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#a toast on these two best friends

tomatoluvr69 · 2 months

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God. Goddddddd I had this weird premonition when interviewing for this job that a particular professor/my capstone and academic advisor from college would send her daughter here. And guess who I saw on day 2 picking her up 🙄 fuck my lifeeeeeeeeeeee the smallness of this city is killing me. And I think we had a good teacher/student relationship but she saw me flounder HARD in a particular aspect of fieldwork I can’t get into too much detail about without doxxing my field. But I only floundered because through the training, we had to participate as the participants a LOT, and it was really weird and traumatic for me even though I have led/facilitated this thing 1,000,000 times with no issue (as a WORKER— it was being a student that was difficult and weepy), and she saw me cry and fail and it was fucking tough, and when I graduated I was so relieved to be moving on and excited to blend into the sea of half-remembered former students in the rear view mirror even though a) the program was super small and I worked closely with her a lot over several years especially when I got to the upper levels and there were only a few of us and b) during my capstone year in 2020 a dear friend of mine at the college with whom I was planning to move in died in a traumatic and sudden way and she and I touched base a ton about balancing my academic demands as that and covid hit and whatnot. So there’s no way she’d forget me but Jesus Christ the last semester of senior year was heinous from all the terrifying fieldwork even though I’d been a model student up until then. Like memories of certain incidents have the power to stop me in my tracks with self-consciousness two years later. So to have her realize that someone like that is literally responsible for running through those things with her daughter…what on earth is the protocol for becoming the instructor of your instructor’s child???????????? Scream I hate this city so much lmfao. Oh AND to cap it all off I already know she takes her daughter to swim lessons one night a week while i am swimming laps which I fucking HAAAAAATE when I run into people I know. But to literally go from my job which is now person-I-know adjacent to my fuckinggggg safe space immediately afterwards is almost comical

#like I really can separate my student experience from my professional one. i have been a professional for longer than I was a student. i am #soooooo different in those two contexts #I’m just so……….#and this is straight off the back of some really fucking stupid and annoying information that two beloved friend’s partners used to date #for multiple years. which doesn’t sound that bad but I fucking despise one of their partners and love the other now there’s weird loyalty #stuff and me and one of them already have an incredibly strained relationship and I’m very close with her ex’s new girlfriend AND her #current partner and I literally would love to just wash my hands whatsoever but I cannot because she is dating my best friend LOL #*altogether #IF ANYONE FINDS THIS BLOG IM TOAST……..Jesus

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tonycries · 2 months

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Initiation!

Synopsis. “Just a small initiation, nothing too serious.” Couldn’t be too hard, right? So why are you - the all-new frat sweetheart - being pinned to the bed and stuffed full from all ends by your frat brothers?

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader, Geto Suguru x Reader, Fushiguro Toji x Reader, brief Nanami x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, fratboy! JJK men, gangbang, frat sweetheart! reader, cumplay, choking, oral (male + female), anal, double penetration, cunnilingus, Suguru is MEAN - so is everyone else, some heinous things idek how to tag, unprotected, no curses! AU, marking, pet names (princess, darling, doll), swearing.

Word count. 4.8k

A/N. Am not the same person I was before I wrote this…

Art by @_3aem on X.

Tequila was your best friend when Suguru and Satoru weren’t around.

Which is probably why you were five shots deep before 9pm, heavy bass thrumming through your veins and sleek tabletop steady under your rocky heels.

Everything was a blur. The pulsing neon lights, cheers following your every sway and twirl, and the atmosphere heavy with beer and laughter in that heady Jujutsu Phi frat house.

You almost miss that familiar flash of cloudy white locks and those narrowed black eyes greedily watching your hips to the beat. Almost.

An excited exclamation of “There’s our all-new sweetheart!”. And the world tilts.

Falling down really does feel good. Especially when the ground is so warm - and smells faintly of overpriced cologne.

“Careful, there, Satoru. Wouldn’t wanna hurt the sweetheart right before initiation.”

A pair of strong arms underneath you, and a deep voice hot against your ear. “Havin’ a lotta fun without us, huh?”

Oh, you’d recognize those devastatingly handsome faces anywhere. You blink, eyebrows furrowed slightly at your best friends as you tried to focus on their words. “Sweetheart? Me?”

To your right, Suguru nods slowly, a sly smile playing on his lips. “Absolutely. Who else? No one better we can think of, darling.”

Satoru’s eager voice chimes in, “As presidents, and the only men to binge Bridgerton with you, we love you. The frat brothers love you too, especially our supervisor.”

“Mmm, I dunno. What do I hafta do?” face heating and words slurring together, in your alcohol-induced haze, you miss the devilish glance shared between the two.

Satoru chuckles, a dark glint in his eyes, “Just a small initiation, nothing too serious.”

Your laughter is infectious, and without much hesitation you raise your empty shot glass in toast, “Hmm, deal! To the newest frat sweetheart! How hard can it be?”

---

The consequences aren’t half as fun as the chaos.

Wincing at the dull ache reverberating in your head, you struggle to make sense of your surroundings in the dim lighting. Still disoriented and bleary-eyed, you sink into soft navy bed sheets.

Ah, soft. So soft. Warm, with a tinge of candied apples.

Satoru.

Slight panic setting in, and Satoru’s room swaying ever-so-slightly, you try to will away the overplayed pop pounding from the party still raging below - focusing on the whispered conversation at the foot of the bed..

“---blast at the party------”

“------frat---sweetheart.”

Head snapping up in a daze, the word “sweetheart” echoes in your ears.

Something heated and prickly pools in your stomach as fragments of memories from not too long ago begin to piece themselves together.

Your dawning realization - and sense of impending doom - is interrupted by a soft hum of delight

“Well, well, look who’s finally awake - our dear sweetheart.” Satoru teases, while Suguru, with his arms crossed, chuckles.

Liquor suddenly nowhere on your mind, your heart races - something about the suggestive gleam in their eyes doesn’t exactly ease your nerves. Your cheeks flare, the room feels suddenly smaller, the air thicker.

You sit up, rubbing your temples, and the two of them exchange loaded glances that send shivers creeping down your spine.

Satoru pushes himself off the wall with a devious smirk, taking a deliberate step closer. “How’s our sweetheart feeling? You knocked out for a good hour or two, y’know. Was almost worried you’d miss the initiation~”

“What the fuck did I agree to?” you mutter to yourself. Yet, Suguru answers anyway, his voice a dangerous purr, “Just a little test of courage, darling. But don’t you worry; we’ll take very good care of you.”

Satoru nods, his gaze intense. “It’s all in good fun, princess. You’ll see.” His warm breath grazes your face as they tower over you, inching closer and closer. “Now, you wouldn’t go back on your word, would you?”

Goosebumps erupt along your shoulders at the proximity - and the realization - all the way down to where your thighs were desperately squeezing together. Shit.

Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru. It was hard to be best friends with them for years and not hear about the whispered rumors of how they were in bed. Enough to send a woman to heaven - or the hospital - they said. And you couldn’t deny that ugly little part of you that was sinfully curious.

A beat passes in the suddenly charged air. As if they were waiting. Studying your reaction - like predators stalking their cornered prey. Will you run away? Will you fight? Will you submit to them completely?

The room is silent, except for the distant thump of the music below, seemingly miles away.

One. Two

Finally - not trusting yourself to speak - you manage a nod.

Darkened blue eyes meet Suguru’s half-lidded ones, a silent understanding passing between them before resting on you - splayed out on the bed and tight dress hiking up so enticingly.

Oh.

Oh, shit. You were in for it.

Without warning, Satoru surges forward, lips catching yours in a bruising kiss. You whine against his soft lips, the distinct taste of Baileys and Satoru completely filling your senses - you almost don’t register the slow, purposeful trail of kisses Suguru leaves down your heated neck. Almost.

Skin searing where his lips linger along your jawline, Suguru murmurs, vibrations sending a jolt of electricity right to your core. “Shhh, relax, darling. We’ll take care of everything.”

Maybe it was the way Suguru’s words were dripping in lust and something dangerous, tongue darting out to lick a long, sensual stripe up your neck.

Or maybe it was the way Satoru was sloppily licking at your lips, thumb pushing your chin down to suck on your tongue with his candy lips. But the room was spinning - and this time, it wasn’t the alcohol.

“T-Toru- Sugu-” a muffled whine you barely even recognize rips from the back of your throat - and it was like something snapped. Maybe their restraint, maybe their sanity - definitely you by the end of this.

A hand hot on your thigh - Suguru’s or Satoru’s? You don’t have the time to wonder, the sequins hit the ground before you even realize what is happening.

Skin-tight dress now in tatters on Satoru’s carpeted floor, you shudder as the cold air hits your heated skin. Large hands everywhere. Cupping your ass, tweaking your hardened nipples through your bra. Leaving your underwear in such a disarray as if it killed them to see you clothed.

“Shit. Suguru, look at this.” Satoru’s groans lowly, predatory gaze transfixed on the sight of your dripping cunt..

“Oh fuck, darling. Were you all ready and expecting this, hm? Our perfect lil’ slut.” Suguru’s smiles sinfully as he looms closer, a long finger playing teasingly with the thin fabric of your now-soaked panties.

You buck your hips, desperate for more fiction, as a manicured nail lightly grazes your swollen folds. Shit, and you thought Suguru would be the nicer of the two. “Please, Sugu.”

“Now now. Behave, darling. Wouldn’t want to get off on a wrong start to the initiation.” Suguru hums, pulling off your panties completely as Satoru’s iron-hold grip on your hips pin you helplessly to the bed. You struggle pathetically, leaking pussy aching for more more more.

And Satoru - your ever-merciful Satoru - listens to your desperate keens. Because, agonizingly slow, he drops to his knees, eye-level with your quivering pussy.

“I’ll be taking this as payment, princess.” he hums, hot breath hitting your cunt in a way that almost makes you miss the way he snatches your wet panties right out of Suguru’s hands. As if a prize to be won.

Your face burns at the humiliation - or maybe at the way strong hands wrestle your thighs open. You gasp at the burn of the stretch, tense air grazing your throbbing clit as Suguru lets out a low whistle in appreciation.

You were so exposed. So vulnerable. And these fuckers hadn’t even taken off their goddamn shirts yet.

Mouth opening to retort - or maybe beg for an ounce of friction, just anything that would-

Bang!

Dazed, you whirl your head towards where the door had now slammed open. In your lust-induced haze, you barely register the notion that someone else was going to see you so spread so shamefully and dripping all over Satoru’s sheets. Ah, they were going to scream. They were going to run away-

“Aww, already started without me?” a deep voice rumbles, raspy, dangerous. “Shit, these two brats weren’t kiddin’, you’re such a doll, aren’t you?”

Satoru’s smirk grows at the slick pooling at your core as you make out just who it was that stood so imposingly at the door.

Toji Fushiguro.

Someone you’d heard of more than you’d seen - for several reasons. Known around campus as the long-standing supervisor for Jujutsu Phi, but known more popularly amongst students as the man with a dick to die for.

The shutting of the heavy wooden door reverberates across the electrifying air inside. Your mouth drops into a soft oh as you spot the rock-hard cock straining furiously against Toji’s trousers, a dark patch of precum already pooling at the tip.

Oh. No wonder they say his dick can split you in half.

Eyes following his every purposeful step towards the bed, you absent-mindedly wonder whether your best friends were hiding a matching achingly hard cocks.

“Oh, fuck yes. Such a pretty pussy.” Toji appraises your cunt, greedily eyeing the way your walls flutter around nothing, slick pooling where Satoru was but a few inches away from where you needed him the most.

“Yo, old man. Catch.” Satoru’s voice rings in the loaded air. Muscled arms flexing, Toji easily catches the flimsy piece of fabric thrown at him, a lecherous smile growing as he realizes what it is. “M’gonna have a lot of fun with you, doll.”

“Don’t count us out now, Toji. I’ll be making sure she’s absolutely ruined.” Suguru’s slow, sinful drawl has your head spinning.

Probably for the first time in his life, Satoru doesn’t speak.

Instead, he dives nose-deep in your cunt. Pretty ruby lips meeting your swollen ones, urgently lapping up your sweet juices, as if a man dying of thirst.

“Hah- Oh! Toru!” you whine, hips bucking up into his hot tongue as he bullies past your folds and into your quivering entrance, hurried yet methodical. You could feel Satoru’s lips curling at the lewd whimpers ripping from your throat. Bruising grip on your hips pulling you impossibly deeper onto his greedy tongue.

He wastes no time - stretching you out on his tongue so sinfully, dipping in and out of your dripping hole at a merciless pace. In and out in and out in and-

“Hope you didn’t forget us, darling. I’d be heartbroken.” Suguru’s mocking words ring in your ears. Not completely present with Satoru’s dizzying abuse on your cunt, you can do nothing as Suguru snakes a hand down to your heated core.

“Don’t move, doll.”

And before you know it, two more sets of hands are unforgivingly on you.

All you can do is just lay there and take it as Suguru’s cruel, slender fingers tease your folds, up and down up and down - pointedly skipping your throbbing clit. A languid, sadistic smile spreads across his face as you whine in desperation.

Where Satoru was generous and impatient, Suguru wanted to make you cry. How could you ever have thought he’d be the nice one?

Hasty lips are on yours now, a small scar rubbing your lips in a way that so obscenely reminded you of the tongue still ruthlessly fucking into you right now. Pulling away mere centimeters, Toji murmurs lowly, “Open your mouth.”

As if on auto-pilot, you groan as Toji's steady stream of spit hits your ready tongue. Eyes rolling to the back of your head at the warm feeling, tasting of sin and everything you shouldn’t be doing.

Thick, calloused fingers squeeze your cheeks together, his spit now drooling down the corner of your mouth. “Now, show me what those pretty lips can do.” Toji grits out.

Your eyes widen as he pulls down his pants just enough for his furiously hard cock to spring free, sculpted thighs straddling the side of your face.

Thick and unforgiving. A prominent vein twirling delicately down his monstrous length. Precum leaking onto his sculpted abdomen, dripping erotically down to mix with your soaked underwear in his veined hand gripping the base.

Nervous eyes flitting between Toji’s bulging cock in front of you, to the slick dripping down Suguru’s wrist, and Satoru’s hooded eyes, miles away, and grinning devilishly around your cunt - you’re sure of one thing - you’d be damn lucky to make it out alive.

Toji’s throbbing head pokes your kiss-bitten lips, precum salty on your tongue. He spares no mercy.

“C’mon now. If you’re actin’ like such a cockslut then learn to take it like one.” Searing grip on your hair, Toji pushes his cock all the way down your ready throat, using your mouth as if it was nothing more than his favorite fucktoy. Maybe you’ll become his favorite fucktoy.

Your pathetic, wet gurgles mix with the lewd squelches of your cunt as Toji’s heavy balls hit your chin. Fat head hitting the back of your throat and your nose pressed into the tufts of thick, black hair at his pelvis. “Mmm fuck yeah.” he groans, thick fingers pressing around your neck to feel his dick down your throat.

Drawing low hisses as you tongue at his slit, you breath in the heady scent of Toji and you on your panties and Toji-

“Look s’pretty gagging on his cock, darling.” Suguru’s voice is still silken smooth, mockingly pressing a kiss to your cheek. Pooling the trail of spit and precum on his tongue, before licking a long, languid stripe.

“F-fucking freak.” Toji huffs out a laugh, relishing the way you moan so lewdly around his cock. “Oh? You like that, doll? Little slut, aren’t ya?”

A dangerous chuckle, and he’s thrusting animalistically into your poor, pretty mouth. Balls tightening each time his thick cock disappears into your mouth, lips stretching almost-painfully to accommodate him. Toji’s hand closes tighter around your throat, blocking your airway. Making you choke and gasp for air around his cock, blood roaring in your ears.

Shit, he was going to break you.

Suguru’s clever mouth was on your aching tits now, jolts of electricity going straight to your cunt as he tweaks and teases your hardened nipples. Thumb rubbing harshly over your sensitive tip the way he wouldn’t with your clit. Over and over-

“Suguru, gimme the bra.” you whine, hips bucking as Satoru’s muffled words send vibrations exactly where you wanted.

In a flash, your bra is unclasped and thrown to Satoru. Wrapping it around one large hand, it disappears where you cannot see. Yet the jerky, impatient movements of his hand below - up, up, up - and down have your walls clamping down desperately on Satoru’s tongue.

Ah, he looked so pretty when he was shut up with his mouth full of your dripping cunt. Fucked out whimpers leave Satoru’s throat at each flick of his tongue, fucking your pretty pussy with his mouth till you felt raw.

Suguru - the ever-graceful Suguru - had his brows furrowed desperately. Lips messy with spit as he bites and teases your nipples hard, making you cry out in wet, little gurgles that muffle around the throbbing erection in your mouth, fucking into you with reckless abandon. Toji’s heavy balls stinging your face as he bottoms out with each harsh shove down your throat.

He didn’t care if you could breathe - as long as you sucked the ever-loving soul out of him.

The heady air is urgent now. Hasty movements now becoming more and more frenzied. Mindless with lust. Filthy. Debauched. It was so fucking sinful.

So it only made sense that your orgasm was the same.

You see white as you cum - or maybe that was the hot, thick ropes of seed that Toji painted your face with. Moans muffled and hips bucking deliriously, you moan breathlessly as neither of the three men give up their relentless abuse.

Your head shot up blindly in pleasure, sharp teeth digging into your shoulder - hard enough to break skin. Suguru.

Wrestled down onto the bed by three sets of strong arms still groping the expanse of your body, you ride out your white-hot high on the taste of Toji slipping down your throat, Satoru’s still merciless tongue, and Suguru’s index finally pressing down on your throbbing clit. Hard.

Blood roaring in your ears, your vision blurs as you sink into the mattress. You think you’re in heaven, and it was only fitting that these demons with angelic faces were the first things that you see there.

“You alright, darling? Can’t have you go passing out on us mid-initiation, now.” Suguru tuts, sharing a glance with Satoru, who was absolutely dripping in satisfaction - and your slick, prettily glossing his lips and nose.

“Mmm- s’fucked out. Ah-” Your violent climax leaves you limp, and you feel like a fucking ragdoll with the way Suguru wraps a steady arm around your waist, pulling you impossibly close against him. You whine as your stinging tits meet his toned body, sticky with the heat of the room. When did he even take his shirt off?

Satoru isn’t too far behind, with little care for the buttons flinging across the room as he rips his shirt open - creamy chest peeking out in all its chiseled glory. Shit.

You almost miss the bed shifting as Toji sits on the edge, watching the three of you with greedy eyes as he fists his cum-covered cock with your panties. Teasing, purposeful movements up his length.

Suguru’s hand stroking your face, Satoru’s on your hips.

“After all that princess, you deserve a little treat.” Satoru purrs lowly, lips glistening with your juices and breath hot against your ear. Shivers run along your spine - right down to where he was groping and playfully swatting your ass. Darkened eyes narrowed at the way it jiggled against his large hands.

“T-treat? Wha-”

Your disoriented stammers are stuck in your throat as Suguru shoves two long fingers into your mouth. Whatever moans leaving your lips are choked and muffled as he forces you to taste yourself.

Fingers intertwining with your tongue, you’re delirious with the want for more more more - and evidently, Suguru is too, throbbing and leaking with need as he pushes his soiled boxers down. Something cold makes you flinch as your quivering thigh grazes his clothed erection.

Oh. Who knew your best friend had a dick piercing?

“Fuck, darling. Really should’ve done this sooner.” he murmurs, voice thick with lust and more to himself than you. “Mhm. You don’t know how hard it was to not bend you over and stuff you till you can’t speak, princess~” a whisper from behind you - Satoru.

Before you know it, Satoru’s lips find yours in a fiery kiss amidst it all. As if he couldn’t get enough of the sweet taste of your cunt - and probably never will.

Suguru is languid and unhurried where Satoru is impatient and starved, rutting desperately against your ass.

Every twirl of Suguru’s finger is deliberate, leaving a trail of lingering electricity in its wake. And with searing passion, Satoru’s tongue tastes you in all the ways he possibly could. The three of you tangled in an unholy act.

Fuck, it was messy. So fucking messy.

Delicate strings of saliva and slick connecting you to the two as drool drips down the corner of your mouth, eyes scrunched closed at the sinful pleasure.

“Fucking freaks.” Toji spits out, eyeing Satoru’s fingers inching closer and closer to your ass, deftly prodding at your quivering entrance. Yet, his movements only grow more urgent, fucking his fist in desperate need to cum - to cum all over you once more.

Satoru pulls away, and you shiver at the cold feeling of his saliva hitting your rim. Once. Twice. Thrice just to watch the way your hole quivers so obscenely for him.

In the haze of the pure want of the three men around you, it slowly dawns on you that they won’t stop until they’ve fucked you half to death. And you cunt clenches in anticipation.

Maybe you really were a little slut.

Suguru only has his flushed tip kissing your folds, but you already feel so fucking full. Maybe it was the way Satoru was now bullying long, pale fingers through that first, tight little circle of muscle. Scissoring you open, hooking a thumb to stretch your slutty hole till he was more than satisfied.

Through the corner of your eye, you watch Toji. Eyes half-lidded, gaze locked with yours, and looming closer towards you.

Before you knew it, a rough hand grasps yours, wrapping so daintily around Toji’s fat, leaking tip. Guiding your hand, thumbing his slit to pull his dick in harsh, mindless pulls to get off. It has your sensitive cunt so heated and dripping, slick trailing down your shaky legs.

“Suguru, think our little sweetheart is ready? Don’t think I can hold back any longer, all her pretty holes are begging me to fuck her.”

You weren’t going to make it out alive. Maybe you didn’t want to.

He doesn’t wait for a response. Your surprised yelps are gagged on Suguru’s fingers as Satoru sheaths himself in your ready hole. A low groan ripping from his throat as you clamp down on him, struggling to bear with the delicious stretch. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, despite the panic setting in, as he pushes deeper and deeper. Inch by inch. “Fuck s’tight. So tight, princess.”

Was he even halfway in? He had to be, right?

Arm now burning with the feeling of Toji fucking his throbbing erection into your fist, you risk a glance behind you, catching a glimpse of the deliciously flushed cock pressing into you. Long, pale, so pretty - so Satoru.

Chuckling at the dilemma on your face, Suguru hums. “Now, Satoru. That hardly seems fair. Don’t be greedy.” And at that last word, Suguru’s leaking tip pushes past your entrance - thick , with a long vein running down the middle, cold metal of his piercing making your walls twitch - grunting at the resistance that came with being so fucking full from both ends.

“Just getting to fucking her already. Look at the pretty doll, so eager to please. She’s begging for it.” you moan at Toji’s impatient comment, his precum coating your hand a pretty gloss. You’re fucking yourself in mindless, shallow, bounces that have you split open on both throbbing cocks.

Satoru’s hand snaking down to wildly draw circles on your clit, jolting at the overstimulation, whine deliriously as both Satoru and Suguru bottom out inside of you.

Deep moans bouncing off the walls - tight, so tight. You were going to make them pass out. Or worse, cum before you.

“S’alright hah- Fuck!” Suguru can barely get the words out, you’ve never seen Suguru - all grace and poise - lose his composure like this. A slave to desire. And if Suguru was losing control then Satoru was on the edge of absolute insanity, darkened eyes blown-out and short, broken whines leaving his mouth at each breath.

You, on the other hand, have never felt more awake.

“Oh- oh fuck. Can’t- Too much. Hngh-” Raspy moans ripping from your throat at each little movement, hips moving in a mindless tandem with your best friends’ as they start thrusting in slow, experimental thrusts.

You felt so unforgivingly full - organs secondary to the cocks splitting you apart till you could barely form sentences.

Filthy. Fucking filthy.

And the only place you wanted to be right now.

Pulse banging against your throat, sight spotty, you don’t even know if what you’re feeling is pain or pleasure. Head only full of Satoru and Suguru and Toji and Satoru and-

“Awww, look at her- hah- Cock-drunk little whore can’t even speak.”

Bruised tits bouncing as Suguru and Satoru move in sync, fucked-out, animalistic ramming of their cocks into your stretched out little pussy. Delicate tears stream down your face. Your pace on Toji’s twitching dick now jerky, desperate movements to keep your sanity. “Jus’ like that, doll. Yeah-”

You could feel the burning stretch as their throbbing cocks rubbed against each other through your walls. Balls smacking against your stinging skin and their prominent veins massaging your snug cunt just right. The slapping of skin and Toji’s squelching have your head spinning.

A wolfish bite on your exposed neck - Satoru - as he tried to keep himself together. Arching you deeper into him, thrusts stemming from a carnal, depraved part of him. Faster.

“Oh. So good, princess. Hole sucking me in so good. Ah- fuck. Could do this for the rest of my life.”

“Nasty girl. You love this, don’t you?” Suguru purrs, amusement evident in his tone.

“Y-yes! Love it! Love it Sugu- Toru-”

With a harsh slap to your clit, both men speed up their pace in your sloppy holes. Relishing in the precum and slick dripping down their sensitive lengths, and the creamy rings forming around their bases.

More. More. More more more more-

This orgasm is more obscene than the last. Supported by Suguru and Satoru’s strong arms, spread open and stuffed so shamefully by their throbbing erections. Your head is thrown back, voice-shot as broken moans leave your swollen lips. Fist moving in a mindless rhythm - no reason or rhyme.

“F-fuck, darling. Gonna-”

All it takes are your half-lucid, fucked out mewls, walls wrestling with the effort to clench around them, for Suguru and Satoru to slam into you purposefully. Once. Twice. Before spilling into you in unison.

“Hngh- M’cumming. Oh, god m’cumming, princess. Ah! Milking me so good.”

Thick, hot ropes of cum that fill your snug holes. You could feel your stomach inflating, enough to make you feel like you’ll explode.

Cock-drunk, you’re dead weight in their arms as Suguru and Satoru moan in relief, riding out their highs. Endless spurts of their seed splashing into you. It dribbles out of your overfilled cunt and ass, soiling the wet bed sheets beneath you.

Soaked in their cum, barely conscious, body aching all over. Ah, this was heaven.

“Switch. Wanna cum in her pretty hole.”

You jolt as Satoru snarks under his breath, pulling out his still-hard head with a lewd pop! A wave of his hot cum gushing out of your abused hole, pooling so sinfully beneath you.

Your knees buckle, brain not catching up yet. Too fucked out, your ready ass barely resists as Toji presses his rock-hard tip inside, pulsing with need.

“Yeah, that’s right. Take it.” Grunting lowly, veins popping out as his thick cum spurts uncontrollably from his twitching cock. Once. Twice. Thrice. Missing your hole slightly, splattering on your ass. Pushing his leaking head inside in desperate, shallow thrusts. He just needed it inside you.

Slowing to a stop, “Now, what do you say?”

“Th-thank you, daddy.”

Vision blacking, you barely even register the words. It’s all that is muttered out before Toji pulls out in one, fluid motion and you’re thrown around like a ragdoll. Suguru’s hand firmly pinning yours behind your back, glistening cock still in you, legs spread sinfully open.

He licks a long stripe down your cheek, your tears salty on his tongue. “Don’t think the initiation’s done yet, darling.”

Cum leaking helplessly out of you, Satoru’s hungry gaze - blue eyes barely recognizable - meets yours. “Oh, fuck. Just look at you princess. So defiled. Makes me wanna eat out all the cum inside you before pumping you full of mine again.”

“Don’t cream yourself just yet, Satoru. I think we’re about to have another initiation coordinator.”

What?

Sure enough, distant footsteps steadily approach. Growing louder with each passing second, thick with anticipation.

Closer. And closer.

The door is suddenly thrown open, light filtering in through the door, illuminating the stern figure standing in the doorway.

Nanami Kento.

The frat treasurer, infamous as the devastatingly handsome impersonation of a stick up one’s ass, known for rejecting any and every advance left and right.

His sharp gaze sweeps the charged room, dark eyes revealing nothing, catching on your teary, fucked out gaze, miles away. Body covered in cum and spit, marked like you were thrown to the wolves. Satoru grits his teeth with an impatient huff, looking like he’s ready to positively devour you, irritated at the interruption.

“What are you doing? This is an embarrassment to Jujutsu Phi.”

In the twinge of disappointment, you can’t help but feel a brief glimmer of hope. Ah, Nanami Kento. Maybe he will be your savior - a temporary respite from the men who seem ready to eat you alive. And won’t stop till you’re not.

“If you’re going to initiate her then show no mercy.”

The door slams behind him as he steps inside the heated hellhole. A cold shiver runs down your spine. Satoru’s burning whisper in your ear.

“Welcome to the brotherhood, sweetheart.”

A/N. Whew this turned out longer than expected. Tried a new formatting thing, how we liking it??

Plagiarism not authorized.

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specshroom · 26 days

Text

*°~There are many benefits to being a mage~°*

Includes: Fem reader x male orc, size kink, "human fetish", friends to more?

In which: Orc with a big problem confides in his mage friend who decides to help him out with a useful spell~🪄

You've been in this town for quite a while now, almost 3 years. That wasn't the original plan but It just so happened that this seaside town was more welcoming than many places you've been to on your travels. It sits at the coast of two major trade routes, connecting people of many different walks of life.

The friendliness and diversity you experienced allowed you to make a few friends you might not have otherwise.

Like the one you're sharing breakfast with right now. His name is Grimmok and he's the self-proclaimed, "Best fisherman in this damn town". He's your typical young, burley orc.

The first time you met him was in the local pub, you were intrigued when a crowd formed infront of the huge orc. He was dramatically telling one of his fisherman's tales and the small crowd hung onto his every word. He was a very good story teller and you happened to be very interested in folklore and myths. You made a habit of just walking up to him, if he didn't look busy and asking him to tell you a story. Soon it wasn't uncommon to see you sitting on the docks listening and writing intently as he waxes on about some old wives tale while repairing his nets.

Now you sit in his home, eating breakfast while he grumbles on about having to train a new fishing boy.

"The boy gets distracted by the smallest things, every time someone even resembling female walks past the docks he's panting like a dog." Grimmok bites into his ridiculously large breakfast sandwich signaling the end of his rant.

He did look more grumpy than usual when he opened the door to let you in for your weekly Sunday breakfast. His shoulder length black hair was tied into a hasty half up half down bun and his stubble looked more scruffy than usual. You can only huff in amusement at his troubles.

"Cmon, don't be too harsh on the kid. You did the same thing with Rosie Cotton, remember?"

The orc stills and huffs indignantly, scratching at his neck. This makes you grin.

"Mhm, you'd be telling me a story and then just stop in the middle of a sentence. I'd look up and sure enough there's Miss Rosie walking on by. Fiery hair flowing in the wind, cleavage spilling out her dress, swaying those hips and-"

Grimmok interrupts your overdramatic musing by flicking your pointy hat off your head.

"Hey!"

"You're acting like you didn't like looking at her too." The big guy grumbles almost like a child. He wipes his hands on his plaid pajama pants and picks up his empty plate, heading towards the sink.

You lean down to pick your hat off the floor, dust it off and mumble,

"Yeah, but I never got to bed her."

The dishes in the sink clatter a little too loudly as he tenses up. You hardly try to stifle your laugh.

"We didn't actually...she was...too small... For me to...." The orc struggles out as he wipes his plate clean.

It's quiet for a minute until you ask.

"But she did try, right? I'm pretty sure that counts, Grim."

The orc just grumbles something unintelligible. You want to sympathise with the poor guy but imagining Rosie Cotton, a "short stack" type of woman, trying to fit his massive green cock in her little pussy was pretty erotic.

"I want to feel bad for you mate but you kind of bring this on yourself. You obviously have a bit of a human fetish."

"It's not a-" The orc goes to defend himself but stops and just sighs when he realises it's no use.

"...and a size kink to boot." You mumble with toast in your mouth.

"I can't help it if I think horny humans trying desperately to take my cock is literally the hottest thing to me!" Grimmok finally lets the dam of sexual frustration burst after you've done a sufficient amount of poking at it. You always were good at getting him to actually talk about his problems.

"But the problem comes in when I actually have to fuck them, they can barely take half! How am I supposed to fuck them!? I'm too big! I'd kill them!"

You can't help but choke on your toast as a cackle forces itself from your throat. "Sorry. I'm sorry!" You struggle between snorts. Your big green friend just stands there with a grimace, arms crossed as he waits for you to finish.

You sigh and wipe your watering eyes. "Well, I'm glad you've confided in me because now I can help you." You wipe your hands clean and stand up from the orc sized table.

"You know that cool thing I can do with my hat?" You take your hat off and reach inside of it, the magic pocket space allowing you to reach your whole arm inside of it when you physically shouldn't be able to.

He nods sceptically still leaning against the sink, a bit concerned about where this is going. He thought by "help" you meant like you were going to pep talk him or something.

"We just have to do this but with...." You gesture down to your crotch.

Grim stands there, mouth slightly agape, blinking at you.

"I mean it's not exactly the same obviously." You pull your trusty spell book out of the hat before placing it back on your head while the pages of the spell book fly open to the page you want. "You basically draw this sigil on someone and then they'll be able to take whatever they can push inside no matter how big. Girth might still be an issue though..."

You explain this to him like you've explained many other spells, like you're reading him a recipe, deliberating what ingredients would work best. He doesn't even know how to react honestly.

"You're serious?"

You clap the book shut and adjust your hat on your head, smugly shrugging,

"This is what I do."

The poor guy just stumbles in disbelief.

"Magic. I mean.... magic is what I do." You correct yourself a bit awkwardly and clear your throat, regaining your confidence.

"It's a pretty easy spell so we can try this whenever you want really."

"We?"

"Well yeah, unless you want me to go up to Rosie Cotton and say "Hey love, you mind if I put this sigil on your womb so my friend can finally pound your tight lit-"

"Alright! Alright."

Grimmok rubs his face with his hands, sighing again and looking unsure. You lean against the sink next to him, barely coming up to his pecs.

"Look, it'll just be a one time thing so you can actually see if human pussy's all that and if you like it, I'm sure we can find plenty of humans who would love to try it out."

"...Alright. That sounds good."

You give a slap to his thick bicep and an encouraging "ata boy."

"and if you don't like this one, I'm sure I could find a spell that'll just make you..." He doesn't miss how you glance down at his crotch. "Smaller."

He huffs and pushes your shoulder playfully, he liked how you could always joke away the tension in any given situation. You walk up to the big wooden chair you were sitting at a second ago and pull it away from the table so that it's facing outward, struggling a bit as it's very much orc sized like most things in his house.

"Cmon. Sit."

You pat the chair, looking at him expectantly.

"Now?"

He's really not used to other people being so forward especially not when it's his mate. You shrug at him.

"Why not? I mean we can wait till you're ready, I don't mind. I have literally all day."

You put your hands behind your back and rock on your feet as you both just stand in his kitchen for about a minute...waiting. He eventually huffs and steels himself, fully committing to the idea and walking over to plop himself in the chair. He's going to put his dick inside one of his best friends.

You place your hat on the table so it doesn't get in the way of your activity and step in front of him. You levitate your spell book In front of you, looking down at the page with the sigil that's way more familiar than you're letting on.

"Okay, I'll face this way so it's less....personal." You turn around so your back is facing him. "You do still need to take off your pants though."

He smacks his teeth, "I figured that." He mumbles, pushing his soft pajama pants down to his mid thighs, immediately freeing his cock as he wasn't wearing underwear. He leaves his white long sleeve on, the sleeves folded to his elbows, giving you a perfect tease of his thick strong arms and multiple tattoos. When he looks back at you and sees that you've already disappeared your pants, he quickly looks away.

Sensing his nervousness you ask with a softer voice than before,

"can I sit?"

He clears his throat before grumbling a "Yeah."

You gently lean down and sit your naked ass onto his lap, legs open wide over his own you can see his half hard cock laying between his legs but try not to stare. Obviously Grimmock is a big guy but he's even big by orc standards so of course his cock is massive even when he isn't fully hard.

Grimmock clears his throat and jolts you out of your thoughts. You adjust a bit on top of him feeling his happy trail against your lower back. Your eyes skim the page levitating in front of you, when you finally find the incantation passage you straighten up and start chanting the ancient words in the text. Your eyes glow and the air feels static, Grim has seen magic before but the novelty never truly wears off.

An intricate shape starts to form right above your pubic bone, where your womb would be. The sigil glows brightly on your skin as Grim peers from above your head to look at it. At first glance he thinks it looks a bit demonic but then remembers he doesn't know anything about magic and decides not to mention it. When the sigil is complete you clap the book shut, immediately cutting off the static energy in the room and startling him in the process.

"That should do it."

You place the book on the table and lean back against his clothed chest, feeling the tension in his body not letting up.

"Damn, I can't believe little Miss Rosie took half of this. What a lass."

Your joke lightens the mood once again as Grimmock scoffs at you. Feeling him relax, you bring your hand down to finally touch the wetness that's been growing for awhile now. "We should still do some prep before you put it in. Is that alright?"

He nods and watches your hand disappear between your thighs. You readjust so that your boot clad feet are on either side of the chair rests. Opening yourself up to the air and to him, he can see you've already got two fingers pushing inside. He hesitates before reaching for his cock and slowly starting to stroke himself under you but it was painfully clear he was holding back.

"I know I'm not as short or.... endowed as Miss Cotton but I could put on a red wig if you'd like."

Grim huffed a laugh at the mental image of that.

"Oh wow~ Grimmie, you're soooo big and strong~"

You say in a high pitched voice (that doesn't sound anything like Rosie Cotton), using her embarrassing pet name while looking up at him and batting your eyelashes dramatically.

Grim scoffs and holds his hand over your mouth "Stop playing around." He tries to sound serious but his smile and the grumble in his chest betrays him. You laugh against his hand holding his wrist. You slowly pull his hand off your mouth and inch it gradually down your body giving him ample time to pull away. He doesn't and you move his hand to rub against your wet pussy ever so gently.

You're both looking into each other's eyes, this was not supposed to be so intimate but it doesn't look like he minds when he takes charge and slowly eases two fingers inside your aching pussy. His thick fingers stretch your pussy so good as you lightly buck into his hand, greedy pussy already hungry for more. The way he's looking down at you with so much need gets you so hot inside. A heat that only increases when he starts pumping his fingers in and out. Grim works you open with one hand and pumps his fat cock with the other.

This entire situation has you pent up and impatient so you pull his hand away and sit up, "I can take it now." He can't help but groan at your words but remains concerned at the perceived lack of prep. Whenever he fools around with humans most of the engagement is spent just doing prep so he's more than a little worried, "Are you sure?"

You don't reply as you gently take his fully hard cock from his hand, holding it up against your stomach to see how far inside you this thing could go. You both groan at the comparison between his ridiculously massive dick and your body, he reaches way past your belly button and into your stomach. Definitely more than a human could safely take. You adjust your legs so that you're almost squatting on his lap, your feet plant on the seat on either side of his hips.

You support yourself with your hand resting on the seat between his legs and lift yourself so you can rub your wetness along the length of his cock. He brings his rough hands to hold your hips gently, not applying pressure but just resting there so he can have something to hold.

You lift yourself up until his tip is in-line with your entrance, slowly rubbing it against your clit. You both groan lightly when the tip pops in and you slowly ease yourself down his cock. He's amazed at how easy your cunt swallows him. You pause half way down to adjust and give a few pumps to the rest of him before your hand leaves his cock to settle next to your other hand on the chair in front of you. He squeezes your hips a little in silent concern and you smile before easing the rest of him in, gently descending until you reach the hilt. Your pubes kiss his and he can't help but let out a weak moan at the sight and feeling of you taking all of him. Finally feeling tight walls grip the entire length of his cock has him reeling. You're overwhelmed as well, It's been a while since you've taken someone this big.

You slowly circle your hips around so that you really feel his cock against your walls deep inside you, you're obviously very pleased with yourself. Grim is seeing stars, eyes shut, head tilted back, trying to regain himself even a little while his literal dreams are coming true.

"Well, we know it works. I guess that's it then." You move to lift yourself off his cock as if your work is done.

"Nononono, Please no. Please."

Comes Grim's hasty but soft displeasure, both his thick arms circle around your waist to keep you in place as he leans against your back, head resting on your shoulder.

"What's the matter big guy?" You lean into his chest, stroke his arm and turn your head to look at him. He huffs, you know exactly what's the matter. He takes a deep breath and lifts his head to look at you.

"I need you."

Your heart jumps in your chest.

"I need you to fuck me...please"

You look up at him, wide eyes, mouth agape as he looks back down at you. The moment is almost sweet until your mouth forms into an evil grin and you snicker softly, a dreadfully familiar mischievous glint in your eyes. Grim closes his eyes and almost regrets all the choices that lead him here.

"Riiight~. I almost forgot, this is probably the first time you've actually been able to fuck someone sooo much smaller than you."

You reach down to gently hold his proportionately massive ballsack, making him suck in a breath and twitch his thighs.

"Poor guy, you must be so pent up, huh?"

All he can do is let out a choked moan of your name which only makes you chuckle.

"I can really play the part for you, if you'd like. Y'know the, "Ah, your so deep!" and "You're filling me up so good!""

You laugh when you feel his dick twitch. Poor Grim can only grip your waist and try to keep his hot face from getting hotter. He looks down at you with pleading eyes and you decide you're not so evil after all. You pat his arms and move them so he's holding your waist. He startles a little when you playfully kiss him on the cheek.

"I've got you big guy."

You lean forward again with your feet under you and start to lift yourself up very slowly until the top of his cock is juuust about to pop out. Your thighs burn as you stay there for a few seconds, teasing Grim and yourself. Grim thinks he might actually cry if you don't move.

Suddenly you grip the edge of the chair and force yourself down hard on his cock, taking him all the way to the hilt in one hard thrust. You both groan very loudly, he downright yelps with the sudden movement. You grip the chair and clench around him so hard he can't help the way he grips your waist tightly. One hand covers his mouth as he tips his head back and tries to not cum immediately. He tries to regain his breathing but you have other plans. You can feel him twitch inside you and a desperate need to be filled engulfs you.

You start thrusting up and down on his dick, moving your whole body up and down his length. It's a good thing he can't see your face because you are enjoying this way too much. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you bite your lip, the sensation of being filled to the literal brim is intoxicating. You work yourself and him so diligently, it's no time before your thrusts become more frantic and you're right at the peak. With one final deliberate thrust you cum hard around him, clenching and unclenching like you're trying to milk him dry.

You both moan freely now, though his are more like growls. Your pulsing walls quickly lead him to his own climax, holding you close to his chest and thrusting up into your cunt, spilling hot seed deep inside your womb. You shake and squirm even more with the blissful feeling of your walls being coated with his spend.

After a few moments of you two spasming and twitching you eventually ease up and fall limply against his chest, adjusting your thighs to rest on top of his again. You breathe out a long sigh and bask in the fullness of your cunt, stroking your stomach up and down.

You're blissfully unaware of the knowing smirk that grows on his face. He cards his fingers through his hair, composing himself a little more. His warm hand joins yours in caressing up and down the expanse of your stomach and chest, loving how small you feel in his hold.

"You've done this before." His voice comes out in a low growl that makes you shiver, not expecting it. You crane your head up to see him smirking down at you and all you can do is sit and stare. He chuckles deeply,

"There ain't no way, this is your first time taking a cock this size."

You stumble for words but none come out. His hands caress your thighs and one hand comes up to gently hold your jaw. He leans down really close to your face.

"You're a size queen."

You suck in a breath and your pussy clenches involuntarily around his cock which you only noticed now hasn't gone down at all. Grim laughs louder this time.

"I should've known the second you pulled out that spellbook."

You sit there, quite embarrassed at being caught. You smack his hand away from your waist.

"Shut up, you're the one with the-"

"Yes, we both know about my kinks, you teased me about it enough which is very hypocritical of you."

Grim is just loving the way you fluster and fumble for words right now.

"Oh, so you don't have a thing for inhumanly huge cock?"

He challenges and uses both his hands to bring your naked thighs to your chest, exposing your pussy, leaking with his seed.

"So you don't like the way I stretch and fill this little human pussy?"

You can't help but whine at his dirty words and the position he's binding you into. His cock adjusting inside of you, hitting a new spot.

"If you don't, I guess I could just pull out and-"

"Nonononono... Grim Cmon."

You frantically babble your disagreement, shaking your head. He chuckles again, very pleased with himself at turning the tables on you but thankfully for you he's not as evil as you are and his dick is still painfully hard.

"Alright Darlin, I'll take care of you."

He lifts himself from the chair, leaving a puddle of both of you when he stands. He comforts your whines when he pulls out to set you ass up on the table and just stands at the edge, one hand on his hip and the other leisurely stroking his cock.

You look back at him with confusion, expecting him to just fuck you over the table already.

"If you ask nicely."

He says looking real smug, you sigh in defeat and turn your body so that you're facing him. You disappear the rest of your clothes, leaving you stark naked on the large kitchen table you were just eating breakfast at. That realisation makes him pump his cock harder.

You press your knees as close to your chest as possible and bring your hands down to your puffy, leaking pussy. You spread your folds for him with your fingers and say, as sexily as you can manage.

"Please fuck me Grim."

Grim is so fucking floored, he's cursing himself for not thinking of doing this sooner. He sighs and pumps his cock harder, lining the leaking tip up to your pussy lips. He eases it inside and the new position makes for a new sensation for both of you as different spots are brushed and tension melts away. Once he's balls deep again he gently worms his arm underneath your back to lift you up with ease. You wrap your arms around his neck for support being mindful not to pull his hair. Suddenly you're face to face, looking into his eyes for the first time since you started.

You look into his dark eyes and they relax you, this is your best friend, you trust him. His eyes leave yours to stare at your parted lips. When he sees that familiar quirk on your lips he looks back to your eyes, catching the mischievous glint. You lean closer so that your noses are just brushing against eachother. You feel his breath hitch when your lips meet his. He spares no time getting into it and moves his lips against yours. You make out while he adjusts your body in his hold, one hand on your ass and the other on your waist.

He then, without warning, lifts you up and brings you down hard thrusting the whole length of his cock into you in one hearty thrust. You break from the sloppy kiss for a moment to groan out in absolute ecstasy, loving the way he takes the lead from you effortlessly. He brings down your whole body to meet his upwards thrusts. The way he's basically using your entire body like a fleshlight makes you embarrassingly horny.

It feels like it's been years since you were fucked like this, the way your body is reacting, so sensitive you're sure you could cum again any minute. This is exasperated greatly when he brings you closer to his chest with one arm locked around you so that he can worm his other hand in-between you two and rub at your engorged clit.

You grab at his wrist as he frantically works you to your climax, you basically scream when you finally reach that high. Clenching and shaking on his cock while he holds you up with his buff arms. You cling into him so tightly, getting drool on his shirt. You even squirt a little, getting your wetness all over his cock and the floor. Your intense climax once again has him reeling. The sight of you clinging onto him, squirting and losing yourself on his cock makes his balls clench painfully as his frantic thrusts turn faster and sloppier. He reaches his climax as he holds you close, groaning into your neck, pumping another thick load deep into you.

You both stay like that for a while, coming down from your respective highs. Your fingers slowly unclench from his shirt moving down to lazily caress his chest, feeling it move with his breaths as you rest your head on his shoulder.

He slowly manoeuvres your legs so he can sit back down on the chair, holding you to his chest. His hand strokes down your back as you both soak in the warm, tranquil after glow. His breathing evens out to a steady rhythm and your eyes flutter closed.

Knock knock knock

You both jolt awake and stare at each other wide eyed and then at the front door, which is very much visible from the kitchen. You both stay quiet and he holds you closer to hide your fully naked body if the rude intruder somehow manages to break the door down.

Knock knock knock

"Uhh Mr Grimmock Sir?"

The tension in Grim's body sags when he hears who's on the other side of the door. A hand goes to massage his impending migraine.

"BOY! What do you want?!"

You can imagine the way the poor fishing boy cringes at the anger in Grim's voice.

"Sorry Sir, I was wondering if you could give me some extra lessons on the boat?"

Grim growls in frustration, you chuckle in amusement and start kissing up his neck which settles him down a little.

"Tomorrow lad, it's Sunday."

"But I was-"

"Tomorrow."

The finality in his tone seems to get through to the young man as he mutters an "Alright Sir, see you then." Before walking off, his steps getting lighter and lighter.

"He doesn't want to work all week but suddenly he wants to work on Sunday?!"

Grim's irritation is clear as he gestures to the door incredulously. You can't help but laugh at the orcs misfortune. You settle your arms around his broad shoulders, one hand playing with his hair as his hand begins to stroke down your back again.

"Thank you for...helping out"

He says, quite genuinely.

"Anytime."

You throw him a thumbs up and he has to laugh and shake his head at the award winning nonchalance. When the amusement fades though he leans forward in the chair and brings his hands lower to cup your ass cheeks.

"Anytime?"

You can feel his soft cock gradually hardening inside your pussy and you look up at him in utter disbelief.

"Unbelievable."

You shake your head and chastise him but the smile that breaks on your face rats you put. He grins and lifts you up, walking out of the kitchen. His mouth marks up your neck and his stubble tickles, dull tusks dig into the sensitive skin.

"Just unbelievable."

You mutter to yourself again as your legs hug around his waist tighter and you feel his cum dripping out of your hole, leaving a trail all the way to his bedroom.

#monsterfucker #I'm thinking of making this mage character a recurring character where I basically write about her smutty monster adventures 👀👀👀#monster x human #monster fucker #monster boyfriend #monster lover #monster x reader #monster writing #orc x reader #orc x human #nsft writing #terato #teratophillia

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 22 days

Text

we can dip if you’re ready ; satoru gojo

synopsis; your dreams of a peaceful summer are rudely shattered by the presence of your best friend’s older brother; the same brother who rejected you five years ago. the same brother you’re still hopelessly, uselessly in love with.

word count; 7.4k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, best friend’s brother!gojo (he’s the hottest man in the stratosphere), mild age gap (four years!), unrequited love, but with a hopeful ending kind of, bittersweet fluff, mostly summer shenanigans and pining, riko is satoru’s younger sister and i would give her the stars, sugu makes a guest appearance, (they’re both just there to bully gojo), he’s fairly mature in this i think, reader is very stubborn and very down bad, [name] is used exactly once

a/n; personally i would let him use me as workout gear (tagging @teddybeartoji @dollsuguru @hayakawalove @stellamancer @vagabond-umlaut !! tysm for the help and encouragement ily 🥺🥺)

one mellow summer morning, over a breakfast of pancake and toast, the puppy-love you’ve nurtured for the past three years finally reaches its conclusion.

you’re seventeen years old. in three months you’ll be eighteen, standing on your own two feet, headed in a new direction — the whole world within your reach. but right now you’re still only seventeen, and lovesick, and sleeping on a mattress in your best friend’s room. listening to the sound of the nearby sea.

you’re seventeen, and dreaming about things you can’t have. you’re seventeen, and wearing your heart on your sleeve.

you’re seventeen, and hopelessly, uselessly in love with a certain satoru gojo.

it’s early. your veins are sleepy and your heart is heavy, and you wake up at the crack of dawn just to catch a glimpse of him before he leaves for work. he’s leaning against the kitchen island when you trot down the stairs, and the smell of syrupy pancakes hangs heavy in the air; his bare chest is exposed, his pajama pants cling to the curve of his hips, and he rejects you with an easygoing kindness you wish he wouldn’t grant you.

suddenly, without mercy. a finality to his voice.

”you’re more like a younger sibling to me. you understand, right?”

he ruffles your hair, and you’re still sleepy, and you wish you could grasp the strings of your heartbeat to stop it from fluttering like this. wish you could pull yourself out of whatever trance he put you in, three years ago, when you stumbled over the threshold to your best friend’s house and crashed headfirst into his chest.

”you’re a good kid,” he says, and his smile teeters on the edge of something apologetic. mostly, it’s pitying. ”there are lots of people out there for you.”

he ruffles your hair, as affectionate as ever, the same as it’s always been. not a trace of any romantic intent. the weight of his palm on your head is usually a comfort, but like this?

it’s a specific kind of torture.

there are lots of people out there for you.

(i know, you want to tell him, but your voice is raspy and your throat feels sort of dry. i know.

but i want you.)

“don’t get hung up on a schoolgirl crush, hm?”

when you finally raise your head, satoru is looking right at you. kindly, patiently, like a benevolent god. his blue eyes flecked with dots of white, like fluffy clouds on a summer sky. tilting his head to the right, as if searching for confirmation, waiting for your response. you muster up the will to nod; smiling in a way that must seem pitiful.

but he just pinches your cheek, throws his backpack over his broad shoulders, and asks you to let his sister know he’ll be home later than usual today.

then he leaves. he leaves you alone with two plates of sugary pancakes on the kitchen table, one for you and one for riko. he put whipped cream on top, and chocolate chips in the batter. it smells good. it smells like an apology.

and that’s how it ends.

there’s no great climax, no real resolution. you bite down on your lip, and spend about an hour pitifully sniffling into a fluffy pillow, even though none of it comes as a surprise. it still hurts, though. your best friend comforts you, tells you that at least you have some kind of closure now — an absolute rejection to make your feelings go away. about time, she thinks, though she’s far too kind to say it outloud.

except they don’t.

the moral of the story is; satoru gojo doesn’t love you back. he’s known you since you were fourteen, since he was eighteen, and he could never see you as anything more than a little kid. you’re his sister’s best friend, and he loves you, but not in the way you love him. it’s not surprising, or shocking. it’s exactly how it should be.

satoru gojo doesn’t love you back. he never will.

(you really, really wish your stupid heartbeat cared.)

one mellow summer evening, five years later — you step onto a bustling train platform, dragging your luggage behind you, and breathe in the scent of a familiar seaside.

above you, seagulls chatter and cry. you look around, and everything feels familiar, despite the time that’s passed since the last summer you visited. the same flowers; peach blossoms and hydrangeas and tulips in all kinds of shades. the same street vendors and aroma of freshly grilled fish. the same cute and quaint port town, quiet during winter and autumn, pleasantly noisy during the warmer seasons. right now, on the cusp of june, there are enough tourists around to make finding the right face in the crowd a difficult task.

luckily, she’s quick to find you.

with her long, dark locks of hair, neatly braided; her yellow sundress and matching headband, sunflowers embroidered into the fabric. barreling towards you with a speed that would scare you a little if you weren’t so used to it, so used to her.

riko. your one and only best friend.

she’s nestled into your embrace before you can get any greetings out, and squeezing you so tightly that you have no choice but to let her beat you to it. she’s warm, like a bundle of sunshine. the same as always.

with a low whine of your name, she nuzzles into your chest. “i missed youuuu…”

a chuckle bubbles up in your throat. and even though it hasn’t been very long at all, even though you talk on the phone almost every day and saw each other in person just about a month ago, you indulge her.

“i missed you too, riko.”

another whine, and then she’s pulling back. squishing your cheeks together and pouting petulantly. “you better have! don’t ever make me spend summer all alone again, okay?”

you match her expression, eager to protest. “you’re still mad about that? it’s not my fault i got sick.”

“too sick to see your best friend? too sick to continue our most important tradition?” she shakes her head, letting go of you. struggling not to smile. “awful. just awful!”

“drama queen.” her lips break out into a grin, and yours follow. “i’m here now, aren’t i?”

“you are,” she agrees, quick to link her arm with yours. you follow her steps, leading you towards that familiar house. you can see it from here, a roof burdened with morning glories, those expensive white walls. “no, but seriously. i’m really happy to see you.” her voice drips with joy, giddy and sweet. “i don’t think i’d survive two months alone with that old man.”

ah. right.

your lips curl up into a smile, albeit a little uncertain. giddy, maybe. nervous? you aren’t sure. something swirls around in your stomach, little butterflies. tickling the ridges of your ribs, all those fluttering heartstrings. it’s been a while since you felt like this. all your summers are spent here, and all of riko’s, but he’s usually too busy.

the girl on your right chatters on and on, clinging to you, gradually melting away your skittish nerves. she tells you about her morning, what she ate for breakfast, the new show she’s been binging — it’s just as familiar as the house that soon comes fully into view. big and expensive, but still cozy, overgrown with flora. you don’t think either of the siblings really bother to take care of it, but it’s a pretty kind of neglect. a cute veranda, a beautiful garden. the apple tree you used to climb. the buzz of an old radio spills out from an opened window, translucent curtains swaying with the breeze. when you strain your eyes you think you hear humming.

riko grins, dragging you with her through the opened gate. the yellow paint on the fence is starting to peel, and someone from inside has started pushing the door open, and the butterflies in your stomach can do nothing but sputter and squirm.

it’s summer, and you're back. back in that cute, quaint port town.

(and so is he.)

“why, hello there! if it isn’t my cute little [name].”

time stills, for just a single moment.

he looks the same as you remember. a little taller, you think, but he was always tall enough to tower over you; broad shoulders and long legs, sharp blue eyes gazing down at you. he’s wearing black shades, but you can still feel the weight of his pupils, crumble under the knowledge that his attention is entirely on you. wearing a pair of sweatpants and a tight black shirt, showing off every dip and ridge of his chest.

a pleasantly cool breeze ruffles his white hair, short and trimmed, healthy locks to match his bright and sunny grin.

he looks happy to see you.

“don’t be weird,” comes riko’s voice, breaking you out of your little spell. all while she’s ushering you both towards the door, beyond the threshold, into the hallway. satoru clicks his tongue.

“so hostile today. shouldn't you be in a good mood?”

then he’s turning towards you, again, tilting his head just enough for his eyes to peek out. they’re crinkled at the edges, and his smile is fond. “how was your trip?”

more butterflies. his voice flows from his glossy lips, smooth and melted, pleasantly deep. you can only hang on to riko’s arm, mustering a small smile of your own.

“good,” you chirp. a little stiff, but polite, like you’re greeting an old friend; it’s been so long since you last spoke to him. ”i’m tired, though.”

your reply is met with a chuckle, a raspy tremor of his vocal cords. it sends a shiver down your spine. the weight on your arm disappears, as riko stumbles forward and kicks her sandals off. muttering something about gum getting stuck on the sole. you’re left standing right across from satoru, suddenly very aware of how much space he takes up all on his own. leaning against the wall, making himself comfortable. and chuckling, with that stupidly sexy voice. “i bet. take a nap if you need to, yeah?”

a moment of silence. riko curses in the background, and you shift from foot to foot. unable to properly look into his eyes.

for a second, his smile drops — eyes obscured by the black glass of his frames, betraying no emotion. it only lasts a second.

then he’s moving forward, one large stride towards you, leaning down to wrap his big arms around your waist. bringing you into a hug, not as tight as you remember them being. you wonder if he’s holding back.

(his touch burns your skin, all the same.)

one of his palms finds solace on the top of your head, ruffling your hair. you can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks, terribly sincere.

“i missed you, kiddo.”

a quiet squeak tumbles from your lips, and you pray to every god you can think of that he doesn’t hear it. his chest is pressed right against you, firm, radiating body heat. his limbs wrap you up in it, a cocoon of warmth that makes it hard to breathe. you can smell his cologne from where your cheek meets his collarbone; sandalwood invading your senses.

“i m-missed you too,” is all you can croak out, voice breaking pitifully. at this rate you might actually faint.

just out of view, riko narrows her eyes. before you can plead for help, she’s tugging you away from the embrace, pushing her brother away, and you inhale as much of the fresh summer air as you can.

“alright, that’s enough,” she huffs, pulling you closer. “c’mon! we should unpack your stuff right away!”

“want me to carry it?” satoru asks, already eyeing your luggage like a predator about to lunge at his prey. even if you say no, you know he’s not going to listen.

so you let him. and within the next few minutes, you’re seated on riko’s bed, suitcase on the floor, a glass of lemonade in your hand. blinking sluggishly.

“are you sure you’ll be alright?”

you raise your head. your best friend is looking at you with a questioning glance, head tilted and brows furrowed. now you’re all alone, and it’s quiet, peaceful. her brother went out to buy snacks for you. all you can hear is the low buzz of the radio downstairs, and faraway waves.

“huh?”

“i mean, with, y’know…” she moves her hands haphazardly, making some kind of gesture you don’t understand. “with my brother. and your… condition.”

you blink.

“… did you just refer to my crush as a condition?”

“well, it might as well be!” she groans, muffled, faceplanting onto the mattress. “don’t think i didn’t see you checking out his biceps just now. you’re so obvious.”

heat rushes to your cheeks. you try to shoo it away with a furrow of your brows and a loud exhale, but it lingers underneath your skin. “look — i —“ you scramble for words, brain tied up in fatigued knots. “did you see that shirt? is he buying them a size too small, or what?”

“oh, come on! that’s all it takes?”

another pair of exhales. you cross your legs, and she rolls onto her back. the silence is comfortable, and you gnaw at your bottom lip until she speaks up again.

“you could really, really do better, you know?”

her voice is quiet. soft, sincere, delicate as a sheet of glass. you know she’s just looking out for you, that she doesn’t want you pining for a guy who’ll never return those feelings — she’s kind like that, always has been. but…

“… i just like him.”

you take a tentative sip of your lemonade. sour and sweet. the cubes of ice clink against the glass, fresh condensation cooling down the tips of your fingers. her gaze lingers on your skin. it’s heavy, just like his.

you meet it with a sheepish smile, a little self-deprecating, but not embarrassed. she already knows all about your predicament.

(you just like him. that’s all there is to it.)

and she pulls herself into a sitting position.

“i know, i know,” she finally sighs, slumping against you, cheek smushed over your shoulder. “just don’t give him more attention than me, ‘kay?”

you let out giggle. “well, duh.”

she gives you a sunny grin.

“okay, good.”

you put the glass down on the windowsill beside you. just so you can stretch your arms out, falling backwards; a mountain of pillows cushioning your fall. a yawn spills past your lips, and riko sits up.

“wanna take a nap?” she tilts her head, dark locks framing her pretty blue eyes, deep as the sea. “that’s probably good. we’re going straight to the beach tomorrow, you know!”

“mm…” your eyes flutter shut, and you focus on that faraway sound. waves crashing against sand, the whistling of seagulls, the salty scent of the ocean. “that sounds nice.”

despite your exhaustion, you end up tossing and turning that night. not because of your best friend’s snores, or the feeling of a mattress you haven’t slept on in two years — but from the quiet sounds downstairs. glasses clinking, a chuckle here and there. the tv being turned on. tossing and turning from the knowledge that your childhood heartthrob, current heartthrob, is in the same house as you. a little older, a little less childish, even more charming than you remember him being.

you’re older, too. more mature, you like to think, even if the gain is small.

(maybe there’s a chance?)

shaking the thoughts from your head, mind still spinning along to the tune of his humming, you squeeze your eyes shut and try to fall asleep.

you’ll be okay.

okay, nevermind. you’re completely screwed.

“oh, there you are!”

satoru is already waiting up ahead when you step onto the beach, feeling the sand between your toes, a pleasantly cool breeze giving you respite from the sweltering heat.

the sun beats down on you, fervent sunlight warming the water up ahead, calm waves and a sparkling blue to match the hue of the sky; cobalts and ceruleans, melting together like watercolour on a canvas. people crowd around the food stands, shaved ice and churros and grilled fish, scents mingling together with the joyous chatter all around you. vibrant sensations, enough to excite but not to overwhelm.

a picture-perfect summer day.

your heart tingles with something giddy, skipping happily as you follow riko’s lead; she’s wearing a cute bikini set, frilly and floral, hair styled into a pair of braided pigtails, kept together by her favorite scrunchies. leading you towards her older brother, waiting patiently, having already grabbed a nice spot for you. a parasol, a blanket, a picnic basket. you see bottles of pink lemonade, wrapped sandwiches, strawberries in a plastic container.

more than anything, you see him. you see him, and realize just how screwed you are.

he’s smiling, when you approach. as always. hair tousled by the ocean breeze, blue eyes gleaming with mirth, exposed by the sunglasses close to slipping down the bridge of his nose. he’s wearing a hawaiian shirt, black in colour, white floral patterns to tie it all together. just unbuttoned enough to show off his collarbone, a sliver of his chest, the short sleeves exposing his biceps; patches of pale skin, shining with the beginnings of sweat.

(you’re about to fucking explode.)

as soon as you’re in sight, satoru lights up, aiming the flash of his phone in your direction. his other hand stays tucked into the pocket of his shorts. “aw, look at you two!” he coos, grinning brightly, teasing and sweet. “pose for the camera, okay?”

you’re still too hypnotized to react, but riko scurries ahead, ready to steal it from his grasp.

“no pictures!”

“oh, don’t be like that!” he takes a step back, dodging her attack by a hair, still wearing the same grin. “you’re gonna thank me ten years from now, trust me. it’s for the memories!”

a new voice spills into the air, suddenly, and you’re brought back into reality. it’s silky and low, smooth and nice, honeysuckle nectar turned into sound. interrupting the siblings.

“it’s been ten seconds. how are you already bickering?”

you turn towards its source, and spot a familiar face — right next to satoru. were you seriously too mesmerized to notice him? black hair, another hawaiian shirt, slightly lidded eyes…

suguru.

he meets your surprised stare with a relaxed smile, and takes a step forward; meeting you for a quick hug. he looks the same as he did when you were younger, odd bangs, hair tied up into a bun.

“hi there,” he hums, right by your ear, a light squeeze before he lets go. “it’s been a while.”

you part your lips, smiling through your words. a little stunned. “i didn’t know you’d be here too!”

he chuckles, a light shrug of his shoulders. “me neither. satoru called me last night and asked me to drop by. i had time to kill.”

“you missed me.”

a dubious look. suguru gives a lazy roll of his eyes, avoiding the smug voice to his right. “i saw you last week,” he tuts, an unimpressed expression on his face. “how could i miss you?”

“do you need a reason to miss your best friend?” he shakes his head, slowly, side to side. white locks swaying back and forth. “awful. just awful.”

you stifle a smile, completely unsuccessful. the sun feels nice on your skin, and the scent of the sea is nostalgic, and they’re all the same as ever. it’s like you can feel your nerves melting away, slowly but surely, like grains of sand slipping through the gaps between your fingers.

“the matching shirts are cute,” you point out, wanting to partake in the conversation, only to be met with a pair of furrowed brows.

suguru sighs. “that…” he mutters, massaging his temple, not before shooting satoru a dirty glance. “wasn't planned.”

said man only grins, unperturbed, tucking his phone back into his pocket. thoroughly amused. “he’s mad that i stole his fit,” he chirps, stretching his arms idly. it makes his shirt ride up, ever so slightly, and you swallow a gulp.

“well… you look good in it.”

at that, satoru stills. gazing at you, silently, before breaking out into another grin. self-satisfied, a smooth curve, sunlight against the white of his teeth. you glance away, suddenly a little shy.

“does he?” the other two deadpan, completely in sync. it shoos away the smile on his lips, making way for a displeased frown.

“oh, come on. would it kill you to call me handsome now and then?”

“handsome?” riko places her hands on her hips, raising an unimpressed brow, a sassy lilt to her voice. “you look like a single father down on his luck.”

“seconded,” suguru quips, hiding the beginnings of a smirk. picking at a piece of lint on his shirt. “honestly, i’m surprised you’re wearing any layers at all. not gonna flaunt your abs this time?”

satoru brightens, suddenly. wiggling his brows, a sweet coo on the tip of his tongue. “oh? want me to loosen up a couple buttons?” he purrs, and you hate yourself a little for the instant yes that resounds through your mind. “you know you can always just ask, suguru.”

his teasing goes ignored, but you don’t miss the amusement that flits through the scope of suguru’s eyes, even as he tries to maintain that deadpan expression.

finally, he exhales. “well, see you later,” he hums, directed to you and riko, checking the time on his wristwatch. “i should probably get going.”

“you’re not staying?” you ask, lashes fluttering with a confused blink. he smiles.

“i am,” he reassures you. “just gonna go fishing for a while. i thought i’d give it a try.”

“fishing?” riko exclaims, covering her amused grin with the palm of her hand. stifling laughter, you can tell, a bout of giggles begging to push past her lips. “what are you, fifty?”

satoru lets out a snort. to his left, suguru goes eerily silent — ominous, staring into your best friend’s eyes with no visible emotion. enough to make her smile fall. you feel a sense of deja vu.

“wait, i’m just kidding!” she suddenly squeaks, clinging to your arm and hiding behind you. she’s always had good survival instincts. ”don’t put me in a headlock!”

(they’re so stupid.

gosh, you missed them.)

“oh, by the way — do you want some shaved ice?” she turns to you, eyes crinkled at the edges, voice syrupy and sweet. “i can go get us some. what flavour do you want?”

“ah, great idea!” satoru matches her tone, tongue flitting out to lick his lips, glossy with chapstick. “i was just craving something sweet.”

“you’re paying, by the way.”

“…”

“so? any preference?” she tilts her head, waiting patiently for your reply. smiling once she gets it. “alright, got it. you, suguru?”

“i’m good. thanks, though.”

“okie-dokie,” she puts her palm out, facing satoru. “money, please.”

he only tuts, digging through his pocket and pulling out a black wallet. you think you spot a photocard, but he’s pulled out a credit card and tucked it back into his pocket before you can get a closer look.

“get me watermelon, okay? strawberry is fine too. if push comes to shove, go for anything other than lemon.” he hands her the card with a click of his tongue. “and watch out for creeps. if anyone hits on you, you know where to aim.”

she pockets it with a huff, exasperation on her features. “i’m twenty-three, toru. i can take care of myself.”

“aww, don’t be like that,” he coos, hands reaching out to squish her cheeks. she tries to squirm away, to no avail. “you’ll always be my little baby sister, you know. and, as your dependable big bro, i —“

“ugh, whatever.” she shoots him an unimpressed glance, finally escaping his hold. ”are you gonna go all men are wolves on us, or something?”

”they are! just look at suguru.”

”hey.”

you hide a growing smile behind your hand, watching them bicker and banter, feeling that sense of peace again. the summer day feels a little like a hazy daydream, a heavy nostalgia that sticks to your bones like gum on the sole of your shoe.

and, once again — you end up alone with a certain someone. suguru walks towards the faraway pier, riko strolls up to the stand selling shaved ice, and satoru lingers behind. you think he looks relaxed, at ease, but you can’t really look at him for too long without feeling nervous. without feeling as if you’re both ignoring the elephant in the room.

it still feels a little like there’s an invisible wall between you.

he’s the first to speak up, craning his neck and stretching like a big cat, a tiny groan escaping him. “well, there they go,” he hums. “what do you feel like doing first?”

“ummm…” you rack your brain for ideas, coming up empty. a little fried by his presence. you could go into the water, and escape the heat — sunbathing with him doesn’t sound so bad, though…

lost deep in thought, you barely notice him inching closer. still weighing your options, water or land, a relaxing nap or a splash war. you don’t notice until you feel his arm sneaking around your waist, pulling you closer, just by a hair. stealing all the oxygen from your lungs.

(you think your brain shuts down a little.)

his touch burns, as always. bare skin on bare skin. electric, a trail of sparks rushing through your veins. he’s warm, and solid, effortlessly composed — guiding you right where he wants you, which is by his chest, where you can practically hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat —

and then he’s pulling away.

you raise your head to meet his gaze, completely flushed, unsure if you were hallucinating or not. he’s looking somewhere behind you, with an oddly cold gaze. you follow his stare, craning your neck, catching a glimpse of a man turning his back on you both before walking away.

… was he staring at you, or what?

when you search for satoru’s eyes again, they’re already on you. he’s smiling, a little sheepish, scratching at the back of his neck.

“sorry,” he chuckles. “i got paranoid.”

oh.

your skin still feels like it’s on fire. a lingering heat, blossoming where his skin touched yours, rendering you speechless.

finally, you gain control over your vocal chords, dry and charred. just enough to croak out a response. “i — it’s fine.”

your eyes stay glued to the sand beneath you, staring at a crushed seashell, unable to look him in the eye. feeling the back of your neck grow hotter. you miss the dirty glance riko sends his way, having just returned with the shaved ice, and the way satoru mouths out a silent what?

it’s easier after that. she grounds you, a little, leading you out into the sea. the water is pleasantly mild, licking at your ankles, coaxing you further, until it’s reaching up to your waist. it cools you down considerably, and before you know it you’re splashing her with all you’ve got, giggles filling the salty air — seagull cries above you and wet sand beneath your feet, a glimmer or two of tiny fish, loud laughter. sensations all around you. satoru watches you with a smile, munching on a sandwich, not joining you both until riko beckons him over.

the day stretches on, melting away into evening. people leave the beach behind them, suguru heads back to the house with a bucket of fish and a smug smile, riko dries herself off with a towel and rushes to a nearby convenience store when she notices that it’s about to close. murmuring something about dinner, shooting you an anxious glance, a silent will you be alright on your own? with him?

you wave her off with a smile. hoping it’ll come off as convincing.

so, one way or another, you end up under a parasol with a certain satoru gojo; putting empty bottles of lemonade back into the picnic basket, rolling up the blanket, stuck with cleaning duty. satoru carries it all, unwilling to let you help, the basket hanging off his arm. you walk away from the beach, stepping onto solid asphalt again, beginning your trekk up towards the main street — not too long of a walk, but you’re tired, even though satoru doesn’t seem tuckered out in the slightest. walking a step or two ahead of you.

the sun is beginning to set, melting like a sundae on the boundary of the horizon, rays of golden sunshine dripping down your wrist. satoru looks good in it, the pink and orange; peaceful, somehow. when the breeze licks a stripe across his cheek, he closes his eyes and exhales. there’s a smile on those lips, a smile of contentment.

he turns towards you and waits until you catch up.

“tired?” he coos, tilting his head, absently tucking his shades into the breast pocket of his shirt. blinking slowly, eyes shimmering in the summery hue of evening.

“kinda,” you smile, trying to muster a pep in your step. another hum buzzes in his throat, and then he’s facing forward again.

“c’mon. let’s get you something from the vending machine, okay? ‘s just up ahead.” he pats your head, once, twice. “that’ll give you some energy.”

you can only nod, following his lead. hydrangeas bloom all around you, a thick syrupy scent, paired with apple blossoms from the backyards you pass. then you spot the vending machine. satoru takes out his wallet, finding his card — it’s not the same one as before. riko still has it.

and this time, you’re close enough to see it. in his wallet is a photocard, clearly visible; of a baby, sleeping soundly, with short tufts of hair. a dark colour unlike his own.

(your heart melts, a little.)

“cola or sprite?”

you raise your head, looking through the barrier of glass in front of you. then you’re stepping forward, fingertip pressing against it, pointing towards a green can of sprite. not looking at him, as you make your choice. ”this one.”

— suddenly, you feel his skin on yours.

you’re sleepy, and pliant, jaw caught between his fingers. he lifts it up, turns it towards him, just so that you’ll meet his gaze. two seas of blue, flecks of pure white, summer skies and summer clouds.

“there,” he exhales, pleased. giving you a reassuring smile before pulling away. “you’ve barely looked me in the eye today. ‘s gonna break my heart, y’know.”

a pause. you gulp, on instinct, shying away from his unbridled attention — eyes moving from those summer skies down to the curve of his glossy lips, and then back up again. a mistake, because when you glance down once more, unable to help yourself, you see it.

that apologetic smile.

(you really are obvious, aren’t you?

how embarrassing.)

silence splits the scene in half, only the faraway sounds of seagulls as background noise. they sound a little like they’re laughing, mocking you.

satoru presses a button on the vending machine, followed by a quiet beep. he doesn’t look at you when he broaches the subject, and you wonder if it’s out of respect or discomfort.

“still not over that schoolgirl crush, huh?”

…

something twists inside your gut. a little ugly, a little sentimental. now that he’s made the first move, it’s easier to move the pieces.

“it’s not a crush,” you murmur, kicking at a pebble on the ground. surprised by how clear your voice comes out. “i’m in love with you.”

a sigh. another beep, and the sound of a sodacan falling against metal flooring. he crouches down.

“… you could really, really do better.”

you watch as he fumbles with the pick-up box, eyes trained on the back of his neck, the buzzed hair of his undercut. letting out a quiet breath. “riko said the same thing.”

a snort pushes past his lips, ripe with fondness. he pulls himself up from the ground, shifting his weight from one foot to another, reaching for his wallet again. “oh, i’m sure.” he tucks the card back, slipping it into his pocket. a stray cat strolls by you, unburdened, waving its tail in the air. “really, though. you should listen to her.”

something cold meets your cheek. metal, condensation, a pleasant shiver down your spine. he presses the aluminium can against you, and you receive it with a murmur of thanks.

“i’m too old for you, for one.” he continues, and suddenly you feel a little like you’re being lectured. you break open the lid of the sprite can.

“you’re four years older.” a fizzy sound crackles like static in your ears, carbonation bubbling up, sticking to your fingertips. “and we’re both adults.”

he huffs out a breath, only mildly amused. “i’m pushing thirty, y’know?”

you take a sip, lips against cold aluminum, melting sunrays lapping at your skin. it tastes sweet.

“i know.” a pause, your bottom lip trapped between two sharp teeth. gnawing at the flesh. ”i can’t control how i feel, though.”

…

“yeah,” he sighs, leaning back against the glass. crossing one leg over the other, fiddling with something in his pocket. “i know.”

a moment passes. then he parts his lips, again.

“hey, how about you join me on a mixer someday?” he searches for your gaze, smiling, another one of those charming tilts of his head. “i know some cute guys. and girls, if that’s your thing.”

your answer is instantaneous.

“i’ll pass.”

…

another exhale, breathed out into the summer air. it drips with exasperation, ripe with fatigue, but there’s still something fond there. unmistakable.

“fine, fine. just… think about it. okay?” his palm finds its way to your head, ruffling your hair gently. that comforting weight. “c’mon, let’s go back. riri’s making dinner tonight.”

and then he’s taking a step forward. you watch his back for only a moment, still deep in thought. a fizzy, syrupy sweetness sticking to your teeth, a sense of nostalgia invading all your senses. and, as always, that silent adoration.

deep down, you know it’s true. there’s no changing this, whatever this is. in the same way riko will always be his baby sister, you’ll always just be the brat that sniffled into his chest after your first fight with her.

he’ll never quite see you the way you’d like him to.

(but, then again, isn’t that a part of it? that subtle, subtle kindness of his. the sense of maturity that asks for nothing in return.)

satoru is a good guy. that’s why you can’t help but adore him, despite everything. can’t help but watch his back as he leaves you behind, wishing you could catch up.

it feels nice, to open yourself up like this. crack the lid of your heart and have him wade through the carbonation. it feels nice to have your feelings be acknowledged, even if they aren’t reciprocated. even if you’re completely delusional, and high on summer joy. it feels nice just to watch him shine.

you gulp down the rest of your sprite, toss it into a trash can across the street, and stumble after him. veins sleepy, heart heavy, overwhelmed by adoration. you’ve already cracked the lid open; everything else comes easy. you just want to make a move, any move. want to see how he’ll react.

“satoru,” you call, and he comes to a standstill. when he turns around your arms are outstretched. “can i have a piggyback ride?”

the man before you blinks. once, then twice, fluttering like angel wings, or pretty clouds.

and then his smile grows. you catch a glimpse of his dimples, for just a moment, and then he’s beckoning you closer with a chuckle.

“yeah? now you’re suddenly all brave?” he shakes his head, no real discontentment behind it. “or are you really that exhausted?”

he studies you intently, ripe with fondness, and you think your sluggish blinks must be enough to convince him. because he crouches down, back facing you, and chirps out a hop on. a little teasing, of course, but still nice. his arms underneath your thigh, lifting you up like it’s nothing. making sure you’re comfortable.

he’s strong. very strong. the butterflies in your stomach flutter around again.

and you really are very exhausted. bones buzzing with something sleepy and fatigued, sore after all the running around you did in the water. completely tuckered out, resting your cheek against his back. like this, you can feel his muscles, the solidity of his body. it’s a little bit distracting.

“— remember?”

a series of blinks. you grasp onto his shoulders, holding back a yawn. “huh?”

“you falling asleep on me?” he chuckles, walking forward. one step after the other, the soles of his sandals hitting the asphalt. “i was saying — how i remember doing this back then.”

you tilt your head.

“when you fell and twisted your ankle. i think it was nearby, actually. some park?”

“... oh.” when you really concentrate, you think you do recall it; the feeling of his back against your chest, a dull ache in your foot. “yeah, i remember.”

satoru hums, a little buzz of amusement. “after that, you and riri would ask me for it all the time. carry us, big bro!” his imitation makes you smile, voice high and squeaky. “so childish, i swear. i could barely carry one of you.”

a chuckle tumbles from your lips, and it seems to spur him on; because he continues. nostalgia pouring out his throat.

“don’t tell her, okay? but, see — i started going to the gym after that. lifting weights. training, and stuff,” he huffs out an amused exhale, grinning softly. “suguru made me carry boulders on the beach. it was kind of our thing.”

…

“we almost got arrested once.”

you can’t help but laugh, hiding in the smooth fabric of his shirt, in between those white printed flowers. shoulders shaking slightly, giddy and amused. “you did that just ‘cause you were embarrassed?”

“no. because i wanted to be prepared,” he murmurs softly. “in case the two of you ever happened to fall over at the same time, or something. i wanted to be able to carry you both back.”

satoru continues to walk, facing away from you. always smiling, you’re sure. even if you can’t see it.

“you’re both precious to me,” he says, making sure to keep his hold around your legs steady. “that’s why i don’t want either of you wasting yourselves on some random guy.”

a displeased huff.

“… you’re not a random guy, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“well, of course not. i’m the guy,” he quips, standing a little straighter, and you can practically see the smug smirk on his lips. “but i’m not a very good person.”

you blink.

silence fills the open air.

he says it so casually that you almost don't catch it. matter-of-factly, like it’s just another obvious realization, something so deeply ingrained that it isn’t even worthy of a tonal shift. satoru, who makes pancakes for the people he loves, who carries your bags and buys you soda and keeps a picture of his baby sister in his wallet.

that satoru isn’t a good person?

(how could he ever, ever think that?)

“you are.”

a low hum buzzes in his throat, absentminded. you’re not sure he hears you. if he does, he simply doesn’t care enough to respond. the scene flickers by, the moment comes and goes — you want to protest again, but something about this silence makes you hesitate.

the only thing you can do is —

“satoru.”

another little hum. acknowledging, this time.

“do you… i mean,” you choke down a bundle of words, replacing them with new ones. gnawing at the flesh of your bottom lip. “is there really no chance… you’ll ever feel the same? none at all?”

…

a mirthless chuckle. he sounds a little tired, you think. more than a little exasperated. but the amusement is still there, laced into his voice, and you drink it in the same way you’ve always done. a little root, soaking in the light of the sun.

“after all that,” he mutters, “you’re still asking?”

a moment’s pause. you listen intently, as if you could hear the gears of his mind shift if you focus enough. as if just being stubborn enough could coax him into opening up the way you have.

finally, he parts his lips.

“well,” comes a sigh, a click of his tongue. he breathes in the summer breeze. “maybe in a couple decades or so.”

you stare. those white tufts of hair sway with every step he takes, and his voice has a finality to it that isn’t lost on you.

“… okay.”

a pause. then he’s barking out a short laugh, shoulders shaking. you tighten your grip around them. “okay?” he repeats, pinching the skin of your thigh. “can’t you read between the lines, you little troublemaker?”

a huff. you kick your legs, a little, just stretching them contentedly. wet hair sticking to his skin, your cheek still smushed against him, enveloped in his neverending warmth. “i don’t mind,” you whisper, choking down a yawn. and you mean it. “i’ve already waited eight years. a couple decades more isn’t too bad.”

silence, again. you wonder what he’s thinking. you wonder if you’ll ever come close to cracking open the lid of his heart. he parts his lips, oxygen spilling out.

(you think it’s a start.)

“has anyone ever told you that you’re awfully stubborn?”

you’re quick to nod, forehead nuzzling into his undercut. wearing a satisfied smile. “riko tells me all the time.”

“does she?” there’s silent laughter hiding between his teeth, eager to spill out. “that’s good. listen to her, alright? you might learn a thing or two.”

he’s teasing you. the sun is setting, and the air smells like saltwater, and satoru’s back is warm. his voice is set to a melodic lilt, and you feel strangely tempted to close your eyes.

and you adore him again.

right — loving him was never a choice, and waiting wasn’t an issue. getting over him is the tall hurdle, the root of the problem, a root you intend you trip over as many times as it takes for this something to bloom.

because he’s beautiful, and comfortable, and kind. because it’s his back you always end up clinging to. because he knows how you like your pancakes, how you take your coffee, what you look like when you cry. because you like this feeling, the swarm of butterflies in your stomach. even if they’re completely meaningless in the long run.

satoru is right, and so is riko. you’re stubborn, terribly so — if only you could see that as a bad thing.

if only you were physically capable of giving this something up.

unlike the siblings and their overgrown backyard, you just can’t seem to look away from an ugly bud yet to bloom. just in case it ends up blossoming, this summer, or the next. just in case it turns into something worth plucking from the ground. it’s fine if it withers away, too. at least it’ll give way to better soil.

you just like him. you just want to see where it leads you. that’s all.

“but promise you’ll go with me to that mixer, okay?” his voice calls, breaking you out of your thoughts. unrelenting. ”i’ll find you someone who’ll get your mind off lil ol’ me.”

ah. that’s right.

(you’re terribly, horribly stubborn —

and satoru is too.)

you grin, soft and giddy, thinking of the years ahead of you. what they’ll be like. where’s the fun in a certain future?

“fine,” you hum, wrapping your arms around his neck. inhaling that familiar scent of sandalwood. “do your worst.”

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk fluff #jjk x gender neutral reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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the-writer-arrived · 10 months

Text

Wait, you're engaged?!

Synopsis: you two are engaged, congrats!! how does he share the news with others?

Characters: alhaitham; diluc ragnvindr.

Warnings: gender neutral!reader, fluff, crack, this is actually more crack than fluff oh well, diluc and kaeya are brothers.

A/N: this is the third draft I wrote in two hours. IS THIS WHAT'S LIKE TO HAVE MOTIVATION????

It all started with a simple question about your well-being coming from Kaveh.

"So, how have they been lately?" was what the architect had asked, while shaking the elemental dice in his hand. He was playing a TCG match against Cyno, not an uncommon occurrence when the 4ggravate group of friends get together at Lambad's Tavern.

"Oh, my fiancée is doing just fine, I guess they're in a bit more energetic mood than usual." was what Alhaitham had answered, nonchalant as if he was talking about the weather and hadn't just dropped a huge bomb just like that.

The cheeky bastard is actually hiding his smirk with his wine cup, totally satisfied with himself at the shocked looks everyone has now.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?!?!"

"Kaveh, please don't yell, you're making my ears hurt!"

"A-Ah! Sorry, Tighnari..."

"It seems like you didn't get a single dice of the elements you needed, your luck is truly something to be researched about."

"Wha-?! You...! Ah, no, wait, who cares about that?!"

I'm telling you, the guy is doing all he can to surpress the grin threatening to appear on his face.

No one was expecting to hear that, heck they didn't even know Alhaitham had bought a ring in the first place????

Dude how come you don't share these life changing plans with your homies?!

He shares the tale of how he had proposed to you... And let's just say Kaveh's romantic side was not happy about how it happened.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU PROPOSED WHILE YOU TWO WERE LOUNGING IN THE LIVING ROOM???"

"Kaveh, too loud!"

"S-Sorry!"

Much to Kaveh's dismay, Alhaitham didn't make any extravagant gesture or big preparations.

It was just you and him, in the comfort of your home and it just felt right to pop the question at that moment.

What no one, not even you, knew is that the confident, smart and aloof scribe had not actually planned to propose to you like that at all.

Ever since he had bought the ring months ago, Alhaitham had devised so many different ways on how to do it, always thinking about which scenario would make you the happiest.

But when he had you laid down on his lap, spounting your usual nonsense just to try to get a reaction out of him because you were bored, it simply felt... right to do it right then and there.

Make no mistake, he may not have shown, but his hand was shaking when he pulled the small box out of his pocket, he had to thank Lesser Lord Kusanali for allowing his voice to not come out shaky.

Alhaitham's cockiness aside, Cyno, Tighnari and Kaveh are all genuinely very happy at the unexpected, but positive news.

"Let's order some bread, then."

"Bread? Why do you want bread all of a sudden?"

"So we can offer a toast to the future spouses... Get it? Toast? As in-"

"Yes Cyno, we get it!"

Ahhh Diluc, my sweet Batman of Mondstadt... He had always thought that the best course of action was to keep everyone at arm's length, not only for his sake, but for other people as well.

Now, as he gazes at the beautiful ring on your finger, he can only laugh at how naive he was for thinking he would be able to do that during his whole life.

On the next day after he had proposed to you, every customer in Angel's Share can see Master Diluc acting rather... odd.

He seems... I don't know, lighter? His expression doesn't look so serious anymore... Wait, is he... smiling?!

Needless to say, everyone at the tavern is dying to know what happened to the tycoon of the wine industry, but no one dares to ask him directly...

...no one but a certain cavalry captain of the Knights of Favonious, that is.

"My, someone is in a good mood today. Did something nice happened lately, Master Diluc?"

"Here's your Death After Noon, Kaeya."

"...Okay, something must have happened for you to prepare my drink before I even ordered it."

After much poking and prying from Kaeya, Diluc finally relents, just so the pestering would stop.

It's a lie, he is actually feeling ecstatic to be able to share the news with someone.

Everyone and their grandma knew about your relationship with Diluc of course, it's a bit hard not to when you are dating the uncrowned king of Mondstadt himself, despite you two not making a public announcement of being together.

So, before he could even tell Kaeya that he had proposed to you, the captain already suspected that that was the reason for his brother's sudden change of behavior.

Even so, that doesn't stop a genuine smile to appear on Kaeya's face as he congratulates Diluc.

"It's about time! I was starting to wonder how many more years you were going to make me wait, before I had the chance be your best man in your wedding."

"Who said you're going to be my best man?"

"Oh, come on. Don't tell me you've forgotten our promise to be each other's best man when we were younger?"

"...I'm surprised you still remember that.

What Diluc wasn't aware at that moment was that a certain bard had eavesdropped "accidentaly" listened to his private conversation with the cavalry captain.

It was such great news, the bard couldn't help but let it escape during the drunk conversations he had with other patrons that night.

How could he imagine that those patrons would tell their friends, who would tell their friends and so on? Of course the kind-hearted bard wouldn't do that on purpose!

It's not his fault that all the citizens of Mondstadt now know about Diluc's engagement with you!

Sorry Donna.

"Come now, Master Diluc! Good news are meant to be shared with others! Who knows? Maybe even the Anemo Archon caught wind of them, ehe!"

"...I won't sell you any wine for a month now."

"W-What?! Please, don't be so cruel, Master Diluc!"

thanks for reading <3 likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated <3

heart divider made by @/cafekitsune

pink alhaitham and diluc banners (fluff) made by @/the-writer-arrived aka yours truly <3

#blue.writes: genshin impact #blue.writes: fluff #blue.writes: alhaitham #blue.writes: diluc ragnvindr #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin alhaitham #genshin diluc #al haitham x reader #alhaitham x reader #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader

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eldritch-thrumming · 4 months

Text

is it casual now?, pt. one

pt. two

dumb love, i love being stupid, dream of us in a year. maybe we’d have an apartment and you’d show me off to your friends at the pier. i know, “baby, no attachment,” but we’re… knee deep in the passengers seat and you’re eating me out, is it casual now?

“but like… why not just tell him?” robin asks. they’re laying on their backs on steve’s floor, side by side, legs tangled together while a fleetwood record spins out the low sounds of stevie nicks’s voice. “you’re already banging, so what’s the point? you’re practically dating.”

“what? no.” steve replies, taking one last hit from the joint they’ve been passing back and forth before handing it back to robin so she can drop it into the ashtray near her elbow. “it’s not dating. it’s strictly sexual.”

“you’ve never in your life been strictly sexual with anyone,” robin snorts.

steve scowls. this is kind of a sore subject for him because yeah. he’s never done this casual thing before and he’s never really wanted to. he doesn’t even really want to now.

he’s silent for so long that robin’s perfectly capable of understanding exactly what he’s thinking. “oh,” she breathes out. “oh no.”

“stop, please. it was mutual.” steve doesn’t even sound convincing to his own ears.

“okay. yeah. sure.” steve hates how much she sounds like she’s trying to placate him.

“it’s really not a big deal. it’s fine. we’re having fun. i’m having fun.” steve’s embarrassed by how rehearsed he sounds.

“yeah, no, totally. for sure.”

they lay there without speaking again for a long time after that.

~*~

“god, you’re so cute, stevie, cooking me breakfast.” steve’s standing in front of the stove in his kitchen a few days later when eddie comes up behind him and wraps his arms around his waist, nuzzling into steve’s neck. steve can’t help the smile that spreads across his face.

“don’t get too used to it,” steve tells him, plating the first batch of french toast. “woke up early enough to eat before work for the first time in, like, three months.”

“well i appreciate it,” eddie says, letting steve turn in his arms. steve can’t help himself; he leans in for a kiss and eddie returns it enthusiastically.

eddie’s never spent the night like this before. usually he’s out of the house before steve wakes up in the morning. most of the time he leaves before they even have the chance to fall asleep together. steve tries not to take it too personally. eddie’s a busy guy and what they’re doing is nothing serious. eddie had been sure to make that clear the first few times they’d seen each other naked.

steve tries not to read too much into it as eddie takes the plate from his hands and pulls himself up to sit on the island countertop just across from where steve’s leaning next to the stove with his own plate. he tries not to get his hopes up but he can’t help the flutter in his chest and the butterflies in his stomach as they eat breakfast together before he has to go to work. he tries his best to ignore the pull he feels toward eddie, the way his hands itch to plant themselves on eddie’s hips and pull him in. he pushes down the disappointment that arises when eddie changes out of the sweats he’d clearly taken from steve’s dresser drawers and back into his own clothes. he ignores the tiny little pang in his chest when eddie says goodbye and leaves, even though steve has to leave for work in ten minutes anyway. he tries to ignore the little voice in his head that points out that eddie doesn’t even kiss him goodbye.

~*~

it goes on like that for a while. eddie starts spending enough nights at steve’s house that steve can’t help but become hopeful. he has his own green toothbrush sitting right next to steve’s red one on his bathroom sink. his hair has started to smell like steve’s shampoo. eddie’s stopped insisting that they’re just casual every time steve leans in for a kiss. sometimes they don’t even fuck, they just fall asleep together watching a movie, with the tv playing softly in the background.

steve’s not delusional. he knows that it’s not a relationship. but that hope is back and he’s helpless against its forces building inside him every time he says goodbye to eddie at his front door. his t-shirts have started going missing, ones with hawkins high emblazoned across the front, ones that he knows robin wouldn’t be caught dead in. eddie’s the only one who could be taking them, but steve can’t figure out why he’s being so secretive about it. he still hasn’t been able to catch him at it. but it has to mean something, right?

steve starts to let himself fantasize about what could happen if he just confessed to eddie. if he just admitted, once and for all, that he’d never wanted to do this whole friends with benefits thing that eddie’s been insisting on. he’s not totally sure that eddie would be a hundred percent receptive, but it’s only happening in his own brain, so he can have the ending he wants for now.

“jesus, dingus, what the hell is going on with you lately?” robin asks, sounding irritated as she comes to stand next to him behind the counter at family video. “i’ve been trying to get your attention for ten minutes.”

“what? sorry.” steve drags a hand across his face. “just thinking.”

“oh really,” robin snorts. “about what?”

“just…” steve sighs. “remember when we were talking a few months ago?”

robin raises her eyebrows at him.

“i mean, you know. about eddie.” his voice drops into a whisper at the end, as if eddie might be hiding behind one of the vhs displays, even though it’s a tuesday morning and the two of them are alone in the store.

“oh. yes. i remember.” robin sounds just a tiny bit apprehensive.

“well… i think something’s changed.”

“changed? how?”

“i mean, he’s started sleeping over my house a lot more. sometimes we don’t even… you know. have sex.” he whispers the last two words, looking over his shoulder. “i think he’s stealing my t-shirts.”

“okay,” robin draws out the second syllable, elongating the ‘a’ sound, making it clear that steve has to be a bit more specific.

“do you think he… i don’t know. do you think maybe he wants something more? like, maybe to date? or like, whatever.” steve runs a hand through his hair nervously. this is the first time he’s admitting he wants something more out loud.

robin considers for a long moment. “honestly, i don’t know. i’ve never made it past kissing anyone before.” steve’s shoulders slump. “but there’s only one real way to find out.”

“how?” steve grunts, even though he already knows the answer.

“you gotta talk to him, man.” steve groans. “i know, dingus. it sucks.” she reaches out to rub his back, an attempt at comfort.

it almost works.

~*~

steve thinks about it for a few days. about three weeks ago, eddie had started kissing him goodbye every time they parted ways at steve’s front door and he hasn’t missed a goodbye kiss yet. that has to mean something. it has to.

it’s a movie night—eddie’s choice—when steve finally gathers the courage to say something to him.

“can i talk to you?” steve says, sounding far more confident than he actually feels. he’s pulled his legs up under himself on the couch and turned sideways to stare at eddie’s profile.

“um, yeah,” eddie replies a bit distractedly, eyes glued to the tv screen as he reaches for the remote next to him. he pauses the film and only then does he turn to face steve. he smiles, dimples showing. “what’s up, stevie? i don’t pause the thing for just anyone.”

that makes steve feel a little less nervous. it feeds the hope in his chest. he runs a hand through his hair. “okay, well. i was thinking about, like, what we’re doing.”

“what we’re doing?” eddie tilts his head to the side just a little, looking confused.

“yeah, like. you know. you’ve said you want to keep things casual but i was thinking that maybe we could…” steve trails off, unsure of how to continue.

“we could…?” eddie prompts, but he’s starting to look a little apprehensive.

“i mean, i know you said that you don’t really do the non-casual type of thing or whatever, but i was thinking like. i don’t know, that we could, like, go on a date? maybe?” steve hates how unsure he sounds at the end, how his voice turns up at the end.

eddie just looks at him for a long moment. “i thought we were on the same page, steve.”

okay, he’s not ‘stevie’ anymore, but maybe this is just a miscommunication.

“we were,” steve responds, swallowing hard. “i mean, we are. i think.” then he corrects himself. “or, uh, thought.” he looks down at his hands for a second and takes a deep breath before speaking again. “i really like you, eddie. and i want… i don’t know what i want but i know that i like you a lot. and i don’t want to be just friends who sleep together.”

“so,” eddie speaks slowly, still looking just a bit confused, “you don’t want to sleep together anymore.” he doesn’t really say it like a question, more like he’s not really all that surprised.

“no, i mean…” steve’s feeling just a little frustrated with himself. “i like that part. that part’s, like, really good. i just… i want more than that.” he runs his hand through his hair again. “i… i guess want to be your boyfriend.”

eddie laughs then and it makes steve’s chest feel hollow. eddie must see something on steve’s face because his laugh cuts off abruptly. “sorry, man. you’re serious?” eddie sounds almost disbelieving. steve can only nod, his throat tight. he definitely does not want to cry in front of eddie right now. “oh. well. um. i don’t really…” steve’s heart drops and the little bubble of hope that had been building since that first time eddie had stayed for breakfast abruptly bursts. “i’m sorry, dude, i genuinely thought we were on the same page. i’m not—that’s just—” eddie clears his throat. “that’s just not really something i want.”

steve has nothing to say to that. he supposes that eddie had been honest from the beginning and that he was the one who hadn’t been truthful so he can’t even really be mad.

“right,” steve responds, avoiding eddie’s eyes. “sure, okay.”

“i think i’m gonna go for now. but i’ll see you around, okay, stevie?” steve’s eyes snap up to eddie’s face and eddie’s eyes are wide and panicked. he looks like a cornered deer. a part of steve can’t help but feel sorry for putting that look on eddie’s face.

“yeah, okay. see you.” steve tries to smile at him, maybe to reassure him, but eddie doesn’t even look at him as he gathers his shoes and keys before leaving.

once eddie’s gone, steve sits there for a long moment, wondering where he’d gone wrong. maybe he should have waited until a little bit later, when they were upstairs tangled up together and he could distract eddie with kisses. maybe he should have waited until breakfast, when eddie’s soft and sweet, warm from sleep. maybe he shouldn’t have said anything at all.

steve turns off the tv and goes upstairs to bed alone for the first time in a while.

there’s a part two already half written so no worries, i only write happy endings (except that one time).

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steddie ficlet #steddie blurb

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theorphicangel · 3 months

Text

“𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬?” | 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

synopsis: you have a valentine’s date tomorrow and you’re somewhat excited for it. but there’s just one thing you’re unsure about…thankfully your trusted roommate can help. right?

tags: roommate au! (Here we go again), smut, 18+, male masturbation, mutual pining, these mfs are in DENIAL smh, angsty ishhhh

taglist: @ghost-lantern @mreowmoreww @maomaimao @ahano

PART TWO. (click here for part one.)

“I think you’re lying to me.”

Miguel glances up at you from the dining table that he’s sitting at, currently eating a bowl of cereal. You’re standing opposite him, buttering a seemingly burnt piece of toast.

“Hmm?”

“I think you’re lying to me about not having a valentine’s date.”

Miguel’s eyes move back down to stare at his bowl, spoon mindlessly poking at the cereal but he’s not eating. He pauses for a few seconds, thinking over your words.

“What makes you think that?”

“You?” You point at him with your butter knife. “The Miguel O’Hara, the well-known ladies’ man has not one date tonight? Not a single one out of the countless ladies that he’s been with? Suspicious.”

“Looks like it.” he mumbles. You notice that his tone is dry. Refusing to play along with your teasing.

“See, I don’t believe it. Something’s up, you’re acting…weird.”

It’s ironic you say that. You have no right to judge him on his behavior. After all, you did suck him off on the couch last night. This morning, neither of you had made an attempt to discuss what had happened last night. You acted as if nothing had happened between the two of you, as if you had just gone to bed for an early night.

As for Miguel, it was a whole different story. Unbeknownst to you, he didn’t get any sleep that night. Tossing and turning, his cock aching at the thought of you. Each and every time that he tried to close his eyes, all he could picture was you between his thighs.

It was that look. That look you had in your eye, it was full of hunger and desire. It was a look that proudly told him that all you had wanted to do was to make him feel good.

Reminiscing on this, guilt ran through his bloodstream like poison, questions running through his mind.

Why didn’t he ask you to be his valentine’s sooner? Why didn’t he confess there and then? Why did he have to wait so long to make a move? Do you feel the same as him? Do you feel as if your soul is eating you from the inside out, tempting you to confess how you really feel? If he did confess, would you have canceled all your plans for him? Or would you act like how you’re acting now, pretending that nothing happened?

“I’m not being weird. I’m tired.” He mumbles, still poking at his cereal. In his mind he can already hear the voice of his mother berating him for it.

“Right.” you say, unable to think of anything more to say. Normally, it’s easier than this to start off playful banter between the two of you but you can sense Miguel’s energy was off.

This was almost reminiscent of your earlier days after moving in. How you both exchanged awkwardness and empty conversations that resulted from who's turn it was to take out the trash and the weather forecast.

You figure that perhaps Valentine's Day wasn't the best day for him, assuming that his behavior is the result of something else that happened. You decide to keep your pondering questions to yourself, instead finishing your breakfast in silence. You scroll mindlessly on your phone, seeing multiple posts of friends already waking up to cute valentine gifts and what not.

Audibly, you let out a sigh, wondering if your date – whom you may come across at work– has anything planned for you this morning.

You glance over at Miguel who continues to stare down at his bowl, the obnoxious sound of milk falling off his spoon fills the silence.

Anxiety builds up in your stomach about last night. Was it wrong to ask him to help you? Perhaps he regrets what happened, suddenly wishing he’d never agree to it. Your negative thoughts continue to build up inside you, suddenly taking away your appetite.

You thought last night was…good. Great, even. It had given you confidence for tonight.

if anything was to happen tonight.

Was last night helpful? Most definitely.

Did it spark something in you that you’ve tried to keep buried since the very moment you moved into the apartment? Sure.

Did you want to do it again? Hell yes.

But the question is, does he feel the same?

You take in his demeanor, his low mood and refusal to look up at you. Maybe he hates you so much that he can’t bear to stand you after last night. This brutal assumption was all you needed to get yourself to snap back into reality.

Before disappearing to get changed for work, you take one last glance at Miguel, who continues to ignore you. By the time you step out of your room to leave the apartment for work you find the kitchen empty.

You find a single bowl of cereal on the table that remains unfinished.

Exhausted, miguel steps into the apartment. He thinks it’s nearing 6pm by the time he arrives, taking a little longer than usual to return.

As soon as he shuts the door behind him he can hear your voice calling for him; a personal singsong just for him bouncing off the walls. After locking the door, he turns to hang up his coat before bending down to remove his shoes.

By the time he looks up again, you’re suddenly standing in front of him and for a second it feels like his breath is knocked out of his lungs.

And there you were. Stood in front of him with a cheesy smile across your lips, wearing a dress he’s never seen before. You tilt your head to one side, awkwardly fiddling with your hands as Miguel stares you down.

“Do you think it’s a little too much?”

You move your body a little, providing different angles of the dress. Immediately Miguel’s eyes are drawn to the way that your curves hug at the dress. His eyes are latched onto you, unblinking. As he stands in silence your mind turns into panic, taking it as a negative reaction. Maybe it’s not the right dress.

Your disappointment is more than obvious as you start to turn, heading back to your bedroom where a pile of clothes await your return. “You’re right, I think I should–”

“Perfect.”

Finally, the words leave his throat.

If the words ‘Will you be my Valentine?’ won’t fall from his lips then he makes sure that you’re able to hear this at least.

“It’s perfect.” He repeats, a little louder now. His body forces himself to blink now, eyes stinging at the image of you.

“Are you sure?” Your tone is apprehensive, unable to see the positive correlation between his reaction with his words. “Because I think I have a better dress–”

“No.” Miguel swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I like this one, it looks good. Perfect.”

He likes it.

Relief crashes over you, all doubt washed away. His external validation was the only thing you needed.

“Really?”

Miguel’s patience was wearing thin at your disbelief, it took everything in him not to run up to you and mark you as his. It took everything in him not to run his hands all over your body, to ingest every feature, to worship it, to make love to it and provide you everything you had ever wanted.

God, he wanted nothing more but to prove to you that, yes, you looked fucking gorgeous, stunning even. If there was a moment where he wanted to kick himself in the balls for not asking you out sooner, the moment would be now.

“Really. Don’t change.”

He can’t tell whether this final validation was all you needed or whether his tone was finally believable to you but either way he’s satisfied that he has finally gotten through to you as a smile reaches for your lips.

“Thanks mig’. ” you mutter quickly, turning from him as fast as you could to hide the heat that now spread rapidly across your face. You say nothing more, disappearing as quickly as you had appeared, leaving him in a wondrous state.

“Think you’ll be okay?”

You don’t look up at him, too busy replying back to a message. He watches as your thumbs move across the small screen at lighting speed. “Yeah, yeah, he’s nearly here.” you mumble quietly. Unfortunately, you’re too preoccupied to notice the look of apprehension on Miguel’s face.

There’s something that gnaws at him completely. From the inside, just begging to be let out. He doesn’t know whether it’s a confession, his jealousy or anger at himself. He assumes that this feeling is a mix of all three.

He can tell that you're nervous, teeth softly biting down on your bottom lip, heels tapping the floor with impatience. If you weren’t holding your phone with two hands, he’d bet that you’d be biting at your nails. It takes everything in him not to grab you by the shoulders, forcing you to look at him and take a few deep breaths.

Soon enough, a ding is heard from your phone and he watches how your face lights up. All he can do is stand awkwardly as you tell him your date is here to pick you up. Miguel watches you as you make your way to the door, double checking your purse for anything that you may have forgotten.

A wish of ‘good luck’ dies in Miguel’s throat as you slip through the door, leaving him with nothing more than an echoed goodbye.

The second he hears the door lock behind you, a sigh seems to leave his lips. He can smell the lingering scent of a perfume that he had bought for you as a christmas present, a new favorite that you only wore on special occasions.

Silence now begins to torment him, his mind is jumping to conclusions. What if this one date will lead to a second date and then a third and then a tenth? Until eventually the day comes, when you announce that you’ll be moving out.

He’ll be left on his own, again.

And all that follows are bland text messages from you every now and again, checking up on him as a friend whilst he falls back into the shadows, forever stuck with the label of ‘roommate’.

The deafening silence continues to torture him, thoughts emerging to the idea of your date becoming the love of your life. It's completely stupid and useless to jump to this assumption but he can’t help it. He can’t help but tyrannize himself, his insecurity eating away his insides like vermin.

“Fuckin’ hell, you need to get yourself together.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, making his way over to the couch. He collapses with exhaustion, a groan leaving his body as he does so.

It takes him more than a few minutes to realize that he’s sitting in the same spot as last night. The only difference being is that there’s no pretty girl sitting between his thighs, eyes glowing at him with lust and desire. This single thought is enough to make him hard.

A curse or two is muttered under his breath as an uncontrollable bulge begins to grow in his pants. He really shouldn’t. But he does.

His fingertips run over his crotch as he reminisces about last night: the innocent look on your face, your shock at how big his cock was, your attempt to take him whole, desperately trying to fit him into that pretty little mouth of yours, and by god, it took everything in him not to keep you down there.

But that look, that glow almost dared him to. Your eyes silently expressed that this was all for him. Miguel lets out a groan, finally giving in to his needs, a hand slipping into his pants to free his aching cock from his boxers.

He gives slow, long strokes imitating what you had done yesterday. A quiet whimper leaves his throat, his thumb wiping away at the pre-cum at the crown of his length. He remembers the way his body shudders as you left tantalizing little circles at the tip of his cock, practically torturing him.

His thoughts drastically change from imagining your mouth teasing his cock to how he would tease your dripping cunt. He imagines how soaked you would be for him and wonders whether you were like this yesterday, when you were sucking him off, completely soaked through your panties.

Miguel lets out a groan at the mere thought, his hand now increasing the pace of his strokes. You’d be so tight, he thinks, so tight that your eyes would tear up at your cunt trying to take him whole. His cock would stuff every inch of you, your cunt clenching around him, your little whines persuading him to go deeper, trying to prove that you can take it all.

He wraps a tight fist around himself, pumping himself a little faster now, his breath hitched. His free hand grips at a pillow beside him, imagining that he was taking handfuls of your ass as he buried himself deeper into you. He’d start off slow, let you get adjusted to his size before building up a merciless pace.

Miguel imagines your body writhing beneath him, fingertips scratching at his back as he pleases you. Miguel begins to feel heat in his lower abdomen, his eyes are closed and brows are furrowed as he tries to focus on pornographic images of you in his mind. He imagines your whimpers, babbling to him about how good it feels. That’s all he wanted to do. Make you feel good.

“Please, please, please– fuck, don’t stop.”

Miguel’s thighs begin to tense, hips jerking slightly as he fists his cock. It feels too good to stop. It’s wrong but he can’t stop your name from escaping from his lips. He surrenders to the feelings of pleasure and complete euphoria. He feels the cord in his lower abdomen begin to snap away, desperate pleads echo off the walls as he cums, his seed spilling across his hand and lower abdomen.

Coming down from his climax, the realization of what he’s done crashes over him like a wave and suddenly he finds himself violently drowning. Drowning in a sea of his thoughts and his mistakes. Cruelly, he reminds himself that he can’t be saved and that he deserves to be alone. After all…

he has no one to blame but himself.

click here for part 3

#angel writes #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel x reader #miguel smut #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara atsv #atsv headcanons #atsv x reader #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader fluff

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tongue-like-a-razor · 4 months

Text

Brother's Best Friend - Part 11

Jake Seresin x F!Reader

A/N: Fair warning: I didn't have much time this week so this was a bit rushed and definitely not my best piece of work, but I really wanted to do at least *something* for the holidays!

Summary: The trials and tribulations of falling for your brother's best friend.

CW: New Years Eve party, banter, fluff fluff fluff

WC: ~2300

Part 1 | Masterlist

“So,” Bradley starts slowly, drawing out a suspenseful silence with a smirk as he butters his toast. “I met study group guy.”

You look up from your plate in alarm, your fork halfway to your mouth, and awkwardly meet your brother’s gaze.

Jake, who’s just set his food down to your left, picks his coffee back up, ready to make a quick exit.

“Uh, where?” you ask, trying to sound casual, but you’re so nervous that your voice wavers.

“Here,” Bradley replies with a grin as he makes his way to the table. “He came by to see how your exam went.”

“Oh?” You gulp anxiously.

“How considerate of him,” Jake notes moodily, setting his coffee back down and giving you a look.

“I agree.” Bradley sits down. “I think he wanted to compare study strategies,” he continues, then clears his throat. “Since the two of you didn’t end up studying together.”

Jake’s eyes go wide as he lets out a feigned gasp. “You didn’t?”

You give Jake an annoyed look and then glance back at your brother who is watching you with a pair of raised eyebrows. “Yeah,” you nod, “about that. Umm, the thing is…”

“You lied?” Jake brings a hand to his chest as though this revelation continues to shock him.

You glare at him irritably. “Partly.”

“Which part?” Bradley enquires, biting into his toast.

You sigh. “The part about study group guy.”

Bradley grimaces. “Why?”

“Yeah,” Jake chimes in, finally taking a seat. “Why?”

“Because I obviously made the wrong decision studying at home,” you retort, eyeing Jake bitterly. “And I just needed somebody to blame.”

Jake watches you cautiously, likely wondering if you indeed think you’ve made a mistake. Good.

“So, you bombed your midterm, big deal.” Bradley waves a hand. “We wouldn’t judge you. Guess that means he won’t be attending tonight’s party.”

You purse your lips. “Nope,” you confirm. “I’ll be all alone.”

Jake tries to catch your gaze as you rise from the table. “We’ll be here.”

“Aren’t you gonna bring your girl?” Bradley asks.

“Nah.” Jake waves a hand.

“Why not?”

Jake eyes you pointedly. “Not really sure where we stand, to be honest.”

You gasp theatrically. “Oh dear! Trouble in paradise?”

Jake throws you a flat look and grumbles, “Well, she’s sort of hard to read at times.”

“Because you’re illiterate?” you retort.

Bradley snorts while Jake scoffs in offence. “Dump her!” Bradley cries as you bring your dishes to the sink. “Life’s too short for mysteries.”

Jake sighs. “She does love to keep me guessing.”

Bradley shakes his head in disapproval after taking his last bite. “She’s playing games with you, man. It’s not worth it.” He gets up and follows you to the sink. “How ‘bout you? You need a date for tonight?”

“Huh?” you say in surprise, having been under the impression that your turn under the microscope was over.

“Remember that dude you met at the Hard Deck last summer? The one you said was ‘so hot’” – Bradley visibly shudders – “I just found out that he’s into you.”

“What dude?” Jake asks abruptly, his posture instantly going rigid.

“The one from 22,” Bradley clarifies. “The backseater. Forgot his name.”

“The douche from Michigan?” Jake makes a face and quickly rises from the table. “You think he’s hot?” he asks you incredulously.

Before you have a chance to respond, Bradley continues. “Apparently he ran into you last week at the café?”

You blink between Bradley and Jake as the latter approaches. While it’s true that you saw one of Bradley’s colleagues the previous week, you’ve since forgotten all about that encounter, because the very next day was when Jake had finally made his move. You start to back out of the kitchen but both Bradley and Jake follow you out. “I have some errands to run,” you say quickly.

“Nothing’s open,” Jake reminds you.

“Do you want me to invite him tonight or not?” Bradley asks, already scrolling through his contacts.

Jake elbows Bradley aggressively. “You’re seriously trying to get your sister laid?”

Bradley cringes. “Dude! Don’t go there!”

Jake stares at Bradley. “What do you think is gonna happen?”

You scoff at Jake incredulously. “Excuse me?”

Jake turns to look at you and places his hands on his hips with an impatient exhale. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I just don’t want her to be alone on New Years!” Bradley exclaims, still looking down at his phone.

“She’s not gonna be!” Jake cries desperately.

“I don’t want the date, Bradley,” you say, putting on your shoes despite having absolutely nowhere to go.

“Why not?” Bradley enquires.

“I just don’t. I’m fine with being alone.”

“You won’t be alone,” Jake repeats, the frustration in his voice noticeably mounting.

“I thought you liked him,” Bradley says, slightly deflated. Clearly, he assumed that he was doing you a favor.

“I don’t even know him,” you say. “I just thought he was good-looking, that’s all.”

Jake makes a face. “He’s not.”

You roll your eyes. “Appearance is subjective.”

Jake stubbornly shakes his head but makes no further comment.

“Okay, so why not give him a chance?” Bradley presses. “It’s not like you’re seeing someone. Right?”

You give Jake a quick glance before conducting a thorough examination of your own shoes. “Well, kind of.”

“Kind of?” Jake asks, slightly panicked.

You continue studying your feet. “I think.”

“Who is he? What’s he like?” Bradley asks.

“Uh,” you stall, “he’s alright.”

Jake lets out a muffled cry. “Alright?” he asks and you try not to wince at his utterly obvious outrage.

Meanwhile, Bradley raises an eyebrow. “Wow,” he says wryly. “Sounds promising.”

“What else?” Jake says quickly.

You look up at him in disbelief. “Occasionally aggravating.”

Bradley appears puzzled. “Why are you with this guy?”

Jake squares his shoulders. “He must be extremely handsome.”

Bradley looks back at you. “Is he?”

You roll your eyes. “He’s cute.”

“Cute?!” Jake exclaims.

Bradley laughs. “I really think you should give my guy a try.”

Jake crosses his arms over his chest and stands up taller. “I’m sure there’s more to this guy than just… his looks.” He’s blatantly searching your face now, as if Bradley isn’t even present.

You start to nervously fix your hair in the mirror at the front door. “I’m not interested in your guy, Bradley.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” You sigh resignedly while Jake watches your reflection. “I… I like my guy.”

Jake stares at your face in the mirror as if this is news to him. Then, his mouth slips momentarily into a smile before he sucks in his cheeks to hide it.

Bradley grimaces. “Why?”

“Because, he’s…” another reluctant sigh, “…he’s a good guy.”

“That’s kind of vague,” Jake comments, still trying to suppress a grin.

You shoot him a glare while Bradley chuckles. Then, he says, “Alright, fine. Maybe in a couple of weeks when you’re single again.”

Jake looks at Bradley sharply. “Why would she be single again?”

“Come on, when was the last time my sister liked a guy enough to stay with him long-term? She finds something wrong with everyone she dates.”

Jake shifts his weight uncomfortably. “Maybe this one will stick.”

“Doubt it.” Bradley shrugs.

“This one’s different, Bradley,” you say quietly, turning to face them again.

Jake looks back at you. “He is?”

“How so?” Bradley asks.

You pause, hesitant to reveal the truth. “He… makes me feel…”

Bradley watches you dubiously. “Pretty?”

Jake also takes a stab: “Aroused?”

You let out a weary sigh and lock eyes with Jake. “Safe.”

He stares at you with a stunned expression while Bradley nods approvingly.

“Happy,” you continue.

This time, Jake doesn’t hide his smile, but Bradley raises his eyebrows as though your response has surprised him.

“Strong,” you say.

“Wow,” Bradley mutters.

Jake lowers his gaze with a grin, but you decide to add, “And aroused, I mean –”

“Oh god!” Bradley exclaims.

Jake chuckles, glancing up at you again.

Bradley shakes his head. “I get it, you’re in love. But, Seresin – I just remembered: I’ve got the perfect girl for you!” He holds up his phone, beaming.

…

Bradley decides to invite the perfect girl just in case because he can see how much his dear friend has suffered at the hands of his mysterious lover. And the perfect girl just happens to be Jake Seresin’s exact type. You try to ignore her flirtatious behavior while Bradley all but pushes Jake in her direction. Your brother seems so keen to set Jake up, you start to wonder what his vested interest might be.

There are enough people in attendance that you can watch Jake without worrying about anyone noticing that you’re staring. So, you pour yourself a fourth martini and head back into the living room to see what your brother’s best friend is up to. You barely make it past the couch, however, when someone you’ve only met once in your life takes your hand and starts encouraging you to spin under his arm.

You glance over at Jake, whose date is also trying to get him to dance. Taking a sizeable gulp of your drink, you follow through with the spin and smile uncomfortably at your new dance partner. The room is bustling because the ball is about to drop and everyone has gathered for the countdown, so you’re forced to crane your neck every so often in order to check on Jake.

He notices your new friend right away, locking eyes with you despite his own supposed date trying to monopolize his attention. You wish you could steal a moment with him when the new year arrives, but Bradley would notice his friend’s absence in a heartbeat considering he’s been tailing Jake all night, making sure that he was having a good time.

When the champagne flutes start making their rounds and the crowd erupts in an enthusiastic countdown, however, Jake separates from his friends and starts making his way through the bodies toward you. He nods his head in the direction of the hall before he’s even come near you, inviting you to join him. But you glance back at Bradley and see that he is already searching for Jake in the crowd that’s suddenly doubled in size as everyone has made their way into the living room.

You shake your head at Jake regrettably. The last thing you need is for the year to start with Bradley walking in on the two of you making out.

Jake gestures more vigorously with his head, urging you to follow and, when you refuse, he moves closer and reaches out to grab your hand. You don’t resist when he pulls you in and, before you can check to see if Bradley has finally given up his search, the clock strikes midnight, and Jake takes your face in his hands and kisses you right there in the middle of the living room amidst the explosion of cheers that welcome the new year.

You hope there is enough commotion in your vicinity to obscure the way Jake’s hands slide sensually down to your neck and then take your shoulders as he steers you through the crowd out of the room, his lips avidly devouring yours the entire time. Somehow, the two of you make it out without even looking up and, once you’re more or less alone, Jake mutters, “Your brother is getting real fucking annoying.”

You chuckle as he plants kisses along your jawline. The two of you are still moving through the house, into the darkness of the entry hall. “He’s been extra involved today,” you agree.

“He’s been fucking annoying,” Jake repeats, sucking on the side of your neck as you come to a halt in the foyer and he wraps his arms around you.

“He’s your best friend,” you remind him.

Jake presses you gently against the front door and licks your earlobe, whispering, “Who the fuck were you dancing with?” You giggle and feel his lips spread into a smile against your skin. “Oh, you think that’s funny?” he asks, and you feel his tongue on your ear again. “You think it’s funny that I had to actively restrain myself from socking him?”

“What about you?” you say, still laughing. “You were with that girl all night!”

Jake whimpers into your neck and his hold on you tightens. “All I wanted was this.” You close your eyes when his mouth finds yours once more. “My new year’s resolution is that I’m never gonna stop kissing you,” he mutters between pecks to your lips.

You giggle again and then sigh, slightly pushing him away. “What are we going to do?”

“I just told you what I’m going to do,” he says, going in for another kiss.

You turn your head and he ends up kissing your cheek. “This is how we’re going to spend the new year? Sneaking around? Hiding in dark corners?”

Jake exhales slowly, resting his forehead on your temple. “I’m going to tell him,” he assures you.

“What are you going to tell him?” you ask, hoping that this question might lead Jake to reveal the nature of your relationship as he sees it.

He leans away from you and looks you in the eye. “That I make you feel aroused, of course.” Your jaw drops in outrage and you let out a yelp that quickly turns into a cackle. Jake is grinning widely, pleased with the effectiveness of his joke. Then, he draws you closer and his face changes shape. He squares his jaw and you see the evidence of a nervous gulp in the bob of his Adam’s apple. “I’m gonna tell him that you’re the girl I told him about,” he says, his tone low but steady. You gaze at him in silence, afraid to move a muscle lest he reconsider the sudden sincerity of his words. “The one I can’t stop talking about.” He swallows again. “The one I’ve been obsessing over.” He pauses to study your reaction as though he’s afraid he might be scaring you off. “The one that I – uh” – he takes a deep breath and then lets out a chuckle, shaking his head. He takes your hands in his and weaves his fingers through yours, tugging you forward until his lips connect with the tip of your nose. “Oh god, Baby B,” he says, leaning into you affectionately. “I should probably stop talking now.”

*That's all folks! Happy New Year!*

Read Part 12

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imwetforyourmom · 2 months

Note

HEAR ME OUT!

nicks has a girl best friend and they are super affectionate with each other (hugs, "cuddling" on the couch, etc.) and later on her and chris start dating and thats how chris knows she loves affection and is super lovey dovey. nick comments about chris stealing his girl and funny things like that. something super fluffy and cute. please and thanks <3

xoxo

thank you sm for requests love <33

if you want me to rewrite it, just lmk bae!!

affection.

warnings: none

to my bff: @leah-loves-lilies

y/n snuggled into nick, pushing her head into his side and wrapping her legs around one of his, she wrapped her arms around his torso. nick chuckles as he wraps his arms around the girl currently cuddling into him.

he slides down the couch some to get a better hold on her and to get a bit more comfy from his previous sitting position.

y/n hummed in content and mumbled the the lyrics of an audio playing on nicks phone as she watched.

chris looked at them, from the kitchen he stared at how y/n cuddled into nick like a sloth, looking awfully comfortable just hugging his brother and mumbling words.

* • •

y/n hugged nick, maneuvering her arms under his and situating herself so she was somewhat standing between his legs but also infront of him as she hugged him.

pressing her cheek into him he put his hand on her back and rubbed, before going back to buttering his toast as they stood in the kitchen, simply hugging and enjoying one anothers presence, even if they weren’t talking as long as one was touching the other, even if in a small way like hand holding, leg brushing even the smallest touch made them happy.

nick rested his chin ontop of y/ns head, humming lyrics to himself, before patting y/ns back and mumbling “I have to move, y/n.”

y/n groaned but unlatched herself from him and moved to the counter behind them, leaning into it slightly, watching her bestfriend prepare a meal for himself.

chris was sat in a chair by the dinner table, watching the whole interaction go down.

his bottom lip fed inbetween his teeth, thinking about how y/n was so touchy with nick all the time and how she was almost never seen not touching nick.

it was very clear physical touch was her love language, but what would it take for her to touch him as much as she did nick.

hell, for all he knew she might’ve just liked touching nick and no one else, shes never held or cuddled into chris as often as she did with her bestfriend, nick, I mean, they were all bestfriends just y/n tended to touch nick more than the other two boys.

surely she hugged and occasionally cuddled matt or chris, but as chris let his thoughts wonder, he couldnt help but think about how much he fucking adored her, the way her eyes lit up when she smiled, how gentle she was, the way her hands gently grazed alongst someones (nicks) skin when they werent cuddling of some sort. she just always had to be touching someone, more nick than anyone else.

sometimes he likes to think its because nick accepts the affection every single time, and so shes learned that she can always go to him. and since that shes never tested the waters with chris — chris loved, loved physical touch. he liked touching people in ways to remind them he loved them, in a sense when he touched people it was some sort of comfort overtaking his senses knowing that they knew he loved them.

as chris’ thoughts wondered on and on, he couldnt help but ask “hey y/n, you always touch nick and tell him you love him so very often, but you almost never touch matt and i, why is that?”

y/n turned to look at chris, her lips twitching as she thought of what to say. “dunno, just like touching him. I guess ive never thought about touching- ew, I hate saying it like that. makes it sound weird, all like ‘im gonna touch you’” she giggled, before collecting herself from her soon to be rant. “ive just never thought about cuddling you and matt, ya know? never crossed my mind.”

chris hummed in response, letting his mind wander with what she had just said.

maybe he should start initiating affection aswell?

* • •

it was no doubt that chris had a crush on y/n, and y/n always noticed the stolen glances, the looks on her lips being far too long for friendly, the way his cheeks heated up when he saw or came into the same room as her.

y/n also liked him, she just hadnt noticed how much she made it obvious, but neither did chris so maybe they had it in common?

* • •

over the course of the few days chris and y/n became increasingly closer and closer, but their friendship ended one night, and something else bloomed.

chris mumbled something into the side of y/ns head, his words too muffled for y/n to understand.

she moved her head off his shoulder, loosening her arms from around his body.

“what?” she asked quietly, trying not to disturb the calm and quiet atmosphere they were currently in.

the soft sounds from the tv playing in the background, the lights off but red leds lighting the room.

“I said,” he took in a breath before continuing, “can I be your boyfriend please?” his voice suddenly got quiet, his eyes darting over y/ns face, looking for signs if she was confused, disgusted, concerned or any of the sort, but none present, only a growing grin on her face.

she fully removed herself off his body as joy was slowly but surely overtaking her emotions.

“yes! yes! yes!” she spoke, her hands coming to the sides of his face to pepper kisses all over it, not just his lips but everywhere else aswell.

chris’ stomach swelled with butterflies as he felt her soft kisses all over his face, the feeling of her soft lips on his skin and the words of approval making him grin aswell.

she pressed one last kiss on the tip of his nose before mumbling sweet nothings while moving back to his arms.

• • •

y/n stared at the two boys, nick and chris, currently sitting on the couch on their phones.

she debated on who she should sit and cuddle with, I already cuddled nick this morning. she thought to herself before finally taking in a breath and moving to crawl onto chris.

chris was laying on his back, leaving little space between him and the couch cushions, y/n absolutely loved sitting/laying in the small spots of the couches, because she knew she had better access to the person she was currently sitting with.

she crawled into the little space, moving onto her side and wrapping one arm under and around chris while her legs tangled in his and her head laid on his chest.

she moved slightly so now her belly was slightly ontop of chris’ hip. finding this position comfier she sighed and closed her eyes.

nick sat up, his phone at his side as he stared at the two. his mouth dropping and eyes widening.

“damn bro, you really stole my girl.” nick scoffed, looking at chris, watching as his arm came around to y/ns back, rubbing it, giving y/n all the more comfort.

“shut up, you had her all morninggg” chris groaned, dragging out the ‘g’ for dramatics.

“yeah, well, shes been my girl for months, shes only been yours for a week now.” nick crossed his arms, adding onto the fake/play arguing.

“shhh, im trying to sleep.” y/n mumbled, hushing them, before nuzzling her face further into chris side.

chris looked at nick and gave him a teasing look.

chris was so, so grateful nick was always so accepting of y/ns touches and her words consisting of endless compliments, “I love you”’s, and overall unintentionally showing chris just how much y/n loved showing her love to others.

1303 words.

tags

@luverboychris @luvsturns @meg-sturniolo @junnniiieee07

#sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo fluff #sturniolo triplets fluff #mollys requests

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luveline · 9 months

Note

If you have any interest, how about a Spencer blurb where he's off on a case and gets or misses a late night call from the reader and is super worried, only to call them back and find them drunk and missing him. And of course the team rags on him after.

thank u for ur request! fem!reader

Spencer looks down at his phone and goes ghostly white.

"What?" Emily asks. "They had a sale at Waterstones and you missed it?"

Spencer clicks a bunch of buttons on his phone and brings it to his ear, crushing limp hair to his neck. "Seventeen missed calls," he says.

Derek comes to the rescue, though the lightness in his voice is slightly forced, "Don't panic, wonderboy. Who wouldn't be eager to talk to you at… two AM?"

"Is that the time difference?" Emily asks, leaning forward in concern.

Even Hotch puts down his pen. The team listens to the phone ring. It loops, loops, loops, and everybody breathes a sigh of relief when you finally answer. If something happened to you Spencer wouldn't survive it. Nor after everything he's already been through.

"Hey?" he says. There's a gap of silence. "Y/N, are you there?"

"Spencer!"

Spencer turns away from the table they've congregated at and looks through the open window at the parking lot, police cars roaming in and out of spaces. "What's wrong?"

"I miss you so much."

Spencer's nose wrinkles of its own accord. "Yeah? You sound odd. Are you– are you drunk?"

Derek laughs. Like marionettes held tight with strings suddenly cut, the team stop their stressing and send each other knowing, amused looks.

"Just a little bit!" you promise, clearly lying. Your voice catches on the syllables like they're coated in sticky honey, the slightest slurring tripping you up at the end. "We went for– to Chilli's. I had a blooming onion and seven margaritas!"

"I can tell."

"I'm really sorry, Spence, I know I'm not s'posed to call when you're away," you begin.

Spencer glances back. Rossi and JJ have returned with coffee and a late dinner, neither of them bothering to act as though they aren't listening to the conversation.

"No," Spencer says, turning back around and hunching inward, "that's the opposite of what we talked about, isn't it? You can call whenever you want to, but I can't, you know, always answer. I thought something bad happened. Maybe next time you could text me?" Rather than call almost twenty times and give him a heart attack.

Laughter echoes from behind. They team act like a teasing family sometimes, Spencer their teenage son who's never dated.

He would fluster if you weren't talking to him in loud but loving tones, "I can barely walk, texting wasn't happening. I'm para-spelgic."

"You're not," he says, firmly at first. "Are you? Who's with you? Is Rebecca there?" Rebecca being your best friend. Spencer trusts her to take care of you.

"She was, but she said that I– uh… She said I talked about you too much and made her nauseous. I feel kinda sick, too, but I just needed to talk to you, Spence. I miss you. I miss you, are you home soon?"

"Is Rebecca really not there?" he asks. He thinks about the room full of special agents he's standing in and drops his voice to a murmur. "I miss you too."

"She's making toast or something."

"That's good. It'll soak up the margaritas."

"I don't want toast, I want you! Please come home safe, angel. I really wish you were here to do that thing with my ear."

Spencer has to give in. You're speaking so loudly it's impossible the team hadn't heard it, but he can't find the will to be embarrassed any longer. You're drunk and ridiculous and all you can think about is him.

"I wish I was home, too. Do I need to worry about you? Make sure you're drinking water, okay? Alcohol makes you dehydrated, you'll get a bad headache."

"It makes me miss you," you whine.

He smiles fondly. "There's no cure for that." A door opens over the line. "Is that Rebecca?"

"Yeah." Murmurings. "She says sorry for letting me get so drunk, but she didn't let me do anything. It's like you always say, Spence, I can do whatever I set my mind to."

"And you set your mind to getting drunk at Chili's."

"Exactly!"

You talk a little more before he hangs up. He knows you're getting taken care of.

A gaggle of smiling faces greet him as he turns around. "Everything okay, 'angel'?" Derek asks.

Spencer puts his phone in his pocket. You'll text him in the morning with a hankering for Tylenol and sore eyes, but you'll be fine. "Everything's great."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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yanderenightmare · 1 year

Note

Yandere Satoru and Suguru sharing a darling is what makes me OwO

Gojo Satoru & Geto Suguru

TW: yandere, noncon, condescension

fem reader

It wasn’t really that you were weak… You were just unfortunate.

Unfortunate – to have been placed in the same year as them – Gojo and Geto, the two most promising students Jujutsu High had ever seen.

If only you would keep a lower profile like Shoko – and not be so determined to become the best – you’d be better off and not wind up on your ass each and every day sparring with the two boys – who really were the best.

But something about their high-and-mighty attitude just makes them impossible for you to ignore.

The way they taunt and jeer, grinning their shit-eating grins – grinding your gears to no end – forcing you to try about anything to just, at least once, come out on top.

Like now, in the padded sparring room – where you, again, could only barely find a foot to stand on – with what ground you had managed to keep thus far, visibly only thanks to your cocky opponent allowing it.

“You sure you wanna be a jujutsu sorcerer?” Gojo asked nonchalantly, his lanky arms slung around your smaller body with ease, resting his chin off the nook of your neck – unbothered by how you tried and struggled to shake him off.

You were dewy-faced and panting already while he hadn’t even broken a sweat yet. And it only aided in making your head grow ever hotter with vexation. “Take this seriously-” You growled back at him.

But he ignored you – the same way he ignored whatever amount of cursed energy you tried fighting him with. “I mean… I’m sure there are a lot of other things you’d be better suited for.”

After all… the last thing you’d want is for him to take this seriously.

“Tch- like what exactly?” You bit out, hating his suggestive tone though needing him distracted with the conversation – thinking it would be a good stall to give you some much-needed rest where you stood, trying to hide how tired you were – forcing heavy breaths into smaller ones that made your lungs ache for air and your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

Your weapon had already been thrown to the other side of the room – burst into a shattered broken mess of fragments you wouldn’t even be able to butter toast with anymore. And it hadn’t been the first one. In fact, the entire arsenal had been turned to splinters, leaving you to fight the boy who’d broken them all with only your hands to spare.

“Oh- you know….” He drawled, thinking it cute how you tried withholding your exhaustion from him. Pulling you a little closer to his chest – snuggling into you while thinking – his tongue out in concentration before calling out to the other boy. “Oh- help me out, Suguru.”

Geto sat waiting his turn next to the door, smiling like a cat with eyes closed. “Hmm… something cute…” He began before answering. “Like a maid.”

You sneered – eyes lowering into a glare at the raven-haired boy who still, without a hitch, kept calmly smiling back at you.

Gojo offered a small snicker, adding to the ridicule, before whispering. “Or a housepet.” His voice, low and mocking in its whispering, yet loud right at your ear – with lips brushing your ear in a way you could tell he was smirking like his equally grating friend.

And it all just coaxed another spur of much-unrewarded effort where you once again tried your best at getting free – another growl spurring up from your gut with a vengeance. “Shut up-”

“Don’t you agree, Suguru?” The white-haired boy ignored you again – though tightened his grip in correspondence – his long arms thrown in a cross around your front with slender fingers curling, now almost painfully, into the soft flesh of your midriff – having lifted your shirt enough for him to touch your skin directly.

“Mh, I can see it… doing laundry, cleaning the house, making dinner-” The other agreed, standing up with an unbothered sigh, taking slow and soft steps over the white padding to reach the two of you – his shape always much larger, growing like a mass of something menacing – dark and towering and shadowing like some great statue – making you feel so unbelievably small.

Pulling his hand from his baggy pant pockets, you flinched as it thumbed your chin to make you look up at him – all your struggles gone and almost replaced with shivers instead – now with feeling the intense weight of being not just outmatched but outnumbered too.

Feeling all but swallowed between the two, an inch of regret steadily crept about your gut, quenching what former fire used to fuel your spirit – leaving you with only an intense sense of defeat and fear.

His smile split with teeth, and you paled in light of it – breath thin as he leaned in closer.

“You’d look pretty natural wearing a pretty kimono… waiting for your man to come home.” He whispered, and you swallowed thickly in return, looking up into his slim eyes, who looked down at you with that small smile of his which seemed to carry a weight that felt crushing.

You tried keeping cool – tried grasping for any semblance worth of calm you could manage – even as Gojo’s hands, warm and soft, gently started messaging circles into your sides – his lips still at your ear in hot breaths and playful whispers. “Sure, it doesn’t pay the same way being a sorcerer does, but I’m sure a girl like you’d be grateful for pretty clothes and a big house.”

Geto hummed in agreement, his hand sliding from your chin to cup your cheek – with hot breaths fanning your face making goosebumps spring to the surface – adding to the statement. “And a warm bed to sleep in at night.”

You let out a whimper then, with lips quivering. The atmosphere had changed – turned thick with something else, something suffocating – something that left you faint, both speechless and breathless – whilst you warily looked up into the dark set of eyes above you and shivered at the feel of the teeth behind you.

“All in exchange for some cooking and cleaning,” Gojo murmured against your neck, pulling your body closer while it shook unsteadily between the two of them.

“Don’t forget the other thing….” Geto hinted beneath his breath, his lips brushing your silently parted ones with a smirk, savoring that terribly troubled look on your face with an amused one of his own.

“Right~ The other thing~” Gojo purred, also enjoying your faltering, liking the feel of your heartbeat quickening beneath his fingertips.

“What thing?” You asked weakly – warily – as though scared of the answer.

Gojo snickered while Geto answered. “I think it’s better we show you this one.”

You were on your back the next second – your wrists pinned beneath the strength of Gojo’s fists where he kneeled above your head – his black shades slipping down his nose as he stared down at you with his smile and eyes gleaming in a look you could only call crazy.

Geto was kneeling at your other end, still towering over you – with big hands spreading your thighs, holding them tight to keep you from kicking.

Your mind hadn’t really processed the possibility yet – hadn’t really allowed it to sink in – but it was dawning on you now – rapidly – while watching the boy lift your skirt up passed your panties.

“Hey! Stop-” You squealed, trying to bring your knees together to hide yourself. But you seemed smaller than you’d ever felt now, on the ground beneath the two boys who just dwarfed you in comparison.

“Think of it as part of training.” Geto offered casually while shuffling closer – his hands holding you beneath the knees, keeping you spread. “As a housepet, you need to learn these things.”

“And if you’re still adamant about becoming a jujutsu sorcerer… this is a realistic field exercise too.” Gojo added, his eyes big and ice-blue, glowing with something that seemed to seize you by the throat as he stared down at the growing hysterics on your pretty face. “I mean, with a face like this, I’m sure both curse users and curses themselves would want a taste before killing you.”

Geto removed his jacket, casting it aside. “We just want to help prepare you for what’s out there.” He excused, leaning over you with hands running over your chest, undoing button after button while you squirmed.

“No, please-” You shook your head, eyes closed tight in a desperate wish to wake up – the initial disbelief of the situation quickly leaving you every second of feeling hands touching more and more of your naked skin.

You choked on it, never having felt fear quite like it – soon finding hot streams of tears rushing down your face where you struggled to find air.

“We wouldn't want you going out into the real world thinking everyone’s going to play nice with you like we have.” Geto mouthed – eyes thirsty while looking at your cleavage – his large hands cupping your tits over the bra, making you squeak.

“Stop-” You sobbed, but like always, both of them ignored you.

“I’m sorry to say it-” Gojo cut you off, bowing down closer until his eyes were but an inch away from your teary trembling ones. “But the real world doesn’t care about you the way we do and won’t protect you like we will.”

Geto’s hands slipped beneath your skirt – his fingers carding into the fat of your hips, smoothly hooking his fingers onto the band of your panties before slowly beginning to peel them down your thighs. “This is for your own good.”

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wonuwonder · 4 months

Text

toast rule — jeon wonwoo (m)

content: wonwoo smut, fem reader x wonwoo, semi-public sex (bathroom), unprotected sex (pls wrap it), non relationship, anything else lmk!! 1.7k words

an: minors dni. not proof read! kinda rushed it so will be correcting mistakes later, lowercase intended. english is not my first language.

“you know there’s a saying, that if you avoid eye contact during a toast you’ll have bad sex for seven years” you say jokingly, you had gone out to some fancy restaurant for Soonyoung’s birthday, your best friend. some of your friends were mutual, and they were here as well as his own friends, which you knew a couple of them.

one of his friends, whom you’d always had seem to have some sort of tension with, Wonwoo; stares directly at you from across the table, smirks and, leans closer, extending his glass of wine to the middle of the table, and says;

“guess I better do it right” he locks his eyes with yours, and toasts your glasses together while the others do the same, you both stare directly at each other while taking a sip, and when you finish, he adds “cheers” his gaze going from your eyes to your red lips, and so on.

for the rest of the night, you become more aware of his presence, exchanging glances while pretending to pay attention to the conversation going on at the table. you catch him staring at you a couple of times, and he catches you doing the same, smirking everytime he does.

after a while, you feel something slightly brushing your leg, you quickly dismiss it, but then you feel it again, and again, shifting in your seat, you look under the table while trying not to move around so much, and you notice it wasn’t something, but someone doing it. you look up, and find him again, smirking at you, biting his lower lip as if trying to hold in his laugh, you glare back at him, and then look around the table to see if anyone had noticed you two bickering, but as you both were the last on each row at the table, no one was really paying attention.

“i’ll be back in a sec” you say to Seokmin, who was sitting next to you, all flustered, you glare at him again and get up from the table, heading towards the bathroom.

you look at yourself in the mirror and fix your hair, hell, you looked hot, wearing a little black dress that hug your curves perfectly, with just the perfect amount of cleavage, you’re about to put your red lipstick on when you see Wonwoo, entering the bathroom, quickly finding your gaze in the mirror.

“hey, what are you doing here?“ you ask as he gets to you, turning around, he’s standing in front of you —towering over you.

“looking for you, i got bored at the table” he gets closer, and brushes a strand of hair out of your face and rests his hand on your jaw, he leans towards your now exposed ear and says “wasn’t fun anymore if you weren’t there to look at” he continues, lifting your chin up, you can’t help but stare at his lips and his piercing onyx like eyes, as he does the same to you

“you weren’t so bad to look at yourself either” you say back playfully, intertwining your arms around his neck.

he grabs you by the hips and tugs you against him, making you whimper under his touch, already turned on by the sudden interaction, he leans closer, pushing you against the counter, while pressing his hips against yours, he brushes the hair out of your neck, but before kissing you he asks “may i?”, you nod, giving him the confirmation that you were as needy as he was, and honestly, you’d been wanting this since the night started.

he kisses your neck sofly, leaving a trail of kisses from the back of your ear, all the way to your clavicle.

“wonwoo…” you say lowering your voice, and he stops to look at you again, you heard people walking towards the bathroom, “anyone could walk in here any moment” he doesn’t think twice as he’s already pulling you towards the last stall in the bathroom, locking the door behind him just in time as people come inside the bathroom.

he stares back at your frame, all pressed up in that tiny little black dress you had decided to wear for tonight, that made your legs look endless, and hugged every inch of your body tight, which had been driving him crazy the minute he saw you walk into the restaurant.

“fuck it” he groans under his breath, and grabs your face kissing you hungrily, pressing you against the tiny wall, the kiss getting hotter by the second, he lowers his hands to your waist gripping you even tighter against him, you huff out a moan in response, and he quickly covers your mouth with his hand, reminding you you weren’t alone, your eyes go wide, and he grins at you, before he continues kissing you, your hands roaming all over his toned body.

his shoulders looked so wide in that white shirt that had been hugging his muscles too tight, distracting you all night. your fingers quickly start to unbotton it.

“can’t wait huh princess?” he says pulling back from attacking your neck with kisses, —that were definitely going to leave marks—

“wonwoo please touch me” you say, voice all breathy from the heat, he wastes no time doing so and pushes your dress up to your waist, revealing the tiny red lace thong you had wore tonight, he groans when he sees it, putting it to the side for easy access, his fingers dipping in your arousal, spreading all over your pussy, massaging your clit, making you gasp, one of your hands leaving his neck to cover your mouth, just in time for when he adds one finger.

“you like that baby?” he says to your ear and all you can do is nod, overwhelmed by all the pleasure, he adds another one and curls then inside of you while continuing to play with your clit with his thumb, your eyes squeezing shut at the sensation.

“fuck won-“ you manage to say, he looks at you with his darkened eyes.

your hands reach for his pants, and you unbuckle his belt almost desperately, his erection pressing hard against the fabric, you start stroking his bulge from outside his boxers, his cock painfully hard by now and he hitches a breath the moment you do.

“i need you, right now” you demand and his hand leaves your pussy, shutting your mouth with his fingers, making you taste yourself and you take his fingers gracefully, coating them with your tounge.

“i need you to keep quiet baby” he whispers as he gets his boxers down his legs along with his pants, his throbbing cock sprinting against his lower abdomen, and fuck it was huge.

you reach for it almost instantly, stroking him delightfully, his head tipping back and biting his lower lip to keep quiet.

he stares back at your pleading eyes and you say “please fuck me won” your words coming out like music to his ears, he grabs one of your legs and hoists it up behind his waist, making space for him to fit between your legs, squeezing his forearm tightly to steady yourself, he lines up against your core, his cock already leaking with pre cum, and he sinks into you harshly, both of you looking down to where your bodies connect, your forehead falling against his shoulder biting your lips to keep shut. he slowly puls out and sinks back in, picking up the pace, he starts pounding on you, you both already a mess while trying to make as less noise as possible, his mouth finds yours again, kissing you passionately, you groan against his mouth as he finds your favorite spot, you can’t hold much longer.

“won… m’gonna” you start and he grips your hip tightly with his free hand, squeezing your thigh with the other.

“me too”, he thrusts into you one more time and you both come undone, you bite his shoulder trying not to scream, and he grabs your other leg, making you wrap yourself around his waist to sit on the toilet lid, straddling him, as he was still inside you, you both ride out your highs.

he rests his head on your chest and you play with his hair, resting your cheeck on top of his head, and you stay like that for a bit, as his cum drips out of your pussy. after he pulls out, he starts to clean you up, and you both dress yourselves as better as possible to look like nothing happened.

after you’re done, you try to figure out if there’s someone still in the bathroom, pressing your ear against the tiny door, wonwoo wasting no time in looking at the way your ass cheeks looked pressed in the fabric of your dress.

“you think someone heard us?” you say, while still trying to hear if there was someone else in the bathroom, he grips your ass tightly with one of his hands, making you turn around to look at him.

“probably…” he starts, “not that i care” he says and starts kissing you again, but you shut down the kiss before it starts getting heated again.

“won we need to go back, they’re probably wondering where the hell we went” you mutter out, he steals a kiss from you again, “i’ll go see if there’s anyone here and in the hallway, so you can escape first” you leave the stall trying to look as normal as possible, while fixing your dress and examine each stall, luckily for you, you were alone, but you open the door of the bathroom, and find minghao leaving the men’s bathroom.

“hey, y/n, you okay?” he asks.

“yes! just, um lady problems” you reply, and his eyes squint, not buying any of it obviously,

“… okay, see you at the table” he says back grinning at you, and when he turns to walk away, you go inside the bathroom to free wonwoo from the stall, “you can leave now, quickly” you say and he gets out, “when you get back to the table, say you were outside smoking or something, minghao was in the bathroom, so you can’t say that” you explain and he nods, “alright, alright” you walk towards the door together, but before opening it, he turns around and says, to your ear.

“next time we do this, i want to hear every little sound from you” he bites his lips and grabs the door handle.

“what makes you think there will be a next time?” you bite back.

“the way you loved my cock” he winks at you before leaving the bathroom, with the biggest smirk on his face.

an: notes comments or reblogs are appreciated, just wanna read what you think😭

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kingpippthe2nd · 8 months

Text

It took me until this week to realise how much season two has changed my perspective on... well almost everything Good Omens.

I finally rewatched season 1 for the first time since Neil broke my stupid little heart. Honestly, I had convinced myself that I was over the heartbreak.

Do I torture myself on this website on a regular basis? Yes. Do I refuse to read fics without a "hurt/comfort" tag? Yes. But I was fine. I was healing. I was good. I was over it.

Did episode 3 hit differently after everything I'd been through after S2? A bit. But nothing I didn't expect.

And then there was S1E6. The Ritz. Nightingales. And I just wasn't ready. I had heard that song a thousand times throughout the last few weeks. But context does seem to matter. Because here I was, three notes in, sobbing mercilessly.

This scene used to be a safe space for me. A warm little patch of sunshine to curl up in, when I felt down. It was hot cocoa on a rainy autumn day. It projected to so much love and comfort. And now it's all twisted.

The contrast to S2E6 couldn't be sharper. Oh, what a beautiful web of similarities Neil has woven for us. Here are our two favourite idiots, smiling at each other, so in love, not a care in the world, because the world is safe and they are toasting it. Yet I know, what the future holds for them. I know, how incapable of truely communicating they are. I know, how they will break each others hearts, paving each others way to hell with all the best intentions.

You have to hand to Neil. He really knows how to tell a good story.

I haven't dared to listen to " A Nightingale sang in Berkeley Square" in the last week. It will take me a good long while to work up the courage again.

I don't even know, how to end this mess of a post. I just hope, Neil will bring the song back in season 3 and make it be all fluffy and comfortable and lovely again.

To the world, my friends.

#no hot takes to be found here #i'm just rambling #don't mind me #I'm fine #nightingales or no nightingales that's the question #good omens #good omens 2 #good omens spoilers #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #neil gaiman

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zreamy · 10 months

Text

spf 23

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 <;333

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.

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.

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.

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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#sunghoon smut #enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen scenarios #sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon smut #park sunghoon #park sunghoon x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen oneshots #sunghoon oneshots #sunghoon imagines #enhypen hard hours #fic.sunghoon

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