trying to hide a smile. His broad shoulders betray him, trembling with silent laughter. Fuck off, you mumble, just as amused as him. 
Sunghoon clears his throat. “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers. “I’ll be gentle next time, promise.” 
Next time. The simple words and all of their hopefulness leave your mind reeling. Laying next to Sunghoon, you grin at the thought of all of your next times with him. Through the seasons of the year; through autumn; through winter, spring, and back to summer again. 
“What’s on your mind?” he asks through a yawn. 
You love him. “I love you.” 
You’re expecting him to kiss you when he starts to lean in, but he pulls you tight against his chest instead. He smells faintly like sweat when he hugs you. Like sweat, and sunblock, and peonies. Like kisses during sunset, and late-night swims. Like the happiest you’ve been in a long, long while. 
“I love you, more.”
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© zreamy (2023), all rights reserved. do not repost, translate, or plagiarise my work. do let my know your thoughts !
permanent taglist: @asahicore
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eupheme · 4 months
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JOEL MILLER - 2023 FIC RECS
this year has been filled with so many beautiful fics, I wanted to make a rec list to share & support everything I read. please check these out and support these creators, they are all incredible! 💖✨
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— A Lover's Pinch by @hier--soir
a one-night stand with a charming texan turns into something much more thrilling when you discover he is your new college professor. joel miller is entirely off limits. but now that you’ve had a taste, will you be able to keep your hands to yourselves?
— A Matter of Timing by @lavenderursa
Before the world went to shit you and your neighbor, Joel, were involved. It was complicated then and now at the end of the world, it's much the same.
— A Minute From Home by @agentmarcuspike
— A Sheep in Wolf’s Clothing by @jupiter-soups
joel miller is not quite as scary as the people of jackson believe him to be. at least, not around you.
— A Very Furby Christmas by @/proxima-writes
it’s christmas eve 1998 and joel miller thinks everything is perfect. / well, until his brother admits he didn’t get sarah the one present she wanted - the furby. now, joel has to go out on christmas eve to find the year’s hottest toy that’s been sold out for months / turns out, you’re on the same mission. and you’ve both found the last furby in town.
— Asking Nicely by @grippingbeskar
— Autumn Air by @swiftispunk
it’s been a month since you returned home from costa rica and you and joel have fallen into a blissful routine. when a rude awakening threatens to disrupt that peace, together you must make a decision…or two.
— Barbie Girl by @tightjeansjavi
Joel, Sarah and Tommy go to the Barbie movie opening weekend
— Be Good, Be Quiet by @/undercoverpena
bill tells you both you're sleeping in separate rooms when a thunderstorm doesn't allow you to leave. but joel isn't planning on getting any sleep.
— Blue Jeans N'Texas Dreams by @/tightjeansjavi
Joel Miller, single father; total soft dad has an astronomically enormous crush on you, his daughters horseback riding instructor.
— Boston Holiday. by @/amywritesthings
You’re decorating for the holidays in your Boston Quarantine Zone apartment. A begrudging Joel Miller gets involved.
— Bunny Tails by @sweetercalypso
When hunter!Joel finds reader picking flowers outside his cabin, he convinces her to come inside
— But He Does Have You by @undercoverpena
because he hasn’t got a lot of anything, but he does have you.
—Butterfly by @stargirlfics
Sometimes the path to healing starts with a reminder of what’s been lost
— Can’t Help Myself by @fettuccin-e
— Catching by @softlyspector
None of your partners had ever been able to make you come before. Joel changed that.
— Comfortably Close by @omgreally
You and Joel share a couch.
— Come Clean by @cupofjoel
joel comes home after a messy day on patrol, but you’re already in the shower
— Comfort Came Against My Will by @/undercoverpena
it’ll begin with a little beg, a whispered plea—fingers wrapping around his chin, mouth ghosting over his: Let me ride you, Miller.
— Creature Comforts by @galactic-basic
A gift. Joel didn’t call it that. Didn’t say as much. Didn’t say anything—actually. / But it’s yours. Your mattress. Your bed. There are so few things you can call yours these days.
— Crystal by @ezrasbirdie
Joel's live-in girlfriend is a little witchy. It takes some getting used to.
— Dinner & Diatribes by @tightjeansjavi
you’re the kind of love that Joel Miller has been dreaming of all his life
— Dinner Date by @juletheghoul
 neighbour!Joel au
— Distracted by @/psychedelic-ink
there are many advantages to enrolling in a woodshop class: drawing you away from not-so-happy thoughts, relearning something that you enjoyed doing when you were a kid, and, well, the sight of watching mr. miller do something he’s undeniably good at.
— Does Your Mother Know? by @/cupofjoel
— Flesh and Metal by @/swiftispunk
you meet joel at a bar. he really likes your nipple piercings. that’s about it.
— From Eden, Love Grows by @moonlight-prose
Days spent in flower fields and cooking in a sunbathed kitchen with him.
— Grays by @/softlyspector
Joel likes to be read to and held and have his hair stroked. He would never dare admit it, though.
— Go Slow by @/frannyzooey
In the quiet of your bedroom, Joel guides you through it. 
— Honeyed by @/softlyspector
You hate being touched, but you might be willing to put aside your discomfort for a tattoo from Joel.
— Honeymoon by @bits-and-babs
— Hurt by @/moonlight-prose
alone and trying to survive, you find your path crossing with a man who’s headed to boston of all places. he claims he’s looking for a new start, not realizing you might be it.
— I Crawl Home To Her by @/agentmarcuspike
after being stabbed, joel floats in and out of consciousness, between then and now, before and after, and his two daughters, both saving him in their own ways.
— I Know My Faults, But I Can't Hide Them… by @tarrenterror25
It’s all about surviving now. Joel knows it and so do you.
— I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus by @/thetriumphantpanda
Your daughter catches you kissing santa… or does she?
— Juniper by @/softlyspector
You're sleepy. Joel knows a good way to put you to sleep.
— Ktober 2023 Day 24- Lingerie by @flightlessangelwings
— Keep It On The Low by @/cupofjoel
just because you and joel broke up doesn’t mean you can’t still (secretly) enjoy each other’s company
— Let Me Take Care Of You by @spaceydragons
Joel had a rough day, you take care of him
— Living in a State of Dreaming by @/cupofjoel
it’s been a year since you, joel, and ellie returned to jackson, and you’re finally starting to feel a sense of security. but when the sun goes down and joel closes his eyes, the horrors beyond the walls still hunt him, out to take back the family he’s worked so hard to protect.
— Made By Hand by @tinycozycomfort
He has nothing to offer, after all; no love letter, no borrowed jacket, no wedding ring. This is all he has to show his devotion, to seal his promise—a fist full of glossy blue and the willingness to unfurl his body and scoop out his insides just to allow you a place to lay. All he can give you is himself.
— Met The Devil Last Night by @pedgito
made a joke about wanting to screw dirt-covered Joel even if he was deep in the trenches of hell and…well, yeah.
— Middle of the Night by @/frannyzooey
He comes to you for comfort.
— Midnights by @/omgreally
Joel pulls back, and the blown-pupil intensity in his eyes makes you clench. “That a challenge?” he wonders, fingering the waistband of your jeans. / “You got any better ideas on how to ring in the new year, Joel Miller?”
— Mine by @the-scandalorian
He wants it—has wanted it.  / He wants the claim. The utter possession.
— Misbehavior by @/stargirlfics
 It’s the first and last time you ever talk back to his face
— Moments by @charnelhouse
Joel and you in a hotel phone booth.
— More and More by @/moonlight-prose
“he wanted to know every part of you, everything you kept hidden for fear of it being rejected. and you let him.”
— Moss & Mushrooms by @/softlyspector
You are alone, always. Then, one day, a beast emerges from the forest you've never dared to go into.
— My Girl Now by @/psychedelic-ink
joel is used to asshole clients, and when one of them calls him an old man and basically demands him to finish his girlfriend’s kitchen in time, he expects you to be the same. But you’re the opposite. when he learns how you’ve been treated, he comes up with a plan to get back at your boyfriend.
— Old Partners, New Plans by @grippingbeskar
— One Bed by @frannyzooey
“there is only one bed” + joel miller
— Only Need Ten by @pascalpvnk
“Joel,” your whine muffled by your pillow. “I have to leave in fifteen minutes, I can’t be late for patrol again. We have to be back in time for Sunday brunch.” / “Only need ten, baby,” he drawled in a hushed tone, hooking his thick fingers beneath the waistband of your panties. “Please?”
— Picture by @/softlyspector
You really want to take Joel's picture. He can't really figure out why.
— Pieces of You by @pedros-mustache
Maybe it’s wrong. Maybe it’s possessive and a tad bit jealous. Maybe after years working alongside Tess, you’ve simply learned to lay your claim on what is yours. 
— Press the Gas and Ride by @charnelhouse
comfort in a car
— Roadside Delight by @/inklore
joel should have known you’d be trouble when he found you on the side of the highway. he should have known you’d taste so fucking sweet too.
— See You by @hopeamarsu
— Seeing You, Seeing Me by @amywritesthings
After handling a life-or-death favor for Tess, you're in deep shit. Until she can make things right, she suggests you lay low at her place for the week. The issue? It's also Joel Miller's place, and you're pretty sure he hates you.
— Silence by @/frannyzooey
 Joel makes a silent promise.
— So, My Darlin' by @/psychedelic-ink
you convince joel to have a bubble bath with you.
— Sober by @/sweetercalypso
When Joel needs a break from reality, he finds the perfect distraction in a QZ dive bar
— Something Bad by @/fettuccin-e
— Something Wild and Unruly by @/ezrasbrdie
At Madame Aurelie's Secret Garden, men pay for beautiful courtesans trained in pleasure to give them whatever they want. And all Joel Miller, infamous outlaw and gunslinger, ever seems to want from you is a warm bath and quiet conversation.
— Standing in the Eye of the Storm by @/stargirlfics
You find each other at the end of the world
— Stay In Bed by @/psychedelic-ink
After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.
— Sweet Thing by @mandoisapunk
 the most unlikely pair in jackson just can’t get enough of each other.
— Sweet Words of Sin by @/moonlight-prose
“there was a certain high that came from this. having a man like joel miller relenting to your every word, all to hear those sweet words fall from your lips. as delicious as a glass of wine and just as sinful.”
— Sweetned Breath and Tongue So Mean by @/moonlight-prose
“joel couldn’t fathom what you saw in him. a man bloodied with the ravages of life. he’d taken life, killed to survive, and there were times he even fucking enjoyed it. but you were soft. you were the good that remained. the light he shouldn’t be allowed to tarnish.”
— Take Care of You by @theidiotwhowritesthings
You spent your entire adult life supporting yourself and barely getting by. It’s why a life of ease offered to you by a mysterious stranger sounded so foreign and unbelievable. Joel Miller, dressed in flannels that had seen better days, didn’t look like the kind who could promise you the world on a plate, but he seemed desperate to help out. All he asks is that you let him take care of you. That wouldn’t be so hard. Would it?
— Take Your Medicine by @/hier--soir
your medication makes it difficult to orgasm so joel (and your vibrator) help make it happen.
— Tarnished But So Grand by @morning-star-joy
tommy and maria lead a jovial existence in the countryside, but the appearance of tommy’s brother causes a stir in society with the dark rumors swirling around his reputation, some due to his standoffish demeanor and some due to the mysterious parentage of his rambunctious young ward miss williams
— The Checklist by @thetriumphantpanda
Your new boyfriend Joel finds your hidden stash of porn, full of pages with their corners folded over, marking the things you like the most. Expecting him to feel bad about finding things you’re into, things you haven’t asked for from him, you’re surprised when he offers to help you tick them off.
— The Dog of War by @/bits-and-babs
When Ellie is taken by David, Joel breaks open the part of him locked away since his hunter days. As the guilt eats him alive, you try to help him subdue the black dogs of mental warfare.
— The Revenant Wife by @pettyprocrastination
Ellie knows very little of Joel and even less of the wife he had before the outbreak. When she finally meets you, its just as much as shock to her as it is to your husband. 
— The Way We Fight by @/cupofjoel
you and joel love taking your frustrations out on each other—in more ways than one
— Toyin’ With Them Older Guys by @proxima-writes
Joel Miller is the grumpy bartender and owner of your favorite bar near campus, where you attend trivia every Tuesday night. Thinking there’s no way Joel could return your feelings, your friend suggests trying out Tinder. / But when you bring them to the bar for a date, they keep leaving mid date with no explanation. / Maybe there’s something Joel isn’t telling you after all.
— Trust Fall by @/tinycozycomforts
This, that was a shy thing at first, set into motion by some passing remark you’d made all those months ago—that he would do anything for you if you just asked nice enough.
— Two by @/the-scandalorian
— Watch Party by @/sweetercalypso
renting a Halloween movie turns into a nightmare when poltergeist!Joel Miller crawls out of your TV
— Way Too Damn Needy by @/cupofjoel
— What I Want by @/proxima-writes
joel comes home from a rough day of patrol and you know just what he needs.
— When You're Reading Me by @/psychedelic-ink
If you had to make a list of things Joel Miller might buy you as a gift— nipple clamps, would not be a part of it. 
— Wicked Games by @inklore
relationships are built on trust. favors, kindness, and hands meant to help, not maim. there’s no room for dishonesty, games, or ploys. that’s not the storybook way of things or how life should be. but maybe those rules only mattered when you weren’t living in a world that’s gone to shit |  joel miller x smuggler!reader
— Wish You Were Here by @macfrog
you and joel skip jackson’s annual holiday party in favor of some alone time. (not that kind you filthy animals it’s the HOLIDAYS)
— Woods by @/frannyzooey
— You Know I Don’t Mean It by @joelscruff
you and joel get off together. that’s pretty much it. you also have some unresolved feelings for him and he’s being closed off.
— You Take My Self Control by @/cupofjoel
your first act of brutality leaves you reeling, but you’d do it all over again if it meant saving joel’s life. in the aftermath, you realize you’ve started to crave that violence and it terrifies you. joel steps in to satisfy your craving.
— Your Summer Dream by @/swiftispunk
fresh on the heels of the worst breakup of your life, you find an unexpected kindred spirit in joel miller, who's agreed to tag along for seven days to a tropical resort with you and your parents.
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if you haven’t read these, you need to! and please support these amazing fics & writers by reading, reblogging & commenting! 💕
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mysticmunson · 2 years
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Late Bloomer
eddie munson x reader
prompt: eddie befriends a cheerleader who’s a bit of a ‘late bloomer’ part one, part two, part three
warnings: cussing, smut, virginity (minors go away)
word count: 4k
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Late Bloomer.
That’s what the other girls in your cheer squad said about your romantic life, “Oh don’t worry about it babe, it’ll happen eventually, you’re just a late bloomer.” It drove you insane that no matter how strongly you yearned for a boyfriend, it never happened. You found almost all the men in Hawkins gross, not in a mean way, but if they ever advanced on you, you shied away. You hated that you couldn’t just swallow your insecurity and pounce on one of the annoying football players, desperate for a fairytale where they married their high school sweetheart who was a cheerleader. What added to the sting is you were older than them, already 19 in senior year due to being held back a grade in elementary school for not grasping reading. This was a common fact as it seemed everyone knew everyone's business in this town, another reason to not want to sleep with the first guy available.
It all came to a tipping point at the annual cheer sleepover, held every year at the head cheerleaders house, the night before the first game of the season. It started innocently enough, all the things you’d imagine cheerleaders did during a night in. Facials, eating popcorn, painting nails, and then someone had to open their damn mouth. “So someone over here had a fling with Joeee.” Penelope sang, pointing her thumb at Rachel who began blushing profusely as the other girls gasped, including yourself. Joe was the ‘hottest’ guy in school, being athletic, kind, and rich, he was bound to get with someone from the squad, but not Rachel. She was beautiful, so it shouldn’t have been a shock, but what you did know was something slightly more selfish, she was the only other virgin on the varsity team.
“Get outta here! Did you go to his house?” Chrissy, the head cheerleader, whispered as Rachel nodded followed by not subtle shrieking. What really caused the blow up was when she pulled her oversized t-shirt up to her lower bust, exposing her stomach of hickies. “I told him not on my neck because of the game, so he got creative.” Rachel smiled, letting her shirt fall down as the girls pestered her about the details, making sure she used protection, and if it was official. You hated that this made you jealous, but you couldn’t help it, especially when a comment was made about how “It was about time you got laid! Took you long enough.” Penelope’s eyes flickered to you, indicating she was the one who let the sharp words tumble out, “Shit, I’m sorry, I totally forgot-” But you cut her off, “Hey! It’s okay, I’m a late bloomer, that’s all.” You wanted to punch yourself in the face. A gentle hand touched your thigh when the attention left you, glancing at Anne, the quietest girl in the room.
“I have to run an errand, wanna come?” She asked, standing to grab her varsity sweater as you followed, knowing you needed fresh air. Both of you slipped out with not much protest as they felt bad at unintentionally singling you out, which you knew the girls meant well and that they weren’t the vicious stereotype they were painted to be. You walked down the street in silence, making your way through a field as a shortcut. “Do you smoke?” Anne broke your daze, looking up at her face that only glanced briefly at yours before looking to where they were heading.
“Sometimes, more socially. Also where are we going?” You asked as you made your way into the forest behind your school, the breeze becoming more steady, reminding you that you only wore shorts and a sweater. With chills coming up your spine and before Anne could say where they were going, a voice boomed to your side.
“If it isn’t my favorite client.”
Eddie Munson sat on the edge of the wooden picnic table in the center of the woods, black pail in hand with a cigarette in the other. Anne waved, approaching him as you froze in place. You had nothing against Eddie, only having classes with him occasionally where you mainly kept to yourself. Being at a drug deal was pretty risque for a cheerleader, especially the night before the first game of the season, except you weren’t a snitch.
“I don’t bite, sweetheart.” He said, making you laugh as you approached them, finding a seat at the picnic table. Anne was already working on rolling a joint, shockingly good at it before sealing it. She placed it between her lips, fishing her lighter out of her shorts pocket and lighting it, smoke flooding out. “Damn Anne, you’ve done this before, huh?” You smiled as she laughed, even Eddie butted in, “Yeah, she's seen me more than once.”
The three of you passed around the dope, becoming more relaxed than you had felt in months. Eddie asked what you two were up to tonight, Anne, stoned out of her mind, had words that didn’t slow due to her sublime state, “Cheerleader sleepover, this one got embarrassed for being the only one to not do the devil's tango-” “Anne!” You shrieked, covering your face as she realized her words, “Oh my God, I didn’t mean to say that, ignore what you just heard, Munson.”
Eddie, always the charmer, looked around at the vast dark space of the woods, “What do you hear something?” He stated, tumbling to an upward position as he looked through the bushes, shuffling through the brown and green leaves. Giggles abrupt from your lips, feeling less embarrassed about the ordeal, taking the final hit of the shared joint and putting it out. He jumped around various plants before sauntering over to you both, sitting on the opposing bench, “Now that the coast is clear, how much are you buying, sweetheart?”
While the name wasn’t directed at you, the title made you blush with Anne casually stating how much she’d need to make it through another exam week. You watched as his ring clad fingers fumbled with the bud, looking at the various baggies with small weights written on them. You knew he played guitar, having heard his band play at a few bars in town and he was a talented guitarist. You could almost hear the song he covered playing in the background of your mind. Once the transaction was finished, he realized you two were walking back, “Do you guys want a ride back? It’s pretty dark? I can even drop you off down the street so they don’t see my van” You thanked him, following Anne into his car that smelled even stronger of hemp than the actual drug did. Anne began going off about how she didn’t want to go back to the sleepover since the other girls were probably in bed right now, “It’s so stupid that they do this every year and go to sleep by 10:30! I get not doing an all-nighter, we don't need anyone falling during the pyramid, but still! Can you just drop me off at home? I’ll just say I didn’t feel well.”
As her complaints persisted from the front seat, you noticed Eddie’s eyes occasionally flickering to yours in the mirror, thinking it was just in your head until he winked at you. You focused your attention on the landscape outside, realizing you were on Anne’s quiet street and that he had actually been listening to her thoroughly. She said a quick thank you, leaning to the backseat to do a mutual cheek kiss before walking down the dim lit road.
“Alright, so where to?” He asked, tapping his fingers mindlessly to the beat of the song quietly playing from the radio. “Thanks for the ride, I can walk from here.” But this just made him turn in his chair, eyebrow raised, “I mean, call me a gentleman, but I don’t feel great making a girl walk home by herself in the middle of the night. Hop in the front.” For some reason, you obeyed, exiting the back to the front, telling him your address that was a few miles away. You rode in awkward silence, which you didn’t think was possible for a man with his comedic timing. Your thoughts drifted to earlier that night when the girls found out about Rachel and Joe, the way they lit up at the juicy details. Your skin crawled at Chrissy’s sad eyes meeting yours, mouthing “It’s okay.” While said out of love, it made you feel smaller than before, like you weren’t reaching your full potential, which you knew deep down was bullshit.
“Eddie, what would you rate me from 1 to 10?” You asked abruptly as he jumped slightly at the sudden voice, but also the question. “I am not answering that, no fuckin’ way.” He said, eyes going wider than you thought possible as he gripped the steering wheel. You whined, crossing your arms as you shifted in your seat to face him.
“C’mon Eddie, please! I need a guy's input and from one that doesn’t annoy me everytime he speaks.” His laugh filled the van as he stopped on the backroad, surrounded by trees. You were high enough to release some inhibitions, but not high enough to not mean what you were saying. He faced towards you, resting his face on his fist, making a thinking sound, “What am I exactly rating you on, princess?”
“I don’t know! Anything? Do you like my smile? My personality? Hell, even my tits? Just something!” You gasped, a devious smile resting on his lips with his blush not going unnoticed, feeling a bit thrown off from your outburst. “Well I’ll just say to start off, all are great, some things more than others,” He winked as you rolled your eyes, “But I’m not rating you, though your desperation is cute.” You sighed at his words, cupping your face in your hands, palms digging to your eyes.
“I’m-Ugh I’m not desperate, I’m just over being a virgin! Why does everyone in this town suck!” You expressed, flailing your arms beside you, “I mean, some swallow, if that makes you feel better?” Which made you laugh, glancing over at him as he rubbed his hands on his jean clad thighs. “In all seriousness, if you want it, just go for it. Most of the guys suck, especially the ones who go out for football, but you’re pretty and smart and worthy of having a nice first time, okay? So I’m not rating you and if any guy says he will, punch them.” He concluded, staring in your eyes seriously, not knowing he practically soaked your panties from the amount of respect he had for you. He didn’t belittle your needs, didn’t try to convince you the guys didn’t suck and you just needed to open up more. No, he heard you, he actually listened and understood. You cupped your hands around his jaw, “Can I kiss you, please?” The words falling from your lips softer than intended, but Eddie could tell you were serious and he didn’t want to pull away either. He cupped your face and gently kissed your lips, allowing your hands to fall in your lap. His lips felt like pillows with his teeth capturing your bottom lip, a moan coming from you to grant him more access.
You thought Eddie was always cute and respectful, a bit of a freak in the best way, and you just couldn’t believe it was him who you’d feel comfortable enough with first. Most guys would’ve started hitting on you the moment you mentioned sex, but he didn’t, you even knew that this kiss wouldn’t have happened unless you had initiated it. Eddie was slowly taking control as his lips moved hasiter against yours, only pulling away in a sharp breath as he realized your location.
“You wanna come to my place?”
----
You had never been more grateful that your parents were out of town for the week as Eddie pulled into your driveway. The ride there wasn’t as tense as you thought, mainly just banter about miscellaneous topics, which helped keep your nerves at bay, and making sure he didn’t get lost.
You grabbed your keys and walked to the front door, Eddie hot on your tail after locking the van. You turned on a light or two, greeting your small black cat, Luna. She scurried away after the initial greeting as you walked Eddie into your kitchen, grabbing a water to soothe your burning throat from the weed and nerves. You offered him a drink, but he took his time observing the scenery, “We can go up to my room if you want?”
He followed you quietly, taking time to notice all the details of your messy room, before you sat on the bed, looking up at him. He glided over, cupping your face once more to kiss you deeply before pulling off his signature Hellfire shirt. You stared at his decorated skin, wanting to trace the ink engraved to his body as you laid down beneath him. He worked his way down your neck, finding a soft spot on your collarbone that made you moan, feeling him smile against the delicate skin. You were getting impatient, grabbing your sweater and slipping it off to reveal your plain bra, quickly flinging that away too. His eyes scanned your chest, tongue sticking out as he saw your nipples, scooping down to suck on them.
“Fuck Eddie.” You whimpered, feeling his hands trail down your naval, shivering at his cold rings. He stood up, yanking his pants down to expose his black boxers, his cock already alert. You swallowed harshly as he gripped the sides of your panties and shorts, “Hey. Look at me.” Your eyes flickered to his, containing an emotion you couldn’t make out just yet.
“I need you to be honest with me, okay? Do you want this?” You nodded, “If at any time you want to stop, tell me. Even if it's on the brink of no return, we’ll stop, it’s never too late to change your mind. I won’t be mad.” He said in a low whisper, your profuse nodding not being enough, you had to be vocal. “I want this, Eddie, there’s no one else I’d rather do this with.”
With that, he yanked your last articles of clothing off, spreading your legs to see your soaking center, “Fuck me.” He mumbled, kneeling on the floor to put his face in front of your most vulnerable area, squirming when he had yet to touch you. “Sh, all in good time, just want to look.” His finger brushed your lips, spreading to find your clit and kissing it, your other hand gripping your waist to hold you still. Your weepy hole was glistening in the shining moonlight, he wished he could hang it in a personal art museum. He was barely touching you and had you falling apart.
“You look so pretty like this, all spread out for me.” He breathed, working his other fingers inside of you, the sudden intrusion making you clench and grab the hand that held your hip. He laced his fingers in yours, still pressing it against where it had been previously for stability. His tongue flicked the bundle of nerves that ached to be attended to, his slender hands finding your g-spot within seconds. He quickened his pace as he realized you were reaching your climax, not wanting to tease you your first time finishing with company. He swapped his mouth and fingers, sucking on your hole to catch the sweet release that flowed out shortly after accompanied by your moans. He glanced up at your blissed face cumming and decided it was the 8th wonder of the world. He climbed on top of you, resting his weight on his arm with his other occupied with your laced fingers.
“That felt good, sweet girl?” Your eyes still clenched as you nodded, finally opening them to look at him. His chin was glistening with your release which could’ve made you come all over again in itself, but you crashed your lips into his, wasting no time to build intensity. He quickly took control of the tempo, grunting as you sunk deeper into the bed, legs wrapping around his clothed waist. You used your feet to push them off, making him pull away with a smile, “Someone’s resourceful!”
He sat up to reach for his pants, pulling out his wallet to grab the spare condom he kept for backup, despite not getting any in over a year. It was hard to keep his composure as he slid the latex over himself, stroking while biting his lip. He would’ve laughed if someone told him he’d be fucking a cheerleader by the end of the night, not only that, but one he always thought stood out. He always noticed you when he was forced to attend a rally or game, finding you exuded energy he couldn’t pinpoint. His eyes lingered on you when he walked down the hall or saw you outside of school, not even entertaining the thought of doing anything, but now that he was here. You laid in front of him, waiting for him to do anything to you to help soothe the need you had. He wishes he would’ve done it sooner.
“Alright, this can happen two ways tonight, princess. Do you want to be on top or on the bottom?” He gritted, containing his shaking voice, as your eyes stared in his. You shrugged, adjusting to close your legs as he stood, “Uh uh, words.” His command made you want to do whatever he wanted, whether it left you in bliss or tears. But you wanted to be a good partner, deciding starting on top might be more beneficial for him, though he was grateful for any position.
“I’ll go on top” Stuttering as you sat up, giving him room to lay beneath you, his upper half resting against pillows as he helped you get your shaking hips over his. His cock was pink and leaking, resting against his stomach in front of you, letting your finger trace the vein that guided all the way to the tip. He knew he wouldn’t last long, you were ruining him and you hadn’t even done anything yet.
“Spit.” He instructed, his ring clad hand that had just been deep in your pussy, shoved in front of your mouth as you followed his directions. He began stroking himself more as you lifted yourself, shuffling over where he ached. He glided his tip across your folds, letting his eyes flutter shut at the silk like feeling before getting stopped by your hole. He looked into your eyes as both your mouths fell open as you slowly fell down. A cry left your lips with your hands grabbing at his chest, making it half way before ceasing, tears falling down your cheeks.
“It’s okay, pretty girl, let it out.” He guided your chest against his, keeping eye contact that you kept attempting to break from shyness. He grabbed your hips, rocking you gently and hushing gently as you whimpered. “You’re doing so good, you’re taking me so well.” He cooed, making sure to be as gentle as possible, which didn’t go unnoticed. Your need surpassed your awareness, shoving yourself all the way with a shriek, feeling so full you began to shake.
“Hey! Hey, easy.” He scolded, lifting your hips towards the top, only keeping his tip in. He wiped the tears beneath your eyes, taking in your face that was a mix of pleasure and pain. “Are you okay?” You nodded, remembering what he said as you gumbled out an “I’m okay.” He nodded, sliding you off as you let out a pathetic noise that you wished never came out, but he didn’t flinch, just placing you on your back. His mouth found its way to your neck as he slid in again. He found your sensitive spot, sucking on it to distract from the unpleasant ache between your legs. He used his hands to push your knees up, taking a moment to raise upwards to look at you fall apart. "Fuck, you're so pretty."
You embraced the feeling of him thrusting inside you, mesmerized by the way the same veins you stroked moments ago were inside you, causing pleasure throughout your body. Eddie found himself pulling you down all the way and holding you there as you mewled. Fresh tears released from your eyes as you fondled your own breast, shaking. His eyes darkened, replacing your hands with his as he began to fondle your tits and picking up his pace. This didn’t last long before you pulled him against you, missing the weight of him and his lips on yours.
“Thank you. Thank you, Eddie, please. Oh my God.” You whimpered, continuing the mantra of gratitude as you found yourself nearing the end. He moaned so loud you were almost positive the neighbors heard, but you didn’t care. He never considered himself a man with a praise kink, but when a girl is not only begging for you, but thank you for fucking her? There’s only so much a man can take, especially when he felt you starving off your orgasm.
“Let it out, baby, come on. You feel so good, sweetheart, I’m right behind ya.” He growled, mouth pressed against the shell of your ear, nibbling. You weren’t strong enough to hold off any longer, falling apart in his arms as he finished in sync, thrusts shallowing out as he felt you constrict. The praises left your lips without hesitation, gripping onto his chest tightly with his arms returning just as tight. Your whimpers continued for a moment before a loud shaky breath, “I’m sorry for crying, that's so embarrassing.” You groaned, shifting beneath him as he pulled away from your neck, “Don’t you dare. That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” He stated, eyes boring into yours before pulling out and discarding his protection. He grabbed his boxers, pulling them on and grabbing his tee, handing it to you with raised eyebrows, making you blushed.
“Really, that’s what makes you flustered?” He teased, laying back down with your faces across from each other. Sitting in silence, you both studied each other, almost as if you looked long enough, you’d find out every emotion you just endured. He stroked your cheek affectionately, nudging into his broad palm, nipping at it playfully. As you came down from euphoria, your worries seeped through. What did this mean? Would this be a regular thing? Would he ever speak to you again? So many thoughts ruminated that it spread across your face, his eyebrows pinched with worry when you acknowledged your surroundings.
“Did you enjoy tonight?” You inquired as he made a shocked face before smiling, “Let’s just say that if you asked me to rate this, I’d break the fucking scale.” He chuckled, moving his hand to tickle your side, making you squeal and fling your body against him. “You’re such an asshole for that, Munson.” Silence filled the room as he held you against his chest, your bodies fitting like puzzle pieces beneath your sheets. “Can we do this again sometime?” Trailing off as you traced his various tattoos, hypnotized by his body and what it encapsulated. “Hell yeah, I’m always horny.” He joked, “But seriously, yes, we can do this whenever you want, princess.”
You didn’t expect yourself to have your first time with the guy you always admired from afar, but tonight you were engulfed in his arms, feeling safe and happy for once. As you jogged out on the field the next day, ignoring the soreness between your thighs, you spotted him in the stands where he never would have been previously. With a quick wink, he stood up and hollered as you couldn't contain your laughter. You could get used to this.
-----
hi! thank you for reading, eddie's my muse atm so please send in requests! feedback is always appreciated. have a great day!
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hawkinsbornarc · 2 years
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               BEAUTY  QUEEN  OF  ONLY  EIGHTEEN  |  carol  perkins
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urfavleo777 · 5 months
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warnings: age gap, tattoo artist! colby x reader, alcohol
"Angel's wings!" your best friend exclaims, speaking completely seriously. Your other friend approves, clapping her hands eagerly. "Get them tattooed!"
You almost choke on your drink when you hear how seriously Katrina gives you a new idea for your first tattoo. If someone told you that friendship between three people doesn't exist, you would laugh at them. The three of you are living proof that it's not the number of people in the group that matters, but the love that exists between you. Each of you is different, but that is the most beautiful thing. There is nothing worse than boredom and monotony in friendship.
"Come on, you'll be eighteen in an hour. Do something that will make you happy, not your parents." Sophia, usually the voice of reason, tries to convince you.
You don't know if it's the alcohol you just drank, but in a split second you undergo an internal transformation. You'll be of age in an hour. No one will be able to lecture you. Even your parents who, instead of spending this birthday time with their daughter, decided to go to the mountains. At first you reacted with sadness, but over time you were glad that the situation had turned out this way because you could invite your two favorite girls over for the night.
Katrina and Sophia look at you with impatient eyes, encouraging you to make a quick decision. You take a deep breath, tilting your head back. As pathetic as it sounds, you try your hardest to get advice from the ceiling.
You look back at your waiting friends. They send drunken glances your way, which only reinforces the fact that you must probably look like one of them at this point. Sophia and Katarina's eyes widen. Something unexpected is about to happen; something that will change the course of history forever.
Katarina clenches her fists like a true boxing legend, preparing for the worst possible scenario. With each subsequent inhalation, you feel even more excitement and arousal wash over you. You open your mouth to announce the official verdict.
"If not now, never, right?"
After saying these words, you're crushed under the bodies of these two freaks. And, you swear to yourself that if your parents had been home, after all those squeals of happiness, you would have ended up under a bridge.
"The best decision you've ever made, Y/n! I'm so proud," Sophia squeals excitedly, and Katrina joins in. You realize that you still hold the glass in your hand. You hiss, knowing that you'll definitely need to change the sheets of your bed after tonight. "Don't worry about it! Let's go to the tattoo artist!"
"Now?" you keep mumbling under their bodies.
Katrina and Sophia step away from you, exchanging meaningful glances with each other. You are finally able to catch your breath, but you don't really understand what they're trying to tell you.
"Yes. Now." Sophia grins. "Katrina, are you thinking about the same person as me?"
The friend nods her head in response, also with a big grin on her face.
"Oh, yeah! The handsomest, hottest and most expensive tattoo artist in town," she starts counting and you wonder why you've never heard of him before. "Y/n, we guarantee you the best fucking fun."
"Let's fucking do this!" They both squeal, grabbing your hands and pulling you out of the bed.
***
"You guys didn't even give me a chance to change clothes!"
You are wearing a black body suit and really low rise jeans so people on the street can see a bit of skin, which makes you feel a little uncomfortable.
"You look great." Sophia assures you and Katrina nods to her. Well, they're wearing perfectly balanced sweaters compared to you. They decided to make you the main star without outshining you with clothes. You feel like standing out of the crowd, which you don't like very much.
"Do you think this tattoo artist will accept us without prior consultation?" you ask, genuinely curious. "Maybe we should call him? We'd better get back home..."
"Relax, Y/n," you turn into a street you've probably never been to. Katrina tries to convince you, but with each step you take, you become less and less sure. Even though your parents have well-paid jobs, they usually don't let you hang around the rich districts. They would be disappointed if they knew that while they were away their daughter was getting a tattoo, not really knowing where.
"You said he was an expensive tattoo artist. I don't think I want to spend money this way." You continue, feeling the alcohol drain from you. You regain consciousness and regret saying yes to your friends. "Maybe we should really turn back?"
"Y/n," you stop in front of a building emanating LED light. The girls move closer to you and one of them puts a hand on your shoulder. Sophia, the fucking voice of reason, says: 
"He is my brother's friend. They have been friends since childhood. He practiced on my brother, making the first patterns. He would never take money from me or my friends. We are always out of line. Trust me, you're in good hands."
"He was the one who gave me that big tattoo you liked so much," finishes Katrina.
You sigh, trying to convince yourself first and foremost. Sophia pulls out her phone and brings it closer to your face.
The first thing that catches your eye are the huge white numbers on the screen. What's more, they don't seem blurry at all. You must be really sober. You take a deep breath, recalling the quote of your favorite teacher in your head.
12:00. Carpe diem.
 "It's time to go fucking crazy, Y/n." 
***
"Sophia? What's for today?" It’s a male voice. Raspy, yet soft. The sound of it makes you whip your head over to your friends, but you're trying to stay calm. He lets out a heavy sigh before humming to himself in thought. Only after a while he notices that Sophia is not alone. "And who is this?"
"Hello, Colby. Meet Y/n, your new client." 
And the way he shakes your hand is firm but gentle, not as hard as you think it'd be given the size of his biceps probably are larger than your head. But then he softly grips your elbow and guides you into the chair with a hand on your back. "Don't worry, I don't bite."
"Well, I thought I would have to convince you.. longer."
You flush a little under his gaze because he's noticed how you're shaking like a leaf next to him. And the way he smiles indicates he might enjoy biting you anyways... and maybe you'd let him. 
"I was just about to close, but you know perfectly well that I will always make an exception for you, Sophia." Your friend smiles at his words.
"So, what are we doing tonight?" he focuses all his attention on you. You swallow, not really knowing what to answer. Katrina decides to save your ass from total embarrassment.
"Angel's wings." 
He looks like he's about to roll his eyes.
"Seriously, I can't count how many girls asked me for the exact same pattern. Try something more creative."
"I'd like to stick with the wings, please. In a place invisible to the eye."
"Getting a tattoo so you don't show it to anyone? How old are you anyway?"
"Eighteen." He doesn't look convinced. With one movement of your hand, you pull your ID from your back pocket. Colby, as you can guess, surprised by the concrete, grabs the ID in his hand and looks at it carefully.
"She's so young." When he talks about you in the third person, something happens to you. "Are you sure you want those fucking wings?"
"Come on, Colby. You did this to my brother many times." Sophia interjects. "Don't ruin her birthday."
"Ah, yes. Happy birthday or something." You can tell he’s in a good mood based on the playful amusement in his voice. 
"Thanks," you hang your head.
"We have to do something about her shyness." he turns to your friends.
"Maybe wings between her tits? I bet no girl has ever asked for this," suggests Katrina. You almost choke on your saliva. You want to get up from that chair and run out.
"That sounds perfect." His voice is sweet with a touch of flirtiness, and you swear you can hear the smile in it. "What do you think, Y/n?"
"There's no way I'm going to show you my tits." You take courage. Colby laughs loudly. He clearly takes pleasure in your attitude and shakes his head, leaning in to watch you.
"It's your choice." You bite at your lip instead of answering him. 
"Come on, Y/n. We won't look either." Katrina says and Sophia nods.
You've already succumbed to them once in a while. Nothing will stop you from doing it again.
The girls send you their last kisses. After a while, it's just you and your tattoo artist left in the room.
***
You're honestly glad when the uncomfortable silence is drowned out by the song "Ultraviolence" by Lana Del Rey. You asked to simply turn on the radio, but you were surprised when Colby asked you for the title. What was even weirder was when he used the fucking vinyl of one of your favorite albums instead of Spotify.
He hums to himself. "Those are nice."
You got rid of your bra. No one has ever complimented your boobs, but you smile slightly, burying your face in your hands.
He gives you a little wink before stenciling what you had in mind, his fingertips tracing the lines of the ink that leaves goosebumps across your skin.
There's a lingering feeling as he pulls his hand back. You think he's toying with you. Frightful little thing, you are and here he is wanting to play with his pretty little client. Next thing you know, his hand is around your throat.
You tense and realize that he has moved some of your hair to the other side to give more access to the space between your tits. It definitely could have been done easier and better, but the twinkle in his eyes said he did it on purpose. Oh yes, he was definitely having fun with you. The way his hand barely grazed your throat and the side of your neck before he would gently scratch your arm with his blunt nails and pull away.
He let's out a huff of quiet laughter and then gets his tools ready. "So, y/n, you have a safeword?"
And you're brought out of your thoughts about his large hands because... "Huh?"
"A safeword. It's big."
W..what's big? You can't stop your eyes from flitting down to his thighs and what may lie between them. He laughs and shifts so your eyes are instantly back up and staring at his eyes that glimmer in amusement.
"The tattoo, I mean. It's a big piece. Need to know if it'll be too much, yeah?"
1K notes · View notes
antxlss · 1 year
Text
convenient
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pairing: xavier thorpe x reader
summary: your best friend xavier only talks to you when it’s convenient, and you’ve always been okay with that. but he’s really pushed it this time.
warnings: suggestive, toxic friendship, daddy issues
a/n: i really like this one! but i need you guys to come through with the requests, i’m not creative at all. comment them below!
-—————————⋆。‧˚ʚɞ˚‧。⋆—————————-
the boy’s dorm (3rd person):
it was a friday night in ajax’s room. all the boys were there. kent, ajax (obviously), rowan, xavier, and a few other boys were all in a meaningless discussion about girls. what else would a group of hormonal teenage boys be talking about?
“you guys get no bitches. i literally pulled the hottest werewolf chick in the school.” ajax said confidently. he was talking about enid, the girl he had just taken out on a date earlier that evening.
of course all the boys went into an uproar about how they can pull more “bitches” than the other.
“what about xavier? he has the most popular girl in school. bianca barclay?” one of the boys added.
“xavier has two chicks” ajax explained. “y/n l/n is all over you 24/7”
“that’s not funny, man. y/n is my best friend.” xavier said sounding almost upset.
“so you’re telling me you wouldn’t bang her if you had the chance, because i definitely would.” kent said smirking.
that comment caused all the boy to erupt into a fit of laughter. xavier wasn’t amused as he angrily left the room slamming the door behind him.
in the girls’ dorm (2nd person):
you were in enid’s dorm with enid, yoko, and a few other girls from ophelia hall, just painting each other’s nails and talking about whatever came to mind. when suddenly you brought up the elephant in the room. enid had went out with ajax, her long time crush, earlier that evening, and all of you were dying to hear about it.
“okay e, spill it. how was your date?” you said.
“oh, it was magical! we went on a picnic by the lake! he even offered to take insta pics for me! he’s so perfect.” she rambled with lovestruck eyes. “okay. enough about me. i’m not the only one who’s going to be hammered with questions about their crush tonight.” enid continued. “y/n, when are you going to admit that you are in love with xavier?”
“i’m not in love with xavier.” you scoffed.
you were so in love with xavier. you had been best friends with him since before freshman year at nevermore. you both attended the same middle school. you guys just stuck together when you were sent to nevermore. you both joined the archery club which caused you to spend more time together, and now you guys are practically inseparable. having known each other for so long, you know about his rocky relationship with his father. in fact you are probably the only one who knows all the details. that’s why he always comes to you to talk and trauma dump.
being as close as you guys were, made it impossible for you to not catch feelings. but when he started dating bianca barclay earlier this year, you knew he didn’t feel the same way towards you. so, you have just continued being his best friend and the girl he runs to only when it’s convenient. but that’s enough for you.
“i’m tired” you yawned. “i think i’m going to head back to my dorm.”
“yeah, it’s getting late you guys.” yoko agreed.
and with that you all wrapped everything up and headed your separate ways.
[time skip]
it was saturday, which meant all the nevermore students were aloud to go to jericho. all of your friends already had plans with their boyfriends or their other friends, so you had planned a day out by yourself. you weren’t actually that mad about it. you could use a day alone.
you got up and got ready putting on a cute, but comfy outfit. you did some light makeup, grabbed your bag and headed out.
you decided to walk to town, a little exercise wouldn’t kill you. once you arrived, you headed to the local library to trade out some of the books you had borrowed last weekend. you could use the school’s library, but the selection there was very limited, and you have a very vast selection of books. basically the school library isn’t cutting it, so you find all your novels here.
you walked in the library returning your old books and heading to the shelves to find three more books to hold you over until your next trip to jericho. you found some books that interested you and you checked them out. you shopped around at a few more stores until you went to your last stop. the weathervane.
you walked in and ordered your usual, an iced matcha latte, and headed to your usual booth. you pulled out your laptop and worked on some homework that was due on monday while you sipped on your drink. you were working peacefully for a few minutes when what sounded like arguing snapped you out of your homework.
two tables across from you sat xavier and bianca. they seemed to be arguing about something. xavier looked really upset. you tried your best to make out what they were saying, but it was nearly impossible. they kept at it for a few more seconds before xavier got up and stormed out. bianca put her head in her hands and trailed behind him. part of you wanted to get up, follow your best friend and ask him what was going on, but you knew better. you didn’t want to overstep. if he wanted to to talk to you he would text you. so, you left it alone and continued with your day.
[time skip]
it was 10:00 p.m. that night. you were reading one of the books you had picked up earlier that day. you had your phone on do not disturb mode so you could focus on your book. it never did cross your mind that someone would try to get a hold of you. that is until you heard frantic knocks against your door. you knew exactly who it was. xavier. luckily you had a scored a single dorm this school year, so it wasn’t unusual for xavier to sneak in and hang in your room. but considering what you saw happen today, this wasn’t just a hang.
you quickly hopped off of your bed, shutting your book and taking out your airpods. as soon as you opened the door xavier rushed in and you shut the door behind him.
“why weren’t you answering me?” he asked sort of angrily.
“i was reading and my phone was on do not disturb mode” you replied. “why are you so upset?”
“i found out that bianca was using her siren song on me. god i knew i couldn’t trust her.” he scoffed while running his hand through his long hair.
“i’m so sorry xavier. did you break up with her?” you asked in a settling tone.
“yeah. today at the weathervane.”
of course you already knew that, you watched the whole thing go down. “just know i’m always here for you.” you comforted him as you put you hand on his upper arm.
“i know.” he said as he inched closer to you. he grabbed your chin and pulled your face towards his. your noses were almost touching. his lips lingering over yours. he moved his other hand to the back of your neck and pushed your lips together.
the kiss was hungry, desperate, angry, and full of desire. you wanted more. this is what you’ve always wanted. but why is he doing this. he’s never shown any romantic interest in you. that’s when it hit you.
you pull away.
“w-what’s wrong?” xavier stutters out of breath.
“no. don’t do that. you can’t just come in here and take advantage of me. you can’t just come here and fuck me just because you’re heartbroken.” you say holding back tears.
“do you really think that low of me y/n?” he yells.
“yeah. i do.” you yell back. “this is how it’s always been in the four years that i’ve known you. you only come to me when you’re desperate. like that time in sixth grade when all your other friends had already planned to go to the movies and it was too late for you to join so i was the only one left to hang out with. or that time last year, everyone else already had a date to the rave’n and all the other girls you asked rejected you, so i was your last resort.” you screamed back tears falling down your face.
“i’m sorry y/n.” xavier tried to get out, but you cut him off.
“or like right now. you have blown me off every single time i have tried to talk to you since you got with bianca and you finally talk to when you can’t run to her anymore. not to mention the only time you talk to me is when you need a therapist.” you were now full on bawling.
“i’m really-“ he started.
“now you’re playing with my feelings. can’t you see i’ve been in love with you ever since i’d met you? even when you treat me like crap. no. you only want me when i’m convenient.” you finish.
“y/n, please.” he begged.
“no get out. now.” you cried.
“but-”
“right now. please.” you were desperate for him to leave. you couldn’t even look at him.
with that he got up and walked out and you were left alone with your thoughts. it felt good to get that off your chest after four years.
part 2
3K notes · View notes
pupyuj · 7 months
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→ “body party.” || ahn yujin x reader fic.
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— a cute girl approaches you about your workout routine in your favorite gym in town, and then very strange but sexy events follow...
word count: 8.7k.
dynamic: dom!bimbo!ahn yujin x sub!gym rat!reader.
content warning: smut, unnie kink?, masturbation, shower sssex 😵‍💫, fingering, oral, cunnilingus, semi-exhibitionism, voyeurism, body worship, nipple play, oral fixation, (legal!!) age gap, implied piss kink (yeah i'm serious).
requested? : nope. (just me being a whore for yuj again...)
a/n: the lack of yujin gym content while knowing full well that she's a gym rat should be a federal crime.. starship entertainment are you ready to die . anyway, SHE'S FREEEE!!! soooo sorry this took literally FOREVER ya'll but i'm happy i'm finally letting her out the drafts!! i had a lot of fun writing this so i hope ya'll enjoy it!! 💙💙 apologies for any mistakes tho,, I GOTTA GO TO CLASS—
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ahn yujin didn’t know what to expect when she entered the gym after weeks of burying herself in her homework, but she certainly didn’t expect to meet a sickeningly pretty and ferociously sexy girl like you.
yujin knew she had to fuck you the moment she laid eyes on you in the changing rooms. you appeared to have just finished working out, judging by your damp hair and the fresh set of clothes you were wearing. yujin had to be discreet with the way she was checking you out considering that you were sitting on a bench only a few ways away from her locker, so she should at least be looking at you from the corner of her eye but she didn’t even try to! she was completely mesmerized by your toned body, sculpted to perfection by nobody but yourself… yujin could swear she was drooling as her eyes locked onto your abs, so inviting…
if she had a dick, she would definitely be hard.
you were wearing a simple crop top with sweatpants and a jacket but god, yujin has never seen a finer woman in her whole twenty years of living. the headphones around your neck wasn’t helping either — you were by far the most attractive girl in town, and yujin has seen a lot of pretty girls!
yujin didn’t know you. she was pretty sure this was the first time she has ever seen you, but oh god that thoughts that ran through her mind… surely you would run away from her if she let you hear about them. she couldn’t stop looking at your face, her pussy clenching at the way you bit your lip and swiped your tongue across them. a part yujin wanted to approach you right now, but you looked like you were tending to something important on your phone. what would she even say? right now, yujin just had this raging urge to bend you over the bench you were sitting on and make you scream her name until it was the only thing you could say—
suddenly, you got up from your seat, slinging your gym bag over your shoulder and smiled. at yujin. pause. oh good god, you were looking at her.
“see you later.” you said before swiftly turning on your heel and exiting the changing room, bidding goodbye to everyone else as well. yujin was blushing so hard. she had to keep herself from running and jumping around the changing rooms. did you have to sound so cute too?! yujin swore she almost chased after you and asked for your number, but she knew she would have looked stupid.
“why do you look like you’re about to explode?” yujin’s friend, gaeul, has finally entered the changing rooms with another friend in tow, jiwon.
yujin bites her lip, “hottest girl in town told me that she will ‘see me later’.” she was giggling, earning a few strange looks from the other girls in the room.
“that’s weird. i haven’t said anything to you yet.” wonyoung, who has apparently been in the room this entire time, says while filing her already-perfect nails. 
yujin rolled her eyes at her friend before taking her hand and pulling her up from her seat, patting her ass, “let’s workout!”
it should be noted that you were in yujin’s head the entire day. she couldn’t do her routine properly because she was imagining your pretty face in between her legs… she almost fell off the treadmill for that exact reason. gaeul scolded her for nearly dropping a dumbbell on her own feet, because yujin had been busy drooling while remembering how your ass looked like it would be perfect to have in her hands. needless to say, yujin was very infatuated. there weren’t enough words in the world to express just how much she wanted you!
yujin was thinking about you even after she left the gym. she was thinking about you while she was walking her dog, while she was cooking dinner, while she was eating said dinner, while she was in her bathtub, while she was watching a cool new movie on netflix, and then… while she was trying to fall asleep. actually, she was just laying down on her bed, staring at the ceiling. and then, she slid her hand inside her pants, and started rubbing her pussy at the thought of you. it was actually unbelievable how a stranger she only saw for less than five minutes could have this much of an effect on her.
yujin fingered herself like she had never done before—playing with her clit with her own thumb, moaning so loud, bucking her hips into her own hand… hugging her pillow tightly to muffle her moans at least a little bit. but she kept going, she couldn’t stop. yujin made a mental note to approach you as soon as she sees you. and fuck, she was going to make sure that the next time she goes to the gym, she was going to get laid.
then, lo and behold, yujin’s wishes came true when she spotted you entering the gym as she was parking her car. gosh, your ass looked so good in those leggings. yujin couldn’t wait to just put her hands on you and give you the best fuck of your life. and yes, she was confident because she had quite the reputation in this gym, in this town. yujin was not only good at sex, she was fucking amazing. and she had no doubts that she would have you begging for her to make you come again by the end of this entire thing.
but first, yujin has to find a way to approach you without coming on too strong. that might have worked to the other girls she has hooked up with in this gym, mostly because they were just as much of a whore as yujin was, but she had a feeling that you were a girl with some sense of class. as much as yujin hated taking things slow especially when all she really wanted was to fuck, the idea of getting you to submit to her after she was done being all romantic sounded very enticing.
yujin watched as you talked to the male receptionist behind the counter. he was blushing, he was stuttering, and yujin figured that he must have been a part-timer because he looked young and hormonal. yujin grimaced as the boy tripped over his words and bit his tongue a few times as you made small talk with him. the slightly older other receptionist stared as the young boy sweats profusely at your presence—you had that effect on everybody, apparently. yujin crosses her arms, not at all a fan of the way the boy’s eyes lingered on your ass as you turned to enter the gym.
gross.
granted, yujin has done the same and has thought worse things about you but see, it was way different!
yujin trailed behind you as the two of you both made your way towards the locker room. everybody was staring at you, and then at yujin. a few girls waved at her, but she couldn’t keep her eyes off of you, except for the times when she would side eye a few men that looked at you in a way she didn’t like. god, yujin just had this urge to grab you right there and bend you over a barbell bench and show everyone that nobody will be able to make you feel as good as she can.
upon entering the locker room, yujin makes eye contact with wonyoung, who has once again somehow managed to arrive earlier than everyone else. and it seems like she had brought jiwon along with her. there were definitely doing something they shouldn’t have been doing together considering the way they jolted away from each other like they were shocked when yujin, as well as yourself, entered the room. you smiled and greeted the two girls before opening up your usual locker.
yujin’s eyes flicker over to your ass before she busies herself with her bag. of course, wonyoung and jiwon notice this and they approach her about it!
“real subtle, unnie.” wonyoung whispered, a smirk dancing on her lips as she watched yujin roll her eyes.
“we were calling you last night, you know,” jiwon said. “wonyoung and i went out for a little midnight mcdonald’s run and we were going to ask if you wanted anything but you must’ve gone to sleep early.”
yujin chuckled, “oh, i was awake. but my phone was on silent.” she bites her lip, remembering all of the nasty things she thought about you when she touched herself last night. having known yujin since they were little children, wonyoung had this special and amazing ability to be somehow in sync with her mind, figuratively of course, so she immediately knew what yujin had meant by that. the older girl spent the entire day ogling at you after all, what else could she have done when she got home?
“huh… were you busy?” jiwon asked, scratching her head. 
wonyoung pats her friend’s back and sighed, “i think it’s best that you don’t know, jiwonie.”
“saying that as if i didn’t just catch the two of you on the verge of pouncing on each other.” yujin bites back, and judging by the way, jiwon’s face flushed and her eyes started darting everywhere, her suspicions were right!
a locker closes, making the girls turn their head towards your direction. you give them a brief smile before exiting the room, humming to a beat and all. wonyoung herself couldn’t help but whistle at the sight of your perfect ass, thank goodness you were wearing your headphones as you left, or else yujin would’ve had to smack her friend upside in the head. even jiwon was seemingly mesmerized by your amazing body—yujin knew she wasn’t alone in all of this!
“i’m going to fuck her.” yujin said. wonyoung looked unfazed by her proposal, meanwhile jiwon’s face had warmed up at the thought. jiwon had known about yujin’s awful habit of fucking every girl she encounters anywhere, especially in the gym, but she hadn’t seen her in action just yet! she has only heard stories from wonyoung and gaeul—stories that made her want to shrink onto herself because of how flustered she got from the things yujin has done.
“she looks like a challenge, unnie. good luck.” wonyoung said, patting the older girl’s arm before taking jiwon’s hand and leaving the locker room.
a challenge, they say? well! if yujin was good at anything, other than fucking, it was having more guts than anyone and taking a leap of faith. she knew she was hot, she knew she was pretty, and she most definitely knew you were gay as hell—she can do anything! with a huff and an encouraging enough pat on the back (given by herself, yes), yujin leaves the changing rooms with a smile on her face, thinking up of a plan to approach you and to slowly make you submit to her. jiwon and wonyoung were occupying some treadmills, chatting amongst each other. maybe even flirting! neither of them have been slick after all.
yujin spots you only a few steps away from wonyoung and jiwon. you were also on a treadmill, walking at a steady pace and eyes glued towards the small screen that played your favorite television show from the early 2010’s. yujin tilts her head, smiling at the way you were so focused on the show that you nearly tripped. you were quick to catch yourself and keep on walking like nothing happened though, to which yujin chuckled lightly before someone—a man!—tapped you on the shoulder and caught your attention. the man was only asking if you were okay but nobody could blame yujin for seeing red because he was not making his interest in your tits subtle at all!
god, if yujin could make that man explode with her mind, she totally would.
“oh, i know that look,” gaeul, who just arrived inside the facility, said with a smirk. she lifted her sunglasses up and wriggled her eyebrows towards yujin. “what’s the plan?” she asked, nudging her friend with her elbow.
“it doesn’t involve you, unnie.” yujin replied. gaeul waved at wonyoung and jiwon before patting yujin’s bum and walking away with a wink. the younger girl sighed and looked at you again. thankfully enough, the man has left you all alone and you were once again focused on your television show. yujin scans the entire room—nearly everybody looks at your direction every now and then. eyes raking all over your body, captivated by your beauty the same way yujin was when she first saw you. all of these people wanted you, but yujin was going to make sure that she was the only one out of all of them that will have you.
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see, not a lot of people approached you. and you didn’t know whether it was because you looked intimidating or if you gave off some sort of bad vibes, but a lot of the folks that frequent the gym just don’t seem to be very fond of talking to you, which explains the countless times you have tried chatting with someone and they suddenly start acting like they didn’t know how to hold a conversation. you grew fond of the people that did try to interact with you, but immediately lost affection for them the moment you figured out that all they wanted was your body.
as in, they wanted to fuck you.
like this girl. ahn yujin, she introduced herself. or was that her name? you couldn’t really remember. you logged out of the conversation when you took notice of the way her eyes could not at all stop roaming all over your body. see, if it were anyone else, you would have smiled and made up some sort of excuse to walk away from them, but something about this girl made you stand idly by the stepmill and listen to her. maybe it was the dimples, the frequent lip-licking, the attractive sounds of her laughs, the eye-smile, but god, you absolutely just went dumb for this girl.
what were the two of you even talking about? you had no idea. all you were thinking about was the many times you’ve seen this gorgeous girl before but never once thought to talk to her. in your head, you thought she would have acted like everyone else did but if you knew that she had this much interest in you then you would have entertained her much, much earlier.
while yujin talked, you let your eyes not-so-discreetly wander. she was taller than you, and no doubt stronger than you by the way her arms were built. you couldn’t look away from her abs, which was weird considering you had some of your own and yet, it was hers you were currently obsessing over. jesus christ, she was so hot. and so fucking charming! as much as you were aware of her not-very-subtle pick-up technique, you couldn’t stop yourself from falling for it. she giggled every second, winked every now and then, and you blushed at every single action.
you probably looked like an awestruck dumbass to everyone else right now. but the men around could use this wake-up call. you were only interested in women. tall, tan, and ridiculously handsome women who had ways to talk themselves into a girl’s pants.
“do you think you could give me some pointers, unnie?” yujin smiles sweetly, tilting her head and showing off those cute dimples.
you blinked, realizing that you did not hear a single word of what she said at all. “s-sure! sure, i could. of course.” you answered, clearing your throat right after. yujin eyes shined with pure excitement and you found it so adorable that you couldn’t help but smile brightly at her. you knew damn well that she was spitting bullshit but listen, you were a simple woman!
pretty girl. have to kiss. maybe even fuck—
“so, how do i use this thing?” yujin pats the stepmill, looking at it curiously. you were so sure that you saw her using this exact machine some days ago. regardless, you taught her how to use the machine, talking on and on about specific things. you thought that yujin would get bored of you rambling about a stupid gym equipment but when you looked at her, she was intently staring, absorbing each and every word you were saying. and it was this moment when you thought that maybe she isn’t all bad!
(“she has to be joking right now,” wonyoung said as she stared incredulously at you and yujin. “is she seriously expecting a girl that hot and smart to fall for her usual antics?”
“yeah. i mean, she is yujin.” gaeul replied, smiling proudly when yujin asking the dumbest question actually got you to look at and talk to her.
“i’m not sure if the stupidity is an act anymore…” wonyoung sighed, shaking her head. jiwon was happy for yujin, actually! she was smiling as she watched you and her interact. sure, it was dumb but yujin surely did have her ways. maybe jiwon should write down some notes…)
you and yujin proceeded to chat about your workout routine as she busied herself with the stepmill. you told her everything—your warm-ups, your more intense workouts, the exercises you do when you can’t make it to the gym, your diet—and yujin never failed to listen. your heart warmed up at the gesture. nobody really listens to you ramble on for that long about that part of your life without dismissing you or switching to another topic entirely. you decided that you liked yujin! she seemed like a nice enough girl, and she was very, very pleasing to look at too.
it felt good to have a friend who would listen to your nonsense like this. well, she wasn’t really a friend yet. of course not. you weren’t stupid—you just met! but perhaps the lust you noticed in her eyes before was all in your imagination. just because everyone in the gym viewed you as some prize to be won didn’t mean she thought that too. or that was what you hoped, at least.
(you are so goddamn naive.)
“ah, sorry. i have to take this call.” you excused yourself out of the conversation and went to some corner to answer a call from one of your friends.
(back on the stepmill, yujin shoots a look towards wonyoung, gaeul, and jiwon, winking at them and shaking her shoulders in celebration. gaeul claps silently wearing a proud grin and all, jiwon shoots her two thumbs ups, while wonyoung rolled her eyes in annoyance. no doubt yujin was going to be annoying about her stupid plan working. in response to wonyoung’s attitude, yujin gives her a kiss in the air, making the younger girl grimace and look away.
“so bitter. all she has to do pay me is twenty bucks, geez.” yujin muttered under her breath.)
after a few minutes or so, you came back to yujin who was now off the stepmill, thinking that she had had enough of the machine for the day. “thanks a lot for the tips, unnie. i think i should know what to do with my time here now.” yujin says. again, you knew she had a routine of her own—and a pretty complicated one at that! so you didn’t know what exactly she was thanking you for.
nevertheless, you shot her a smile back. “no worries, yujin-ah.”
yujin couldn’t help but blush, but she was quick to cover up her bashfulness with a bold statement. bold in your standards anyway. “you’re sweet, unnie. could i have your number?” bold, because nobody in this damn place never knew how to hold a conversation with you, let alone work up the courage to ask for your number after only a solid few minutes of useless talking! 
“it’s not everyday you meet decent people at the gym, you know?” yujin steps forward, tilting her head and blinking at you innocently. “maybe we can even hang out somewhere else! i think you’re great, unnie.” she says, a sheepish smile gracing her features. oh, she really has charmed you. because before you knew it, you had her phone in your hands and you were typing down your number on it. she probably meant it as friends, right? right? yeah, probably.
“thank you.” yujin says when you return her phone to her. she stares at her screen for a bit, pretty eyes fluttering back up to glance at you for a second, before she starts typing. no doubt to send you a quick message so you could save her number on your phone. you felt your device vibrate in your pocket but you don’t bother to pull it out.
“oh, are you leaving early today, unnie?” yujin asks as you pick your water bottle up from the ground. you noticed the pout on her lips when you stood back up, and it made you smile a little.
you nodded, “yeah. i made some plans with a friend today, that ought to be fun.”
“aw. i guess i’ll just see you tomorrow, then?” yujin truly did sound disappointed. you almost wanted to ditch whatever plans you had, but you weren’t that kind of friend. you would never cancel plans just to spend time with some stranger from the gym! (you weren’t that kind of friend, yet.)
“mhm. i’m always here anyway. either to do some work or to just visit. some of the staff are my friends,” you grinned and waved at the cute female employee in the distance. yewon, as her name tag showed, waved back at you before doing whatever chore she was doing. “it was nice meeting you, yujin-ah.” you pat the girl’s arm before walking past her and approaching yewon, who took out one of her earbuds and started chatting with you.
however, during the entire time you were chatting with yewon about your plans (the very same plans she was to join later), your eyes couldn’t help but wander. away from your friend and towards the direction of one ahn yujin, who was now busy talking and laughing with her own friends. it seems like she couldn’t help herself from looking at you too. the two of you shared glances and small smiles as you talked with your respective friends. of course yewon wasn’t stupid, she noticed how your eyes never focused on her.
“what happened to never making friends with the people in the gym, (y/n)?” she asked, crossing her arms. “or will she become something more, i wonder?” yewon teased, nudging your arm and everything while wearing a smirk on her cute face.
you blinked innocently at your friend. “what do you mean?” you knew damn well what she meant! a girl as pretty as yujin staying solely as friends with you? why, that was akin to saying that hell would eventually freeze over! yewon rolls her eyes at you and walked away, saying something about doing her job and updating you of her plans later. when she left you on your lonesome, you started walking back to the changing rooms.
and of course, you spared one last glance at yujin. and it turns out that she had been looking at you the entire time.
she smiles, you do the same. and despite your resistance, your heart skips a beat.
something more, yewon said! well, after seeing those abs and dimples up close, you sure hope so.
you ended up taking a shower in the changing rooms with a bright smile on your face, thrilled for the new and exciting adventure you might have with your new ‘friend’.
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for the past few days, everything you have been doing, you’ve been doing it with yujin. but in the gym, of course. you’ve told her about your usual routine so she started following it, you take breaks from workouts together, and you talk a lot in the changing rooms before and after working out! you even got to know yujin’s friends a bit as well! other than yujin herself, jiwon might be your favorite in the little group as you often find yourself smiling and waving at her whenever you see her. but you’ve tried toning the smiles down a bit after wonyoung sent a glare your way one time. but yujin reassured you that wonyoung doesn’t hold any negative feelings about you—she was just naturally overprotective of jiwon considering wonyoung has been crushing on her for the longest time.
anyway, yujin’s friends were lovely. yujin herself was lovely. you were glad to be friends with her.
in fact, you’ve become so close that you eventually wanted to hang out with her outside of the gym! fortunately enough, yujin liked you to the point where she agreed to do whatever you want! from brunches, to visiting exhibits and aquariums, going to concerts—everything! yujin quickly became one of your best friends, but one could say that the two of you are too close. or at least that was what umji told you.
“just be careful, (y/n). people you meet in the gym have a track record of being, well, not very good!”
she was referring to your exes, but it wasn’t like you were planning on dating yujin! nor were you planning on liking her like that. ahn yujin was simply your friend. your criminally attractive friend who makes shameless comments about how hot she finds you and always seems to have her hands on you. like now, at this present time, she has an arm around your shoulders as the two of you watched a cartoon that only aired early in the mornings on your living room couch.
the two of you have become comfortable enough to be affectionate like this but recently, you’ve noticed that there’s been something in the air. and you weren’t stupid. you knew all about sexual tension but this one was simply ridiculous—it was off the charts! in your head, you blamed yujin for being so unfairly hot and charming. every cheeky grin, smirk, and wink sent your mind into a frenzy and before you knew it, she was all you thought about as you lay in your bed at night!
“the girls and i are planning on going to that fair later in the week. will you and umji-unnie be there?” yujin asked, shiny eyes landing right on yours. she realizes that you’ve been staring at her and laughed lightly, but chose not to address it since you’ve looked away with your cheeks burning. it was a normal occurrence at this point. it happens to yujin sometimes too but instead of getting caught staring at your face, it was your ass. or boobs depending on which private part of yours she chooses to drool over for the day. you try to tease her about it when you do catch her but yujin always finds a way to smooth-talk her way out of scrutiny.
damn her and wits.
“i think so. umji’s girlfriend has been waiting for that fair since she missed it last year so umji is legally obligated to go. and that automatically means that i’m tagging along.” you pulled out your phone from your sweater pocket and looked at the time. 8:43. you and yujin were going to drive to the gym soon.
“you’d willingly third-wheel? god, i refuse to be around jiwon and wonyoung unless gaeul-unnie was with me. they aren’t dating but they sure can be some saps.” yujin sighs, playfully rolling her eyes at the memory of her two best friends always playing push-and-pull with their feelings for each other.
“i won’t be third-wheeling if we just leave the lovebirds and go on our own adventure,” you tried to sound nonchalant about the whole thing as much as you could but if yujin was able to see through you, you wouldn’t be surprised. “with gaeul too.”
“nah, forget about unnie. i bet she’d love to be alone. she’s kind of weird sometimes,” yujin smiles at you. that same charming smile she always shot your way since the day she approached you. so handsome. “we should definitely just go together.” you didn’t get to say anything else because an alarm in your phone went off and yujin stood up. if you give in to your delusions enough, you could see that yujin was smiling a little bit because of your statement.
you turned off your tv and followed yujin to the door, where she was putting her shoes on and swiping her keys from some hooks on the wall. now you finally have use for that thing. after you’ve grabbed your bag, yujin opens the door for you and you walk out, relishing in the feeling of the chill morning air kissing your skin as you walk down the steps of your front porch. yujin locks your door and tosses the key over to you, and you catch it effortlessly, to which she whistles at. apparently, that was attractive.
yujin was to drive both of you to the gym today. it was a thing she always did on wednesdays. you don’t know why wednesdays specifically but they happen to be your lazy days so you were thankful for the sentiment. you settled yourself in the passenger seat and managed to snatch the bluetooth connection before yujin did, sticking your tongue out at her when you did and earning an eye roll.
when yujin pulled out of your driveway, you were so sure that it was just going to be another day with her. but you should’ve known otherwise when she put her hand on your thigh and caressed your skin with her thumb as she drove down the road with a small smile on her lips.
at that time, you didn’t know yet but yujin was going to make your week significantly better!
you started your usual routine when the two of you arrived in the gym: make small talk with the receptionists and umji, greet everybody around, head into the locker rooms to change into your usual workout attire, and start your day! and see, for the most part, the usual was what happened, you know? you and yujin did the same exact workouts, never left each other’s side as well as sights—even when yujin’s friends arrived the two of you were attached by the hip! gaeul had been smiling strangely at you the entire time she talked with you for a bit, so that made you believe yujin’s statement about gaeul being weird at times. and from behind gaeul, jiwon and wonyoung were up to their usual will-they, won’t-they antics. totally normal.
it wasn’t until some guy somehow gathered the courage to strike up a conversation with you when things took a weird turn.
you knew your way around men in the gym but for the first time, none of your evasive maneuvers were working. laughing and smiling did you not work, you actually had to say more than a few words to the guy. excusing yourself out of the conversion did not work because when you came back from whatever lie you told, the guy talked to you again! not finding it in you to avoid him any longer, you opted to stand there and listen to him go on and on about his adventures in this gym. of course, you had to share your stories too and you know what, you were actually starting to get interested in the topic.
the guy seemed genuine enough. no ulterior motives whatsoever. all smiles and eyes focused on yours the entire ti—did he just touch your waist?
ah, it was too good to be true. you should’ve known men were never going to be normal about you!
yujin apparently did, however, because the moment she saw you freeze up, she bolted to where you were standing and swatted the man’s hand away from you.
“whoa, easy. i was just—”
“just being a massive pervert. i know. screw off, fucker.”
yujin doesn’t even wait until the guy walks off to drag you somewhere far away from him. she glares at anybody who stared at the scene and stopped walking when the two of you reached the stepmills. she was fuming—eyebrows furrowed deeply, her normally soft brown eyes looked at you harshly. a heavy sigh escaped her lips and she turned her head away. it wasn’t until you tilted your head to look at her that she finally calmed down. from the distance, you could see her friends staring. wonyoung was seemingly surprised at what went down, jiwon was clearly concerned for you, and gaeul looked like she was already planning on poking holes at the guy’s tires as soon as she could.
yujin huffs, pouting at you. “that’s why you should stop entertaining the people here, unnie.”
“i entertained you. look where that got me.” you said with a smile. and well, yujin was smarter than she looked! she knew exactly what you meant; how you were aware of her intentions then and now. suddenly, her mouth was clamped shut. she looked guilty, almost ashamed. but she doesn’t say anything after that, merely muttering about punching that guy before continuing on with her routine. you don’t know why, but it was awkward after that. yujin couldn’t seem to bring herself to look at you but when she did, you could feel it. you always get chills, the good kind, whenever she stares at you so you just knew.
eventually, you wanted a break. so you briefly stepped outside for some fresh air. the breeze felt cool against your damp skin. you stretched out your sore legs and arms, you were surprisingly already tired despite having only been working out for a short while. clear proof that talking and being around men was an energy-drainer. maybe you should really take a page out of yujin’s book and pretend that they don’t exist entirely. speaking of yujin, you wondered if yoju actually hurt her in some way. it’s not like you were condemning her for having ulterior motives when she first talked to you, you did feel and were thinking the same things for her back then. so in conclusion, both of you were perverts.
“unnie.”
a blueberry yogurt juice box, your favorite among the variety of flavors they offer in the gym vending machines, enters your vision. you turned your head and there yujin was with a bashful look on her face.
“that really bummed me out. we should just call it a day.” she says, pouting. you accepted the juice box, chuckling slightly at her for being so cute.
now, you don’t know what came over you but at that moment, yujin looked so damn delicious with her protruding muscles, her bangs sticking to her forehead, and droplets of sweat running down her neck that you couldn’t help but be brave. you stood closer to her, one would say almost too close, and tilted your head, eyes flickering down to her inviting lips. “should we hit the showers then, yujin-ah?” you asked and god, you were practically eyefucking her.
yujin doesn’t seem fazed by your sudden confidence at all. she merely takes a cautious sideways glance before leaning close to your ear, lips dangerously close to your neck, making you shiver. “i was wondering when you were going to let me fuck you, unnie.” she whispered, smirking because she knew just how you were feeling considering you slightly pushed her away and covered your face with the juice box she gave you. she was too darn handsome. it was bold of you to think that you could make her feel flustered when she basically knows what always works with girls.
you take yujin’s wrist with your hand and she allows you to drag her back inside the gym. you avoided stopping for small talk. actually, you avoided looking at anybody else entirely! and as soon as the doors to the changing rooms closed, yujin’s hands were all over you. you grabbed her shirt, pulling it over her head before you kissed her. she presses your back against the cool metal lockers, making you whimper and giving her the perfect opportunity to insert her tongue inside your mouth. she unzips your thin jacket and pulls up your top along with your bra, her hands immediately getting busy with your breasts.
you bucked your hips against her pelvis desperately, but yujin ignored you. opting to break the kiss and take one of your nipples inside her mouth instead, running her tongue over the hard bud and sucking on it while pinching and squeezing the other one. but it doesn’t take long for her other hand to slowly make its descent down your body, feeling your stomach a bit, before slipping inside your leggings, teasing your sensitive clit through the fabric of your panties.
“mhmn… yujin.. more.”
that was all yujin needed before she stripped you down to only your panties. she takes a minute to observe your body, eyes shining with pure lust as well as appreciation before tugging you towards the showers. fortunately enough, it was empty so yujin took you to the nearest stall and didn't waste any time before pinning you against the door and kissing you again. you pulled off her ponytail and threw it away to some unknown corner, letting her gorgeous hair cascade down to her shoulders. you cupped her cheeks with your hands, pulling away slightly and pecking her lips softly, earning a giggle from her.
you pecked her lips again, and again, and every time, she would smile. yujin kissed you again, she was more gentle and careful this time… until she nearly ripped your panties when she pulled it off of you. “get in, unnie.” yujin said, giving you a kiss on your cheek and a pat on your ass before nodding her head towards the shower. yujin starts stripping herself down while you turn the faucet on, sighing contentedly as the cool water meets your skin. goosebumps grow all over your skin, but were completely erased when you felt strong arms wrap around your body.
yujin was warm. from the way she smiled at you, talked to you, treated you, kissed you, and now, the way she held you. her hands explored your body as she softly kissed your neck, “have i told you how perfect i find you, unnie?” yujin runs a hand across your breasts, glides it down to your stomach and all the way down to your inner thighs before making its way around your thighs and back up your waist. 
“you’re kind, you’re sweet… you’re exactly the type of person people would wanna bring home to their parents,” yujin turns you around, moving your wet hair behind your back and smiling at you when you cupped her cheeks again. you pull her closer, hungry for her lips. it was as if all you wanted to do was kissing her until you were sick of it—as if you would get sick of it though. “and fuck, you’re so hot.” yujin bites her lip before finally giving you what you had been craving for. this kiss had the equal amount of tenderness and passion, both immediately getting taken over by pure desire when yujin’s lips start leaving a trail of kisses down your jawline to your neck.
warmth blooms across your chest as yujin takes her time leaving carefully-placed marks all over your skin. sucking and licking wherever she felt was perfect until she eventually leaned back to stare at her work, “beautiful.” and she continues to use her lips as she lowered herself to the ground, leaving a few hickeys on your chest, your breasts, your stomach, and finally, your thighs.
“open up for me, unnie. i want to see you.” and so you do.
yujin licks her lips before kissing up to your inner thighs. you couldn’t help but put a hand on her head, staring down at her with pleading eyes, desperate for her to just get it over with and make you see the stars. you were lucky enough that yujin couldn’t find it in herself to tease you. surely after months of wooing you and playing with your head she would be exhausted from all the games, and thankfully she was! yujin leans in and gives your pussy one long lick, making you whimper and grip her hair just a little bit tighter. you could see her smile at you before she proceeds on eating you out.
clearly, this wasn’t yujin’s first time. maybe on her knees, yes. she, as well as her friends, have told you countless stories of how addicted she really was to eating pussy and you could see it clearly here. yujin, with her eyebrows furrowed in concentration and eyes shut tight while she makes a mess of her pretty face by slobbering all over your cunt. like a fucking dog. you pull and tug at her hair, unable to do anything else due to the amount of delight hindered your ability to think.
“mhm.. ha.. unnie’s pussy is so—ah, delicious.. i knew it.” yujin opens her eyes just to see the look on your face. all flustered and contorted with pleasure. you covered your mouth with your other hand just to make sure that you aren’t too loud. yujin didn’t like that, apparently. she sneaks one of her hands in between your thighs and leans back a little, licking your wetness off her mouth before shoving two fingers inside your cunt. you choked out a moan and you couldn’t even say anything to yujin about it all because she immediately wraps her lips around your sensitive clit.
“ahh..! y-yujin!” again, you clamped your mouth shut, opting to muffle them at the very least! the younger girl’s mouth and fingers surprisingly well together—yujin’s digits hitting all the right spots inside your walls while she flicks, sucks, and nibbles on your clit. having no choice but to uncover your mouth and put both your hands on yujin’s head, pushing her in further and practically grinding your hips on her face. 
“please, please, baby.. keep going…! m-more..” you were desperate for release. yujin could see that much. she stares and stares while she eats you out, so fucking turned out with the way you were begging for her—almost screaming for her despite what may come after.
(this was exactly what yujin wanted from day one. to have you screaming her name where everybody else can hear you just to prove that nobody, no other man and even woman, can make you feel as good as she can. now she’ll prove just how much she can make you feel. something beyond pleasure that only she can give you.)
“mmphf…! fuck, more… more, baby..!” and so yujin increases her pace, pulling her fingers out all the way and almost painfully plunging it back deep inside you. now you were screaming, having lost control of your composure long after yujin flicks your bud with her tongue and sucks on it desperately. you were pretty sure that you were hurting her with the way you gripped her hair tightly, but you knew that if you let go, you would fall over. your knees have turned to jelly, and it was only yujin’s body that kept you standing up.
“come all over my face, unnie…” yujin says. she takes out her fingers and replaces it with her tongue, once again making you moan loudly while she relishes in the taste of your cunt. fuck, yujin was so in love with how sweet you were, just the perfect flavor to satisfy her mouth. yujin makes out with your cunt, occasionally running her tongue over your clit and dipping it inside your hole, moaning as she did so. god, she could literally come just by eating you out alone. yujin has never been this addicted—you could probably pee on her and she’d drink it up! and she really would.
it takes another flick of yujin’s tongue on your clit before the pressure in your lower stomach finally breaks. yujin held your thighs tightly as you came, lapping up your cum diligently while she held you up. you grind your cunt against her mouth, still desperate to feel her mouth on your even though you were in the middle of your climax. yujin herself could not help but start licking again, her mind completely clouded with desire. now the only thing she wanted to do was make you come over and over again until both of you were exhausted out of your minds.
she wanted to see you lose every bit of control in your mind for her, and only her. and yujin plans on doing that very same thing today. right now.
much to your dismay, yujin pulls away from your cunt, not before giving your clit a sweet little kiss, and slowly stands up. she was only the slightest bit taller than you, but her dark eyes, alluring lips, and all the little droplets of water that ran down her toned body, you couldn’t help but go a little crazy over it all. yujin pulls you in, wrapping her lips around yours and immediately sliding her tongue inside your mouth, letting you taste a little bit of yourself before she presses your back against the wall.
while kissing you, yujin sneaks a hand in between your legs and starts massaging your clit in circles, relishing in the sounds of your muffled moans. you started moving your hips, grinding slowly on her hand. putting a hand behind your thigh, yujin pulls your leg up, wrapping it around her hips. she starts teasing your entrance, only running her fingertips over it rather than doing what you clearly wanted her to do. you whine in her mouth, detaching your lips from hers and looking at her with pleading eyes, “please, yujin. i need you.”
and how could she say no to you? yes, yujin would love to have you beg and beg for her but that was an experiment for later. right now, she wants to ruin you and have every damn person in this place know that the only girl that can take you to the stars is her.
yujin plunges two long fingers knuckle deep inside your pussy. she moans at your warmth, finding the way your tight cunt sucked her fingers in so attractive. pulling in and out excruciatingly slowly just to feel your cunt clench around her digits and soak them with your slick. “fuck, unnie… how are you so tight?” yujin chuckles. her eyes shined with hunger as she watched her fingers disappear inside of you.
“don’t tell me you’re a virgin… i’ll really ruin you if that’s the case—fuck.” yujin curls her fingers inside you, making you release a whiny moan before you cover your mouth shut. your face flushed while yujin laughed at you. you clawed at her back while she spread her fingers inside you before pushing them in even deeper. you didn’t even know if that was possible. she starts hitting the spots not even your toys are capable of reaching, her pace and force now increasing at an alarming rate, making you unable to say anything but nonsense.
you never really told yujin about your adventures in bed with other people. you weren’t a virgin of course, but what she didn’t know was that… you weren’t used to this. you knew a thing or two about being the one that’s doing the fucking, not the other way around! you somehow always had ways to be on top of the people you hook up with but the idea of letting yujin make you feel real pleasure was too enticing to give it up.
(oh, you have no idea how that information might’ve rewired yujin’s brain entirely. her obsession towards you slowly grew day by day—imagine what would have happened in here had you made her aware of that fact? she would make sure that you couldn’t walk.)
you hugged yuin by her neck tightly, hiding your face on her shoulder. a string of incoherent words leave your mouth as she steadily fucked you. it was reaching to a point where it almost hurt, but you buck your hips to her rhythm anyway, never having enough. yujin grabs your waist with her free arm, “up.” she said, tapping at your lower back. yujin momentarily pulls out of your cunt to wrap both of your legs around her waist, carrying you while still having you back up against the wall.
this time around, yujin doesn’t ease you into taking her fingers. as soon as you were comfortable, she shoves her two fingers right back inside of you and fucks your cunt relentlessly. she merely watched your face while she fucked you, grinning sickly at the way you threw your head back and gave her a full view of the mess she made on your neck. 
you were so beautiful like this—the perfect little piece of art that yujin can ruin as she pleases.
“nnngh… god, yujin—ah!” you dug your nails on her shoulders, leaning forward and pressing your forehead against hers.
“mhm, unnie’s such a good girl. it’s overwhelming isn’t it?” yujin whispers, tilting her head and leaving a quick kiss on your lips. “but you’re still taking it so well… fuck.” yujin increases her pace yet again, now fucking your cunt like it was some toy. you hug her tightly, screaming and whining at the amount of pleasure that took over your senses. it was so hard to comprehend it all, and now you believe all of the ridiculous stories her friends told you about her hookups. the thing that ahn yujin does best is sex, and good god was she fucking you stupid.
“y-yyujin… yujin…! yujin, i’m—mmgn…!”
“uh-huh. you’re coming, unnie? i got you. come. come.”
but she doesn’t let you. not immediately. yujin catches one of your nipples with her lips, sucking on it while she simultaneously fucked your cunt. she slows down her pace just by a bit, focusing her attention on your nipple just to truly make you lose your head when she thrusts inside you again. it all felt too much eventually. her fingers, her lips, her tongue, and all the things she made you feel. 
“ahh..! ah—yujin-ah, yujin..!” and then the knot in your stomach breaks for the second time today, your cum spilling all over yujin’s stomach. she shushes you as you come, kissing your shoulder softly and pulls her hand out of your pussy just to hug you tightly, caressing your back while you come down from your high. your head collapsed on top of her shoulder, and a few tears squeezed out of your eyes due to the slight pain that you felt in your groin. no doubt you couldn’t walk correctly after this. you just hoped that you could look everyone in the eye like nothing happened. not that you’d want to hide this from them anyway—yujin made you feel too good. that was something to boast about!
eventually, your breathing reverted back to normal and you lifted your head up.
“you okay?” yujin asked. she smiles as you hold her face in your hands, admiring every single one of her features for a good minute before pulling her in for a sweet kiss. your feet were back on the ground again, but you leaned on yujin’s body for support while the two of you made out under the cold water. only your soft moans, hushed whispers, little giggles, and the smacks of your lips being heard other than the running water.
“you’re not going to ignore me after this, right?” you asked after pulling away.
yujin looked at you incredulously, “unnie… i have a crush on you. why would i do that?” she said, pouting. adorable, but you still had doubts in your head considering her reputation! “especially now that i know how good your pussy tastes.” she joked, licking her lips.
you pushed her away with a smile, “perv.”
you weren’t able to get far before yujin pulled you in again, kissing you and laughing as she did so, making your heart jump several beats as it always does whenever she’s around.
of course, this was just another example of the local gym’s infamous ‘bimbo’ womanizer ahn yujin getting whatever she wants. except this time, she gets something more, something better and something real.
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