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#if only you can make it through the next few hours to safety
slafkovskys · 6 hours
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tarnished ❈ a golden au blurb
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summary: in which not all that glitters is gold
word count: < 1k
warnings: angst, brief language
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maybe it would have hurt less if he had said goodbye.
that first summer together was supposed to be them. just them. without the pressures of school or hiding from scottie’s superiors or only being able to share kisses in dark corners of bars or the safety of their apartment. their two weeks in atlanta went by fast with one week in the city and another at her grandparents’ ranch, it was only a matter of time before the boys’ teams came calling for development camp.
ryan went first.
she kept up with everything the caps would post to their socials, feeding it through to the gopher’s various media outlets along with the other boys who were at development camps that week as well. she packs a bag and flies up to minnesota the day before he comes home and the day that jimmy’s due to report to st. louis. she hugs her parents goodbye and leaves them with the excuse of an event she was required to attend.
she spends a few hours with him at the apartment before shuttling him off to the airport, giving him the biggest hug and a kiss to his lips. she’s not really thinking about how he holds on a little bit longer or how he looks like he’s fighting a battle in his own head as he turns to check his bags. she gets back into ryan’s car thinking she’ll be back tomorrow to pick up the aforementioned man and she’ll be back for jimmy in a week.
it would have hurt less if they hadn’t found out through social media.
ryan and scottie were both practically itching to have jimmy back the next day. it had been practically radio silence from him the past week, which neither could hold against him because they both knew that this was big for him.
a summer storm was sweeping through minnesota and the two were squished in the hammock on their balcony when ryan’s phone lit up. scottie watches as the screen illuminated his face before his eyebrows furrowed, “what the fuck?”
“what’s wrong?” scottie turns her body to stare at ryan, watching as his face morphs through a variety of emotions, “ryan, what’s going on?”
“don’t-” and scottie wishes she had listened as she snatches his phone from his hand. her eyes scan over the same page that he was looking, the one that caused him to go through a handful of emotions within a matter of seconds.
what scottie sees on his phone screen makes her stomach churn. staring right back at her is jimmy’s smiling face flanked by either of his parents. in front of him is a stack of papers and she doesn’t miss the pen in his hand. her eyes trail up to read the caption,
jimmy snuggerud has agreed to terms on a three-year, entry-level contract. #stlblues
“did you know?” scottie’s voice shakes as she can’t tear her eyes away from the screen, “please don’t lie to me. is this some sick joke that you two are playing on me? did he say that he was staying just to go and do this?”
lightning flashes above their heads and thunder rolls through the sky as ryan quickly shakes his head, “scottie, baby, i’m finding this out right now, just like you are.”
“he-” she cuts herself off when a video pops up at the top of the feed. jimmy’s still smiling face takes up ryan’s phone screen once again, only this time he’s smiling at an unfamiliar woman who’s holding a microphone to his lips.
“so, jimmy,” her accented voice breaks through the night, “you originally said that you were going to be staying at minnesota for another year, but here you just signed your elc. what changed your mind?”
“yeah, um,” he scratches the back of his head like he always did when he was nervous, “just the atmosphere this past week, getting to explore the city some, having some talks with the guys, my family-” scottie can’t ignore the sting at those words, “i figured now was the best time. minnesota was great for me, but i feel like i’ve done what i can. nothing holding me there.”
she can’t stop the sob from escaping her lips and ryan rips his phone from her hands, quickly turning it off and gathering the girl in his arms, “he doesn’t mean that-”
“why would he say that then?” she questions, “did i mean nothing to him? did we mean nothing to him?”
ryan stays quiet because he can’t give her an honest answer. he feels as though he was just hit by a train, left exposed and still responsible for cleaning up the aftermath of someone else’s mess. he slips his hand underneath scottie’s shirt and rubs at her spine, trying to let him know that while he can’t explain what was happening, he was still here.
“scottie, it’s going to be okay. we’re going to be okay,” he tries, “we don’t need him-”
“everything is not okay, ryan!” she shouts through tears, “i need him because-”
it would have hurt less if-
“because i’m pregnant, ryan.”
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bellamysgriffin · 3 months
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ULTIMATE SHIPS CHALLENGE - Face-Touching Scenes [1/5]
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alexthetrashyracoon · 1 month
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Simon wants to marry you.
This fact was as clear as rain on his mind. You were the love of his life, he was ready to settle down with you and grow old.
So Simon prepared everything for that special day, it was your fourth year anniversary and Simon wants to ask you the biggest question someone could ask and he hoped, maybe even prayed despite not believing in any higher deity, that you would say 'yes' to his proposal.
He has planned out the whole day, from the moment you woke to the moment you would close your eyes for the night again, everything was supposed to be perfect.
Simon brings you breakfast in bed, watching your smile brighten when you see the freshly pressed orange juice and the fresh buns, still warm from the bakery. "Happy Anniversary." He whispers before slipping back into bed behind you, pulling you between his legs and stealing some of the freshly cut Mango from your plate.
When breakfast is over, you two made a mess out of each other while trying to feed each other, he scoops you up and carries you into the bathroom, telling you to get ready and that he has a lot of plans for today which causes you to become perceptive. Immediately starting to question him about his plans, but he's still a trained soldier, he withstands your flow of questions.
Another plan of Simon for today was bringing you to a fair, the same one you two met four years ago.
Here he wanted to ask you to marry him, on top of the Ferris wheel where you two had been stuck together four years ago due to a technical issue with the electronic.
But after spending a few hours walking the fair ground, having to walk back to his car once to bring Lord Otto from Otterson, the plush Otter he won you at one of the stupid and usually very rigged fair games, to safety and out of the way. You make it to the Ferris wheel and Simon's face fell.
"Out of order..." He breathes and runs a hand through his short blonde hair, staring up at the still standing wheel and the dangling cable cars.
"Damn." You curse softly next to him and scratch your neck. "Well, maybe we can ride it another day, mhm?"
"Yeah, maybe. Well, we can't change anything now." He chuckles and squeezes the velvety box in his back pocket. Keeping it safe until you two would reach the next destination.
The small restaurant by the corner where you two lived was filled with loud voice, happy laughter, children running around, not that Simon minded, he knew you were a very outgoing person and enjoyed the social interactions from such evenings.
Simon had reserved a table a few weeks ago and the waiter brings you and him over, Simon shushing the poor man who just wants to help you sit.
He is your boyfriend, bloody hell, he can do something so simple as helping you get seated.
"I know it is our anniversary, Simon," You chuckle as you put down the glass of wine Simon has ordered for you and him, "But something feels different. I just don't know what. Special..."
"Four years is just a long time, love. Maybe your brain finally catches up with... wha-?" Simon wants to be cheesy with you before asking you the question of all questions when suddenly his feet feel wet and he looks down, seeing water come from the kitchen.
His second attempt of asking for your hand has been sabotaged by a broken water pipe.
Simon curses internally as he carries you back outside, not wanting to get your feet wet and cause you catching some flu.
Well, there is only the romantic walk through the nearby park which is empty around this time of the night, so you two can walk around the pond and watch the fireflies and swans before he can go down on one knee and finally ask.
But before he even get you through the sturdy iron gates that allowed entrance to the park, his phone rang, Prices' number on the screen and everything in Simon screams to ignore his Captain for the sake of your relationship and your future.
He apologizes and takes the call, listening to Price explaining that they've got information about a certain Russian Terrorist planning an attack and that they had to meet within the next hour.
"It's fine." You reassure him when he brings you back to your shared apartment, squeezing his hand with a gentle smile on your lips. "I had a lot of fun today with at my side. And saving the world is much more important. We can celebrate another time, Si."
"You're too forgiving." Simon replies and presses his chapped lips against your forehead. "But it's not fine. I had the whole day planned out. And the universe seems against me at all, bloody hell. All I wanted to do tonight was asking you to marry me. And everything I've tried blew. The Ferris Wheel, the restaurant, even the walk..."
You cut him off before he can talk himself into a frenzy by wrapping your arms around his neck, having to stand on your tiptoes and planting your lips on his.
"Yes." You grin when you pull back. "Yes, I will marry you, Simon Riley. I will marry you."
Maybe he should have simply asked you this morning during breakfast, might have saved him from getting another grey hair on his head. But sometimes the simple answer is hidden behind the complicated ideas.
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strawberrysturniolo · 3 months
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DEALER CHRIS WITH BENEFITS EATING SEX CHOCOLATE FIC!!!!
lets trip // dealer!chris
summary: your dealer comes over to smoke, and when you get the munchies, you discover a stash of sex chocolates. oral (male receiving). breeding kink. high sex. dominant chris. friends with benefits.
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I’ve been buying weed from him for months now. He was only ever supposed to be my plug, nothing more. I didn’t even think we were capable of being friends above the simple conversations we had over transactions.
It’s not up for debate that this guy is hot as shit. Everyone knows it. He’s known in town for being everyone’s favorite dealer. The guys think he’s cool, and the girls are obsessed with him. I think some girls started smoking just so they could be with him at some point. Some probably expected to take it to the next level and fuck him. That wasn’t my plan at all, but somehow, here I am.
I found about him through my friend. Her boyfriend bought from him, and they helped me connect to Chris when things got hard and I decided to start smoking.
We hit it off from the jump. I was highly attracted to him, but we just seemed to connect in certain ways that I wasn’t expecting.
He just… understood me. He started taking care in me that I don’t think he was planning on developing either. He started watching how much I was buying, questioning my safety, my mental health, everything.
When he first started getting flirty, I didn’t think anything of it. I assumed that’s how he was with every female customer. I thought that was his way of marketing to them and ensuring they would come back to see him. He wants to make money more than he wants to have sex with his customers, shockingly.
He’s a good guy. He’s a little misunderstood. He definitely has a soft spot underneath the metal plates that protect his body.
Me:
out of weed. can i buy some off you?
hot dealer:
Out on deals rn. Won’t get back until late. I can come when I finish if you want. How bad are you out?
Me:
just ran out
hot dealer:
Just? And your already asking for more? Bad girl. Drugs are bad. Unless this is your excuse for me to come see you.
Me:
maybe both. come find out for yourself
hot dealer:
Be there in an hour.
The next hour moved by painfully slow. This is either because I’m waiting to see Chris, or because I’m waiting for weed.
Chris and I have had sex a few times. It’s always great. I’m always left wondering if we should continue or if it’s time to call it quits and stick to our dealer to customer relationship.
I feel sick at the idea of losing him like that.
My apartment door opens two hours later, a voice following.
“Munchkin?” Chris calls out. “Where you at?”
I walk out of my bedroom, peeking my head out first. A smile pulls at my lips without even thinking about it. He does that to me. It’s aggravating.
“What happened to an hour? It’s been two,” I enlighten him on his lateness, wrapping my arms around him as I take in the subtle scent of weed on him.
I sink my head into his shoulder, feeling the warmth radiating off his body from his brown hoodie. He pairs it with a pair of camouflage cargo pants and white Air Force sneakers.
“Has it?” he asks me, playing dumb. He lets out a subtle whine before squeezing me closer. “Missed me that bad, huh?”
“Don’t let it get to your head,” I roll my eyes, letting go of him. There’s a loss in me when our bodies disconnect. “How was business today?”
He nods, pursing his lips a little as he thinks. “Not bad. Same as usual. Some stupid kids, other people who think they know more than me. It’s nothing new.”
I open my fridge, grabbing a soda for him, the same routine every time he comes over.
“Hey, I don’t wanna sound like a dick,” he says as he cracks his can open. “I’ve been so fucking busy today, I haven’t eaten. I don’t wanna raid your fridge or anything, but have you eaten? Do you wanna get anything?”
I shake my head. “I ate a bit ago while I was studying. I have to get more groceries anyway, so you can eat whatever you want, if you can find anything.”
“Have I ever told you you’re the best ever?” he grins.
My cheeks flush pink. “Ehhhh, maybe once or twice.”
He presses a kiss to my cheek and says, “Well you are.”
He then proceeds to investigate in my pantry, cabinets, and fridge, pulling out a snack for himself.
“How much did you bring?” I ask him, referring to the weed he owes me.
“Three grams,” he responds through chews.
“How much do I owe you this time?”
He shrugs. “Don’t worry about it.”
I drop my shoulders. “Dude.”
“Don’t fight me on it,” he warns. “You should be glad I’m giving you free weed. Be appreciative.”
“I am appreciative, but I want you to make money.”
He pouts his bottom lip, putting on an act. “That’s so cute you want me to make moneyyyyyy,” he draws out, then relaxes his face to its usual state. “That’s why I fuck with these dumbasses and over charge them. I overcharge the stupid, Munchkin gets free weed,” he explains.
I’m halfway through an eye roll when he says, “You ever tried this shit?” He lets out a little moan at the taste. “If you catch it in your mouth I’ll give you a kiss.”
Without thinking twice, I squat my legs a bit and open my mouth. Chris sends a piece of chocolate through the air, and I catch it on my tongue.
“Atta girl,” he praises. “Good catch.”
“Mmm,” I hum as the taste fills my mouth. “I think this is my roommates chocolate.”
Chris lets out a little wince. “Shit, my bad.”
“No, it’s fine. Like I said, I have to run to the store to get stuff anyway, so I’ll just get her some more. What’s the brand?”
Chris flips the box around to read the label. “Hmm. Good Relations. Kind of a strange chocolate brand. Why didn’t she just get Hershey’s or something?”
Our eyes snap to each others at the same time.
“What’d you say?!” I ask, running over to grab the box from him.
“Why does your roommate leave her sex chocolate in the pantry! Tell her to put the freaky shit in the bedroom!”
“Why are you eating shit without checking labels!”
“I didn’t know it was a sex candy factory in here!” he defends.
“Give me the box.” He tosses the package to me, and I scan the text on the back. “It says it starts working in 20-40 minutes…”
Chris pumps his fist through the air. “SCORE! I’m getting laid and I had some good chocolate.”
“I was just reading the box, you freak!”
Chris lowers his eyebrows at me. “Don’t act like you weren’t expecting me to come over and fuck you after you got your weed.”
I mumble a, “Shut up,” before putting the chocolates back in the pantry.
“So… are we gonna fight the temptation… or are we gonna fuck?”
“Give me my weed and then I’ll think about it.”
Chris frowns as he digs a hand into the pocket of his pants. “So demanding,” he says as he pulls out a bag with a few green trees inside.
“Thank you,” I smile, giving him a quick kiss on his lips before walking to my room.
He groans. “That’s all I get!”
“For now, yeah!” I call back to him over my shoulder. “Come smoke this with me and we’ll see if you get lucky.”
Chris follows me into my room, sitting down in a comfy chair in my room. His ass has imprinted into the material with how much time he spends there.
“Want me to roll for you?” he asks, peeking at me as I grab my essentials.
“Mhm,” I hum, fishing through my drawer. “You do it tighter.”
“Mmm,” he responds, sitting up a bit in the chair. He waits for me to walk back over then says, “Yeah, you know I like my shit tight,” and adds a slap to my ass, grabbing it harshly after.
I pass him a rolling tray along with some paper, watching his every move. I can do this easily, but there’s something so sexy about the way Chris does this. The focus on his face, his scrunched eyebrows, his lip poking out of his mouth, resting over his bottom lip.
His eyes are already bright red, the most beautiful blue shade complimenting them. His beard is almost clean shaven, a light beard growing in, but nothing major.
“You hear me?” he asks, his voice snapping me out of whatever trance I was put in.
“Huh?”
“I said I need a lighter,” he repeats. God knows how many times he’s said it and I wasn’t listening.
“Sorry,” I mumble, tossing him the lighter.
He rests the lighter on his thigh, then presses this thumb to my lips. “Open.”
I do as he says, sucking on his thumb for a moment. He pulls it back out and uses my saliva to seal the joint shut.
He holds the joint up the my lips, and I take it between them, letting him light the end for me.
“So obedient, aren’t you?” he asks me in a low voice.
I say nothing, only nodding as I inhale the smoke entering my mouth.
Maybe it’s the chocolate, or maybe it’s the fact that he knows exactly what to say to get me wound up.
Before I can let the smoke out, his hand grips my jaw, pulling me down to him and attaching our lips. As my mouth parts open, the smoke dances between our mouths, entering his. He sucks in a breath and smiles.
“Tastes even better from your mouth,” he whispers, pressing his lips to my chin, then under my jaw.
I hold the joint front of his face, letting him grab it with his mouth and take it between his fingers next.
“Thank you for my weed,” I whisper, watching him in a daze.
He slouches in the chair, spreading his legs in front of me. “Wanna show me how thankful you are?”
He raises his eyebrows as he tags another drag of the joint, and before I can think twice about it, I’m on my knees, unbuttoning his pants.
“Eager, aren’t you?” he teases. I ignore him and pull his pants down around his knees, bringing his underwear with it.
I don’t know what magic is in those chocolates, but in all the times I’ve seen this man’s dick, it’s clear that it’s different now. He looks bigger, like he’s throbbing so much that his dick had no option but to expand slightly. He’s thick, dark veins decorating the length, while his beet red tip leaks of precum. I swallow at the sight, taking him in.
“Nothing you haven’t seen before,” he reminds me, but still, this feels different.
“You look so good,” I groan, touching his tip and spreading the precum.
He flinched just at that touch, like it’s already sending him close to the edge. “You wanna make me feel good?” he breathes out.
I nod, spitting a line of saliva down to his dick, spreading it over his length as I lick the other side.
“Oh god,” he sighs. He takes the joint back into his mouth, chasing two highs.
He holds the joint between two fingers, his head tossed back over the top of the chair.
I suck tightly over his tip, his hips bucking up, making me take more of him. His hands hold the back of my head in a messy make-shift ponytail, his jaw slack as I suck more of him. My head starts to bob at a reasonable rhythm, his moans becoming uncontrollable.
“Fuck, that’s it baby,” he smiles lazily. “Such a good girl- Fuck.”
His hips start to meet me halfway, thrusting lightly until his tip hits the back of my throat. I let him do that a few times before a soft gag leaves my mouth, and I take myself off of him, breathing heavily. A line of spit connects my lips and his dick.
“Too much?” he asks, wiping the tears starting to drip down my cheekbones from the pressure in my throat.
“I’m okay,” I nod. “Promise.”
“You’re doing so well. Just keep doing what you’re doing. That chocolate… I can’t hold off much longer.”
I drop my head lower, sucking his balls. He shouts out a string of profanities as his head flies backwards, the hand in my hair tightening. His teeth are clenched together, and he squeezes the joint so tight that it’s nearly flattened.
I spit on his tip again, making sure he’s fully coated before I start sucking his tip again, dropping my mouth halfway down his length and bobbing it back up and down. I stroke the rest of him with one hand while I massage his balls with my other. The sound is insane, the wetness of my mouth on his dick, and the gagging as I take him as deep as I can in my throat. Not to mention his moans that are almost screams of pleasure at this point.
“Fuck!” he yells, gripping the side of the chair as he lets his release fill my mouth. “Shit, shit, shit, ohhhhhh god, baby. Yeah that’s it, take my fucking cock.”
My eyes are full, watering as he forcefully shoved his dick into my throat. I pull off of him slowly with a popping sound before I sit up, smiling at him.
“You’re insane,” he pants, smiling at me as I stand up. He slaps my ass harshly, pulling me closer to him after. He slaps both cheeks again and pulls me down to sit on his lap. He grabs my jaw and kisses me, a sloppy and wet kiss that just shows each other how badly we need more. As soon as I sit myself on his dick, I start grinding on him without a care of my rhythm. I just need a relief.
He reads my mind, wrapping his hands under my ass and scoops me into his arms. He leads us to my bed, tossing me down before he steps out of his underwear and pants, kicking them across the floor. He yanks his sweatshirt off, leaving on a tight black shirt. His hands trace my legs as he strips me of my own clothing, leaving my dripping pussy in his sight as he lowers himself between my thighs.
“Such a pretty pussy,” he says. He places his palm against my folds, feeling how wet I am. “Aw, poor girl. Need my dick in between there, don’t you?”
I nod, whimpering as the slightest touch to my clit has my entire body on fire. I’ve never felt so horny in my life, and I could kill him for not putting his fingers in me soon enough.
“Let me hear your pretty voice, then I’ll give you whatever you want,” he rationalizes, and considering how desperate I am right now, I’ll do anything he wants.
“Please, Chris,” I whine. “Please, please, anything. Just touch me.”
“Mmmm,” he smiles, dragging his plump lips over my clit until I shudder. “Let me hear that pretty voice again.”
Just as the words leave his mouth, he suctions his lips over my clit, pulling upwards and releasing it before spitting back on it. His fingers rub quickly over the bud, his eyes locked on mine.
I grip his arm, my fingers digging into his skin. “Tell me how good I’m making you feel. Tell me how badly you need to be fucked by me.”
“So bad-“
He makes me wince as his hand slaps over my clit.
“Full sentences or you get nothing,” he says through gritted teeth.
“You’re making me feel so good, Chris,” I correct myself. “I want you so- Need you to fuck me.”
“That’s a good girl,” he mumbles, pushing two fingers inside as he pushes my shirt up my chest with the other hand, instructing me to take it off. I peel the fabric over my head, discarding it to the floor. “So wet around my fingers.”
He removes them just after, a cry of desperation leaving my mouth. He sucks he’s fingers clean, then strokes his cock, his chin pressed to his chest and he stares down at himself. He leans forward, slapping his dick against my clit. My legs shake with every hit.
The tip of his dick finds my cunt, and he slips in so easily, like he was made for me. Like he was supposed to fill me up. He wraps one of my legs around his waist as he situates himself, then wraps my other leg around him, burying himself as deep as he could go.
He spit onto his thumb, pressing it onto my clit as he created friction just where I needed him, continuing to thrust himself inside of me.
“That’s it, take it baby. Take it.”
My heels dig into his back, pulling him closer, if it’s possible. His head buries into my neck, removing his fingers from my clit and replacing his hand with the movement of his pelvis, grinding it into me.
As my hands reach up to his back, trying to hold onto him, he grabs my wrists, pinning them above my head.
His breath hits my face as he locks his eyes on mine. He watches every move I make. Every moan that leaves my mouth, he’s right there to inhale it.
“Chris,” I groan, feeling myself tighten around him.
A low moan pulls from deep in his throat. “Just like that baby, I’m gonna cum in you.”
I nod, squeezing his cock with my pussy, watching as his face unfolds with pleasure.
“I’m gonna put a baby in you,” he says. “You’d like that, huh?”
I nod furiously.
“I’m gonna cum in you,” he says. “Watch it all drip out of this perfect pussy. Then I’m gonna pump my fingers in you and force it to stay inside of you.”
“Please,” I whine.
He locks one hand around both my wrists, using his free hand to grip my jaw. “Watch my face when I cum in you.”
Seconds later, his hips thrust at a rapid rate before stilling inside of me as he pumps his cum inside. His slacked jaw causes our lips to brush against each other.
As he pulls out, the last brush of our hips forces my orgasm out of me, my cum dripping out of my pussy along with his.
“Aht aht aht,” he tsks. He takes three fingers and pushes them into me. “Told you to keep this shit inside of you.”
I nod weakly. “I’m sorry.”
He presses a soft kiss to my lips. “Mhm.” He lays on his stomach next to me, breathing out a laugh. “We should snoop through her snacks more often.”
Yeah, we fucking should.
tag list: @secret-sturniolo @chrisloyalgf @strnilolo @jellybeanbby @qwertytit @55sturn @sleepysturnss @creamoncreamoncream2 @sturnvvz @swaggygirlboss123 @angelworldspost @patscorner @ducksturniolo @mattitties @luv4kozume @mbbsgf @freshloveforthefit @ripmattitude @gamermattsgf @strniololoverr @urmom2bitch @sturnitup @luvmila444 @st7rnioioss @sturniolosreads @1201pm-blog @pepsiskiess @alorsxsturn @sturniolopepsi @sturnsgasoline @sturns-posts @sstvrnioloo @strawberrymilk4k @ratatioulle @kiibichio @nickmillersn1gf @milesfordays11 @l9vesick @mattsturnzzz09 @mattnchrisworld
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cameronspecial · 5 months
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Let Me Take Your Boat Card, Angel
Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: SMUT
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 1.7K
Summary: Rafe continues to make their Spring Break interesting with his bucket list item.
A/N: This was suggested by the lovely @mellillasstuff, who I love to talk about Drew Starkey with! I hope you like it, Babe. The gif is special for you.
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They spent the day in Mykonos, Greece and now, the yacht is drifting to Turkey. Their last Spring break of their lives is coming to an end in a few days and Y/N and Rafe are trying to make the most of it. Rafe sees this trip as the perfect opportunity to fulfill a bucket list item for him. “Come on. Let me take your boat card, Angel,” he begs, walking over to her on the bed. She shakes her head with a giggle, “That isn’t a thing, Rafe. Plus, we literally had sex this morning on this boat, so if it was a thing, then you’ve already taken it.” “It’s not the same. It’s not boat sex unless it is on the top deck and out in the open,” Rafe argues. He jumps into bed with her, making the mattress bounce under both of them. Her hand finds his cheek, “What kind of weird fraternity shit are you making up, Rafe?” He kisses the palm of her hand. “It’s not a weird fraternity thing. It’s… it’s kinda a fantasy of mine. Making love to my angel under the stars in the middle of nowhere with the sound of the waves keeping us company. It’s just you and me.” She, of course, wants to help him achieve his fantasy and it honestly sounds so romantic, but she can’t shake the feeling of being caught by a crewmate.
“Rafe, as nice as that sounds, what if we get caught.”
“Don’t worry, Angel. We are the only ones on the boat. I got the crew to take a boat out to the land for the night. They’ll be back in the morning to take us to our next city. If you really don’t want to do it, then that’s okay but I just thought it would be fun.” 
“I’m a little scared for our safety that no one can take drive the yacht, but I think it would be really fun too. I hope you have a captain’s hat because you are about to take my boat card.”
———
Y/N’s fingers graze the bottom of her dress, taking confident steps up the stairs. “Captain, how much longer until we reach port?” she calls out as innocently as she can. Rafe looks over his shoulder at her with a captain’s hat on his head, “A few more hours, Ms. Y/L/N. Is there something I can help you with?” Her arms swing from in front of her to behind and she walks towards him. “That’s so long… I don’t know how I’m going to fix my problem,” she laments, bringing her hand to play with her hair. 
“Well, what’s your problem? Maybe I can help.”
“I don’t know… Captain. It’s kinda an intimate issue.”
“Come on, Angel. You can trust me. I’m the ship’s Captain.” 
Her hands move up his chest, meeting around his neck. She grows impatient with this game and starts to unbutton his white shirt. “You’re restless tonight, Angel,” Rafe chuckles, bringing his hand to rest on her bum. She nods, “Very, something about that hat is doing something to me.” “Wow. Never thought my angel would be turned on by a man in uniform,” he teases. His hand moves up her bum to untie the bow of her dress while she begins peppering his bare chest with kisses. His fingers lace through her hair, pulling her back from his skin. They look at each other with a grin. “I can’t keep playing this game anymore, Captain. I just need to feel you,” she mutters. He brings his lips to hers and pulls her dress off of her body, “Me either.” Once the cool ocean breeze meets her skin, Rafe walks her backwards toward the couch. The back of her knee meets the cool leather and she lies down with him on top of her. 
He kisses her on the lips, moving his hand down the valley of her breast to the top of her underwear. He grins to himself when he sees the moon glint off of his Greek letters that have been resting between her boobs since their sophomore year. A finger delicately lifts the fabric and continues its descent until it meets the wetness of her pussy. “Is this all for Captain Rafe, Angel?” She nods her head, itching for him to keep going. “Nuh-uh. Angel, you know I like it when you use words,” he tsks and removes his hand from where she needs it. 
“Captain, please. Touch me,” she begs, grabbing his wrist to bring his touch back. He growls at her words, “Enough of this Captain shit. I want you to be screaming my name to the sea, Angel.” He takes the bill of his hand in his hand and throws it somewhere on the deck without another thought. It’s one of the reasons she doesn’t have a nickname for him. It wasn’t for lack of trying when they first started to date. Rafe is so possessive of her that the thought of her calling him anything other than his name drives him to become the green-eyed monster. He pulls down her underwear and throws it with his hat, getting to work on making her feel good. His head buries between her legs, lapping up the mess he created. “Oh god, Rafe. This feels so good,” she moans at her normal level. Rafe always encouraged her to be as loud as possible, teaching her to not care about the other frat brothers, who might hear her sweet melody.
“Angel, you can be louder. There is no one around,” he reasons. She listens to his words and screams as loud as she can to please him. His mouth works on her clit as his fingers enter her hole. They curl to hit her G-spot and she tugs at his hair to get him to keep going. He quickly moves his fingers in and out of her. With every move of his finger, it brings her closer to her orgasm. Her fingers pull at the root of his hair and that’s how he knows she is about to cum. He pulls his fingers out of her, causing a whine to leave her lips. “Nope. Sorry, Angel. You are coming around my dick tonight,” he informs.
He stands up to pull off his shirt and his hand removes his belt in one fluid motion, which always makes Y/N’s thighs clench together. She sits up to help him take off the rest of his clothes and he lets her. She sinks to her knees in front of him, butt hitting the couch cushion. Her hands begin to pump his length. Saliva pools in her mouth, so she can spit it onto his dick. She slides her hand up and down his dick, listening to his groans. “You are doing so good, Angel,” he praises. His hand finds the back of her head and pushes her onto him. She takes him into her mouth, letting him hit the back of her throat. A hand remains at the base to pump what isn’t going in her mouth. She pulls herself off of him, so she can circle her tongue around his tip. She can taste his pre-cum. He decides he is hard enough for her and brings her back up so she is facing him. He lies her down on the couch again, kissing her lips. The mixture of their juices makes both of them want to moan. 
She watches as he brings a hand down to his cock to bring the tip to her vagina. He enters her inch by inch to let her have time to adjust. He has no more to offer her and waits for her to tell him to begin his thrust. “Please start, Rafe,” she states, bringing her forehead to his. His hips move back so just the tip is still inside of her and then eases them back down to meet the top of her pelvic bone. They normally like their sex fast and hard, but the moment felt right for something slower. He repeats the motion, enjoying the way her arms round his back to mark it up.
She may be his angel, but she has nails like the devil. He can feel the dig of her nails as she drags it down his back in an attempt to bring him closer. Being chest-to-chest with him doesn’t feel like enough to her, so she rounds her legs around his waist and helps meet his thrusts. It feels like the sounds of the skin slapping against each other and their groans echo out to the sea, yet she knows it is all in her head. She brings his hips in faster during his next thrust with her feet. He gets the message and deepens his thrust, feeling the way she begins to cling to him as she does. With her walls squeezing him, he knows he isn’t going to last long. Determined to make her climax first, he brings his hand down to her bud and starts to rub it in a circle. Y/N’s orgasm washes over her with his help. The feeling of her cumming around him causes him to twitch his seeds into her. He continues his gentle thrusts to ride out their high, stilling once they are both done. 
He slips out of her and lies beside her. She turns to face him, bringing his arms over her. He tightens his hold on her and gives her a kiss to the temple. “I don’t think roleplay is for us,” he observes, thinking back to how they didn’t last very long in the charade. She giggles with a nod of her head, “Yeah. I’m too impatient and you are too possessive to let me call you anything else other than your name. But I’m glad you convinced me to do this. I enjoyed giving each other our boat cards.” 
“I hate to have to tell you this, Angel. But I don’t have my boat card.” 
“Wait, if I’m not taking your boat card, does that mean you’ve done this before?”
“I’m from the Outer Banks, Angel. What do you think?
Taglist: @loves0phelia
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zreamy · 10 months
Text
spf 23
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pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader
summary: for as long as you can remember, your summers have been much the same, largely spent in your hometown, relaxing by the local pool. when you get back home this summer, things seem like they'll go the same way, until you get to the pool that is — when did the lifeguard get so hot?
genres: smut, fluff, people that kinda know each other to lovers, summer au, lifeguard au..
warnings: minors dni, MENTIONS OF UNIVERSITY DURING SUMMER, sunghoon in water, sunghoon on ice, sunghoon
word count: 31,818 .. even more sorry than last time.
playlist: kiss nct dojaejung, obvious ariana grande, safety net ariana grande
author's note: lmk ur thoughts (positive / negative / sunghoon) i'd love to hear. to beta bestie @asahicore u da best MUSIC DJ EMMAAA. i hope u have a good time reading, lord knows this has been a long time coming.. ok enjoy &lt;;333
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It’s the hottest day of the last summer of your life. 
The sun’s rays coat your skin in a film of sticky sweat and sunscreen. Crisp white clouds hang in the sky, drifting overhead. Yunjin complains about the temperature as if you and Chaewon aren’t outside with her.
If you strain your ears over yelling children and raucous laughter, you can just about hear a Top 40 playlist looping Cupid and Dua Lipa songs through age-weakened speakers. What holds your attention the most, though, is the blond by the pool. He leans back on his hands with pretty fingers spread out behind him. He’s been lifeguarding at the public pool for more summers than you care to count but he’d never looked like this while he did it. 
Park Sunghoon seems relaxed as he sits on the pool’s edge, kicking his legs in the water and scanning the space. Presumably watching out for kids drowning, or diving, or.. whatever it is lifeguards get up to at work. His voice is deep as he (half-heartedly) yells at a group of kids with water guns to stop running. When did he get so buff?
He’s always been attractive. Always. But this is outrageous. The bleached hair. The toned arms. The sliver of skin you can see peeking out from under his cropped vest. It’s almost too much to take yet you can’t bring yourself to look away. Given the way he turns his head when you catch his gaze — with flushed cheeks and upturned lips — you assume his glow-up has been purely external. 
“Can you believe this might be the last summer we spend here together? Like, this time next year we’ll be graduates.” Yunjin’s sudden statement makes you wish she’d go back to talking about the weather. 
Chaewon’s jaw drops. “Whoa.”
“Is it bad that I’m looking forward to fall?” Yunjin asks. “No offence, YN.” 
This isn’t the first time she’s shared such a sentiment. Last summer and the one before, she’d said something similar before clarifying. She’s excited about her new classes, not about you going back to your apartment a few towns over.
You’re only looking forward to your shared two-bed and Minjeong’s dinners. It pains you to have to thank university for anything, but thank university for giving you something to miss over the holidays. 
“None taken, YJ, but break just started last week.” 
“Our last finals were five weeks ago.”
“Well, you know break doesn’t really start until our girl gets back.” Chaewon leans up in her seat to grin at you. She raises her cup, the tiny puddle of melted slushy shaking a little. “Here’s to the best summer ever!” 
Needing all the affirmation you can get, you entertain her, raising your own cup so the three of you can toast properly. 
“Cheers!”
The next few hours do nothing to affirm your belief in the effectiveness of toasting. Recently hot Sunghoon hasn’t taken his shirt off yet and you’re not sure how many more times you can beg your friends to stay for another half hour in hopes something will happen that causes him to tear the thing off. At this point you’d settle for a simple conversation or even the word hey.
“I’m begging, like, actually, let’s go.” Yunjin groans, sitting up.
“Just let me pee first,” you grumble, attempting to buy more time as you stand up from your lounge chair, packing up your towel and the magazine you never bothered to look at. 
On your walk to the restroom, you see him leaning in the doorframe of the changing rooms with his toned arms crossed over his chest. Perfect. There’s a smile on your face as you approach him and unexpectedly he speaks before you do. 
"He—" He clears his throat, thick brows coming together as he places a big hand on his chest. "Hey."
You let out a breathy laugh. “You okay?” 
He straightens up his posture and nods his head, blond hair shifting over his forehead from the movement. 
The sounds of the public pool fill the silence stretching over you, though it’s not enough to distract you from the way his eyes trail over your body, landing on your chest as his tongue darts out to wet his lips. 
“I’m Sunghoon,” he eventually introduces, extending a hand for you to shake. 
A smile stretches across your lips when you do, noticing how much bigger his hand is than yours when his fingers wrap around it and cover the whole thing. “I know,” you nod.
“You,” Sunghoon pauses, tilting his head to the side as if considering your words. “Know?” His brows quirk up. 
You hum in response. “We had Spanish together. You sat with.. that kid,” Your hands come up to gesture around your chin and neck. “With the jaw, Jay, was it?” 
He looks at something over your shoulder for a bit while you worry that he didn’t take Spanish and you’ve got the wrong guy, but a laugh rises out of him instead. “Yeah,” he grins. “Jay.” Nods his head.
Despite stuttering his way through the conversation, Sunghoon makes you laugh as he tells you about how he didn’t realise he’d have to swim on the job and almost drowned trying to save a kid in the deep end. He seems more confident after seeing that his story was well received though he still fidgets with his hands, and can’t hold eye contact for more than a second at a time, always looking away and clearing his throat. 
The story was a bit of a ramble, and it might be the most words you’ve ever heard him say all at once before falling quiet, though his pretty lips open and close a few times as if he’s stuck on what to say. “How-” He’s cut off by the sound of someone yelling his name. 
In the pool, a cute (and very tall) kid waving his arms above his head yelling: Quickly! Quickly! makes you laugh, and the way Sunghoon rolls his eyes makes it clear he knows him.
Much to your dismay, the yelling doesn’t stop and you realise you’ll have to make your exit. “I’ll let you get going, but, uh, say hi to Jay for me, okay?” you say, grinning at the way he nods his head, mumbling yeah, of course before you turn around to leave.
Sunghoon’s still standing in the spot you left him in, hands crossed over his chest as he eyes you. Head snapping in the other direction when you look back over your shoulder to call out a: Later, Hoonie, with a wave of your fingers.
Chaewon watches you over her sunglasses with a smirk on her face as you approach. “Who is that?”
You crinkle your nose. “Park Sunghoon.”
At the sound of his name, Yunjin gasps, abruptly sitting up in her chair. “The figure skater?”
“The what?”
At home, you type his name into the search bar and find that the shy boy you’d only met properly some hours ago is something of a celebrity in the skating world. 
You watch YouTube videos of his short programs and feel a swell of pride with each jump he lands. The tiny Sunghoon on the screen carries an air of confidence as he glides across the ice — nothing like the Sunghoon you’d met at the pool today. And definitely nothing like the quiet Sunghoon who’d sit in the back of your 9th grade Spanish class conjugating verbs as his friends got into trouble for talking over the teacher. 
It’s not hard to trip down a rabbit hole, and suddenly every video with his name in the title has a little red bar under the thumbnail as a mark of your affection. It doesn’t take long for you to find Instagram user smartblond, and the blue follow button on his page greets you with the option to follow back, which leaves you feeling a little bad as the pad of your thumb falls onto it unthinkingly. 
Sunghoon’s feed leaves much to be desired. A modest 1 post he’d made 4 years prior, a square photo of himself and Lee Heeseung with bros as the caption. The only comment is from Heeseung who wrote ma boiiii. The tagged photos however tell a different story. 
Thankfully.  
You spend longer than you’d like to admit scrolling through these pictures, grinning and ignoring the way your stomach flips at the sight of the seemingly outgoing boy captured in the pictures posted by his closest friends with wide smiles and middle fingers while trying not to hit like on any of them. Even though you do like them. A lot. Except for the one of him and Bae Sumin at the pool with pretty smiles on their faces, and their arms around each other that she posted 15 weeks ago with the caption lifesaver. A smile spreads on your lips when you see Sumin’s (way more populated) page and the post she made yesterday to celebrate two years with her boyfriend. 
Distraction only reaches you in the form of an alert from your university’s portal app. The words you’ve got new correspondence in your inbox wipe the smile from your face in an instant. While chewing at your lip, you click on the notification and wait for the email to load. 
A pit forms in your stomach while reading four paragraphs offering advice for people who’ve failed their final exams. At the end is a link that you click with squinted eyes. A countdown appears and there are 8 days, 12 hours, 2 minutes and 17 seconds until results are out.
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During your next trip to the pool, you hear Sunghoon before you see him and his voice comes out in a cute whine when he speaks. “Why do you guys only wanna hang out here when I'm working?” 
Looking over your sunglasses, you see him running a hand through his hair, looking up from the water at a group of boys you recognise from both high school and his tagged photos, including the very tall kid who’d cut your conversation short the other day. With a wide grin on his face, he slings a towel over his shoulder and calls out something about the concession stand before running for the changing rooms and ignoring Sunghoon’s cries to stop. 
His back flexes deliciously as he wades around the mostly empty pool, chatting to his friends, and in all of your staring you notice Jay’s eyes on you, looking back to Sunghoon after a while and nodding his head not so subtly in your direction.
You look at Yunjin in the lounge chair next to you, who stares at the remnants of your blue raspberry slushy with disgust on her face, finishing off her cherry-flavoured one. “I said thanks when you came back with them, it’s abnormal to want this much recognition over a £1 purchase,” you say defensively, sighing and thanking her again anyways. 
“You should thank Sunghoon’s giant friend,” she says, nodding in his direction. “He came over to me in the line, asked how I knew you, and gave me change when I told him Chaewon introduced us.” 
“Huh,” you say, taking a refreshing sip, the last, before putting your cup down between your chairs. 
“I don’t understand what you see in that insane flavour.” She leans over to put her now empty cup next to yours. “It’s.. unnatural,” she says, shuddering dramatically. 
“It’s the only flavour I like,” you say simply, watching in your peripheral as your new favourite lifeguard (not that you have an old favourite) climbs over the edge of the pool.
The sight of Sunghoon’s lean figure coming out of the pool only makes you regret ever wanting to see him with his shirt off. Water slips from every part of his body in droplets, running from his broad shoulders down his veiny forearms before falling from his pretty fingers onto the ground. This must be the fittest-looking person you’ve ever seen, and Kazuha can do push-ups (one) with you and Chaewon on her back. 
With his wet hair stuck to his forehead, he laughs at something one of his friends said and it’s only when he looks over at you that you’re able to tear your eyes away. 
You miss the sight as soon as it’s gone. 
“That’s absurd,” Yunjin says after a moment. You have no idea what she’s talking about. “Can I open the Skittles?”
You’d forgotten about those. “Go ahead.” 
While rummaging through your bag, Yunjin tells you quietly that Sunghoon’s coming though you barely have a chance to look at him before his shadow casts over the two of you, stark and vivid. With his arms crossed over his chest, Sunghoon towers over you. His red shorts cling onto his hips, so low you can see every inch of muscle definition spanning his stomach where little beads of water stare you dead in the eye. By the time you manage to look up at his face, he has a huge grin stretched over his pretty lips. “Hey, stalker,” he says.
Though his smile falters when you crease your brows, pulling your sunglasses down your nose. “Stalker?” 
“You, uh,” he pauses to sniff, less sure of himself than earlier. “I saw that you followed me on Instagram last night.” 
“You did? And no DM?” 
No DM, he repeats under his breath, visibly confused, and the—“Ohhhh, you wanted to talk to me?” 
“Yeah, that’s why I followed you.”
“Right.” A nod. “And no DM?” Sunghoon seems to like the way you laugh, uncrossing his arms, and puffing his chest out. “So what did you wanna talk about that just couldn’t wait until you saw me again?” 
“I wanted to catch up.”
A sceptical look crosses his face. “Really? Anything specific you wanted to talk about?” 
“Not really. I just think you’re interesting.”
“Me? Interesting?” The mixture of amusement and surprise on his face makes you laugh. 
“Yes, you, interesting.” A saccharine smile spreads across your lips as you swing your legs over the side of your chair. Sunghoon apologises when your ankle grazes his calf. “Very interesting.” 
Sitting like this, your face is so close to his hips you can see the loose thread at the top of his shorts. He seems to notice, taking a step back. Down the bridge of his nose, he watches you through squinted eyes, furrowing his brow and letting a beat pass. “How so?” 
“There’s a lot of reasons, but, for one, you’re the only figure skater I know.”
So quickly you barely see it, Sunghoon’s lips curl into a frown before he presses them together, nodding. “How’s summer treating you?” He changes the subject. 
You let him. “Pretty good,” you say, bringing a hand up to the tied strap of your swimsuit to pull it to the side. “And I’m tanning pretty well, right, Sunghoon?” 
A massive cloud glides across the sky, casting a welcome shadow over the scorching sun. The transition is gradual but relief is immediate and even Sunghoon sighs. You push your sunglasses up to rest in your hair, taken aback, like always, by how bright it actually is outside. Even with the sun covered up, your eyes sting a little without the tint making you squint up at Sunghoon who watches you with an amused smile. 
“Is there something on my face?” you ask. 
“No, nothing like that.” He shakes his head. “It’s just.. nice catching up with you.”
“Yeah. It is.” You return his smile, liking the way his widens. “So, how’s summer trea—” You’re cut off by the same kid as yesterday, yelling “Sunghoooooooooon!” At the top of his lungs. 
“What were you saying?” 
“Uh,” you start, distracted by the kid pointing at Sunghoon, who waves frantically when he realises he’s caught your eye. “You, uh,” you pause, using a finger to point over to the pool. “I think your friend might need you.” 
He turns to look over his shoulder, the sun shining directly on the side of his face when he does, highlighting the pretty mole on his nose that you’ve somehow never noticed. Sunghoon shakes his head and freezing water splashes onto your stomach, making you flinch. A non-committal sound comes out of his mouth as he shrugs, facing you once again. “It’s just Riki.”
Just Riki doesn’t let up. Instead, he enlists the help of a cute cat-eyed boy, clambering onto his shoulders and balancing precariously as he yells and yells at the top of his lungs. 
“Okay, yeah, I gotta,” Sunghoon sighs, using his thumb to motion towards the pool as he walks backwards away from you. He points a long index finger at you before turning around. “I’m coming back,” he says. 
With a huge splash, Riki falls from his friend’s shoulders unceremoniously, his form disappearing for a moment, replaced by a mess of bubbles and long frantic limbs until he resurfaces. 
“I’m not here to play, I’m here to work!” Sunghoon calls out, walking right off the coping and into the water, swimming towards his friends anyway. 
He doesn’t come back. 
That night you stay at Chaewon’s, rifling through old teen magazines and taking quizzes to determine who your ‘celeb bezzie’ is. Answering mostly C’s, the two of you squeal at the prospect of a friendship with Lindsay Lohan. 
Jaehyun’s complaining when you reach the pool and you figure Yunjin and Kazuha must be nearby. Your hunch is correct when you round the corner by the water slide and see the two of them splashing each other in the small pool. He’s standing with his hands on his hips and yelling something about the literal sign that says they can’t be in there right now. The sign is a bright red fold-out thing, saying in bold white letters that the pool is closed for swimming lessons starting at 1:30 p.m. 
“It’s 1:20, you can’t be in here,” Jaehyun groans, raking a hand through his hair. “I know you guys think because we’re friends you can do what you want but the other lifeguards kicked me from the group chat and Sunghoon said it’s all your fault.” 
The mention of Sunghoon makes your ears perk up, and you decide to insert yourself. “What did they do wrong?” 
Jaehyun practically jumps at the sound of your voice next to him and Yunjin calls out for you to get in! “Don’t you dare,” Jaehyun mutters, cutting his eyes. “Whatever it is was bad enough for Mark, Yeri, and Chaeyoung to decide I’m not worthy of LIFESAVERS 2.0 swimming guy emoji, ring float emoji.” 
“If you got kicked because of them, I don’t see why Sunghoon gets to stay.” You tilt your head, stepping back a little when you feel a splash hitting your feet. “His one million-man friend group takes up half of the big pool every day, competing for who can laugh the loudest, and these two are pretty much doing the same thing.” 
“Yes, but Sunghoon’s friends aren’t breaking the rules.” 
“I saw Riki take an ice cream cone from a kid yesterday.”
“That’s not against the rules,” Jaehyun sighs. “And Chaeyoung thinks Sunghoon’s cute, so.” 
“She does?” you ask too quickly. 
“What do you care?” Jaehyun spares you a glance, arching his brow. He seems to undergo some kind of revelation, gasping a little and nodding his head. “So that’s why you guys are here all the time! You totally like that loser.” 
“Sunghoon’s not a loser, he’s hot.”
“Interesting thing to dispute.” 
You roll your eyes. “Do I need to worry about Chaeyoung?” you ask quietly.
“If you’re trying to hook up with Sunghoon I wouldn’t worry about her.”
You hate his response; hate that instead of really answering you, he’s just left you with even more questions. 
And you hate Chaeyoung for falling into your line of sight just as you mention her. 
She leaves the locker room, laughing about something with Yeri, and making you wonder what exactly she wants with Sunghoon. And why she suddenly feels like your competitor.
“And if I’m not?” 
Jaehyun cackles at your suggestion. “You? Not trying to hook up?” 
You can’t come up with a reason for why his words make your chest ache so you shove him with your elbow before jumping into the water with the girls. The sound of Jaehyun groaning and begging you guys to get out of the pool only dissolves the ache and puts a smile on your face.
Yunjin and Kazuha gang up on you for taking so long to join them but the water feels so cool against your skin you can’t help but enjoy it. 
The sound of what you think is Sunghoon’s voice makes you freeze in your spot. “I can’t keep defending you, man,” he sighs. 
At the sound of a whistle blowing, you raise your hands to cover your ears and all three of you whip your heads in its direction. Sunghoon stands next to Jaehyun with a whistle in his mouth, coughing around the metal when he sees you. He smiles, dropping it to rest against his chest. “Oh, hey.” 
“Hi,” you greet, swimming over to the edge of the pool and resting your arms on it, letting your chin find a home against them. Looking up, you see Jaehyun rolling his eyes before walking off in the opposite direction and Sunghoon stares down at you with a smile on his face.
“How are you?” he asks, fidgeting with the whistle like a charm on a necklace. 
“I’m good, how are you?” 
“Good, me too. Uh-your friends,” he pauses, clearing his throat. “I’m teaching lessons here, in five minutes, so I was wondering if you guys could maybe hang out in the main pool or by the slides instead?” he asks. It seems like he’s asking. “Only if you want.” 
“What if we’re here for lessons?” 
“Oh, I’m sorry, you guys must be the six-year-olds I’m teaching this afternoon, my bad for assuming.” 
You can’t tell if he was trying to be funny or if that was just something he said for the sake of saying it, but it makes you smile anyway. “You don’t do lessons for grown-ups?”
Sunghoon shakes his head. “I teach 6 to 12-year-olds, but Mark teaches adult classes on Saturday mornings if you’re interested.”
You nod, lifting yourself out of the pool, dripping water on the concrete. You’re close enough to Sunghoon to clearly see his jaw tensing, and the way his gaze shamelessly falls to your chest for more than a few seconds. 
“What if I’m interested in a one-on-one lesson?” 
Close enough to see the goosebumps that rise on his skin. He licks his lips, holding your gaze. “I guess we could work something out,” he says, clearing his throat when you rest a hand on his wrist, though he doesn’t look away from you. 
It seems like it’s just the two of you and the sun beating against your skin. And his pulse racing against your fingers. 
An excited wail grounds you, brings you back to the pool. “Sunghoonie! Sunghoonie!” You hear over his shoulder, as a tiny girl with pigtails and a huge grin comes rushing over to you. “Look, I got new goggles, look at my new goggles!” 
You take a step back and Sunghoon gasps, holding her Hello Kitty goggles in his hands, inspecting them carefully while crouching down to her level. In his absence, you see more, equally excited, kids plodding along, babbling to each other, followed by parents with small character backpacks slung over their shoulders. 
Sunghoon chats animatedly with her, nodding and gasping and saying really? at all the right times, in a way that summons butterflies. She giggles and holds her belly laughing when he holds her baby sized goggles over his head, asking if he can try them on, and you need to leave before you burst into tears at how sweet he’s being.
Yunjin and Kazuha beam at you when you look over at them, winking dramatically and giving you silent rounds of applause. Your cheeks burn at the sight, mumbling at them to come on, before turning around to walk away. 
“Hey, YN!” Sunghoon calls out, stopping you in your tracks. He’s standing with his arms crossed over his chest, and a small smile on his lips. “See you later, yeah?” 
“Yeah.” You nod. 
The girls have caught up to you by now, Yunjin’s eyebrows waggling suggestively as she links her fingers with yours. “Oh, he is so into you,” Kazuha whispers, wrapping a dripping arm around your shoulders. “Chaewon was right, summer really doesn’t start until you get back.”
In the main pool, you play around with the girls until you’re tired from swimming and the heat, and if it wasn’t for what Sunghoon said, you would have gone home already. You lay back in a lounge chair and close your eyes behind your sunglasses. You could probably fall asleep out here, feeling an odd comfort in the blood-curdling screams and mix of music playing from tiny bluetooth speakers all over the place. 
About five minutes later, you use your fingers to pick out a few pieces of Oreo from Yunjin’s ice cream, deciding they’ll be compensation for having to deal with the sticky dessert trickling down the cone and onto your fingers. Though in this heat, it doesn’t bother you so much.
On your trip back to your seat, you see Heeseung and Sunghoon by the locker room entrance. Standing in the shade, the two of them talk while Sunghoon lets a chunky pair of sunglasses rest on the back of his head, a sight that makes you clench your fist so hard the cone crunches under your fingers. You watch Heeseung’s face split into a grin while he throws his head back laughing, though Sunghoon presses his lips together in a straight line, clearly unimpressed. 
Yunjin jogs over to you, thanking you for the cone and complaining about how stingy Jungwoo’s being with the Oreo pieces these days but taking an appreciative lick anyway, letting her head fall back and a long hum of satisfaction buzz against her lips. “Just go over there and talk to him,” she says after a while. 
“Wow, YJ, thank you. I hadn’t thought of that.” 
She flips you off before walking away.
You don’t mean to catch his eye but he smiles when he sees you, waving when you wave. Heeseung waves too. If Sunghoon had been standing on his own you’d have no problem approaching him, but something about interrupting their conversation puts you off. Heeseung nods at you and calls out your name, inviting you to interrupt them. 
“It’s funny, we were just talking about you,” Heeseung says. You’re not sure how he wants you to respond to that, but Sunghoon looks at him with wide eyes, using his elbow to nudge his oversharing friend. “All good things, of course,” he adds on, raking a hand through his hair. 
“Who could have anything bad to say about you?” Sunghoon asks. 
Out of genuine concern, you ask if they’re okay, which only makes the two of them burst out laughing. Awkward laughter in the form of robotic ha ha has and forced applause. You’re not sure what to make of this, looking back and forth between them with a crease along your brow. High school was probably the last time you talked to Lee Heeseung, but besides the piercings and muscle definition he doesn’t seem to have changed much. 
“How have you been? How’s college?” Heeseung asks after wiping his left eye with the back of his hand. 
“I’ve been good. I saw you graduated last week, congrats!” 
He looks delighted at the mention of his own studies, missing the fact that you’re trying to avoid talking about yours. “Thank you!” he says, beaming. “Do you know what classes you’re taking this year?”
“No.” You shake your head. “You studied music, right?” 
An impossibly brighter grin spreads across his lips, eyes shining with genuine happiness as he nods. “Yeah, I majored in production actually. Best thing I ever did.”
For a while, Heeseung talks about his course though most of it goes over your head as jealousy burns in your stomach. The last three years have gone well enough for you to know that you’re more than just good at your major, so why, like him, can’t you enjoy it too? Right now, you want nothing more than for stupid Heeseung to shut up about his stupid career choices. 
Sunghoon interrupts the conversation, seeming to notice your mild irritation. “Hey, are you okay?” he asks, resting a hand on your shoulder.
He doesn’t seem convinced when you nod your head belatedly, clearing your throat. You do your best to focus on the burn of his hand on your skin and not your jealousy. 
Sunghoon looks over at Heeseung, giving him a look that the older boy takes as an invitation to leave, smiling at the both of you before waving goodbye. 
“What’s the matter?” His voice is much softer now that you’re alone, so comforting that you’re tempted to fall into his chest and tell him everything that’s ever upset you.
“What makes you think something’s the matter?”
“You were staring at Heeseung like you wanted to wipe the stupid smile off his face with a bullet.”  
“Actually, I think he has quite a nice smile,” you admit.
“Yeah,” Sunghoon agrees. “But it’s a little annoying, right? Like how everything just seems to go so well for him no matter what. Perfect guy with a perfect major, it’s a little hard not to be jealous of him when he talks like that.” 
“You don’t like what you study?” 
“It’s not my major I’m struggling with.” He lets out a dry laugh. “What about you?” 
A deep sigh rolls out of you, pulling your shoulders down. “I’m good at it so why stop, you know?” 
“Plenty of people stop things they’re good at.” The response comes quicker than you expect, in a defensive tone that makes you want to slice open his brain and take a look inside. “Sorry, I just mean if something isn’t making you happy, then it’s okay to stop. Right?” 
It doesn’t feel like he’s talking about you. “Right,” you affirm anyway. “It’s just that I only have a year left so the way I see it, I should just deal with it, graduate, and worry next summer instead. Uni sorta freaks me out is all,” you explain, shrugging in a way that you hope looks nonchalant. “I don’t like my course, and I don’t like talking about it, so let’s not talk about it.”
Sunghoon nods. “No talking about uni, got it,” he says, holding an imaginary pen and making a note of your words in the palm of his hand, with a tiny smile on his face that makes your stomach twist. “So, what do you like talking about?”
“Literally anything else.” 
“Look at us, so much in common.” There’s a hesitant look on his face, like he’s questioning his word choice but he smiles when you do, letting out a breathy laugh at the sound of a chuckle slipping out of you. 
“Hey, Sunghoon?” you ask after a beat, tilting your head and continuing when he hums. “Do you work here every day?” 
He shakes his head. “Just Monday through Thursday.”
“So, if I wanna see you, I could just come to the pool on those days?” 
“Yeah.” Even in the shade, it’s hard to miss the way his cheeks flush pink, and he scratches at the back of his neck while stifling a smile. “Exactly.” 
“And if it’s Friday or the weekend, and I wanna see you, I could just text you?” 
“Yeah, I think I’d like that.” That same smile curves on his lips, gentle, happy. 
You think you’d like that too. 
Sunghoon puts his number in your phone and you send a text so he has yours too.
The sun doesn’t set until late that night, and you spend the better part of the evening in the garden with your mum, catching the last moments of the sun’s rays from a blanket in the grass. The sound of her fingers against the keyboard is like a perfect mechanical OST for the summer romance you’re halfway through. Though knowing that the countdown in your email is set to strike zero in a matter of hours makes it difficult to concentrate on what’s going on in the made up beach town you’re reading about.
After a late dinner, you click the link to watch the countdown hit zero before refreshing the page. The stark white background of the login page stings your eyes in your dark room as you wait for the results page to load with a held breath. All three of your course titles are marked with MP for merit pass. A weight falls from your shoulders only to be replaced with another. 
The family group chat doesn’t seem to share your distress. Your dad hearts the message and sends a gif of Michael Scott clapping, your mum texts back that she’s so proud of her baby, and your older brother says KNEW U COULD DO IT! You throw your phone across the room, hiding your face in your pillow to muffle a scream. 
That night, you dream of graduation. Of crossing the stage and seeing the culmination of four long years on a flimsy piece of paper. The ceremony ends and behind closed eyes, you watch yourself sign your life away to a 9-to-5 in a field you hate, the same your brother had done. Drenched in a cold sweat, the nightmare jolts you awake. 
You spend all day in your room for fear of running into your mother and having to discuss your future.
The day after that, the familiar smell of coffee hits your nose as you walk by a cafe you used to frequent in high school, drowning yourself in hot chocolate in the winter and in sweet frozen lemonades in the summertime. If it wasn’t for your plans of seeing Chaewon you might’ve picked something up for nostalgia’s sake. 
Right when you think about her, she calls you. “Bring me a coffee,” Chaewon says. 
“What?” 
“Can you get me some coffee?” 
Looking over your shoulder, you fully expect to see Chaewon standing behind you or perched in one of the bushes across the street with a pair of binoculars. Her voice rings down the phone at you, at a volume you’re sure you would be able to hear if she was watching you from somewhere. “Hello?” 
“Yes, I’ll do it,” you say, ignoring the chill that runs down your spine and hanging up.
A bell rings above your head when you open the door, the cafe greeting you warmly like it always has. You admire its familiar green walls and the organic curves of its interior, from the sweeping archways to the round tables and chairs. Back then, you must have sat in each of them. 
You think you’re going crazy when you hear Sunghoon saying thanks, and you know you’re going crazy when you actually see him leaving the counter with his fingers wrapped around a vibrant orange iced drink. He doesn’t see you, focusing on the phone in his hand and the straw in his mouth, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat with each sip. Sunghoon turns his back to you, walking towards a table in the far corner, his head moving to the beat of whatever song he’s listening to. He sits in the seat facing away from you, and you stare for so long that the barista has to say excuse me to get your attention. 
After apologising, you order Chaewon’s latte, giving her name over to the barista when she asks and waiting off to the side while she makes it. The whole time, you watch Sunghoon, willing him to look over at you. It doesn’t work.
Not in the way you’d been expecting, at least. Your phone vibrates against your palm.
sh: hey yn! are you doing anything nice today?
You grin at the back of his head. 
yn: seeing chaewon later :) hbu
sh: oh cool i hope you guys have fun!
sh: working later.. closing shift :/ 
When it’s ready, you collect Chaewon’s drink and approach Sunghoon’s table. He’s staring at his phone screen, where you see your conversation over his shoulder — even though it’s been five minutes since he texted you — and have to bite back a smile.
“Hey, you.” The words come out like you intended, light, pleased. 
Sunghoon jumps in his seat anyway, slamming his phone face down on the table and looking up at you. “YN,” he breathes. “Hey.” He wipes his palms on his pants. “What are you doing here?” 
“Same as you, I guess,” you grin, raising the cup in your hand. “Can I sit?” 
“Of course.” A beat passes while you take your seat and Sunghoon’s eyes don’t leave you once. 
It’s been a while since you last had a vanilla latte but it’s just as sweet as you remember when you try it, the ice doing a good job at keeping you cool. You tilt your head at the boy in front of you, checking the date on your phone. “It’s Friday today.” 
“Yeah…” Sunghoon squints at you, nodding his head slowly. “Oh, it’s Friday,” he says, seeming to figure out what you were getting at despite the lack of context. “There’s a girl I normally coach on Mondays at the rink, Hyein, but she couldn’t make it this week so we moved her session to this afternoon. To be clear though, I don’t normally work on Fridays. At the rink or otherwise.”
You nod, taking another sip of Chaewon’s coffee and angling the cup so he can’t see her name written on the side of it. 
“So, if you wanted to see me, on a Friday, or over the weekend, you could still text me about that.” 
Smiling, you nod. “Good to know. Do you work Monday to Thursday at the rink as well?” you ask, curiosity getting the better of you.
Sunlight spills through the tiled windows, warming your skin through the glass. Over his shoulder, the bell by the door rings incessantly and under the sun’s rays, flecks of amber glow in his eyes that crinkle at the corners, a dimple peeking at you as he shakes his head.
“I have my own training at 6 on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays, and then I teach kids classes on Monday and Tuesday nights, and I see Hyein on Monday mornings.”
“6 a.m.?”
“No, our sessions start at 10.”
“I mean your training, you start at 6 in the morning?” 
“Oh.” He nods. “Yeah,” he says, shrugging. 
“Fuck, that’s so early, I could never.” 
“I mean, that was just my training block during school. 6 to 7:45, so I’d go to the rink, back home to shower, and go to school when I could.” A beat passes before he speaks again, using his straw to stir his drink. “But that was mainly during, like, off-season. If I had competitions coming up then I’d spend entire days at the rink, or dance class, in the gym, so I missed a lot of school.” 
You nod. “I remember.” 
Sunghoon’s eyes flash with something, as his brows knit together for barely a second. He smiles. “Anyway, I did try later sessions when I started college but I was so used to my early sessions that I’d still wake up at 5 a.m. even though my classes didn’t start until the afternoon.” 
There’s a sparkle in his eyes when you ask about Hyein, and excitement in his voice while he tells you all about her. About how much potential she has, even though she doesn’t seem to realise it; about how much better she’s gotten in the year since they met and how similar she is to him at her age.
After a very slow walk with Sunghoon, you reach Chaewon’s place. It doesn’t hit you that you’re empty-handed until she opens the door and frowns at you, asking where you’ve been and what happened to her coffee.
It starts to feel like you’re running out of friends to take to the pool when, a few days later, the entire girls chat is too busy to come along, and Lee Jeno from an engineering lecture you took two years ago sits in the chair next to you, lazily flipping through an old copy of Dazed Magazine. Even if only as a last resort, Jeno makes good company seeing as you like the funny Tiktoks he shows you and the way he sneaks vodka into your slushy behind your towel. 
For a while, you pretend not to care about Sunghoon’s absence in hopes he’ll spawn from the pool’s deep end. Surprisingly, he does not. And just like that, an ugly pattern is formed: you go to the pool, wait all day for Sunghoon, and eventually, stumble back home in a daze from alcohol or sunstroke. 
It takes four and a half more, uneventful, Sunghoonless visits to the pool to leave you trying not to tear your hair out at Chaewon’s dining table. 
Kazuha serves as a good distraction though, making you quiz her on the details of Kim Yeri’s driving licence so she can come out to the club with you guys. Between the two girls looking nothing alike and Kazuha thinking a March birthday makes her a Sagittarius, you’re not hopeful. 
When she goes to the toilet, you check your phone just to be sure Sunghoon hasn’t texted in the twelve minutes since you last checked. And like before, the only messages you find are from Yeonjun asking if you’re “tryna slide” later. You aren’t, and haven’t been for the last two weeks he’d been asking. Completely unrelated to a certain blond lifeguard, of course. You sigh, thinking of Sunghoon again and why he hasn’t texted yet.
There’s nothing stopping you from sending the first text (today) — except for the fact that you’d been texting back and forth until you accidentally aired him at the start of the week. Unless you’re trying to hook up, you never send the first message. And as much as you would like to hook up with Sunghoon, there’s something about him that’s too endearing to only experience in the quiet of a backseat at 3 a.m., or in your room when no one’s home.
Four shots and a lot of egging on seem to be all you need to make your way to Sunghoon’s DMs. You let Chaewon and Kazuha debate over what your opening message should be, and with shaky thumbs, you type out something simple. Much to your friend’s (and your own) disappointment, you eventually settle on hey handsome. 
sh: hiiiiiiiiiii
For a while, you watch as Sunghoon types and stops and types and stops before his message comes through. 
sh: pretty
You can’t help the giggle that comes out, clearing your throat when Chaewon raises a brow at you. The two of you hold eye contact for a beat before erupting into a fit of laughter. 
you: i haven’t seen you at the pool in a while and i was wondering if you’re ok..
sh: yn.. have you been at my workplac e waiitng for me to show up again ???
you: are you ok.
sh: i think it’s cute that you did that, my friends tol d me they saw you there every day this week
you: why are your friends reporting my whereabouts to you..
sh: i asked them to, also im good i just took some days off
sh: back monday am i gonna see u then?
you: or we could just see each other on one of your off days?
On the left side of the screen, you watch animated ellipses dance above the keyboard before halting, though no message comes to replace them and it doesn’t take you long to figure out that the message hasn’t come through because your phone is frozen. 
Right?
You let out a laugh at your stupidity while Chaewon looks at you like you’re insane, turning off your phone and letting it sit for a bit before turning it back on. Wasting no time, you go straight to Instagram and pull up the DM thread where the word seen sits underneath your last message, laughing at you. 
Perplexed by what seems like your first rejection ever, you’re not quite sure how to move on so you send a text to the group chat (mainly for Yunjin, the only one who isn’t present). Yunjin replies with a message suggesting Sunghoon’s phone died. In the chair opposite, Chaewon suggests maybe he died. Jaehyun brings you more shots to cope with your heartache and you clutch your stomach laughing when he squirts lime juice into his eye.
Because your friends don’t respect you, you end up in the middle seat when the Uber arrives; sandwiched between Chaewon and Kazuha, drinking as much vodka as you can stomach from the younger girl’s flask while she mutters March 5th, Taurus over and over again. 
All that hard work was done in vain, though; when you reach the club Kazuha insists on being the first to go up in line, and tears start streaming when the bouncer asks what part of Seoul she was born in. Yeri’s ID gets confiscated and the four of you pile into another Uber and head to your backup plan, which you only learn about when the car pulls up.
Living in another city for uni means you’ve never partied with Sunghoon’s friends before — beyond walking by each other in a club — and some combination of excitement and alcohol makes your stomach heat up as you think about seeing him again.
Nishimura Riki’s family home is a giant structure that takes up more room than what’s probably necessary. There’s a massive fountain in the middle of the driveway shooting a stream, out of the mouth of what you think is a lion, into its main bed of water. The grand front door has banners criss-crossed over it saying HAPPY BIRTHDAY KIM SUNOO! Before you reach it, the door swings open and Jay’s jaw is even sharper than you remember when you see him so close. He grins at you and your friends, whooping obnoxiously at the sight of Jaehyun, dapping him up before waving awkwardly at you, Chaewon and Kazuha. You watch him lean over to Jaehyun and ask if that chick’s okay, while not so subtly pointing at the youngest of you all. 
When you look at her, black streaks of mascara tear through her blush like a knife though she wears a bright smile as she eyes Jay like a predator. You nudge her in the ribs and make a mental note to find a bathroom to help her fix her makeup. She frowns when you take her hand and enter the house, leaving Chaewon with Jaehyun and Jay, the three of which chat easily with one another.
Upstairs in the main bathroom, you kneel on the floor between Kazuha’s legs, gently running a makeup wipe over her face while she sits on the lid of the toilet babbling about Jay. “He’s the one,” she says determinedly. “I mean, he was worried about me.. he barely knows me and he was asking if I was okay. Like, how did he know I’d been upset?” You wonder if Kazuha has seen her face in the last half hour. Or if she knows why you insisted on taking her makeup off. 
“Right,” you nod, knowing it’s easier to agree with a drunk Kazuha than face an argument.
“It’s a feeling. Like, sometimes you just have to look through the eyes of your soul, and everything will work out.”
It’s amazing to you that she can say the things she says without laughing. But there’s a finality in her tone that makes you hope she’s right. 
With Kazuha all cleaned up, you’re able to focus on how crammed the house actually is. There are people in every room of the house, sitting on the porch, in the backyard. People are everywhere and you’re not sure you’ll ever manage to reunite with your friends. In favour of getting to know Jay, Kazuha presses a kiss to your cheek and runs off in the opposite direction. You head for the kitchen knowing that Chaewon will most likely be in there somewhere, batting her lashes at a tall graduate in hopes to score a free smoke. 
People are grinding and hanging off one another in the hall and the living room, making out by the stairs, and in what looks like the only empty spot in the kitchen Sunghoon leans against the counter, taking generous gulps from something in a red cup. Judging by his smart trousers and pretty black cardigan, Sunghoon has also developed a personal style in the time since you’ve last been home. A dent forms in Sunghoon’s cheek when he sees you, a sweet crinkle in his eyes as he says hi! 
You can’t figure out whether you should hug him or not but he looks so sweet with his wide smile and flushed cheeks that your arms widen of their own accord. His embrace is gentle, wrapping you up in a mixture of toned arms, soft cotton, liquor, and something light, floral, you think. 
“Can I fix you something to drink?” Sunghoon asks quietly, you only just hear him before he lets you go. “I didn’t think you’d be here tonight,” he says, reaching over the counter to grab a cup for you. 
“Yeah, I didn’t either.” 
“I was your backup plan?” 
“Oh, come on.” You nudge his shoulder with your hand as he screws the cap back on a bottle of lemonade. “I wouldn’t use those words. If I’d known about the party you would’ve been the plan.” 
“I thought you wouldn’t use those words.”
“You’re using those words,” you say, grinning when he laughs. 
You both go back and forth on it for a while, as Sunghoon tries to find Malibu in the mess of bottles cluttering the countertop. A wide grin spreads across his face when he does and you watch him fill the empty space in your cup before handing it to you. 
The first sip is syrupy sweet on your tongue, forcing an appreciative hum out of you. “So good,” you say through a dreamy sigh, shaking your head before taking another gulp. 
From his nose, he lets out a breathy laugh, his lips quirking up at the corners as he watches you. “It’s good to know my bartending classes are paying off.” 
“Have you ever considered a recipe book?” you ask, putting the cup down next to your phone, looking up at Sunghoon who seems to seriously consider this for a while before nodding. 
Almost experimentally, he rests his hand on your hip. “I’m sorry about earlier,” he tells you, holding you a little closer when he sees that you’re okay with it. 
You tilt your head at him, pretending not to remember the way he’d left you on read. “What happened earlier?” 
“On.. iMessage,” he starts, trailing off at the end though he continues when you nod. “I’m not good at talking to pretty girls.”
Despite not fully believing him, there’s a sincerity in his voice that makes your stomach flutter. “Lucky for you, I’m very good at talking to pretty boys.” 
You can’t tell if he’s flustered or drunk, but his cheeks redden after you speak. 
“Pretty boys, me?” 
“Who else?” 
Sunghoon’s laugh comes out in ha ha ha’s, and if you couldn’t see the way his eyes crinkled up you might have thought he was faking it.
For a moment, his gaze flickers between your eyes and mouth, his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and he speaks. “I don’t want you thinking I’m not interested or anything.” His voice is low, almost too quiet for the cramped space where Me and Your Mama bounces off the walls and rowdy kids constantly bump into you. 
With his hand still burning through your dress, he nudges you, turning you both around to take your place. Your ass rests against the edge of the countertop and the drunk students bump into him instead. “I’m just.. still figuring out how to stop being so shy all the time,” he says, using his thumb to lift the fallen strap of your dress.
You’re having a tough time believing him. If this is what being so shy looks like for Sunghoon, you’re terrified to see him being confident. 
The heat of his lingering hand against your bare shoulder only leaves you drawing a blank. Part of you feels silly for saying that you’re very good at talking to pretty boys. You’re way out of your depth right now.
“But you,” he trails off, looking between your eyes and lips again. His hand starts to tremble against your waist. “You make it so hard.” 
“I do?” you ask dumbly, at a complete loss for words, trying not to read too much into his word choice. Why, anyone could say that word, hard, and not mean anything by it, it’s a word after all. An adjective, you think. 
Get out of your head. 
“Mm,” Sunghoon nods solemnly. “You have no idea.”
Three people nudge past you, each one shoving into him harder than the last; he looks thankful when you suggest going outside. His fingers brush against yours before he pulls them away, turning around to head for the garden immediately. 
The smell of smoke spikes through the fresh air, strong enough to make your head swim as Sunghoon closes the back door behind you. “Wow,” you whisper, looking around. It’s like stepping into a whole new party, with slow R&B pumping out into the summer heat. The garden spills out way beyond what your eyes can see, glowing with twinkling fairy lights and excited chatter.
“I know, right.” 
There’s a two step staircase in the centre that you follow Sunghoon up, mumbling an apology to the couple whose makeout sesh you had to break up to do so. Both of your footsteps crunch against the stone path that splits the grass, and — at Sunghoon’s request — you tell him everything that led you to this party tonight. Leaving out all of the overthinking that went into the text you eventually sent him of course.
“Wait, how old is Kazuha?” 
“21, she’s just waiting on her new ID coming in the mail.” 
“What happened to her old one?” 
“I think she’s like.. 13 or something in her old photo, and we didn’t get in last week either ‘cause the bouncer didn’t think it was her,” you pause. “Or she just looked too young in the photo. I’m not sure.”
You can hear Sunghoon humming along to the SZA song that’s playing, tilting his head at your words. His brows knit together for a beat, and he has to grab you by the forearm to keep you from tripping over your own feet. Sunghoon’s eyes meet yours, as he maintains his grip on you. “Thanks,” you say through a breath, trying to focus on anything other than his touch. 
“Let’s sit, yeah?” 
Sunghoon rests his arm around your shoulders when you nod, keeping you upright as you walk slowly towards the back of the garden. “I don’t know where you guys go out, but one time, we put Riki in a dress and gave him Hwang Yeji’s ID.”
“And then stayed home?” The mental image makes you cackle, getting funnier with each second you dwell on it, but your breath catches in your throat when you look up at him, shaking his head as best as he can while laughing. The way his head falls back, showing off the column of his neck and angle of his jaw forces you to screw your eyes shut to stop the thoughts of kissing him there. 
“And then took him to the club with us and got him to buy our first round.”
With each thing he shares about that night, it grows more and more unbelievable, leaving your jaw on the floor as he leads you around a timber shed (that houses a hot tub) to a big swingy chair thing. “I’ll find the photos in a sec,” he smiles. “Let me hold your cup while you sit.” 
The spot provides about as much privacy as you figure a packed house party could afford. Not that you need privacy to be endeared by Sunghoon or anything. You take him up on his offer, sitting down and watching as he ignores the phone ringing in his pocket, handing you back your drink. Even though you’re not thrilled about the interruption, you tell him he should at least check who it is. 
“Jungwon?” He flinches, yanking the phone away from his ear. Jungwon’s voice is so loud you can hear him despite the distance. “Yeah I got it, I’m at the swing outside.” The call ends there and Sunghoon still doesn’t sit down and neither of you speaks. 
Blinking fairy lights are strung neatly around the swing’s frame. Only a few of the bulbs are working, but together they produce enough light for you to see the sun-bleached blue of the cushion you’re sitting on, and the way Sunghoon’s looking straight at you. You smile. He doesn’t budge. Instead, he worries his bottom lip with his teeth for a while, completely spaced out, until a broad-shouldered child arrives. 
Sunghoon daps him up and your brows raise when he pulls a short, flat bottle of vodka from his back pocket to give to Jungwon. “How much do I owe you?” he asks, taking the bottle. 
“For the drink or for the lifelong tab you and Riki have been racking up?” 
Chuckling, Jungwon shakes his head and points his thumb at Sunghoon. “Don’t you just love that sense of humour?”
The two boys share a look, and Jungwon nods in understanding. He affectionately pats Sunghoon’s bicep, face lighting up in awe. “Wow!” he gasps, turning to glance at you. “Have you felt the muscles on this guy? I wanna be just like him when I grow up.” With wide eyes, he nudges Sunghoon in your direction. 
Despite his apparent indifference towards Jungwon’s attempts at hyping him up, Sunghoon comes closer to you, letting you feel his arm anyway. He flexes his bicep — all firm, sculpted muscle through his soft cardigan — under your fingers in a way that spreads fire in your stomach. Unintentionally, you catch his gaze and your breath gets stuck in your throat. A quiet laugh slips from his lips as he puts his arm down. 
It’s hard not to think about what Jungwon had said about growing up, and even harder not to study him to figure out his age. His outfit is similar to Sunghoon’s; loose pants and a knitted cardigan which does nothing to help you make an estimate. Not being able to buy his own booze tells you that he’s not your age, his wide eyes and round cheeks only make him seem like a child, but his height and broad shoulders throw you off.
“How old are you?” you ask, giving in to your curiosity. 
“21,” he says, too quickly. “.. in two years.” 
He lingers for a bit to hype Sunghoon up some more; not so subtly bringing up his great qualities, like his considerate nature and unwavering dedication. Though Sunghoon’s “never ending” patience wears out and he asks him to leave. With a nod, Jungwon waves goodbye before sprinting back towards the house. Sunghoon laughs watching his friend and sinks into the seat next to you, his thigh pressing against yours for a beat before he closes his legs and rests his arms over the back of the chair.
“Wow,” you grin, leaning into his side. “Figure skating legend Park Sunghoon buys alcohol for kids.” 
He shrugs. “I’m not a legend.” 
You raise a brow, a smirk playing at your lips. “That’s the part you’re disputing?”
“Well, the other part is true,” he says, chuckling though unable to hide the flash of discomfort in his eyes. “If you consider a 19-year-old a kid.” 
“You’re way too humble.”
“Anyone could be good with the right coach, and I have, like, the most supportive parents ever so they help me a lot.”  
“Well, yeah, probably, but even then, your parents aren’t the ones skating, you are,” you point out. 
Sunghoon deflates, sighing heavily. “Can we talk about something else?” He takes a sip from his cup in a silent plea for you to drop it. When his eyes meet yours, his lips press into a flat smile and the soft lighting brings out the dimple in his cheek. 
You nod, using your hand to push his hair away from his forehead. The flat smile spreads across his face as you play with his light hair, that’s somehow silky smooth under your fingers despite the bleach. It’s a little messy when you move your hand, sitting over his thick brows in a way that, when paired with his boyish grin, makes him look younger. 
A dull thump startles both of you as a couple jog away from the shed with linked hands and no regard for you or Sunghoon. Neither of you bother trying to hide your amusement when you meet each other’s eyes, laughing hard enough to make the swing sway. 
“I’m sorry,” you say after calming down — maybe too late. 
He shakes his head. “You don’t have to be.”
The smile on his face is soft, sincere, but does nothing for the guilt you feel over stressing him out — your lips tug into a frown.
“Hey,” Sunghoon whispers and his forehead is warm against yours when he nudges you, grinning at the way you giggle when he pulls away. “I’m not upset or anything.” he pauses. “I don’t think I’m upset or anything, I’m just tired, you know. I spend a lot of time talking about skating during the day and there’s, like, a million and one other things I’d rather talk about right now.”
His honesty assuages your guilt and piques your curiosity. “Yeah?” you ask, arching a brow. Sunghoon nods. “Other things like..” 
He hesitates, caught off by the suggestiveness in your tone, by the way your hand grazes his knee before resting low on his thigh. A gulp echoes in his throat. “Uh, like..” His voice trails off. 
There’s a flutter in your chest as a smile tugs at your lips. “Why don’t we start with those pictures of Riki at the club?” 
“Riki at the club,” he repeats, nodding his head. “I can do that.” 
Sunghoon’s arm falls around your shoulders when you nestle into him, close enough now that his scent hits you effortlessly. A tiny square in his camera roll expands under his thumb, showing you Riki in a tight black halter dress with his hair grown out and styled in neat curls. There’s a boxy grin spread across his lips while he holds Yeji’s ID next to his face. In the next picture, he crouches between Shin Ryujin and Lee Chaeryeong while the three of them make kissy faces for the camera. “And then he had two shots of Fireball and passed out in a booth so we had to carry him home.” 
A laugh bubbles in your throat at the sight of Riki hunched over in a booth with his head on the table, and tears start to spill when you watch the video of Heeseung stumbling down the street, accidentally letting Riki slip off his back and onto the concrete. 
Out of nowhere, Sunghoon’s eyes practically bulge out of his head; an expression you’ve only seen on Kazuha whenever she suspects she left her flat iron on at home. Dread settles in your stomach as you brace yourself for what he might say next. “Just give me a minute,” he says, his words holding an urgency that only fuels your nerves. “I need to text someone.” 
Sunghoon thinking about talking to someone else while you’re trying to get to know him isn’t your favourite thing. In fact, it feels worse than what you imagine might happen if Kazuha actually does leave her flat iron on one day — because it shuts off automatically after 15 minutes.
You try hiding your disappointment but you can feel your lips drooping at the corners as he angles his phone away from you, deep in thought about this message he so urgently has to send. Whatever, you think. Couldn’t care less.
At long last, he finishes typing and pulls air through his teeth before putting his phone back in his pocket, drumming his nails against the seat until your phone goes off in your lap. In a fit of Kazuha-inspired absurdity, you want Sunghoon to feel bad about his lack of manners, so you ignore the notification despite your burning curiosity.
“Aren’t you gonna get that?” he asks, his gaze fixed on you expectantly. 
You shake your head. “It can wait.” 
A frown creases Sunghoon’s brow and you hate it; checking your phone immediately to find two texts from the boy sitting next to you.
sh: hey yn! sorry i took so long
sh: if it’s not too late do u wNt to go on a date with me next saturday?
After six days of exchanging Spotify links with Sunghoon over text, Saturday rolls around, and the doorbell chimes earlier than you’d been expecting it to. You call out that you’ll get the door, grab your bag and bolt down the stairs. With a hand on the door handle, you catch your breath, an act that seems pointless when you see Sunghoon through the glass. The door creaks open and his neck snaps in your direction, jaw falling to the floor. 
He waves. 
Your greeting is followed only by silence, your Hey, Sunghoon, dissipating into the sticky summer heat as he chews on his cheek, letting his eyes scan your body over and over. If he didn’t look so nervous you might have offered to pose for a picture. “How are you?” you ask, locking the door behind you and double-checking that you did lock it before tossing your keys into your purse. 
“You’re so pretty,” he sighs, pushing his hand through his hair. “And I love your dress,” he adds. “Very pretty.”
“Yeah?”
Sunghoon nods and suddenly, your group FaceTime call with Chaewon, Minjeong, and Yunjin feels like two hours well spent. 
While you tried on every summer outfit in your wardrobe for them to judge, Minjeong gave enthusiastic reactions to Sunghoon’s tagged photos, or, rather, to Mark in Sunghoon’s tagged photos but even she was struck by the outfit you settled on. The pretty floral dress that sits at the middle of your thighs that Sunghoon can’t seem to look away from. Hopefully, you’ll remember to thank them appropriately. 
You follow him to his car where he opens the passenger door for you. Struck by the fact that this is the first time anyone’s done that for you, and the sound of his hand rattling against the metal, you sit down, beaming up at him as he closes the door. Sunghoon’s car is neat, and tidy, and smells pleasantly of the new car scent Little Tree that hangs, completely still, from his rearview mirror. Through the clean windscreen, you watch him walk around the front of the car with pursed lips. 
“You like ice cream, right?” he asks when he sits down, looking over at you nervously. 
“Who doesn’t like ice cream?” 
Sunghoon takes you to a little old diner themed ice cream spot with checkerboard floors and a handful of plush vinyl booths. Some of the walls have cursive LED signs that you can’t quite make out and a great big jukebox in the back corner plays What Makes You Beautiful. 
It doesn’t surprise you that Sunghoon is quiet when it’s just you guys, but you can tell that he’s trying his best. He listens attentively to everything you have to say, nodding his head and asking thoughtful questions at all the right times; he makes you laugh more than you ever have. He practically lights up when you bring up his friends. 
“Your friends are so cute,” you say with a smile, thinking of the change Riki had given Yunjin to buy those slushys the other day. 
“If you knew my friends you wouldn’t think that,” Sunghoon says, a fond smile that goes against his words spreading on his face at the mention of them. “Except Jake,” he corrects. “Jake is so cute, yes.” 
“I don’t think I know which one he is,” you admit. “I know Heeseung, I know Jay, Jungwon, and Riki..” you trail off, looking up at him and the smudge of ice cream on his lower lip.
“Jake is the cute one,” he frowns. “You’ll know him when I show you.” Sunghoon takes his phone from his pocket, scrolling for a while. “I’m sorry, I can’t find a normal photo of all seven of us.” 
“Just show me whatever,” you say, looking up at him and the smudge of ice cream on his bottom lip.
Without thinking, you reach over the table, using your thumb to wipe it away. Sunghoon’s cheeks immediately flush with pink and he gulps watching you suck the ice cream from the pad of your finger.
“Thanks,” he mumbles, shy, while turning his phone towards you to show the most absurdly staged photograph you think you’ve ever seen. “So, uh, Jake is.. he’s the one holding Heeseung up by his hair, and Sunoo’s posing in front of Jay.” Sunghoon hands you his phone when he’s done talking.
You use the opportunity to examine the picture. 
Jake (so cute) really does hold Heeseung up by his hair, and Sunoo (also so cute) shows the camera his pretty side profile and a thumbs up. Some other things stick out to you in the photo, a laugh making its way out of you as you notice that Jungwon isn’t there but Jay holds up a printed picture of him in his right hand. Riki sits between Jay and Jake, wearing a concerned expression about something going on off-camera. Sunghoon is in the back, holding what looks like a yoga pose on the back of the couch they’re sitting on. 
Happily, you let Sunghoon tell you more about his friends until the sun starts to set and the backs of your thighs stick to the vinyl seat. Not quite ready to say goodbye, you ask Sunghoon if you can go on a walk together. He seems into the idea, nodding his head and smiling down at you. 
Walking aimlessly, the two of you maintain a neutral silence (not uncomfortable, not particularly comfortable either, just quiet), and pretend not to notice the way the backs of your hands touch, each bump longer than the last though amounting to nothing. 
It’s not until comforted by the smell of chemically treated water that you realise how close to the pool you are. You follow Sunghoon around a corner and see the locked gates, wondering if he’d brought you this way on purpose or just out of habit. 
“Wish it was open,” you say off-handedly, not really meaning anything by it. Like telling the person you sit beside on the first day of class that you’re so tired even though you had the best night of sleep in your life. 
Sunghoon isn’t beside you when you look over at him, he’s a few paces behind you, standing by the gates. A mischievous smile spreads on his lips as he holds his keys in his hand, dangling them. “It could be.” 
“Are we allowed to do this?” you ask nervously, watching Sunghoon twist his key in the lock. 
“Allowed to?” he repeats, tilting his head as though the concept is foreign to him. “No, I don’t think so.” A satisfying click sounds as the lock comes undone and Sunghoon pushes the gate open with a huge grin on his face as he gestures for you to go inside first. “After you.” 
He follows you in, shutting the gate behind him and holding out a hand for you to take; you lock your fingers with his and decide that you never want to let go. Not even after a thin layer of sweat forms between your palms. 
The space seems so large when it’s empty like this, with the parasols closed and the lack of screaming children. Streetlights cover the area in a dim orange haze, turning it into a fuzzy dreamscape. The pool itself seems so small when you see it covered up, nothing like the ocean-wide abyss you remember it being when you were young, racing with Chaewon, or pretending like you were only playing around when you tried to drown Jaehyun. 
“Do you wanna get in?” Sunghoon asks, his soft voice interrupting your thoughts. 
You don’t hesitate to nod. 
One night a week, the pool stays open until after dark, but you’ve never been. So when the mechanised pool cover whirs open after Sunghoon flips the switch, you’re shocked by the lights that illuminate the still water. It makes sense that the pool would have some form of lighting for safety, but you hadn’t expected the yellowing fixtures set in the tiled walls to shine so beautifully.
“Come on,” he says, taking you by the hand again, approaching the water. 
A part of you wants to protest when he lets go, but the words catch in your throat as he pulls his shirt over his head. Having spent the better part of most summers poolside, the sight of shirtless Sunghoon isn’t a new one though you find yourself breathless all the same. It’s different tonight but he doesn’t seem to notice. 
Worried you’ll break the spell, you can’t bring yourself to speak. Worried you’ll open your mouth and the moment might slip out from under you. These worries, however, are no match for Sunghoon’s slim waist which leaves your mouth forming an O at the sight. 
“Wow,” you whisper, awestruck. 
Sunghoon laughs, nervously, running a hand through his hair and using the other to hold his shirt over his stomach. “Don’t do that,” he says under his breath. He drops the shirt. The rest of his clothes follow, quickly leaving him in only his tight-fitting black boxer briefs that you struggle to look away from. 
An odd feeling starts to creep in, causing a fire in your belly — obviously from the sweet cider you had earlier, nothing at all to do with Sunghoon. Or his sculpted torso. Or his face, with his soft smile, and sparkling eyes. No one’s ever looked at you like this before.
“What are you thinking about?” 
Those shoulders. Those lips. Kissing those lips. You gulp. “Nothing.” 
Even though he doesn’t look like he believes you, he doesn’t press you on it. Instead, he smiles. Sunghoon turns his back to you, walking towards the pool’s edge to dip a pointed toe into the water. You like the way he hums, nodding his head as if it’s just to his liking. 
“Feels good?”
“Perfect,” he grins, stepping into the pool. 
A splash makes the water ripple around him — you’ve never noticed it’s so clear, you can see everything. From the mosaic-like blue tiles on the pool floor and walls to the way Sunghoon’s hair moves around his head. It’s a dazzling blue, shifting brilliantly through the whole spectrum under light from the moon, the pool, and the lampposts. 
Considering the way you’re sweating in the sticky heat, the water even looks refreshing, so you’re not sure why you don’t move to pull your dress off; or why you can’t shake your nerves. Sunghoon’s seen you in skin-tight dresses, and skimpy bikinis, so you’re not sure why the thought of him seeing you in your underwear is spooking you so much. It could be your lack of a bra. But even then, Sunghoon isn’t going to be the first person to see your bare breasts.
Interrupting your thoughts, he bobs to the surface with closed eyes and straight lips; his dimple shows. Pushing hair from his forehead, he asks if you’re going to join him though he seems to sense your apprehension, shaking his head. “You don’t have to take anything off,” he tells you gently. “Except maybe your shoes and socks.” 
You nod, stepping out of your shoes and pulling your socks off almost robotically. 
“It’s okay,” he smiles, comforting, reassuring, as he swims up to the edge of the pool and extends his wet hand to you. “I got you.”
You tell yourself to get out of your head, looking into Sunghoon’s sparkling eyes and feeling at ease from the way he looks up at you like you’re God’s gift. When you reach for the bottom of your dress, he gulps, his arm falling limply against the coping. You turn away from him to pull the light fabric over your head, letting it fall in a heap next to your shoes, and Sunghoon’s looking in the other direction when you turn back around. Even with the ‘privacy’ he’s afforded you by looking away, you can’t help but use your arms to cover your chest as you make your way over to the pool, sitting down on the edge and slipping into the water. 
It is refreshing. The water is the perfect temperature as it envelops you, soothes you.
Just more than an arm’s length away, Sunghoon’s form is broad. His shoulders are so wide and his back so toned that your head starts to swim. His skin, sunkissed, glowing, is dotted with pretty moles that you’ve never noticed before but can’t look away from — suddenly feeling as though you could point to each one with your eyes closed. 
With an odd half step, you reach him, letting your arms fall around his waist and pressing your chest to his back. You don’t know why you do that.
He draws a sharp breath. “Hi,” he whispers after a beat. 
“Hi.” 
A quiet falls between you until Sunghoon mumbles, over there, while pointing towards the deep end of the pool. You swim poorly behind him and he only stops when you call out his name. Sunghoon breaks out into laughter when he sees you. For him, who’s well into the deep end, the, now still, water might tease his chin if disrupted. For you, almost 2 metres behind, the water tickles your nose even when you stand on your tiptoes.
“Whoa,” he whispers. 
You tilt your head back to speak. “What?” 
“You’re just..” He pauses to gulp. “So short.”  
Offended, you scoff. “I’m the tallest out of all my friends,” you say defensively. And untruthfully — hoping he’s never seen you standing next to Yunjin.
“Are you friends with the Lakers?”
You drift away from him, laughing as well, until the water just about reaches your armpits. He follows you. As more of his body breaches the surface, water slips from his chest, droplets and streaks glowing under the white light of the moon, completely breathtaking.
“I was so nervous about today,” he says, pushing some water towards you, his lighthearted tone gone. 
“Oh?” You pause, continuing when he nods, and push water back in his direction. “How do you feel now?” 
Sunghoon’s pouty lips jerk up the corners, playful, boyish. A soft laugh slips from the space between his teeth. “I’m absolutely terrified.” His honesty draws you to him, and has you actually drifting closer in the water.
“What’s scaring you?” 
His breath seems to catch in his throat. He tilts his head while eyeing you. “Are you asking because you really don’t know?” If you’d still been splashing each other you doubt you’d have heard him talking over the water.
“Does it matter?”
Sunghoon seems to consider this for a moment, to consider you. Despite sitting just high enough to cover your breasts, the water doesn’t do very much to conceal them and his eyes get stuck on your chest for more than a little while. He clears his throat, looking back up at your face. He doesn’t answer. Instead, he raises his hands and smacks the surface of the water between you with open palms. A big splash hits you in the face. 
It’s on, you think, doing the same thing to him with all the force you can muster and laugh at the yelp he lets out. Something of a splash fight ensues, both of you doing everything you can to create a bigger mess of water to attack the other with. 
The rain starts so subtly that you don’t even notice it at first. You’re both too busy laughing and trying to splash the other harder to think about anything else. Only when you stop to catch your breath, to rest your aching arms, do you catch the faint ripples skating across the pool’s surface. Sunghoon doesn’t relent, taking the opportunity to gain the upper hand. And the rain gets heavy fast.
“Sunghoon, it’s raining, stop!” you call out, turning your face away from him. His raucous laughter makes your stomach flutter as you grab his wrist. “Come on, we’re gonna get wet, we have to go!” 
When you look back over at him, his smile is so wide, so sweet that you almost feel faint. Sunghoon doesn’t stop laughing, the sound is so contagious you can’t help but join in. His arms fall around your waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world to do while he cackles in front of you, you let your hands rest on his firm triceps. 
Large droplets start hitting your lashes, clinging to them, obscuring your vision, so you bring a hand up to act like an awning above your eyes. He calls you so cute under his breath though his laughter doesn’t seem like it’s going to stop anytime soon. 
“Hoon, come on. What’s so funny?”
The rain is cold against your shoulders but the boy in front of you doesn’t seem to share your concerns about the sudden downpour. You lock eyes with him, and his laughter seems to get caught in his throat. He’s still smiling but seems nervous, as though he’s only now become aware that he’s holding you so close that your naked chest is pressed against his. 
Sunghoon clears his throat. His smile returns, as a breathy laugh makes its way from his nose. He lets his face come down towards yours, slow, cautious, and too desperate to wait, you meet his lips halfway; they’re every bit as soft as you’d imagined. 
As if relieved, Sunghoon’s shoulders sag and his body seems to melt into your own. Desperation, hunger hits you from all angles, lighting up your insides and leaving your skin burning under his touch. Unthinkingly, you link your arms around his neck to pull him impossibly close, almost whimpering when his tongue grazes yours.
Sunghoon tastes light and sugary, like the perfect combination of artificial strawberry and sweet coffee as his tongue moves against yours. From your mouth into his slips a dreamy sigh, while he holds onto you gently, like you’re the most delicate thing in the world; like he’s the most delicate thing. Why haven’t you been kissed like this before? So slowly, so softly, as if he means it. As if he’s kissing you for no reason other than simply wanting to kiss you. 
Only when he pulls away to catch his breath do you regain your senses and notice how much heavier the rain has become. But your brain short circuits at the sight of him. His breathing is ragged, his chest rises and falls against yours. Water darkened hair clings to his forehead, letting beads slip from its ends to his cheekbone before slipping down the column of his neck.
Shelter is the only word you manage to say and all you can do is hope that he’s able to work out the rest. Like something from the purest depths of your imagination, Sunghoon’s kiss-bitten lips stretch into a wide smile. A giggle, the softest thing you’ve ever come across, slips from his mouth while his fingers squeeze at your hips. 
“YN,” he says, breathless. “We’re in the pool.”
Dripping water onto the concrete under your feet, you and Sunghoon walk at snail’s pace from his car to your front door, with your linked hands swinging between your bodies. 
The porch light diffuses dramatically over Sunghoon’s features, and somehow, even under the stark lighting, he’s still beautiful. His wet hair drips water onto his shoulders, darkening his shirt in abstract splashes around the neckline. A grin splits across his lips when he locks eyes with you, his face scrunching up and his shoulders racking up and down as he laughs to himself. 
It’s impossible not to join in. “What’s so funny?” 
He only shrugs in response, struggling to keep a straight face. “I’m just.. happy,” he says eventually, a tinge of uncertainty hanging from his words. 
With shaking hands, Sunghoon grabs you by the waist and holds you close, leaning down to kiss you. As your lips move with his, the only thing you can think about is how badly you want to feel this moment forever. To feel the tremble in sweet Sunghoon’s hands as he holds onto you gently, to feel his soft hair under your fingertips, and his hard chest pressed against your body. To feel his lips curving into a smile, his forehead resting on yours as his breath fans your lips. “Are you happy too?” he asks. 
You think you’ll die if you ever forget the way it feels to like Park Sunghoon.
“Yes. Very.” 
Through the peephole in your front door, you watch as Sunghoon stands outside, bringing a hand to his cheek, fingers grazing the spot where you’re certain your lip gloss lingers. You suppress a giggle with your hand and run up the stairs to your room where you bury your face in your pillow to muffle a squeal. You can’t remember the last time you felt so giddy over something that was happening in your own life rather than something sweet you’d read in a book or heard about from a friend.
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With Chaewon’s hand in yours, and butterflies in your stomach, you make your way to the community pool for the first time in about a week. Like always, you find Sunghoon’s friends wreaking havoc in the water until.. something happens. By the time it occurs, you’ve been laying poolside for about an hour, trying to convince your best friend that you liking a guy isn’t going to do anything to your friendship. 
“You’re not supposed to like that guy,” Chaewon whines like a child, playing with the frayed hem of her shorts. “You’re only supposed to like me!” A sigh passes from her lips as she uses her arm to shield her eyes from the sun. “And Yunjin!” she adds after too long. 
“What about the rest of our friends?” 
“And Kazuha, and Minjeong, and Jaehyun, an—” 
“Jaehyun’s a guy.” 
She seems a little thrown off by your interruption, pursing her lips before speaking. “Well, yeah, but.. he’s one of our guys. A Chaewon-approved guy.” 
Suddenly, the noise level reduces by at least half and you can’t help but feel alarmed, whipping your head in the direction of the pool. A quick scan tells you that nothing bad has happened, allowing you to release a breath you didn’t know you were holding. In the corner of your eye, you see Sunghoon’s friends huddled together and quickly realise that the space has only gotten so quiet because they’re chatting at a normal volume. Huh, you think, it almost sounds like the speakers are quite good. Heeseung and Jay get out of the water, sitting up on the pool’s edge while the other four boys all stand in place, all six of them fix their eyes on something in front of them but you don’t care enough to investigate further. 
You look back at Chaewon as a pout settles on your lips. “Why can’t Chaewon approve of my guy?”
“When you say that Sunghoon is your guy, do you mean it in the same way that Yeonjun is your guy?” she asks, her tone scathing but her face concerned. “Or, the way that Asahi is your guy, or, even Yoshi?” 
“No. This is different. Sunghoon is different.” 
You know how trite and naive you must sound, but he is different. You’d never dated a guy who’d pick you up right at your front door; Yeonjun and Yoshi typically sent DMs to let you know they’d parked out front, and Asahi did nothing but honk the car horn because he found it funny. Though to call what you were doing with those guys ‘dating’ would be a huge overstatement. There was Renjun from first year who was nice enough but never wanted to hang out, and Donghyuck who made you laugh but never complimented you. 
Chaewon crinkles her nose, reaching out to hold your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I really hope you’re right.”
And now there’s Sunghoon. Sunghoon who tells you that he can’t wait to see you again; who always tells you how pretty you look; who blushes when you hold his hand, who touches his cheek when you kiss it. You can’t imagine him doing anything bad to anyone. Sunghoon is different, and you hope you can be different this time too. In all the time you spend thinking, your guy shows up with a shy smile on his face with both of his hands behind his back. 
It’s your first time seeing him in person since your date and the sun glows against his skin, his wet hair tickling his thick brows as he stands at the foot of your chairs, watching Chaewon nervously. “Hi, Chaewon,” he says after a while.
“Hello!” She grins, seeming so bright and happy that you find it hard to reconcile this Chaewon with the one who’d been clutching her chest and sliding down the walls over the fact you have a crush on the boy she’s now being so pleasant to. 
“I got this,” Sunghoon says, bringing his hand from behind his back to reveal a strawberry-flavoured slushy. “For you.” He adds on, holding the drink out to your friend. While Chaewon gushes about how much she likes the mix of berries that make up her favourite flavour, Sunghoon hums and nods along while making his way to the other side of your chair. He wears a wider, more confident smile on his face while he stands over you. 
“Hi, gorgeous,” he says quietly, bringing his other hand out to give you the blue raspberry slushy he’s been holding. With his foot, Sunghoon drags a spare lounger from behind him next to yours before moving out of the way and using his hands to push it some more, making the armrest touch yours. “Hey,” he smiles, taking a seat. 
You take a grateful sip of your drink, surprised at how much better it tastes coming from him. “Thank you, Hoon.” You can’t stop yourself from leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek, liking the way your stomach flutters when his hand flies up to touch the spot you’d kissed.
“I like when you do that.” 
“This?” you ask, kissing him again. Through squinted eyes, you notice a dusting of pink over his cheeks and take such a big sip of your slushy that every single part of your body goes numb and your head starts to hurt. Sunghoon only laughs, watching you. It’s quiet between you for a bit until you come to. “I’m not complaining, really, but don’t you have.. lives to guard?” 
“I’m on break,” he says. “Do you want me to go?” His brows raise dramatically as the corners of his lips sink to the floor, a glint of something playful in his sparkling eyes. 
You shake your head, face alighting with a grin when you remember something. “So can I see the skating videos you promised you’d show me?” 
All playfulness is gone. “Did I.. promise?” 
“Yes!” You don’t like the way he arches his brow at you. “Two nights ago.. before you fell asleep on the phone.” 
He scoffs at you, playfully. “If I remember correctly, you fell asleep on the phone,” Sunghoon says, tone accusatory. “And you snore.” Sunghoon lets his cheek lie flat against the chair, grinning. He’s beautiful. And correct.
“Skating videos,” you repeat. Sunghoon rolls his eyes at you, grinning brilliantly when you laugh. “I’m serious,” you frown. 
“You’re cute,” he says quietly, like it’s a correction. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.” Sunghoon pauses but takes your nod as a sign to continue. “I have a thing, next Tuesday, and I was wondering if you’d want to come and see me skate in person?” His voice tips up at the end of the question.
Excitement bubbles up inside you, causing you to sit up straight in your seat, turning your body to face him. “You want me to come?” 
He nods eagerly. 
“I’ll be there.” 
The tips of Sunghoon’s ears redden as he smiles at you, his eyes scanning your face. You can’t resist kissing him, and he doesn’t try to stop you, meeting your lips halfway. It’s sweet as sugar and goes on until his friends start to cheer loudly and Sunghoon pulls away, shy. But he looks like he wants to kiss you again. You grab him by the cord of the whistle around his neck and pull him back towards you. Relief floods you when your lips reunite.
“I’m gonna text you later with the details, time and shit,” he mumbles against your lips before getting up to go. 
As he retreats, he looks over his shoulder a few times, waving at you and smiling widely while he does. Until he bumps into a small child who practically topples over; Sunghoon manages to catch them in the nick of time and his neck flushes pink. 
It doesn’t make sense to you how he could be so cute. 
Chaewon watches you as she sips her slushy with an appreciative smile, letting out a long ahh of refreshment before putting the cup down. “Chaewon approved.” 
It seems like your mother’s been back from work for a while when you get home. A stretchy white headband holds her hair out of her face while she stands over a pot on the stove, looking comfy in some sweatpants.
Happy to see you, she pulls you into a hug, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Hi, honey,” she grins. 
She turns down your offer to help and insists on you setting the table instead, which you do happily, taking a seat when you’re done. Through her phone, she plays the music she listened to while you were growing up and sitting there, watching your mum cook while dripping chlorinated water from your hair to the kitchen floor, makes you feel a bit like a child. Like it’s 2008 and you’ve come home from a day at the pool with Chaewon, who would sit across from you at the dinner table, all blunt fringe and missing teeth, talking about this brand new thing called cheesecake, while your mother made dinner for the three of you with a towel wrapped on her head, drying her wet hair. 
As your mum fills your plate, she tells you about her day at work. Her boss was unreasonable, like always, and her office bestie took off on maternity leave. Again. She asks you about your day and pretends like she doesn’t notice the way you smile when you talk about the pool. 
You don’t wait to tell her about Sunghoon. 
“Is that who you went out with last week?” 
You cough around a grain of rice; you don’t remember mentioning him. “How do you know?” 
A smile takes over her face. “Because I watched him stand around the driveway for five minutes before he rang the bell.” You can’t help the way you laugh, it sounds like him to a tee. “What’s he like?” 
You tilt your head for a minute, thinking. “I still feel like we’re getting to know each other, you know?” Understanding, she nods her head. So, naturally, you talk for the better part of 10 minutes about Sunghoon until your food gets cold and your cheeks hurt from smiling. 
In preparation for Sunghoon’s skating showcase, you read up on the sport and audience etiquette, and stay up late the night before making a pretty banner for him. Sleepiness plagues you when you wake up that afternoon but at least you’re happy with the way the sign came out. 
While doing your makeup, you start to second guess your outfit choice. It was nice when you picked it last week, and it was nice when you put it on an hour ago and then back on twenty minutes ago. So, out of options, you stand in front of the mirror for the umpteenth time, sending Sunghoon a picture of your flowy off-white dress and asking if it’s okay. 
Sunghoon, dramatic as ever, responds with a selfie, all pretty smile and red hearts drawn over his eyes. You almost want to drop dead at the sight of him. And then another message comes through, no words, just emojis. At least 40 silly little yellow faces fill the text box. Some are crying, some have heart eyes, some have starry eyes, and some are drooling. There seems to be no apparent order, and you see sprinkles of white hearts in between them. 
sh: you look so beautiful you’re so beautiful baby
Baby, he’d said. Simple, pixelated, enough to make your heart flip in your chest. 
sh: can i come over 
sh: just to loo k at you or smth 
you: please 
You want to kiss him. 
sh: ok omw .. lying i dont have time :((( 
sh: also i fucked up my hair last night don’t laugh when you see me. 
you: no promises .. 
There’s a short queue at the reception desk when you arrive at the rink. The lobby is full of excited parents and bored teens, all eager with anticipation for the start (and end) of the summer showcase. Sunghoon had been relatively vague about the event until you called him last night, with a list of questions about it. With one question about it. The two of you chatted and laughed for hours until you got an answer. 
When he’s not spending the day at the pool, Sunghoon volunteers to teach kids classes at the rink he grew up in. Every year, the teaching cycle runs from April to July, at which point the rink holds the summer showcase, for parents and family members to attend and see what they’ve been funding for the past four months. 
“We don’t normally let parents sit in on classes because it’s distracting for the kids,” he explained through a yawn. “And it’s the whole reason I started skating in the first place.” Sunghoon paused. You hadn’t been expecting him to stop speaking but you rubbed your eyes and mumbled oh, really? as you used a pencil to sketch out the outline of your bubble letters. “You know, at first I thought you fell asleep, but I didn’t hear you snoring so I got a little worried,” he said, nervous. 
“I’m still here.” 
He fell quiet for a beat, speaking nervously. “Just let me know if I’m boring you, yeah?” 
“I could listen to you talk forever,” you admitted. “I’m having fun learning more about you.” 
Sunghoon’s light laughter made you bite back a giggle. “You make me feel good about myself,” he said quietly before continuing, giving you no time to respond. “But, yeah, I used to play hockey because I didn’t know how to talk to anyone except my parents and my one-year-old little sister, but my only friend on the hockey team invited me to go and watch him at the showcase one year and it was just.. the greatest thing I’d ever seen.” 
You encouraged Sunghoon to go on, still reeling from his quiet confession, and loving the grin in his voice while he spoke about skating and the way he laughed through some stories from work. Like how on a quiet day at the pool when he’d been messing around with Heeseung, Jake, and Riki in the water, some random guy approached them. 
“And this is so crazy too because we were just, like, fucking around, and the guy goes, “My grandmother can swim faster than you,” like he yelled it and stomped away.” 
Worried about waking your sleeping parents, you covered your mouth while laughing, mainly from the offence you can hear in Sunghoon’s voice over something that happened in October. “What did you guys do after that?” 
“I was on shift so I clocked out and went home.” 
The back of the program has a picture of Sunghoon and some of the other skating coaches, but it’s hard to pay attention to them or the signup sheet at the bottom when you see the wide smile on his face; you love the photo, it’s your favourite. He looks so happy, so radiant. If the scrunch of his nose and eyes is anything to go by, he must have been laughing when the picture was taken. This detail only makes you love it even more. 
In the corner of your eye, Jake leans against a wall, scrolling through his phone with a sheet of paper tucked under his arm. Seeing as he’s now (technically) your friend-in-law, you decide to approach him. Through the crowd of attendees waiting to be seated, he spots you as well, rushing over with the widest smile you’ve ever seen on anyone. You could count his teeth. 
Jake takes you by surprise, hugging you. “Hey! Hoon’s so happy that you’re here,” he says, somehow smiling even wider. “I’m so happy that you’re here, I finally have company!” 
When the double doors to the rink open up, you follow Jake to what he describes as the best seats in the house. “I always sit up here, so our boy knows to look over,” he says with a smile, his eyes never leaving you. “In case you were worried about that. It’s kinda far, and there’s lights, so you might have to wave a little harder than normal but, he’ll see you.” 
You nod, smiling too. “Got it.” Jake doesn’t look away. “Are you okay?” you ask him. More out of concern for your own well-being than anything else; you’ve heard of people murdering their best friend’s crushes before. 
He chews on his lip, tilting his head. All traces of his welcoming smile have faded, replaced with a more solemn expression as he looks over your shoulder for a beat. “Sunghoon’s my best friend,” he starts, and it’s hard not to picture yourself tumbling to your death down the slowly populating rows in front of you. They seem steeper now than before. “And he’s.. well.. you know him. It’s just that, he really likes you, you know? And I’m not saying this to be rude but I know about Yeonjun.. and—” Jake stops short, shooting you an apologetic look. “Anyway, I know that for some people, for you, for me, even, seeing more than one person at a time isn’t a big deal, but Hoon’s not like that.” 
You wait for him to continue. He doesn’t. 
A voice booms through the tannoy, telling everyone to take their seats as the show will be starting soon. 
Unsure what to say, you look out at the ice while Jake’s words sink in. It might have been easier to come up with something if he’d been any less kind about it. Spoken to you in a harsher tone. You hate the idea of Sunghoon knowing about the others, even if they were before him. Hate the idea of Jake having a similar conversation with him; telling Sunghoon that he’s not trying to be rude but..
“Sunghoon’s..” you pause, nervous. “He’s the best, and I can’t imagine seeing anyone else,” you admit. 
Jake beams, trusting you, and nods his head. “He’s gonna love your banner,” he grins. “And that.. angry looking plushy you brought.” 
The lights cut and all of the chatter hushes in an instant. Slowly, they fade back on, as a classical piece begins. Jake bounces his leg so hard you can feel the bench rattle under you, he’s practically glowing with giddiness. He’s like a little puppy, a golden retriever with light hair to match. 
After a short while, a boy skates out onto the ice, tall, graceful, an—Riki? He reaches the middle of the rink and introduces himself, enthusiastically reading a script from a few cue cards and looking right up into the stands to wear you and Jake sit. Beside you, Jake cheers, raising his banner, and you crane your neck to read it (LUCKY STRAWBERRIKI), and on the ice, Riki hides his face with his hand, quickly looking at his feet before continuing with his intro. 
You count eight tiny kids skating towards Riki, followed by Jungwon, and a line of other older skaters, Sunghoon is the last to appear, and your stomach churns with pride. All of them are dressed casually; you like Sunghoon’s straight-cut jeans and open button-up. 
As Jake predicted, Sunghoon (and Jungwon, and Riki) look up in your general direction, and next to you, Jake struggles to hold all three posters up at once so you help him, yelling along excitedly. It’s hard to tell from so far away but it feels like Sunghoon is staring straight at you like you’re the only two people at the rink. You feel like standing, like standing and singing HOOOOOOOOOOOON at the top of your lungs. For a moment you wonder if he’d shout back, telling you that right now he can hardly breathe. As if reading your mind, his mouth tugs up at the corners, slightly, before spreading into an ear-to-ear grin that makes your cheeks burn. 
The entire show passes by in an adorable whirlwind, as you and Jake applaud and encourage all of the performers, gushing with one another over how cute the baby skaters (including Jungwon and Riki) are. It’s beautiful and exciting, and you’re so happy you came. 
But time seems to stop when Sunghoon returns. Jake cheers loudly for him when he skates out; you can’t bring yourself to do the same. 
He comes to a stop in the middle of the rink, looking right up at the two of you. Jake waves his poster and raises yours too, seeming to notice the way you’re stuck to the spot. Sunghoon smiles, and somehow, he’s even more beautiful than you remembered. 
Graceful, elegant, Sunghoon glides on the ice when the music starts, immediately skating into a jump — you watch with held breath. He spins once, his arms tucked neatly by his sides, his hair fanning out around his head. Another spin, beautiful, clean. In the seats around you, people are cheering, you can hear them clear as day but the only person you see is Sunghoon who’s turning into his third rotation; the last. He sticks the landing, and an eternity has passed by as you let a sigh of relief slip out. 
Each jump is more gorgeous than the last, though seems to go on forever — you’re nervous as if it’s you on the ice. 
Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you watch as he skates beautifully, executing smooth spins and controlled turns. You don’t think you could look away from him if you tried — this must be what people mean when they say someone was born for something. Even in the casual setting, he looks like a professional, just as stable and fluid as he was in the videos you’d watched. 
The music fades out, his performance is done, and you find yourself thankful for the fact that no one’s sitting behind you as you stand up. Jake does the same. Both of you hold your banners up for him to see, cheering louder than anyone else. Sunghoon raises a hand to wave at you. You wave back excitedly, getting a little flustered by the girl sitting a few rows ahead of you who turns around, smiling dreamily at Jake and rolling her eyes at you.
After bowing politely, Sunghoon looks back up at you, and you can’t help but blow him a kiss, only feeling silly about it when Jake nudges you with a goofy smile. You watch as Sunghoon raises his right hand for a beat, shifting a little on his skates before reaching out ahead of him, catching the flying kiss. 
Butterflies run rampant in your stomach when he holds his hand, and your kiss, over his heart.
As the show ends, you chat with Jake for a bit, gushing over the performances together as the audience clears out, and you trudge slowly down the stairs and back into the lobby. It’s nice chatting with him, seeing the way his face lights up as he talks so excitedly and passionately about his friends. 
You understand why Sunghoon likes him so much.
Sunghoon shows up at the other end of the lobby space, a vision in purple-tinted hair. You have to tell yourself to keep your feet planted on the spot for fear of literally running into his arms. He doesn’t seem to share the same sentiment, thank God, jogging through the lobby, dipping and dodging people as best and as fast as he can to reach you. 
He hugs you. Holds you tight. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he says, quietly, only for you. 
In your chest, your heart seems to grow tiny fists that throw a million punches a minute. Your brain scrambles for the words to say but you can’t come up with anything, hoping that the tightness of your arms around him lets him know that you’re glad to be here. 
He lets go of you, beaming, and moves to dap up Jake, asking his friend if he’s aware that he’s taking Jungwon and Riki go-karting tonight. 
“I’m doing what?” 
“Yeah, they wanted me to take them but I’m busy.” 
“Busy doing what?” Jake asks conspiratorially, arching a brow. He glances sideways at you, and can’t hold back his laughter. 
Sunghoon sets his jaw, punching Jake in the stomach. “Grow up,” he mutters, stifling a laugh of his own. 
You laugh too, partially at what Jake said, mostly at the way he keels over, clutching his stomach, a long groan passing from his lips. Sunghoon’s brows raise when you hand him the banner. “Look what I made for you.” 
“I saw you holding it earlier, baby, I love it,” he says, beaming at you as he reads over it again. “You did such a good job. Can I take it home?” His eyes sparkle when he looks up at you. Your heart cinches in your chest. 
“Of course.”
Next to you, Jake holds out the banner he made. “Do you wanna take mine home?” 
Sunghoon doesn’t even spare him a glance. “Recycle it,” he says. 
Jake tilts his head, confused. A loud huh comes out as he raises his brows. “I make a banner for you every single year and every single time you turn your nose up at it. But here comes a pretty girl and all of a sudden you love banners. Really, Sunghoon? You love it?” He pauses to let out a laugh, incredulous, seeming not to care about the few people that have turned over in your direction. “I can’t stand you.” Jake’s voice is whiny and hard to take seriously.
“I don’t love banners, I love this banner,” Sunghoon corrects, using his hand to shove Jake’s shoulder before holding the banner up over his chest. 
Amused, you watch the two boys bicker for a bit before Jake cuts Sunghoon off mid-sentence, raising his hands, muttering the word whatever.
Sunghoon seems sceptical of Badtz-Maru when you hand him over. He holds the plushy in his hand, eyeing it suspiciously before wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “He’s cute, baby, really, but why’d you pick the world’s unhappiest penguin?”
“He reminded me of you.” Sunghoon’s jaw drops, brows knitting together as he tilts his head, all while Jake struggles to stifle a laugh. “Because he’s from Gorgeoustown,” you add, your heart singing when Sunghoon kisses the top of your head, and you can’t resist letting your arms wrap around his waist. 
Compliments flow out of you like water from a fountain when Jungwon and Riki join your little group outside. Jungwon, with deep dimples and flushed cheeks, shyly mumbles variations of thank you, and I appreciate that while shifting from one foot to the other. Riki glows with pride, standing up straighter, and asking you what else you liked about his performance. 
The sun feels nice on your arms as you watch the two play a very intense, high-stakes game of rock, paper, scissors for the front seat of Jake’s car. They’re playing best of five and getting ready to begin the third, and possibly final round. Riki has two wins under his belt, it’s not looking good for Jungwon whose breathing has become heavy. He’s taken off his hoodie and is stretching his arms in preparation. 
You start a countdown from three and laugh so hard your stomach starts to hurt when Jungwon throws a losing rock against Riki’s paper, the oldest boy falling to his knees on the pavement and holding his head in his hands. Riki jumps higher than he had on the ice, embracing Jake in a tight hug, overjoyed by the victory while Jungwon groans. 
“Let’s hang out,” Sunghoon says as you walk to his car. 
Squeezing his hand, you nod and try not to melt on the concrete when he opens the car door for you. “What do you normally do after skating?” 
Sunghoon seems to think about your question for a while, tilting his head to the side as a fond smile pulls at the corners of his lips. “My parents would always take me out for dessert after competitions, or the next day if it was too late.” 
“Well, what do you think, Hoon? Is it too late for dessert?” 
Giddy in a way you’ve never seen him, he shakes his head in response. And in his car, he hums along to the radio, gingerly resting his hand on your bare knee. 
Sunghoon takes you to a dessert spot by Chaewon’s house, a fairly popular family-owned establishment that serves her favourite cheesecake. You sink into your seat over the table from him, in a slightly stiff booth with a tall back that makes it seem like it’s just you two and a coffee shop chatter Youtube video playing on a loop. 
“What are you having, baby?” he asks, drumming his fingers against the laminated menu. 
Knowing that Chaewon is coming over later, you let your eyes fall to the ice cream selection, reading the names of all 27 flavours and still settling on the only flavour you ever order here. “Cookie dough,” you say, reaching across the table to point at it on his menu. 
“And?” 
“And nothing.” 
His brows furrow. “You’re only getting ice cream?” 
“I mean, it’ll probably come in a cup, with a spoon,” you say, liking the way Sunghoon laughs at your stupid comment. “Chaewon’s staying over tonight so I don’t wanna fill up too much before dinner. I’ll order some cheesecake to take away when we’re done though, it’s her favourite,” you explain. 
He nods his head. “We can share my tiramisu.” 
It’s only after a conversation with Jake later on that you realise how big of a deal this is.
The two of you only manage to stop chatting and laughing when a girl with a cute bow in her hair and a smile on her face comes to ask if you’re ready to order. Across from you, Sunghoon orders a slice of tiramisu and a 3-scoop cup of coffee-flavoured ice cream. He runs a big hand through his hair and clears his throat, cheeks covered in pink as he asks if it would be okay for us to get a milkshake, to share, so, like, one milkshake, but then with two straws? Her eyes flick between the two of you and she grins, nodding her head but Sunghoon doesn’t go on. 
“A strawberry milkshake, please,” you say, watching the waitress take note of it before saying she’ll be right back. 
More than anyone you’ve ever met, Sunghoon loves tiramisu; he adores it. He lets you take the first spoon, and it’s delicious so you don’t have to fake your reaction when you try it. Sunghoon lights up with childlike excitement as he tries the second spoonful, his eyes widening as he hums around the dessert, shaking his head a little out of genuine enjoyment. 
Surprisingly, he’s able to tell you about the origins of the word (stems from the Italian tira mi su or pick me up), and shares a fond memory of the first time he tried it — he was 9 years old and choked on the cocoa powder on top.  
Sunghoon takes the first sip from the tall glass that sits between you both, you gulp at the sight of his lips wrapping around the straw and need to try it too. Your noses bump a little when you lean in, and, with sweet strawberry coating your tongue, you can’t help but giggle.
As you’d been expecting, your cookie dough ice cream is delicious and after a while, you use your tiny plastic spoon to scrape the sides of your cup and ignore the way Sunghoon laughs at you. Even when he’s mocking you, he still makes your stomach flutter.
“I can get you more if you want,” he offers with a wide smile. 
You shake your head. Sunghoon frowns, watching you collect the last pitiful scrapings before eating them. “You were so pretty today,” you tell him around the spoon.
“Did you think I was ugly before?” 
“Extremely.” His face scrunches up with laughter, showing off his dimple and his fangs. “You must have practised forever,” you add, distracted.
Sunghoon shrugs, reaching his hand across the table to play with your fingers. “In a way I did but not really,” he says vaguely, using his nail to draw a circle in the palm of your hand. “I don’t plan anything for the showcase, it’s just meant for fun, you know? I just go out and do what feels right on the day — so, I guess I’ve been practising for the last 13 years.” 
Completely awestruck, you utter a quiet “wow” and giggle when he pinches your hand. 
“What’re you and Chaewon gonna do later?” he asks, changing the subject.
You let him. At the mention of your best friend, a smile teases at your lips and Sunghoon matches it, beaming sweetly at you, looking forward to what you have to say. “I’m gonna cut her hair.” 
“Really?” Your heart thuds at the genuine interest in his tone. “Do you always cut it for her?”
“No,” you pout. “I’ve never cut anyone’s hair.”
“Not even your own?” Sunghoon laughs when you shake your head. “Wow, she must really trust you.”
It’s your turn to shrug. “We’re best friends.”
“She’s lucky.” 
A chuckle slips out of you and you scrunch your nose. “Me too.” 
When he sees the waitress approaching, Sunghoon stacks your dishes to help out, handing them over to her with a soft smile. “Would we be able to get two slices of cheesecake?” he asks. “To go?”
“Sure, what flavour?”
“Vanilla, please.” 
Eunchae, as you read from her nametag, makes a face, pulling air through her teeth. “The vanilla’s gonna be about an hour wait.” 
Sunghoon pales, looking at you. “That’s alright,” you say, smiling. 
“Is there anything else I can get for you?”
Sunghoon shakes his head, asking only for the bill. The two of you go back and forth on it and you practically beg him to let you pay. You put up a good fight, only backing down because he renders you speechless, shaking his head and saying: I’m not gonna take my girl on a date then make her pay. 
His girl hides her face with her hands, flustered. 
He laughs. 
A beat passes before he stands up, holding a hand out and asking you to go with him to the photo booth. With a smile, you slip your hand into his, allowing him to tug you towards it. Behind the curtain, he wraps his arm around your waist, leaning forward to pay. The two of you agree that you’ll take a set for him to keep and one for you. On the screen, a countdown starts from 4, and you almost feel under pressure. 
Posing for the first picture is a little awkward; you watch as Sunghoon puffs out his cheeks, poking one, and suppress your smile to copy. The second isn’t much better; you both grin and hold up peace signs. As you pose for the third, you can feel Sunghoon’s eyes burning holes in the side of your face, can see him on the screen, staring as you look at yourself ahead but can’t bring yourself to look at him. 
The countdown reaches 2 and he holds you closer. His lips touch your cheek when the screen says 1 and you grin when the picture is taken. Sunghoon’s gaze is soft when you look at him. His hand touches your cheek, heavy on your skin, as he leans in to kiss you. You’ve never been kissed in a photo booth before and your heart beats in the back of your throat when the screen flashes, taking the last photo. 
He sticks his head out of the curtain to collect the 4-cut and cringes a little. “God, we look so stiff in the first two,” he complains. 
“I love them,” you say, taking the photo set from his hand. “They’re perfect.” You mean it. The visible awkwardness that you can feel through the frame is endearing to you, and you like the gradual transition into comfort as the photos progress. 
He looks at you with disbelieving eyes and pays for the next set. 
When you reach your table again, Sunghoon slides into the booth next to you, letting his arm rest over your shoulders, and he’s just as sweet as the tiramisu you tasted on his lips. 
With full bellies and two slices of cheesecake packaged in a pretty yellow box, you head back to his car, where he clips his photo set to the sun visor. You can’t help but lean over the centre console to kiss him again. When you pull away from him, you swear his eyes dart to the backseat, but the moment goes by as quickly as it happens so you must have been imagining things. He drives you home with the radio playing lowly, and his fingers locked with yours. 
On your doorstep, Sunghoon kisses you goodbye, biting at your bottom lip and grabbing your ass. He’s never kissed you like this before. You don’t think you were making things up earlier. “I really like your dress,” he tells you quietly, his lips brushing yours. 
Suddenly nervous, you mumble a thank you. 
“I like everything you wear, but this dress?” Sunghoon pulls away from you, just enough to rake his eyes down your body before holding you close. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, holding your cheek in his palm before kissing you again.  
A few hours later, Chaewon stands on a towel in the bathroom, between you and the mirror while your right hand shakes over a pair of scissors. “Are you sure about this?”
She nods her head. “It doesn’t need to be neat, it just needs to be short,” she assures you, smiling at your reflection in the mirror. Despite only just passing her shoulders, Chaewon’s hair is the longest you think you’ve ever seen it. “I wanted to grow it out, like Kazuha’s, but I hate the way it feels on my skin.” Freshly washed, her hair is just beyond damp and darkening her pink t-shirt. 
You gulp, nervous. “How about you sit down?” 
She nods, saying it’s a good call. 
Chaewon sits on a towel in your bedroom, between you and your full-length mirror while your right hand shakes over a pair of scissors. Before you grab them, you move her hair over her shoulders just so she can tell you once more to give her a chin-length bob. 
She does. You nod. 
Releasing a deep breath you make the first cut, and the sound of the blades slicing through her hair leaves goosebumps forming on your arms. Wet and slightly clumped together, the remaining hair falls from your hold and smacks her ear. You hold your breath as she runs her fingers through it. 
“It’s even!” 
“I only cut one part, Wonie.”
“Yeah, but you did good!” Her eyes meet yours in the mirror and she grins. “Keep going, keep going!” 
The other three sections generate similar reactions, and you keep having to tell her to sit still while you try to trim her hair. 
Chaewon claps her hands when you finish, running her fingers through her “new” bob. “I love it!” she squeals, beaming at your reflection. “It’s perfect.” She turns around on the spot to fling her arms at you, appreciative, wrapping you up in her familiar, soft scent. 
The two of you sit on the couch, as Gossip Girl plays on the TV. For the duration of an entire episode, Chaewon turns her head gently from left to right, her short hair fanning out around her, with a light smile on her face as she does so. You only manage to look away from her when you remember the cheesecake, getting up from your seat abruptly, and excusing yourself. 
As you enter the kitchen, you check your phone, grinning at the sight of a few texts from Sunghoon. You open the fridge as you unlock your phone, clicking on the notification as you take the box of dessert out. Giggles fall out of you at the first message: a cute bed selfie, with his plushy tucked under his arm. 
sh: no way
sh: he smells like you :o
sh: are we seeing each other tmrw? 
sh: (say yes) 
It doesn’t make sense to you that Sunghoon is as cute as he is — you have to put the cheesecake down to relax. 
you: noooooooooo ur so cute
you: i gave him some perfume :o and i’m w wonie tn and tmrw but another time
you: talk later hoonie! 
The sight of the box in your hand makes Chaewon spring out of her seat, covering her mouth with her hands as she does a cute happy dance, prompting you to set the cake down on the coffee table to join her. Tired out, you slump back onto the couch after a while, smiling when she hands over your plate before sitting next to you. 
With a fond smile, you pull your knees to your chest, watching as Chaewon says: You know you love me, xoxo, Gossip Girl, in perfect sync with Kristen Bell. She grins to herself before taking a forkful of cheesecake to her mouth, moaning around the utensil. 
You’ve never known anyone to like dessert as much as her, and a grin forms on its own as you remember the way Sunghoon had done almost the same thing with tiramisu only hours earlier. Being an avid hater of tiramisu, you wonder how Chaewon might react if you told her, before focusing on your slice and the gorgeous face of Leighton Meester. 
The two of you must sit through four episodes, before you sleepily lean into her, telling her she can finish off your piece of cake that she’s been eyeing hungrily since she finished hers approximately 15 Gossip Girl blasts ago. She watches you from the counter while you wash the dishes, thanking you again for the cake. 
Later that night — when she thinks you’re asleep — Chaewon presses a soft kiss to your cheek. “I’ve never had a friend like you before,” she whispers, turning over in bed and grabbing your hand. You don’t know what to do when you hear her sniffling next to you. 
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Salt air and sun cream skate around you — the only things you can smell over the oil soaked chips you share with Chaewon at the beach. Heavy trainers weigh down each corner of the fitted bed sheet underneath you and Chaewon as you watch the wind push clouds through the too-blue sky. Drunk on cider, she laughs to herself, pointing above you. “That one kinda looks like Sunghoon’s friend, right?”
“Which one?” you ask, moving your head to see exactly what she’s pointing at. You’re not sure if you’re asking which friend or which cloud. 
“That one, like Jay.”
Laughter hits you immediately. She’s absolutely right. A triangular mass in the sky leaves you both cackling and rolling around. 
Same as the sand through your fingers, three weeks slip by. You and Sunghoon take more pictures in photo booths and struggle to stop kissing each other. He clasps your necklaces, and puts sunscreen on your back; you hug him from behind and take naps in the park with your head on his chest. Sunghoon makes daisy chains to sit in your hair, and puffy paper stars to fill a jar in your desk. You take his little sister for ice cream and braid her hair when she asks you. 
Tonight however, completely spent from a day of shopping with your mum and Chaewon, the three of you sat on the couch, all eating your bodyweight in cheesecake and crying over the ending of How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days.  
After you’ve all recovered, your mum watches from the car as you hug Chaewon on her doorstep and you fall asleep in the passenger seat on the ride home. No longer small enough to be carried up to your room, you drag your feet to the bed where you fall asleep as soon as your body hits the mattress. But a phone call from Kazuha disrupts your slumber. 
“Are you going to the pool tomorrow?” she asks, sounding alarmingly awake for 4:57 a.m. 
“Tomorrow, today, or tomorrow, tomorrow?” 
“Like,” she pauses, you can picture her running a hand through her hair as she thinks. “In a few hours, I guess.” 
You hum down the phone. 
“We can go together!” The smile in her voice is audible. “Oh, Jay likes YJ. Did I tell you? And fuck, Lee Heeseung is so annoying.” 
“No, he’s not,” you say defensively, slightly rattled by the fact that she woke you up in the middle of the night to shit on your boy’s best friend.
Kazuha scoffs. “Sure.” The line falls quiet for a beat. “He’s not actually annoying, I was just trying to announce that I have a crush on him.” Of course she was. 
“Heeseung seems like a great guy and I’m really happy for you, but let’s talk at the pool, okay?” 
“Talk at the pool!” she chirps, cutting the phone. 
You don’t manage to get back to sleep. 
At the pool, Kazuha says you’re beautiful when you pull your t-shirt over your head and cuts you off before you get to thank her, going on a tangent about how badly she wants to nap but doesn’t want to tan unevenly. Or sleep for too long that her face gets puffy. You take your mission seriously, using your phone to set timers and waking her up each time it goes off despite the way she grumbles at you. 
Riki runs over to tell you to watch him before running away and flipping into the water. Your praise doesn’t seem to get old, but the flips don’t either, each one just as clean and impressive as the ones before. 
Kazuha’s on her 4th rotation when you find yourself wandering over to the concession stand, in the mood for something sweet after being tempted by the scent of baking dough wafting over the pool. But as you get further and further ahead in line, you eventually decide you only want a lollipop, and there are only two people in front of you when you realise you left your phone in your chair and won’t be able to pay.
As if sent from heaven, someone taps you on the shoulder, but you’re met with no one when you look to your left; Sunghoon’s laugh is adorable on the other side of you, contagious when he bumps your hip with his. 
“Hi, baby,” you say, looking up at him. He has a white towel on his head, covering his forehead and tucked behind his ears. “Is there a reason you have this on?” you ask him, touching the damp fabric that sits on his shoulders.  
“What, I’m not allowed to dry my hair?” 
“I’m not allowed to be curious?” 
Sunghoon gently flicks your forehead and you pretend it hurts. 
Like Hannah Montana, he hooks his fingers under the front of the towel, pulling the “wig” off to reveal his luscious (and soaking wet) locks of dark hair. A gasp falls from your lips as your hand flies up to cover your mouth. Having essentially grown up with Sunghoon, or rather, grown up adjacent to Sunghoon, him having black hair isn’t anything new. But it’s definitely something you’re fond of. Fond of him and the way his dark hair only brings out his features, matching his thick brows and the hard lines of his face. 
“Do you like it?” he asks. 
You love it. “What are you gonna do if I don’t?” you ask, pushing some of his hair from his forehead. 
“Buzzcut.” 
With a worried look on his face, he lets you use both hands to cover his hair and imagine it. “Are you laughing because I’m so devastatingly gorgeous with black hair or because I’m about to buzz my head?” Laughter bubbles in your chest, as his hair flops back over his forehead. “Wait, baby, no.” A deep pout settles on his lips. “You actually don’t like it?” 
“I love it, you know I love it.” 
Sunghoon lets you compliment him until you reach the front of the line when he talks with the person on shift. He uses his phone to pay for what you want, and seeing your smiling face on his lock screen makes your cheeks burn while you hide your face in his back, arms locked limply around his waist. 
The two of you only leave the stand when the line behind you builds up, standing in the shade next to it. He watches you unwrap the candy and raises a brow when you hold it out to him. “First lick?”
He shakes his head. 
“Come on, Hoonie,” you tease, letting your hand rest on his arm, liking the way it tenses under your touch. “I know you want a taste.” 
His eyes drop to your chest for a split second, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he lifts his gaze. “You have no idea,” he mumbles before opening his mouth a little, leaning down towards you. His lips are slightly parted and very tempting as they wrap around the lollipop. 
“Good?”
Sunghoon’s eyes lock with yours as he sucks on the candy. “Very,” he says, the word coming out kind of garbled around it before letting you take it back. You watch him chew on his lip, humming to himself at the lingering taste of your lolly. 
The cola flavour hits your tongue immediately and you like the way Sunghoon gulps as he watches you, struggling to maintain the eye contact you’d had a moment earlier. You don’t take nearly as long as he did, pulling the lolly from your lips with a satisfying pop before smiling up at him, sickly sweet. “Very good indeed,” you echo him, letting the candy rest between your lips before you turn to walk away. Sunghoon follows, thankfully. Heading back over to where you’d been sitting, you find Kazuha’s chair empty. 
A shriek over your shoulder locates her like a pin on a map. 
In the pool, you see her sitting on Heeseung’s shoulders cackling as she pushes Sunoo over so hard that Jay, whose shoulders he’s sitting on, falls too. Gleefully, she leans back, falling into the water only to resurface and find her way into Heeseung’s arms. You stop walking when she tilts her head up to kiss him. Oh? Sunghoon walks right into your back. The kiss is short, not much more than a peck really, she pulls away with a grin on her face, swimming to the edge of the pool and Heeseung’s ears turn red as he watches her. 
Against your own, Sunghoon’s skin is warm, slick almost from what you think is a combination of pool water, sweat, and sunscreen. You hate yourself for liking it. His hardening dick presses against you, and your heart swells — some frenzied mix of feeling flattered, and horniness, you assume. A flame burns in your stomach, hot, blue. Neither of you moves for a while, long enough for Kazuha to walk over to your seats and scrunch her hair with a t-shirt. 
Sunghoon exhales shakily when you lean into him, resting the back of your head on his chest and holding the lollipop by the stick. “You okay?” you ask, voice nothing more than a whisper. 
His head dips, breath fanning your neck as he kisses your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles against your skin before standing up straight. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, holding you close. “Do you wanna come over tomorrow?” he asks, words coming out as one. “My family’s on vacation.” His cock twitches against you when he says it. 
“They are?” 
“Mm, they leave tomorrow morning.”
A breathy laugh comes from your nose as you step away from his body, turning around to look at him. Not so subtly, he takes the towel from his shoulder and holds it in his hand, covering himself. A proper laugh falls from your lips, your head tipping back a bit. 
“What if I wanna come today?” you ask, raising a brow. “Tonight even?” 
“Tonight? I can call you if you wanna come tonight.” 
You have a feeling that the two of you are talking about entirely different things.
“Pick me up?” 
“Always.” 
Sunghoon’s bedroom is exceptionally neat. Everything on his desk (his PC set up and a notebook) is placed precisely, and there’s nothing on the floor except for his furniture and a giant 8-ball rug. His off-white walls are completely bare, save for three posters above his desk; your favourite is a handmade (you think) white poster that reads There’s No Planet B in slightly messy block capitals, which sits between blown up pictures of Childish Gambino, and SZA. Underneath the perfectly aligned posters, stuck right above his monitor are the words: Figure skating prince, Park Sunghoon! You’re the best! with a bright red lipstick kiss in the corner; your heart does a triple axel at the sight. 
He stands in the middle of his open doorway like he has been for the past two minutes, watching you admire the medals that sit in a display case on a floating shelf. In 2015 he took home a gold medal from the Lombardia Trophy, and another from the Asian Open Trophy. The two silver medals beside them tell you that he continued to do well at the Asian Open Trophy in the two years that followed.
Along with the Sunghoon you saw today, tiny Sunghoon skates through your mind, so impressive and so young. The quiet boy who often missed class. Who’d fall asleep with his face in a textbook during the classes he did attend. Who you’d let borrow your notes after days of absence, and who wordlessly thanked you with a carton of banana milk each time. How didn’t you know about all of this?  Beyond awestruck by his accomplishments, you look over your shoulder to ask him about it. 
Sunghoon only shrugs. “I was okay.”
“You were okay?” You can’t help but scoff at him. “I’ve seen the videos, Sunghoon. I’ve seen you in person, you’re.. amazing.” The word feels like an understatement. “I don’t know very much about skating but you’re breathtaking.”
“Thank you,” he says, looking at his feet. 
“Have you thought about the Olympics?” you ask seriously. You get ready to apologise when you watch him purse his lips to the side, making you worry you’ve touched a nerve—But Sunghoon speaks before you have the chance. 
“I used to train with the Olympic team but it was too much pressure for me, and I much prefer coaching nowadays, it’s, like, the perfect way for me to feel all the joy of skating and absolutely none of the stress.” The fond smile on his face makes you think he means it.
It almost feels wrong to sit on his neatly made bed but you take a seat on its edge anyway, desperate for one of you to at least look comfortable in this situation. BaMa sits between his pillows and you can’t help but smile at the penguin who stares back at you, unimpressed. Sunghoon stays in place. From where you’re sitting, it’d be difficult to miss the way his eyes widen, stuck on you as he chews on his bottom lip. “Are you okay?” you ask him after a while, starting to feel awkward under his stare. 
For a split second, Sunghoon presses his lips into a straight line that shows his dimple before shrugging. “I’ve never brought a girl to my room before. I don’t know what we’re supposed to do,” he says, fixing his gaze on the wall behind you. 
“The only thing we’re supposed to do is whatever you want. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
Sunghoon looks at you, thinking. “We should kiss,” he blurts out. 
“That’s what you want?”
“Badly.” But he doesn’t move. 
You wait it out a little, counting thirty whole seconds with no sign of movement from him. “How’re you gonna kiss me from over there?” 
A gorgeous grin takes over his face. Sunghoon closes the door behind him, crossing the room in a few paces to sit beside you. With some hesitation he pats his lap, struggling to meet your eyes while he does so. Your insides feel like a shaken bottle of Coke when you straddle him, and you can hear him exhale shakily at the way your dress hitches up, showing off your bare thighs. Sunghoon’s thighs are firm underneath you, his pants soft against your skin. It’s no use trying not to think about riding his thigh or riding him. But try as you might, your efforts don’t stand a chance against the feeling of him hardening under you.
His lips catch yours in a gentle kiss. You can feel the way he smiles, feel a giggle, light, airy, passing from his mouth into yours. It’s hard not to smile too. His fists clench behind you, bunching up the fabric of your dress in his palms desperately. Hard and thick, his cock presses against your core. You moan and Sunghoon all but freezes, his hands releasing your dress.  
Barely a second passes before he grabs you again, leaning back against the bed without breaking the kiss for anything, until you need to catch your breath and you pull away, sitting back in his lap with your hands resting on his toned stomach. You instinctively grind down on him when his cock twitches under you.
From your seat you can see the way his eyes widen when you do, see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat when he gulps. Or maybe the gulp came first; it’s hard to say. Either way, you don’t think you care. He sighs, relieved when you rock your hips against his for a second time. 
Sunghoon looks like sin the third time you do it, groaning and sitting up on his elbows, looking at you through lidded eyes, sighing through pouty lips. “I’m not ready to have sex yet.” 
You freeze in place. “That’s okay.” 
“I’m sorry.” 
“Don’t apologise, there’s nothing to be sorry for. I’m ready when you are.” 
“I just feel bad that you came all the way over here for nothing.”
Looking down at Sunghoon with all of the uncertainty on his face makes your stomach twist. You wish he knew how much you like being with him; like spending time with him. Wish he knew how nice it was to spend the day sitting by the pool and just getting to look at him. How nice it was to eat fruit in the park with him. To talk about nothing on the phone before bed. You rest a hand on his cheek, melting when his fingers wrap around your wrist and his thumb strokes the back of your hand. “Hoon, I’m not here because I wanna have sex with you, I’m here because I like you.” This thing you’ve felt for weeks, lived with and nurtured seems so foreign now that you’ve put it into words. 
The smile on his sweet face almost has you saying it again, and again, if for no other reason than seeing the way his fangs peek out at you, or how his eyes crinkle up into crescents, or hearing how he laughs, breathy, happy.  Sunghoon moves his head to kiss your palm. “I like you,” he says into your skin, mumbling like it’s a secret. “And I like being with you.”  
Even though Sunghoon saying he likes you feels a bit like a toddler telling you they can’t read, the statement shocks you. You knew he liked you, there wasn’t a shadow of a doubt this entire time, but hearing the words, feeling the shape of them against your palm makes his feelings for you seem tangible; so vivid; so thick. Like moisturiser sinking into your pores. 
He moves his head a little so your hand cups his cheek again. He smiles, soft, shy, Sunghoon. “You do.. eventually want that though, right?” The way his brows knit together when he asks is so cute that you can’t help but laugh a little. “Like, to have sex with me,” he adds. 
“Yes, when you’re ready.” 
“I’m ready to do.. other things,” he says, voice dwindling into a shy whisper. 
Curiosity piqued, you arch a brow. “Yeah?” Sunghoon nods. You press on. “Other things like..” 
A beat passes, and Sunghoon doesn’t speak. 
Instead, he opts to pull you down close to his chest, turning the two of you over. My God. His thin silver chain slips out of his shirt, swinging over your face just a bit, his light hair tickles your skin. You think you’d be happy if you died like this. With his bottom lip pinned between his teeth, his eyes scan your face, locking on your parted lips. His fingernail traces shapes on your hip, you immediately notice how blunt it is now compared to yesterday at the pool and can’t help but smile. Sunghoon moves his hand, his fingertips ghosting over your skin until he reaches the top of your panties. 
“Is this okay?” he asks. 
You nod, smiling, eager. You think you might die like this. 
His finger is long and thick, rubbing devastatingly slow circles on your clit through your underwear. Sunghoon puts a little pressure on it, just enough to please you yet still leave you wanting more. He slips a finger into your hole, pressing a kiss to your lips and catching your gasp in his mouth. 
“What got you so wet, baby?” 
There’s something about hearing these words from Sunghoon that makes them sound new, makes them sound fresh; alluring. Makes you want to cum on the spot when you answer. “You did.” Quickly, you learn that the way his lips quirk up into a smile also makes you want to cum on the spot.
You try to focus on the feeling of his tongue on yours, on the loud, wet sound of your lips smacking together, on anything other than how much better one of his fingers feels than two of yours. How much better he fills you up. How quickly he finds your spot and presses on it. A surge of pleasure licks down your spine, causing you to yelp. Kissing becomes hard fast, but if the way he moves his head to your suck lightly at your neck is anything to go by, he doesn’t mind.
He bites and he nips and he kisses the tender skin to soothe you, all while pushing a second finger into you. Time stops at the stretch and you arch your back towards the ceiling. He passes a breathy laugh; calls you cute. Your thighs press together around his hand. 
Leaning up from your skin, he makes a scissor motion with his fingers to work you open, studying the way your eyes screw shut, liking the way you gasp. His head dips back down beside yours, hair tickling your face. You can feel his lips graze your skin, breath fanning your ear. 
“I can’t stop imagining how you might taste,” Sunghoon whispers. “You gonna let me find out?” 
Your dress is bunched up around your waist, and if it wasn’t for all the material, you might have been able to see the trail of spit and love bites that Sunghoon had left on your stomach. You’ll have no choice but to wear one-pieces and full-length shirts for at least a week. There’s a smile on his face as he looks up at you from between your thighs. 
Sunghoon kisses the dark spot on your panties, holding the wet fabric between his lips, tasting you. A quiet moan slips from him, and your body jolts involuntarily, a chill inching up your spine. His fingers hook on the sides of your underwear and he looks up at you, smiling when you nod your head, pulling them down when you lift your hips. With all that material out of the way, he can finally see your pussy, and the word fuck comes tumbling from his lips before he groans. “So pretty, you’re so pretty, YN.”
He buries his face between your thighs to press light kisses to your clit, pecking it sweetly. Your body buzzes from the contact. “Shit,” you sigh at the feeling of him licking a strip from your dripping hole back up to your clit. 
“My God,” he whispers, licking his lips. He presses his tongue against you, lapping up your wetness and humming appreciatively. Sunghoon’s eyes flutter shut when he holds your swollen clit between his lips, sucking on it, licking at it, slowly, passionately, the way he kisses your mouth. His movements make you jolt and he chuckles against you, a delicious vibration running along your cunt.
Unable to fully express how you feel, you settle with saying so good through a whine. A match strikes a flame in your stomach when Sunghoon moves his head down a little, letting his tongue tease your hole, his nose bumps your clit and he moans into you when you clench around the tip of his tongue. You can’t help but grip his hair to hold him in place, hoping he’ll never stop.
Shamelessly, you hump his pretty face as your orgasm quickly approaches, reminding you how long it’s been since you were last eaten out — not that anyone has ever come close to making you feel this good.  
His lips focus on your clit again as he presses a thick finger into your hole, curling it up towards your belly button a few times before adding another. Immediately, your toes curl up, everything flashes white behind your eyelids while your orgasm rips through you and Sunghoon moans when you finish. You’re thankful for the way he slows down, letting your cum slip out onto his lips and chin for a beat before sucking and licking your slit to clean you up, holding you down as you squirm against his sheets from the sensitivity. 
Looking just as spent as you feel, he leans back on his heels. His eyes are blown wide, his chest heaving, and his lips are swollen, glistening in your arousal that’s spread all over the lower part of his face. Spellbound and unblinking, he stares straight ahead at your cunt. 
“Hoon,” you say, breathless, leaning up on your elbows. 
“Yeah, baby?” He doesn’t look away when he speaks. The trance seems to break at your lack of a response and he seems to want to cuddle just as much as you do if the way he scrambles off the floor and crawls over the bed to you is anything to go by.
Save for Sunghoon’s coaching sessions, the two of you are practically joined at the hip for the entire weekend. In the mornings and before bed, you brush your teeth together and don’t even separate to shower, stuffing yourselves in the cubicle to make out and lather shampoo in each other's hair or soap on each other's backs. 
It’s this excess time together that makes waking up to nothing but a note in Sunghoon’s absence so disturbing. His handwriting stirs something in you, the short and sweet: miss you already, please come visit me at work :) 
None of the girls want to go with you, so you find yourself trying on different swimsuits and figuring out what you’ll do at the pool on your own. With four magazines you’ve already read, a book, and your laptop just in case, you make your way there, enjoying the sun on your skin as you walk. 
“Hi!” A chirpy voice makes you flinch when you reach the pool. Sunoo’s whole face is curved into a grin when you look at him. “I’m Sunoo!” he says, extending a hand for you to shake. His grip is firm, not matching his smile at all. “Do you wanna hang out with us?” 
Equal parts excited and scared to say no, you nod. Dumping your bag in a locker, you meet Sunoo out by the changing rooms’ entrance, and he smiles when he sees you. You follow him over to the smaller pool where the rest of the boys are, Sunghoon included, and introduces you. 
The boys look around at one another, wondering if Sunoo knows that all of them have already met you. He doesn’t pay it any mind, jumping in and joining them. They all continue bothering each other while you sit on the edge, dipping your legs into the water. 
Sunghoon, who’s been grinning at you since you arrived, swims over to you and stands in the space between your legs. Cool droplets hit your thighs when he lifts his arms up to wrap around your waist in an embrace that might leave others wondering how many years it’s been since you last saw each other. After promising Jungwon that you won’t make fun of his armbands, you card your fingers through Sunghoon’s wet hair, giggling to yourself when he presses a kiss to your stomach. 
“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” 
“Well, yes,” he says, looking up at you with a pout on his lips. “I’m just on duty at this pool today. Are you unhappy to be spending time with me?” 
“A little.”
Sunghoon pulls you into the water with him. “Even as a joke I don’t like that you said that.” There’s a crease in his brow that you want to kiss away but he’s already calling the boys over when you have the idea. Before you know it, all seven of them are splashing you with so much vigour that you don’t even bother fighting back. Even Riki who’s taken a liking to you shows no mercy.
As much fun as you had, you can’t help but feel a little drained when Sunghoon takes you home at the end of the day. You end up spending the week with him and his friends, and Riki seems crushed when you politely decline his invitation to poker night on Friday but his spirits lift when you say you’ll treat him to ice cream if he wins. On Saturday afternoon when you get out of the shower, you spend the better part of an hour wrapped in your towel texting Sunghoon, grinning at the messages he sent you while you were catching up on the girls’ group chat. 
sh: riki didn’t win anything last night so don’t let him lie to you, ok baby?
sh: plus im kinda mad at him ngl ..
sh: i wanna see u today
sh: only you
sh: need it :( 
sh: if i find out you’re making plans w riki rn i’ll kill him 
sh: babyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy
sh: i miss you can i take you out 
you: why are you beefing a kid ur 500 
sh: you’re older than me ???
you: yes and ur my baby bubu bear 
sh: .. 
sh: picnic baby
sh: ? 
you: yes when
sh: rn.. 
you: uhm..
you: let me go get ready i miss u so bad
Your picnic quickly turns into an evening nap session for Sunghoon who, full on pizza and cider, lays down on his stomach with closed eyes and his cheek on his forearms. Meanwhile, you slowly sip cider from a sun-warmed bottle and pick off bits of pepperoni to eat, knowing Sunghoon will be annoyed about it later. The setting sun shifts the sky through warm oranges and purples, casting its hues over the park and Sunghoon’s sleeping form. 
“Quit watching me,” he mumbles, blinking his eyes open and yawning as he sits back up. Soft hair is all flat on the side he’d been lying on and his lips rest in a pout that, when combined with his eyes resting in a permanent squint, makes him look confused.
You watch with a grin on your face as he sits back on his hands, crossing his legs. “I have something for you, actually.” 
“For me?” you ask, shocked, your brows raise, and butterflies go crazy in your stomach. The thought of Sunghoon seeing something and thinking of you drives you crazy; you’re in way deeper than you could ever have anticipated. 
You hear the bikes whizzing past you, zipping down the cycle path over to your left, you can see the people walking dogs, pushing strollers, jogging, walking. But it still feels like you’re the only people here. The only two people left in the world, sitting on Sunghoon’s blanket in the middle of this park you’ve come to frequent. 
“For you. Do you see anyone else here?” Sunghoon chuckles, though you can see his nervousness peeking through the joy on his face. “Well, kinda for us I guess, to put it properly. You know what? No, it’s dumb. Forget I spoke.” He covers his face with his hands, embarrassed. 
“Something for us?” Even though it’s not a new development, the thought of you both being an us, in any capacity, still makes you giddy, and the butterflies in your stomach are bordering on feral. “Baby, come on. If it’s from you it’s not dumb. I promise I’ll love it.” You nudge his knee gently.
“You promise?” 
“Promise.” Your pinky finds his, linking together for a little while longer than you’d expected. 
“There’s some stuff I have to say first though, is that okay?” he asks, continuing when you nod. “I know you don’t like talking about it, but we should probably have some kind of conversation about what’s going to happen when you go back to uni, you know?” 
The thought of leaving unsettles you; of leaving him, but you’re desperate not to show it. “Yeah,” you say, aiming for calm but hitting upset instead.
Sunghoon chews on his lip before he speaks again. “And you’re happy, right? Like, with me?” 
You nod. Of course, you want to say but the words get caught in your head, how could I not be?
“Good.” Sunghoon smiles. “Because I like you, so much, and I hate the idea of you going back and telling all your friends about the totally awesome, smokin’ hot, mega babe you hooked up with over the summer.” He continues when you nod. “So I’ve been thinking it might be nice if, when your uni friends ask about your summer, and you feel comfortable talking about me, that you tell them about me as your boyfriend.” The uncertainty in his tone doesn’t match the widening grin on his face while speaking, and the word boyfriend comes out as nothing more than a whisper but you hear it clear as day. 
Head spinning, you meet his eyes, a hopeful glint behind them as he watches you. “Do you mean my totally awesome, smokin’ hot, mega babe boyfriend?” 
“It wouldn’t upset me if you said that.” 
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Hold that thought,” he blurts out, opening his backpack. 
Drawing a deep breath, Sunghoon pulls out a pink box with your name written neatly on it before placing it in your lap and asking you to open it. He chews on his lip while he watches. 
WILL YOU BE MY GIRL ? is written on little chocolates that span three rows. The word girl is followed by six empty slots that you can only assume held the word friend. Between the shy look on Sunghoon’s face, and the gesture as a whole your heart leaps jaggedly in your chest. “Will you be my girl?” you read, unable to keep from grinning like a fool.
“I picked them up yesterday before the guys came over, and Riki..” he pauses to sigh, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his neck. “He ate part of them. I think he shared them with Jungwon actually — not that it matters. Anyway, the store’s closed on Sundays so I wasn’t able to replace them or anything, and I didn’t wanna wait any longer to ask,” Sunghoon says in a partial ramble. 
You look down at the pretty pink box in your hands and giggle to yourself. His friends are cute, you think. “I mean, they could’ve eaten the girl part.”
Sunghoon nods his head, grinning. “At least the sentiment still stands.” He eats a raspberry before looking up at you expectantly. “So, will you be my girl?”
With a smile spread on your face, you nod. “Yes, Hoon, I’ll be your girl,” you say, hoping he knows you’ve always been his girl. 
You cuddle in the grass with your boyfriend until the sun goes down, giddy from cider and the joys of summer romance when he walks you to your door. The two of you stand under the light at the doorstep, grinning competitively at one another. Reluctantly, Sunghoon bids you goodnight with a kiss and — just like after your first date — he stands there beaming brightly long after you’ve gone inside. 
A few nights later the two of you have your first sleepover as a couple and Sunghoon seems to take the idea in stride, showing up at your door with an overnight bag stuffed with his skincare, actual pyjamas, and snacks. Plus a bottle of wine he brought for his first meeting with your parents, despite having already had an awkward meeting with your mum at 3 a.m. in the hallway two weeks ago.
With his face glowing under the lamp on your desk, Sunghoon makes a show of bringing up the time he’d talked at length about his friends and says he thinks it only fair that you talk about yours. Your college friends. A blush coats his cheeks when you tell him he doesn’t need an excuse or justification to ask you things he’s curious about. 
This results in him sitting cross-legged on the bed in front of you, asking you silly things like what kind of Youtube videos you like to watch (his ears burn red when you say Park Sunghoon skating compilations), and more serious — to him — things like what your first impression of him was (he covers his face when you say I thought you were the cutest boy I’d ever seen, and it upset me that you missed so much school). 
“Do you think we would’ve dated if I was in school more?” 
“We are dating.” 
“I mean back then.”
“When we were five?” 
Sunghoon nods. 
“Even if we did date back then, we’d have broken up by lunchtime.” 
His jaw drops. “But it’s us,” he says like it’s the simplest thing ever. It takes a while to console your pouting boyfriend but when he moves on he gets back to asking about your friends. 
“They’re like.. the only reason I don’t completely regret picking my major.” The words come out before you can help them. You rarely talk with Sunghoon, or anyone, about your major, never mentioning much more than what results you got or the classes you’re taking if someone asks. 
So it doesn’t surprise you that he sees this as an opportunity to ask you about it. “Why do you hate it so much?” 
“It just makes me unhappy.” You feel your lips sagging at the corners when you finish speaking. “And the thought of working in that field forever, or, at all, makes me feel physically sick.” 
“What are you gonna do after graduation?” 
A tightness occupies your chest. You think about your brother, on the other end of the country, favouring texts over calls so no one has to hear the sadness in his voice when asked about work. You think about the future, all the unknowns awaiting you once you leave the familiarity of the education system. “I don’t.. I don’t know.” You hate how small your voice sounds when you say it.
You don’t even realise that you’re crying until Sunghoon mumbles hey, no, baby, it’s okay, and cups your cheeks with his hands, using his thumbs to wipe your tears. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I’m on your side, okay? You know that. I’m not trying to upset you, baby, just trying to understand. To help.” Wrapping his arms around you, he pulls you into him, letting you cry into his shirt. “If I’m going about it the wrong way you can tell me, I never want to make you cry.” 
For a while the two of you sit in silence while Sunghoon rubs your back and kisses the top of your head, only speaking when you’ve stopped sniffling. “How about you finish telling me about the girls? Minjeong, Jimin, Aeri, and Yizhuo, right?”
You don’t even remember telling him their names, besides maybe mentioning missing Minjeong. “You remember their names.” It’s not a question, not really. When you pull away from him, looking up, your heart snags in your chest at the sight. Of lovely Sunghoon and his small smile, the Kuromi headband holding his hair back. You want to cry again. 
“I remember everything you tell me.” 
Everything about him is lovely, from his soft cheeks to the Piplup pyjama pants he’s wearing and the way he’s looking at you with literal heart eyes. 
Knowing that Sunghoon has his last competition coming up, you savour every second with him. Barely sleeping that night trying to prepare for the lonely nights to come, memorising the feeling of his arms and the steady beat of his heart against your ear. 
His training schedule is rigorous and he’s had to stop his shifts at the pool to accommodate it, committing his days to skating and his nights to you when he can. Though he’s always so tired by the time he gets to your house that he can only sleepily sit through dinner with your parents and falls asleep almost as soon as his head hits the pillow. 
Like most nights you spend apart, Sunghoon’s face fills your screen, talking about what he did that day that kept him from you. Today’s activity was back-to-back coaching sessions, then going to the movies with the boys, and, now, tired out from pretending to be patient, his eyelids are shut for most of the conversation. He looks so warm and cosy under his duvet that you wish you were there with him, or that he was here with you.
“I can come over if you want me to,” he says, and from the way he sits up, you can tell he means it. 
You hadn’t meant for those thoughts to be verbalised.
Looking to your left, at the space in your bed, you don’t trust yourself to be alone with him. Not here. You do want to see him though. Almost desperately. For the good of you both, you shake your head. “Let’s go for a drive?” 
Sunghoon smiles and your stomach turns. “Give me 25 minutes.” He cuts the phone. 
Sitting in the darkness of his car is way worse than having him in your bed. Having started on your knee, his big hand now rests on your thigh, barely an inch away from where your shorts start. A cold sweat breaks out on your skin. Leaning your head against the window, you let your eyes fall shut while Sunghoon sings SZA quietly. Eventually, the car comes to a stop.
“We’re here.” 
It’s too dark out to see anything properly until Sunghoon opens your door for you. “The park,” you say, looking around at the now familiar street. “Wouldn’t be my first choice for a murder.”  
“If you think about it, it’s sorta perfect. Who would hear you screaming for help at 2 a.m. on a Wednesday?”
Sunghoon pulls his backpack and a fleecy blanket from the backseat, and, with a ridiculous grin, you watch him put the blanket down in the grass, not too far from where he’d parked the car. You leave your sandals to the side and sit down next to him. 
“The store was closed, so we’ll have to deal,” he explains, taking out some fruit and two bottles of water. 
You shake your head. “It’s perfect.” 
Sunghoon lets you feed him strawberries, humming appreciatively around your fingers. You take a few sips of water before shifting on the blanket, turning around in the space between Sunghoon’s open legs and leaning back on his chest. He hums the same SZA song from his car and you can’t help but close your eyes. 
You tip your chin to kiss him, accidentally letting your hand rest on his lap. 
Ever since that day in his room, things between you have found a way to turn sexual after a while. Not that either of you seems to mind. Though you will admit that sometimes it is nice to just sit with Sunghoon and watch the sun come up over the hills by his house. Or to watch Mighty Ducks on your laptop with your head on his shoulder. 
Tonight doesn’t seem like one of those “sometimes”, but you really can’t find it in you to complain or want to change anything when he slips his hand down the front of your shorts. More focused on the way your lips feel on his, Sunghoon lazily runs his finger through your slick for a beat before pushing into you and smiling to himself as you gasp against the kiss. 
You pull away from him, shifting around a little, trying to angle yourself so you can see what you’re doing when you tug his waistband out of the way. The sight of Sunghoon’s cock, of his pretty tip coated in precum that dribbles from his slit down his shaft never gets old. If anything, it only turns you on more and more each time. You stroke him slowly, occasionally letting a finger tease the spot below his head, just the way he likes it.
“Oh, my G—” Sunghoon cuts himself off with a groan, pressing his lips to yours again.
The breeze tickles your arms, keeping you cool despite the way your skin burns under his touch. He’s close to cumming, you can tell in the way his cock twitches in your hold.
“I want you,” he mumbles against your lips. 
“You have me.” Sunghoon lifts his head away from yours after you speak, looking down his nose at you. It seems like he’s searching your face for something as he pushes a third finger into your hole. Something clicks in your head, understanding. “Fuck me,” you say, barely short of begging.
His hips buck up into your still hand. “I don’t have a condom.” 
“You’re joking.” 
“No,” he sighs, shaking his head solemnly. “I wish.” A frown teases at your lips. “Why didn’t you bring one?”
You arch a brow. “Why would I bring a condom when we’re waiting to have sex?” 
“Because I don’t wanna wait anymore.” 
“Ok,” you nod, trying to think as he separates his fingers. “Well, this is.. this is me finding that out, right now.”
Sunghoon’s never put a fourth finger in you before; it’s a tight fit. Your head falls back and you give up your poor attempt at continuing to jerk him off. “I don’t care if you don’t. About condoms.” 
“Oh, you’re on the pill?” 
“I ran out two weeks ago, I thought.. you’d give me—” A moan cuts you off. Sunghoon chuckles. “I thought you’d give me notice or something.” 
“Notice?” he asks, voice high, incredulous. A beat passes. “I don’t care,” he says eventually. “I need you.” 
You nod your head, relieved. Whining a little when Sunghoon pulls his hand out of you, and whining a lot when he sucks on each of his fingers, one at a time. “I’ll get Plan B in the morning,” you say, scrambling to your knees, facing him. 
“We’ll go together.” A soft smile spreads across his lips as he holds you by the waist. “And I’ll ask Jake to pray for us.”
Hungrily, you watch as he pulls his white t-shirt over his head. There’s a flash of something in his eyes. Sunghoon has a firm grip on your shorts, barely a second away from yanking them off when he stops, leaning away. “I’ve never..” he trails off, struggling to hold eye contact. “I’ve had sex just not.. outside,” he whispers, his lips pouting through his words.
Despite your desperation, you can’t help but feel like maybe this shouldn’t be the moment you two have sex for the first time. You almost can’t believe yourself, having Sunghoon here, hot, sweaty, with his kiss-plumped lips, and lidded eyes; his groans, and his sighs; his wandering hands and hard cock pressed against you, yet thinking that maybe you should wait a little longer. 
“We don’t have to do this now.” 
“I do.”
“Okay,” you whisper, relieved, pressing your lips onto his. You shiver in Sunghoon’s hold, cold and chasing his kiss when he pulls away, shuddering at the feeling of his fingertip grazing your collarbone. 
“You’re cold, baby.” 
You shake your head. “I’m not.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, your body betrays you and your teeth chatter. 
Sunghoon frowns at you, playing with some of your hair beside your ear. “You have goosebumps, and your teeth are clattering. I’ll take you home, come on,” he says, letting go of you. 
“I have goosebumps because I’m horny, and I want you to fuck me,” you admit, feeling your need for him in every part of your body. “And I don’t want you to be nice about it either, I’m already your girlfriend.” 
You watch him gulp. Sunghoon’s eyes scan your face. He leans into your touch when you let your palm cup his cheek, his skin is burning hot, if it was any lighter outside you might have been able to see the pink on his face. He wraps his thick fingers around your wrist, letting his thumb stroke the back of your hand, and his pretty eyes find yours. 
“I want to, so bad, but you’re freezing.” He kisses your palm. “How about I take you home and fuck you there, hmm? I won’t be nice, I promise.” 
Oh, God, you think, clenching around nothing. 
Dazed, you almost agree until something clicks. “Take this off,” you say, practically begging as you tug at his knitted hoodie. His brows knit together. “Let me wear it.” Without hesitation, Sunghoon pulls the jumper over his head and slips it over you. “Please, Hoon,” you all but beg, as you put your arms through it. 
The two of you are close enough that you can see his pupils dilating as his eyes trail over your body. “I like my clothes on you.” Is the only thing he says before kissing you again.
Sunghoon’s hands are all over you, eventually settling on the top of your shorts, as he does his best to tug them off. You raise your hips to help him out before settling back into his lap, whining at the feeling of him under you, touching your pussy for the first time. He throbs against you when you grind down on him.
It all seems so real now. He’s so big; so hard, that you start to worry. Suddenly you remember the ache in your jaw every time you suck him off and how much of him is left over, even when his head inches its way down your throat.
Flustered, you start to stall a little, rocking back and forth on his length, coating him in your wetness. You take him in your hand after a while, jerking him a little to spread his precum and your slick all over him. He doesn’t seem to notice that you’re whiling up time, and if he does, then he doesn’t seem to care, simply moaning when you lift yourself off of him to stroke your clit with his tip and tease your slit. 
Sunghoon’s teeth worry his bottom lip as you try to take him, his head falling forward, eyes trained on the spot between your bodies where you connect. His hold on your waist is so firm you can practically feel bruises forming under his fingertips and the sting of his cock pushing into you makes you draw a breath. “Just take your time, yeah?” he mumbles. “No rush.” 
No rush? you think, he must be crazy. You don’t think you can wait any longer, trying hard to sink down on him despite the pain of the stretch. You like it, that sting, the heat, you don’t want to go without it ever again. You must be crazy. Fuck, and Sunghoon are the only things you can bring yourself to say.
“I know, baby. I’m sorry,” he tells you. “It’s okay,” he says, though he doesn’t look like he’s doing any better than you are. 
Sunghoon’s head falls forward once you’ve taken all of him, his teeth sinking into the skin at the base of your neck as he lets out a broken whine. Everything feels a little too much to bear. It’s so hot, when did it get so hot? With the last few crumbs of your brain power, you tell yourself to take the hoodie off, but you feel like you can’t move. 
He fits so well, fills you up just right. 
With a shaky breath, he lifts his head to look up at you. “So beautiful.” Sunghoon pushes some of your hair from your face. “Good girl,” he coos, using his thumb to wipe tears you hadn’t even realised were there. “You’re doing such a good job, baby. Taking me so good.”
Sunghoon asks if you’re okay. It sounds like Sunghoon asks if you’re okay.
Your fist balls around the fabric of his cotton shirt. “Warm,” you whisper. “Too warm.” He loosens his grip around your waist, moving his hands to your hips to pull the hoodie off of you. You lean back a little to let him take it off and feel as if you’re being split open, the angle only pushing him deeper. 
With the hoodie off, the cool summer breeze makes you feel a lot better; makes taking him a lot more manageable. So you move. His pretty face scrunches with pleasure, as a long, heady groan comes from his throat. “You feel so good. So tight.” There’s something in his voice that you don’t recognise, desperation, need. Sweat beads along his hairline, the flush in his cheeks so prominent you can see it despite the dark. 
You want to see him like this all the time. Need to.
His hips buck up towards you, seeming to catch you both off guard if the way you gasp simultaneously is anything to go by. He wraps his arm around your waist, his trembling hand beating against your skin, and lets his other hand rest on the blanket behind him, leaning back on it. 
“You’re so good at this,” you sigh. “How are you so good at this?” You practically clamp your mouth shut, not letting yourself say any more lest you propose to him, or worse, expose your breeding kink.
Sunghoon only gives you a languid smile before kissing you. 
It’s more than a little hard to focus on coordinating the movement of your lips and tongue when he’s fucking you the way he is; lifting you off of him so only his tip stays inside, then thrusting all the way back in, deep and slow, trying to feel every single part of you and doing a good job hitting that spot that has you seeing stars. So the kiss is messy and loud, an exchange of spit and moans but you’re way too turned on to care. 
Before long, he uses his hand to pull down the front of your vest, attaching his wet mouth to your nipple instead and your brain short circuits. He moans into your skin when you clench around him, his body stuttering under you.
“Baby, I don’t..” Sunghoon sighs, lifting his head from your chest to look at you. He’s the picture of desire, of lust, with his messy hair and parted lips, the sweat slipping from his brow bone. “I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer,” he admits, thick brows pulled into a furrow.
At this rate, you don’t think you will either. His words only make you dizzy, they spur you on as desperation sets in; to see him cum, to feel it. Like always, his sounds are just as pretty as the rest of him, his grunts and his groans, and the ragged breaths that catch in his throat. And you quiver in his lap at the feeling of a knot forming in your stomach, immediately unravelling when his finger catches your clit again. 
Your head falls back. “I’m—” Is the only thing you can say.
“I know, baby, don’t hold back. I wanna see you make a mess.” 
His words send you over the edge, forcing your orgasm out of you while Sunghoon moans and fucks you through it. So good, baby, he mumbles over and over, stuttering through the words when you cum, though you barely hear him over the sound of his cock squelching up into you. 
A shaky breath and the word fuck tumbles from his lips. 
Sunghoon’s thighs tense and his stomach does the same. Shuddering under you, he cums hard, filling you up completely. You’ve never had a guy cum inside before, let alone been fucked without a condom, so you weren’t sure what to expect. But nothing could have prepared you for this. 
Heat courses through you everywhere, and you’ve never been so warm in your life. You can feel every last drop of his hot cum spilling into you, can feel it leaking out around him, slicking up your thighs. Shaking in Sunghoon’s lap, you’re full in the best way, eyes rolling back as your mind goes completely blank. 
Both of you try to catch your breath as he holds onto you tightly, his arms hugging around your waist. You’re having a hard time calming down with him still inside, but you don’t think you could move if you tried, and it seems as though he feels the same, only being able to bring his head away from your chest. With heaving shoulders and a dazed look in his eyes, he smiles up at you, sweet, contagious. Drunk on him, a laugh starts to bubble in your throat, forcing its way out. Sunghoon laughs too, and breathy chuckles slip from you both, happy, delighted. 
He reaches for some napkins, cleaning up what he can with you still in his lap before reaching for his hoodie. You watch as he folds it up a couple of times before putting it down near the blanket’s edge, shifting over a bit to hold you in his arms and lay you down, the hoodie under your head like a pillow. 
You think he must be an angel. 
Gently, he separates your legs to clean you up properly before pulling his boxers and shorts back up. You watch as he looks around the space for something, returning to your feet to help you put your underwear and shorts back on, sniffling a little and making his way to lie down on the grass beside you. Sunghoon reaches over your body and uses the remaining blanket behind you to cover you up. 
Sleepily, you rest your head on his chest, feeling his heart race against your cheek. “You’re so big, Hoon,” you whisper, mind still reeling. 
A beat passes. “Ok, baby, thank you,” he says a little awkwardly, you can feel his chest stutter as he chuckles and you can’t help but smile.
The stars above you beam brightly and you don’t think you’ve ever seen so many at once, peeking through the few dark clouds that drag lazily through the sky.
“You did so well tonight, YN,” Sunghoon tells you after a while. “You always do so well.” Your heart beats in your throat as he kisses the top of your head.
“Really?” 
“Mm,” he hums.
Curious, you look up at him. “What did I do well?” 
“Should I fill out a performance review?” 
“I just wanna know what you’re gonna tell your friends later.” Your heart rate picks up when Sunghoon laughs, sweet, contagious. “I’m serious.”
Into the air above, he huffs a long, dramatic sigh. “You really wanna know?”
“Desperately.”
He leans up on his elbow, looking down at you. Butterflies flutter in your stomach, already nervous about what Sunghoon might say. It’s as if he’s the only person in the world, the only one that makes a difference. You can’t help but feel special under his gaze, grateful that you’re the one who gets his attention. His hand is big on the side of your face, his thumb grazes your cheek. 
Sunghoon opens his mouth but closes it before speaking, then brilliant, bright, he smiles. “I think I’m gonna tell them I’m in love with you.” Your breath hitches in your throat. “And, ask Jake to pray for us.” 
And, ask Jake to pray for us, you repeat as if bound by a spell and he nods his head. Overwhelmed, you hide your face in his shirt. “I love you.” 
Back at your place, Sunghoon does a good job of living up to what he’d promised you earlier. Leaving you to wake up that morning in his t-shirt, with your head on his chest and a dull ache between your thighs — though not before, for the first time since primary school, you (and Sunghoon) kneeled by the side of the bed to perform the sign of the cross. He’d stumbled his way through a prayer first and you followed, watching as he sent a text to Jake before eventually drifting off to sleep, tired and sore.
The duvet is bunched at the bottom of the bed, leaving your bare thighs victim to the light breeze rolling through your room. Sunghoon’s mouth is slightly ajar and he snores sweetly. Even in his sleep, his stomach is tight and his soft penis rests cute and limp against his thigh in a way that leaves you stifling a giggle. You want to kiss it. 
Regrettably, you don’t.
“Stop looking at me,” he mumbles, half-heartedly lifting his arm to cover your eyes, though, with his still shut, it ends up resting on your neck.
“I’m not.” 
Sunghoon pries open one of his eyes, catching you. He follows your gaze down his body, groaning when he realises what you’re looking at. “You’re worse than I thought,” he says, sitting up to pull your duvet back over himself, resting over his waist. “I’m never sleeping naked next to you again.” 
You open your mouth to quiz him but he covers your lips with his hand. “Or anyone else, relax.” 
“Good boy,” you mumble, the words muffled against his palm. 
“Ew,” he whispers when you lick his hand, wiping it on your t-shirt before pushing some of your hair away from your face. “How are you feeling, baby?” His voice is soft when he asks, eyes scanning your face for even the slightest sign of discomfort.
“I’m kinda sore, but I’m good.” 
“You are?” There’s pride in his voice when he asks, eyes lighting up for a beat before pressing his lips together, trying to hide a smile. His broad shoulders betray him, trembling with silent laughter. Fuck off, you mumble, just as amused as him. 
Sunghoon clears his throat. “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers. “I’ll be gentle next time, promise.” 
Next time. The simple words and all of their hopefulness leave your mind reeling. Laying next to Sunghoon, you grin at the thought of all of your next times with him. Through the seasons of the year; through autumn; through winter, spring, and back to summer again. 
“What’s on your mind?” he asks through a yawn. 
You love him. “I love you.” 
You’re expecting him to kiss you when he starts to lean in, but he pulls you tight against his chest instead. He smells faintly like sweat when he hugs you. Like sweat, and sunblock, and peonies. Like kisses during sunset, and late-night swims. Like the happiest you’ve been in a long, long while. 
“I love you, more.”
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© zreamy (2023), all rights reserved. do not repost, translate, or plagiarise my work. do let my know your thoughts !
permanent taglist: @asahicore
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discordantwritings · 22 days
Text
Cleaning Up (Crocodile x Reader)
Warnings: NSFW 18+ MDNI, fem afab! Reader, virgin! Reader, Crocodile’s your boss, fingering, PiV sex, inappropriate use of Crocodile’s hook, belly bulge, slight overstimulation
WC: 3.6k
Summary: You’re Sir Crocodile’s maid and, if you’re honest, your uniform is an offense to feminism. Luckily you don’t really see your boss or anyone else while you work so there’s nothing to worry about.
Until you see him.
And then you start having things to worry about- mostly how attracted you are to your boss.
Notes: what can I say. Horny brain won
Tagging: @keiva1000
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In the handful of weeks you’ve been Sir Crocodile’s personal maid you’ve grown to like your job. You were terrified on your first few days but quickly you found out that there was little reason to be scared. You were rarely ever in the same space as Crocodile- you worked mostly during the day while he was attending to his work- and you did your job throughly so he never had any notes for you beyond which drinks to stock up for him. Not to mention even the slight unpleasantness of how much sand you have to clean up is easily overridden by the generous pay you receive. And what you were initially the most uncomfortable with you’ve grown to like- that being the uniform.
It’s… short. And low. And so painfully stereotypical. The textbook definition of an impractical sexy maid’s outfit. For the first week you spent more time trying to make the skirt cover your ass then you spent cleaning. But when you realized there was rarely anyone in the house while you were working you quickly cared a lot less. There was something nice about putting on an outfit you didn’t have to think about picking out, and honestly there wasn’t any work so hard that you needed the coverage of pants for safety, so you developed a good relationship with the skimpy black and white number.
Maybe you did think you were a little sexy in it.
Of course, there was no one at work to see you and certainly no one at home, but it was nice to feel good about yourself. If no one else was going to objectify you, goddamn it, you were. Your boobs did look nice in the low square cut top. Your ass was cute when in peaked out from under that stupid tiny skirt.
It made coming to work each day slightly less boring. Your job was, admittedly, monotonous as you worked through your cleaning schedule. Today was an office cleaning day though- a nice break from the mopping day before. You collected all your cleaning supplies, pushed the big doors to Sir Crocodile’s office open, and nearly jumped out of your skin.
Crocodile was sitting behind his desk, leaning back as he read a newspaper. He folded down the edge of the paper as you came in, looking you up and down as you stared like a deer in the headlights, carefully constructed day flying away from you.
“I’m so sorry sir I didn’t know you would be in today-“ You had only seen him twice before this- once when he interviewed you and then another when he gave you a tour of his home. Never during work hours and certainly never in your uniform. “I’ll clean other places I’m sorry to disturb you.”
“No, it’s fine.” He says dismissively and that’s all as he unfolds the paper again to continue reading.
Okay. Time to do your job then. And try not to focus on how damn short your skirt is. It’s fine.
And really, it was. You went about your normal work and it seemed like Crocodile went about his. He looked at you from time to time but you got the feeling his was more looking at the quality of your work as opposed to your figure. Thank god you were good at your job.
After an hour or so you were done and loaded all of your supplies back onto your cart to move onto the next room. But, since he was here-
“I’m all done here unless there is something else you’d like done?” You ask politely, wanting to appease him.
“Hm…” He sits up in his chair and looks you up and down. “Who gave you that uniform?”
“Um… one of your officers sir, he had an interesting makeup style?”
“Ah. Bon Clay.” He huffs. “Well, at least your boyfriend can get some enjoyment out of this.”
“I’m not-“ This conversation has not gone anywhere near what you were expecting. “No boyfriend or anyone sir.”
“Really…” He looks you up and down again and suddenly you feel heat from his gaze. “Interesting. Well, there’s nothing else I need today, continue on.”
And just like that you were dismissed. You nod your head a silently hurry out of the room, grateful you didn’t have to continue facing down his hardened stare. It was frightening… but there was a twist in your gut that certainly wasn’t fear.
Arousal.
It followed you through the rest of your shift, his piercing grey eyes in the back of your mind as you swept and dusted. The heat from his gaze still lingered on your skin as you crawled into bed later that night. The few words he did say to you left questions for your mind to run rampant with.
But he was your boss and a terrifying pirate so you needed to shove all those thoughts and lock them away where they couldn’t be found. You could ignore how wet you’d gotten just from thinking about him looking at you.
You probably weren’t going to see him for a while so you had plenty of time to cool off and get a rational head about all this. This fleeting, lewd fantasy would be over before you knew it.
That is, of course, until he’s home the next day too.
This time he’s in the dining room, enjoying a cup of coffee and a book when you round the corner. You aren’t as startled this time, but all those lustful thoughts came crawling back into your head.
“Good afternoon sir.” You say, hoping your voice hasn’t betrayed you.
“Afternoon.” He says, only glancing up from the page when you speak.
It’s probably better this way, the less words he speaks the less of that low tone the less you have to latch onto. You sweep the floor first before moving to clean the long hardwood dining room table. At first you only clean 3/4ths of it, avoiding Crocodile’s space. But when you go to put your rags away Crocodile stops you.
“Oh, don’t let me get in your way.” He pushes himself back in his chair, taking his coffee cup with him as he sits about a foot from the table now.
“Thank you.” You go to star cleaning from the side of the table but a small tut from Crocodile stops you.
“Wouldn’t right here be a better angle?” He gestures casually with his hook to the small space between him and the table. Your brain is slow in processing what he’s saying and he simply leans back with a shrug. “But what do I know about cleaning.”
You’re not entirely convinced you’re not dreaming as you walk closer to him and turn so your back is facing him when you put yourself in between him and the table. You hear your heartbeat in your ears as you first clean off the table right in front of you, taking your time so you can work up the courage for your next action.
Slowly you lean over the table, pushing yourself up on your tip toes to get your whole torso onto the hardwood surface. You know your ass is fully on display for Crocodile, your black panties probably not doing much to hide the folds of your pussy. Behind you, you hear Crocodile suck in a breath.
“Just like that…” He murmurs and you aren’t sure but you swear you feel the fabric of your skirt move up slightly.
You take your precious time cleaning off the last bit of the table, making sure to shift your hips much more often than necessary as you keep yourself pushed up. There’s no way he isn’t staring at you the whole time, and you try not to have a giant smile on your face when you slowly stand up again and turn around. You’re still situated in that small space, your legs between his spread knees.
“Is there anything else you need sir?” You look into his eyes, using every ounce of your willpower to not look down and see if he’s hard or not.
His golden hook plays with the edges of your skirt as he looks at it thoughtfully. “I thought this thing was a little much at first, but I think I’ve come around to it.”
“It’s grown on me as well.” The attention has you flushed and your heart beating out of your chest.
“You look like you want to run.” He grins up at you and you have to grip the table behind you to keep yourself steady.
“No sir.”
“Then why are you so flushed?”
He’s playing with you. Like a cat toying with a bird before it kills it. There’s something so intoxicating about being prey.
“I guess I’m not used to attention like this sir.” You answer honestly.
“How can that be?” His flesh hand comes up and grazes along the outside of your thigh. “Pretty little thing like yourself…”
“I’m not sure. Maybe I keep too much to myself.” His touch is featherlight as he leaves goosebumps in his wake.
“No partner now… certainly there have been partners before?” His grey eyes are intense as they lock with yours and the implications of his question aren’t lost on you.
“No. No partners before.” You admit, growing more breathless by the second.
His grin shifts slightly into something that would be frightening if you weren’t dizzy with arousal. His coffee cup gets placed back on the table, long forgotten by now.
“What an absolute shame.” There’s no hint of sadness in his voice. “Poor little thing like yourself all alone late at night.”
His hand drifts under your skirt and around to your ass, palming the flesh there. “I bet you make do though.”
That was the thing though- you really didn’t. Not for lack of trying, certainly not, but every time you touched yourself you’d never been able to climax. You get in your own head and your thoughts run rampant and you can only focus on how your fingers don’t actually reach anywhere good or how you can never keep up the right pressure on your clit to push you over the edge. Something always slips at the last minute and drags you out and away from your orgasm. You enjoy the ride there, at least, but never quite get over the hill.
You take too long to respond but that in itself tells Crocodile his answer. The grip on your ass turns bruising and you bite back a moan. You watch as his tongue runs over his teeth and he’s about to say something when-
“Sir.” A voice sounds from behind you and embarrassment shoots up through your system.
“What?” Crocodile’s voice is sharp and mean as he glares past you at whoever is interrupting.
“There’s been Marine movement counter to what our intelligence has told us-“
“How bad?” Crocodile cuts him off and you look and see Crocodile’s hook slowly crushing into the table next to you.
“Bad.”
“Fuck.” His hook full imbeds in the table with a slam and you can’t help but jump. “I’ll be there in a second. Go!”
You hear hurried footsteps leaving the room and there’s a heavy pause as you both collect yourselves. You hear the sound of splintered wood as he pulls his hook out of the table and stands up, towering over you.
“Don’t worry about the table.” His hand slowly leaves you and you bite back a whine. “Do you think you could stay late today? My bedroom is a mess and could use your attention.”
You nod furiously but he tuts.
“Use your words sweetheart.”
“Yes sir.” You manage and are rewarded with the surprisingly soft brush of his fingers on your cheek.
“That’s my girl.”
And with that he leaves you, breathless and gripping the broken table. You take a deep breath and calm yourself down so you can finish your work for the day.
Once you figure out how to make your legs work again.
You clean just about every square inch of the house you have access to before slipping into Crocodile’s bedroom as the sun went down. Of course, there was absolutely nothing to clean in his room- honestly you weren’t confident he even slept in here with how pristine it was.
You smile as you get a devious thought, walking over to the neatly made bed. You slip your panties off before sitting on the edge of the bed and then nicely lay them out next to you. Now to wait.
And wait.
And wait some more.
You’re half asleep by the time the bedroom door startles you awake. You shoot upright and try to look poised but you quickly realize he probably doesn’t care.
He looks tired and aggravated. His eyebrows furrowed as he slams the door behind him and for a second you think you’re going to be asked to leave- that is until he sees you. His shoulders visibly relax as he stalks over to you, looking you up and down.
“Sorry I had to keep you waiting I-“ He stops in his tracks as he sees your panties sitting next to you on the bed. That predatory grin from earlier sneaks back on his face. His hook picks up the black fabric and holds it out in front of both of you.
“What’s this?” He asks, looking down at you.
“I-“ All the courage you had worked up earlier fizzled out by now, embarrassment raking over your body as you avoided his gaze. “Just wanted to be ready for you.”
“So here you were on my bed- bare, alone- what a cruel man I am. Fuck if I had known-“ His body towers over you and you lean back, arms straight behind you supporting you on the bed.
“You’re here now.” You still can’t quite meet his eyes but hearing all the need in his voice has your confidence slowly creeping back.
“Yes.” His hand comes up and his thumb rubs your cheek as he gently moves your face so you’re looking in his eyes. “Back to the headboard and spread your legs for me.”
You quickly push yourself back until you hit the headboard and let your legs lay open, earning you an appreciative hum from Crocodile. He walks around the bed before sitting next to you, hand grazing up your thigh. Leaning in he nudges your jaw with his nose and you tilt your head, letting him have full access to your neck. Teeth graze along your jugular as he pushes your skirt fully up.
“You might have ruined my sheets already, you’re absolutely dripping…” You whine as his large fingers push apart your folds.
He bites down right as he pushes a finger inside you, pain and pleasure mixing as you writhe against the bed. His finger pumps slowly in and out as he licks over the bite he just made. A second finger slips easily inside you while his thumb rubs against your clit.
“How do my fingers feel? Hm?” He whispers as he nips at your earlobe.
“Feels so good sir- I’m-“ You press your head back into the headboard as you feel the coil tightening inside you.
This is always where you get in your own way and you feel that self scrutiny rearing its head. Suddenly you’re worried about how you look, how you sound, how your inexperience is going to eventually ruin the night. You’re quickly sliding away from your orgasm and Crocodile catches on fast.
“Hey.” His hook goes under your chin and directs your face to his. “Focus here.”
His lips are on yours and his body leans in, pressing you down further into the bed. The kiss is so consuming you don’t notice this hook leave your chin until it’s slicing clean down the middle of your top and bra. Fabric falls away and your yelp at the action is easily swallowed by Crocodile. He doesn’t give you a moment to breathe as the cold metal of his hook drags against one of your nipples.
“I guess I’m not too upset you won’t cum on my fingers.” His voice is husky as he pulls away, hand quickly shoving his pants down. “Your first orgasm should be on my cock anyways.”
Your head is swimming at his words and as he pulls his cock out you realize you’re in over your head. He’s big- too big you’re afraid. Crocodile must see the gears turning in your head and he chuckles.
“Oh don’t worry darling- it’ll fit.” He moves back over you, caging you in with his large body.
He drags his tip through your folds, teasing you as he presses kisses along your neck and collarbone. The gold of his hook drags down between your breasts, somehow still cold despite its constant presence on your body. His tip presses into you and you already feel the stretch and you hands fly to his back and shoulders to anchor yourself.
“Shhhh- just relax baby-“ He pushes in slowly but relentlessly and it’s hard to follow his instructions when you feel like you’re getting split in half.
As your nails dig into the skin of his back he leans down and takes one of your breasts into his mouth, his tongue swirling around your nipple as his hook presses into your other nipple. There’s nothing you can do but take what you’re being given, letting the painful yet pleasurable sensations overwhelm you until finally- finally- your brain empties of all thoughts.
“That’s it- such a good girl for me-“ You don’t miss how breathless he is, forehead pressed to your collarbone as he pushes his last few inches into you. “So fucking tight-“
One of your hands moves up and tangles in his black hair. “Please- need-“
“Hm? Need more already?” He starts to move his hips, pace still slow as you still struggle to accommodate his girth. “I knew you were going to be such a good little whore for me.”
He sits up and pulls your thighs up further around his waist, shifting his angle and making you see stars. You feel his hand pressing against your stomach and when you look down you can see the slight budge of his tip pressing up through the skin. It’s enough to make you dizzy.
“You see that don’t you?” He picks up his pace, hand moving down to hold your hips in place. “You’re taking me so well- I’m going to fucking ruin you for anyone else. Do you think anyone else could possibly fuck you like this? Huh?”
“No- fuck- I’m-“ You claw at whatever skin of his you can reach as you feel your orgasm rushing up on you and for once you’re not afraid it’s going to creep away.
“That’s right baby- cum all over my cock. I know you can do it.” His pace is brutal and his hand moves from your hip so his thumb can circle your clit and just like that you’re gone.
White hot pleasure rakes down your spine as you come undone on his cock, the release nearly making you cry. Crocodile has moved to press kisses against your neck again, slowly moving back up to your lips as he rocks into you at a slowed pace. The kiss is less intense than before but no less intimate.
“Think you can give me another one?” He asks, breathe fanning over your face.
“I don’t-“ You’re quickly cut off by him flipping you onto your stomach.
You feel his hand press down against the space between your shoulder blades as the outer curve of his hook presses your hips up. Despite his slowed pace the pleasure is still the same- body still reeling from your last orgasm.
“I can’t help being a greedy man.” He grunts out, the sound of his hips hitting your ass filling the room.
You hold onto the sheets for dear life as you do your best to keep your ass in the air as he fucks you into the mattress. The bed does little to muffle your debauched moans and whines as his cock hits spots you didn’t know existed.
“C’mon baby be a good girl for me- milk my cock-“ His thrusts are rougher now and you have no choice but to obey his command.
You cry out into the bed as you cum, only just able to hear Crocodile groan behind you as you feel the sudden loss of his length inside you. Not a second later you feel warm ropes of cum hit you ass.
“Hold still for me for just a bit more baby-“ Crocodile is breathless as you feel his hand grab at your asscheek, fingers smearing his cum into you skin. “Fuck you look so beautiful all gaping for me- next time I’m going to fill you up, you’d like that wouldn’t you?”
You can only offer a weak moan, completely worn out as you focus all your energy on not fully collapsing onto the bed. Of course the thought was wonderful, but you’re not sure when your body would recover from this.
“Alright love, you can relax.” At his words you melt, body falling into the bed as the haze of exhaustion washes over you.
You feel Crocodile’s weight leave the bed but he’s only gone for a minute. He returns with a glass of water and a damp cloth, cleaning you off with a surprising softness.
“I don’t think I can walk let alone make it home.” You admit after you take a drink of water.
“Did you really think I’d let you go home after that? Darling, you never have to leave again if you don’t want to.” Crocodile joins you on the bed again, hook sitting on his bedside table.
As he pulls you into his chest, chin resting on top of your head, you don’t think that’s such a bad idea.
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twdbegins · 4 months
Text
Floral Sheets
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Daryl Dixon x Fem! Reader Tags: Fluff. Word Count: 2.1k "Not ready for tomorrow yet."
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The sun had set over Alexandria long ago.
The hues of orange and purple had faded with the falling sun and transformed the sky into a canvas of inky black, speckled with twinkling stars -- a perfect end to an otherwise arduous day.
Alexandria was thriving, and everyone in it was better than they had been in years...possibly since the apocalypse had begun.
Once a quiet suburban neighborhood, it had become a safe haven for Rick and his fellow survivors in a world full of the living dead. Alexandria was more than another camp...it was a symbol of human resilience and a testament to their will to survive.
There was a consistent supply of food, shelter, water, and (most importantly) safety. It was the safest and the healthiest that Rick and his group had been in a long time.
Alexandria had blossomed into a perfect sanctuary, and everyone was grateful for it. But such a thriving community required intense and constant work to keep it to that standard. Keeping track of weapons, supplies, and all the basic resources was vitally important. When certain supplies were to the point of restocking, Daryl was almost always the errand boy.
He could handle himself better than anyone in Alexandria. He worked well alone, and he could get himself out of a dangerous situation if he found himself in a pinch.
Daryl knew that he had a long day ahead of him from the moment his feet hit the floor early that morning. He had several stops to make on his journey outside of the walls of Alexandria, and a few of those stops were quite out of the way.
Not to mention, the blazing heat of summer was nearly blistering during the day, and even during the night hours, it wasn't much cooler. It was so humid that sometimes it made the air so thick that it felt like breathing soup.
Daryl was used to the heat, and while it didn't bother him all that much -- it still made a long, tiring day even longer and more exhausting.
And the moment that he stepped through the door late that night, he felt a sense of relief crash over him. It was significantly cooler inside your house, and he was so glad to be out of the heat and at home.
He had three things on his mind when he entered your home: food, a shower, and you.
If he could have it his way, he would've liked those things in reverse order -- but he couldn't bring himself to wake you just for a shower you didn't need, and he doubted you wanted to be disturbed just to sit with him while he horked down whatever he could scrounge up for dinner. And he knew you definitely wouldn't want him crawling into bed without eating or showering.
His boots thudded softly against the wooden floor, his steps heavy and not as quiet as he wanted them to be. He knew that you would be long asleep by now, and he wanted to do his best to keep you sleeping peacefully.
He made a beeline for the kitchen, his stomach grumbling and growling with the simple request to be fed. He smacked himself for not snatching a can of something for himself when he was unloading the goodies he had picked up that day, but when he opened the refrigerator -- he realized that he didn't need it.
Right there, sitting perfectly wrapped on the center of the top shelf, was a plate of that night's leftovers that he knew you had saved just for him.
He didn't even need to see what the leftovers were to know that he was about to scarf down every last morsel on that plate. He didn't even bother heating it up because eating it cold didn't make a difference to him in the slightest.
He rinsed his plate (a habit that he only came to have after living with you full time) and left it in the sink to be washed in the morning before moving on to his next step.
He opted to use the shower on the opposite side of the house, knowing that using the one connected to the bedroom would surely end up with you waking up to the sound of him clambering around.
He was caked in dirt, sweat, and who knows what else. He felt five pounds heavier just with whatever was sitting on his skin and clothes. Daryl didn't mind getting dirty and staying dirty, but tonight it was actually bothering him a bit.
Needless to say, a shower was needed.
It was well appreciated nonetheless, and the stream of water felt incredible on his tired muscles that were in need of rest. He took his time though, maneuvering around the tiny guest bathroom shower and scrubbing his body until his natural skin tone wasn't obstructed by muck and grime.
He lathered soap on his face, ears, and neck thoroughly, watching the evidence of the long day wash along the shower floor and down the drain to never be seen again. He rubbed his eyes, feeling his eyelids grow heavier by the minute.
The fatigue was setting in fast. Between his fed belly and the relaxation of home, several hours of sleep were calling his name...and no matter what anybody said, Daryl had made the decision to sleep in the next morning.
After all, he knew you were awaiting him just across the small house, and he would never pass up an opportunity to wake up with you.
Once he felt fresh and clean, he turned off the water and stepped out. He dried himself, wrapping the towel around his waist to make the short journey to the bedroom. He gathered his dirty (an understatement) clothes so they could be washed later, knowing to toss them in the hamper (also a habit he developed post-living with you) by the closet.
His feet made it to the closed bedroom door, and he was slow to open it. As he knew you would be, you were curled up in bed
He stopped in the doorway for just a moment to observe you. Your eyes closed softly and your breathing steady brought a flutter to his heart. It let him know you were comfortable and safe...you felt safe.
You were the balm to his weary soul, your presence a comfort he had come to rely on. He didn't watch you for long, knowing that he would much rather be with you up close than from afar.
He approached his side of the bed, carefully adjusting his pillow and peeling back the covers...to reveal quite the surprise.
Ordinarily, Daryl wasn't sure if he would've even noticed. However, this was such a difference that he wasn't sure if he couldn't have not noticed.
New sheets. He thought to himself, the corners of his lips turning up slightly.
In terms of quality, this bedding was a major upgrade. Your last set of sheets were very plain and, despite the fact that they kept you warm, were just plain overused.
But in terms of looks? Daryl wasn't so sure that this new bedding was an improvement.
You had mentioned to him a time or two that you wanted to change up your bedroom. Alexandria was proving to be your permanent home for the foreseeable future, so making your house the way you wanted seemed logical. Over time, Daryl had managed to find random furniture pieces out in the world outside the walls. Lamps, chairs, and whatnot.
Sheets, on the other hand, were much harder to come across. Frankly, Daryl hadn't ever found a set of sheets that were suitable for sleeping on...no matter how many times you washed them.
Daryl studied the sheets. They were light pink, decorated with a simple printed pattern of roses. It wasn't the tacky grandma type of floral/rose design -- this pattern was much more simplistic...dainty even.
Daryl didn't exactly love the sheets. But a bed was a bed, and as long as you were in it, he didn't rightly care.
Least the comforter is the same. He thought to himself.
He climbed into bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. He tried to keep his movements slow and gentle, but Daryl wasn't exactly known for being graceful.
He winced when you began to stir with a whimper, a brief look of panic in your eyes when they opened.
“Hey, hey…” He rested his hands on your shoulders. “It’s just me.”
You stared at him through squinted eyes for only a moment before sighing out a breath of relief and falling back into your pillow. You wasted no time moving closer to him, snuggling up to him with a content, soft smile.
"Hi." You whispered.
"Hey, pretty girl. Sorry I'm so late gettin' in."
You shook your head, not even giving it a second thought.
"It's okay. How was today?" You asked groggily.
He wrapped his arms around you, pressing his lips to your forehead. He felt the stress and pressure of the day melt away in the feeling of you.
"Can't complain. Got what we needed," He said. "I'm sorry I woke you."
"It's okay," You shrugged. "I'm happy you're here."
Your face was nuzzled into his neck, the smell of bar soap from his recent shower filling your senses. Daryl danced his fingertips along your back, noting that you were much warmer than he was from being in the bed for longer.
Speaking of, he knew it wouldn't be long before you wanted to discuss your new addition to the room.
“I got new sheets.” You mumbled, but even in your state of half sleep, he could tell you were excited about it.
“Mmhm.” He hummed. "I noticed."
The sound of his indifference caused you to pull your head back to look at him.
“You don’t like them?” You asked.
“A bit girly for me. Glad you like ‘em though,” He said. "Where'd you get 'em?"
"Michonne actually. She and Rick were out today and found a place stocked with that sort of stuff," You explained. "It must've been a Bed Bath and Beyond or something."
"A what?" He snorted.
"Bed Bath and Beyond. It was a furniture/home decor retail store back in the day," You explained. "That was a joke, but it had to have been some kind of home decor store. I don't know how else they could've found bedding this nice and new."
Daryl gave a small chuckle, amused by your high enthusiasm for just a set of new sheets. But he understood that they were much more than just sheets to you. They comforted you, and they gave you something to be excited about.
"What do you have to do tomorrow?" You asked, and Daryl couldn't help but groan.
He didn't want to think about tomorrow yet. He had literally just finished today. He knew that, even with a late start, he would have a day just like today: busy, hot, and exhausting.
For now, he wanted to enjoy the end of today...or what was left of it at least. He wanted to hold you close, get some sleep, and be thankful for another day survived.
And hope for many more to come.
"Same ol' things," He sighed. "Not ready for tomorrow yet."
You understood what he meant and ditched the topic. He smirked when you kissed him, which was your way of changing the subject and when you had run out of things to say.
Not that Daryl minded.
He held your face in his hand, keeping you close and preventing you from straying far from him. He felt himself melt into you, the best feeling in the world after a day like this. He wished he could have this every night.
His kisses were lazy and slow, which was a bit out of the norm for him. You could tell he was fighting sleep, and you didn't blame him in the slightest for being tired.
"How about we get some sleep? I know you're exhausted." You brushed a strand of hair from his eyes, noting how heavy they looked.
Normally, he would've fought for a few more minutes...but tonight, sleep sounded all too good.
"Yeah." He agreed.
"Talk more in the morning?" You asked, and he gave a grin.
"'Course, baby." He pressed his lips to the crown of your head.
Daryl shifted further under the covers, making sure that you were snuggled in and warm. Daryl kept you close for the rest of the night, sharing kisses when he could and keeping you in his dreams.
All wrapped up in those pink, floral sheets.
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haddonfieldwhore · 4 months
Text
i miss you, i’m sorry - matthew tkachuk
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matthew tkachuk x fem!reader
summary: you go with your bf to a hockey game; he is unaware of your history with one of the players (please read warnings!)
warnings: abusive bf, violence, strong and derogatory language, angst, a few uses of y/n
word count: 3k
you felt like you hadn’t been able to breathe properly in hours, sitting rigid like a stone next to mike, who’s mood has only deteriorated as the night went on. mike was a diehard coyotes fan, and had brought you to the game with him last minute when his friend had cancelled last minute.
“are you sure none of your other friends would want to go? they would probably have more fun than i would,” you had offered, desperately trying to get out of going.
“they’re all busy,” he replied. “i know you hate hockey, but can you try to have a good time, for me?” he asked sweetly, pulling you into his arms. you weren’t fooled by his tone; you would go and you would enjoy it, you didn’t have a choice.
“okay,” you smiled, and he kissed you softly before going to your shared room to get ready. you sighed, trying to figure out how you were going to make it through this game. you didn’t hate hockey - you used to love it actually, but when you started dating mike you chose to keep that part of your life a secret. it seemed silly at face value, but there was a bigger secret you were hiding from him, and you asked the universe why it had to be the panthers that arizona was playing tonight.
a little less than two years ago, you had dated their star player, matthew tkachuk for almost a year, before the travel and hectic schedule got to be too much for you, and you decided to leave; the hardest thing you had ever done. the relationship had been kept pretty quiet thankfully, no traces of it online except for one or two group photos from when you were together still floating around instagram; though you had done all you could to erase any evidence.
if mike found out, you honestly weren’t sure how he would react; but you knew it wouldn’t be good. you had met mike a few months after you and matthew broke up, and he was nice enough, until he wasn’t. he kept up the good guy just long enough for you to move in and become dependant on him, and suddenly you found yourself trapped. things were okay most of the time, but if he got angry, sometimes you got caught in the crossfire. he had only actually hit you once, but he yelled, and would sometimes grab you too hard, leaving you with bruises to cover before he could see them; he had the audacity to say that they made him upset.
he had been in a good mood when you got to the arena, and you were thankful that your seats weren’t too close to the ice, though you shuddered at the possibility of matthew seeing you in the crowd, despite how slim the chance was. you hadn’t seen him since they day you broke up, and as the familiar head of curly hair came out from the tunnel, skating on to the ice as part of the starting line up, your heart felt like it was being twisted in a vice.
you missed him. you missed your friends on the team, having grown pretty close to some of the guys, as well as their girlfriends. you hadn’t heard from any of them since leaving; it was too hard at first, and then it became a safety concern. any connection to your former life meant more risk of mike finding out about matthew, and that couldn’t happen.
“can you at least look like you want to be here?” mike whispered in your ear, and you knew it wasn’t a suggestion. you put on a smile, and thankfully it was good enough, as he turned his attention back to the players on the ice.
the game started off a bit slow, however the panthers had a 1-0 lead at the end of the first, and through the second as well. the coyotes were playing pretty rough, getting quite a few penalties for some dirty hits, all while mike cheered them on, booing the refs anytime they called a penalty on arizona. you watched as one of floridas players, nick cousins, ran into one of the coyotes while he was low on the boards, the hit landing on his shoulders or maybe his head, you couldn’t really tell. another coyote skated up and checked nick face first into the boards; hard. he hadn’t been looking that way and had no warning to protect himself, and you watched in distress as he crumbled to the ice, and you were worried he was unconscious.
nick had been one of your closest friends while you were dating matt, and your heart pounded as you watched him struggle to his feet.
“that pussy folded like a piece of paper!” mike laughed, enjoying every second of him getting hit. floridas players jumped on the guy who had laid the hit on nick, defending their fallen teammate as a fight broke out, sending players from each team into the penalty box. mikes mood dropped with each second of the refs deliberating passed, the officials eventually awarding nearly 20 penalty minutes to forsling for florida, as well as enough penalty minutes to arizona to give the panthers a man advantage.
“that’s fucking bullshit!” he screamed, the crowd of arizona fans not happy about the decision either. you said nothing as mike spilled some of his fourth beer on your lap, just thankful it hadn’t got on his spare coyotes jersey that he had insisted you wear. as the players got ready to continue the game, you looked across the ice, locking eyes with the one person you hoped you could avoid more than anything. something flashed in his eyes as he saw you, but his attention was quickly back to the game as the whistle blew, and soon the second period was over and he was gone down the tunnel for intermission.
the coyotes scored in the third to tie the game, but the panthers got the lead back, scoring twice in close succession. matthew looked to you after putting the puck in the net, and it took everything in you to ignore him. mike was livid at this point, the alcohol not helping in the slightest, and you cringed internally as he grabbed your hand, holding it way too tight.
forsling finally came out of the penalty box after serving 17 minutes, and immediately scored an empty netter, solidifying a 4-1 victory for florida. with 2 minutes left in the game, mike dragged you out to the concession area. matthews eyes noticed your empty seats, and his heart dropped, wondering if he had imagined you even being there in the first place.
downstairs, mike pushed you against the brick wall next to the restroom.
“wait here. i gotta piss before we leave,” looking at the long lineup already formed outside the men’s room. the arena was small, and there were limited washrooms, so you had a feeling this was gonna take a while, but you dared not move from your spot against the wall.
you could hear the final buzzer go, and the florida players began walking out from ice level, and you realized that they had to walk through the main area to get to the visitors locker room, and your blood ran cold. most of the panthers paid no mind to you, but you held your breath as you saw matthew approaching, praying that he ignored you like the others had.
he thankfully didn’t say anything, but your eyes locked for the second time that night as he passed by, disappearing down the hall and into the locker room. your foot tapped anxiously on the floor, grinding a small piece of gravel under your shoe as you willed mike to hurry the fuck up.
10 minutes went by, and you exhaled in relief as he finally appeared, not even caring about the death grip he took on your wrist as he literally dragged you behind him towards the exit.
“y/n?” a familiar voice called, and you hoped with all you had that mike would ignore it and keep walking. “wait- y/n.” mike stopped, causing you to bump into his back with how fast you were following behind him. he turned around, and you were sure he was quite confused as to why matthew tkachuk was calling after you.
“what the hell do you want?” mike asked, looking matt up and down before turning to you, still holding you tight. “do you know this asshole?”
“no, let’s go home,” you pleaded, but he wasn’t budging.
“you got the wrong girl.” mike shrugged. “shouldn’t you be circle jerking with the other guys in the locker room right now?” he spat, still bitter about his team losing the game.
“i told them to start without me,” matthew joked dryly, and you could feel his eyes on you, however yours were glued to the floor.
“funny,” mike replied. “let’s go,” he pushed you in front of him to leave.
“wait, y/n - please.”
“i’m sorry, you have the wrong person.”
“yeah, chucky,” mike laughed. “you must be thinking of some other whore. i’m sure there’s a lot of desperate chicks around here that would suck your cock though, so stop talking to mine.”
“you really shouldn’t talk about women like that,” matthew threatened, and while his tone sounded calm, you knew he was furious.
“or what? what, you want to fight or something?” mike asked. you noticed a few people gathering to watch, either out of concern or just to see matthew, but you knew this wasn’t going to end well.
“baby, can we please just-“
“shut up!” he shoved you and you fell to the floor, landing hard on your ass, before punching matthew in the face. matthew swung a fist at mikes face, hitting him square in the jaw. your eyes widened in horror as mike swung more drunken punches back at matt, and people backed away from the fight. you looked down the hall to see a familiar face, and you called out to your former friend.
“carter!” his eyes snapped up from his phone and he took out an airpod before he noticed the fight, and he quickly pulled matthew off of mike with the help of security guards that had come to help break up the situation. you stared at the ground in front of you again, feeling like the room was spinning and wishing that the floor would open up and swallow you. security handcuffed mike and escorted him out of the building, while carter and another security officer took matthew back down the hall towards the locker room.
an officer asked you to come with him, and he took you to an empty office room to take a statement about what happened. you just hoped matthew wouldn’t get in too much trouble.
when you left the office, there were thankfully little to no fans left in the arena, the hallways eerily empty as you walked towards the door. before you could reach it though, something - or someone - made you pause. you looked back down the hall to the locker room, and with a sigh walked towards it. you knocked on the door, your heart hammering against your ribcage as it opened, one of the team staff looking at you.
“i’m sorry, you can’t be back here-“
“it’s fine. she’s a friend,” carter interrupted her, opening the door to let you in. the room was empty, the team having already left, and you forced yourself to look at carter.
“are you okay?” he asked, and you nodded.
“thank you. i’m sorry-“
“don’t, it’s not your fault.” he opened his arms and you fell into them, hugging him tightly. “chuckys just getting patched up in the medic room. mostly procedure that they have to check him after a fight - usually it only happens during a game though,” he joked, and you found yourself smiling for real for the first time that night.
“is he in a lot of trouble?”
“no more than he normally gets himself into. it’ll be fine, y/n,” he assured you, but you were still worried there might be some legal repercussions. deciding there was nothing you could do about that right now, you managed to push the thought away and sat down on a bench in the locker room.
“you waiting around for him?” verhaeghe asked, and you nodded, eyes on the floor again.
“yeah. i think i’d be a shitty person not to.”
“you could never be a shitty person,” he smiled. “we miss you. chucky especially.” you looked up at him sadly.
“i miss you guys too.”
the medic door opened with a creak, and matthew walked out. you kept your eyes on your feet, counting the laces on your shoes over and over again.
“i’ll see you later,” carter said goodbye to both of you before leaving the room. you didn’t dare look up as matthew walked over slowly and sat down next to you, leaving space between you as his gaze lingered on you.
“you waited,” he said softly.
“yeah…. i don’t think i should have, but i wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“you wanted to make sure i was okay?” he laughed softly. “yeah, i’m okay.” he said, and an awkward silence filled the room. “was he always like that?” he asked gently, and you shook your head sadly.
“nope,” you said bitterly, eyes growing wet with tears. “he was perfect at first. until he wasn’t.”
“i’m sorry.”
“don’t be. it’s not your fault.”
“i still am. you don’t deserve to be treated like that.” you didn’t reply, knowing he was right. “y/n, you haven’t even looked at me.” he hand touched yours on the bench next to you, his touch so soft and gentle it was unfamiliar.
you turned your head towards him, and his heart broke at your sad expression. his lip was split open, red and forming a bruise already. you reached for his face without thinking, pulling your hand back before you went too far.
“what do you want me to say?” you whispered, a tear rolling down your cheek. with the carefulness of someone touching glass, he brushed it off your face, and you closed your eyes, leaning into his touch.
“do you have somewhere to stay tonight?” he asked, somewhat ignoring your question. he didn’t want you to say anything, he just wanted to make sure you were safe.
“i can figure something out,” you said, going through the options in your head; likely a hotel or sleeping in your car.
“please, i would feel a lot better if i knew you were somewhere safe. i have an extra bed in my hotel room-“
“no, matthew. i can’t do this.”
“do what?” he asked.
“this,” you gestured between the two of you. “thank you for protecting me, but i can’t let myself be near you. it’s too hard.”
“please,” his blue eyes looking in yours. the smell of his cologne wafted to your nose, filling you with a sense of safety that only he could ever bring you.
“okay,” you nodded.
the drive to the hotel was short and silent, but you felt at ease for the first time all night. the more time you spent with him, the more it felt like no time had passed; like things were back to how they were before. matthew held your hand the whole drive, his thumb drawing little circles on the back of it gently, his touch like a feather.
you got up to the hotel room and he grabbed a t-shirt from his suitcase for you.
“you a coyotes fan now?” he teased, and you laughed. matthew hadn’t realized how much he missed the sound, but did he would do anything to hear it again and again.
“not by choice,” you laughed, pulling mikes jersey over your head, putting the t-shirt over your undershirt you had on.
“did he know about -“
“no,” you shook your head, dropping the jersey in the small garbage can, and matthew cracked a smile. “he probably wouldn’t have liked it very much.”
“i’m sorry, i don’t mean to -“
“it’s okay. i know. how’s your lip?” you asked, still feeling guilty about it.
“it’s not my first split lip. i’ll live,” he smiled.
“is nick okay?” you asked, remembering the nasty hit during the game.
“he wasn’t feeling too hot after that. i’m not sure yet,” he admitted, and you nodded, before covering your mouth as a yawn slipped past your lips. “come on, sleepyhead, let get you to bed.”
you nodded, dragging your exhausted body into the nearest of the two queen sized beds. matthew tucked you into bed, leaning down to kiss your forehead, and you reached for his hand before he could walk away.
“lay with me?” you asked sleepily, knowing it was selfish to use him as a safety net right now; but you felt you would fall apart without him.
“are you sure?” he asked, and you nodded. he crawled into bed next to you, letting you cling to him like a life raft. “you’re safe now. i won’t let anyone hurt you, baby, i promise.”
“i know, matty,” you snuggled into him, everything about him bringing you comfort you hadn’t felt since you left; his scent, his voice, the feeling of his arms around you. “i missed you.”
“god, i missed you to. i don’t want to let you go again.”
“please don’t,” you begged, your eyes wet with tears that fell onto the fabric of his shirt, your fingers gripping it so tight your knuckles hurt. “don’t let me go.”
“i won’t.”
you felt like you were dreaming; what had started as a nightmare turning into the first time you had felt safe in months. you were scared that you would wake up and it hadn’t been real - you would be next to mike in his apartment, the cold draft from the window on your side of the bed would prickle you skin like it always did and you would have to apologize for not having his lunch ready for work.
but instead you would wake up in the arms of someone who actually cared about you, the sun peeking through the cracks of the blinds, casting warmth onto your skin. along with it, matthew brought a light to your life that had been missing for so long, you thought it was lost for good.
matthew pressed another soft kiss to your forehead as you felt yourself falling asleep, knowing you were protected as long as he was next to you.
“thank you matty,” you murmured, barely awake as you nose brushed the side of his jaw, your face tucked into the crook of his neck.
“anything for you.”
disclaimer: all screenshots, events, and/or interactions depicted in this are a work of fiction. i have no association with any parties mentioned
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mattitties · 4 months
Text
Boyfriend, pt 3 - matt sturniolo
smutty smut smut!
part 1 part 2
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“How was the date?” my roommate asks as I go into her room.
All I can do is smile. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this happy in my life. “I love him,” I say.
She rolls her eyes. “Oh jesus. Okay, come sit, tell me everything.” 
I sit on her bed and recount the whole night, from him picking me up at the door, to listening to Taylor Swift with me, to me never feeling a moment of awkwardness, and finally, to him kissing me outside the apartment. “Maybe it’s because I’ve never had a boyfriend so any ounce of actual romantic attention is a dream come true but I genuinely think he’s perfect for me,” I tell her.
“He does sound pretty perfect for you…”
“See!”
“But slow ya roll! Take it easy, just don’t rush into anything.” I nod in agreement. I know that there’s still so much to learn about him, but I just feel like I already trust him with my life. It takes me a long time to feel truly comfortable with anyone, but there’s just something about him that makes me feel like I’ve known him forever.
I wake up the next morning later than usual, and to my surprise, I already have a text from him. 
Good morning! I had a lot of fun last night :) 
I’m about to respond when another text comes through.
Would u wanna grab lunch today? I can pick u up again
I smile to myself and start typing.
good morning!! i had fun too, and i would love to get lunch! what time?
I can get you around 2?
sounds good see you then 😁
I look at the time and panic when I see it’s already 12:30. How the fuck did I sleep so late? I get ready and before I know it, it’s 1:55 and he’s texted me that he’s here. I have to applaud his punctuality, it’s hot as fuck knowing that he actually cares enough to be somewhere on time. God, I really need to raise my standards.
I head downstairs and he’s in the same spot by the door, smiling shyly when he sees me. His fashion sense is immaculate: today he’s wearing black cargo jeans, a black T-shirt, and a white long sleeve underneath. I’m disappointed that he’s not showing off his sleeve of tattoos like last night, but I still can’t stop staring at him. 
“Hi,” he smiles, giving me a hug. He smells good, like warm vanilla, and his hug is the most comforting thing in the world at this moment. 
“How’ve you been in the last… 12 hours since I saw you?” I ask as we head to the car.
“Oh you know, just been sitting at home twiddling my thumbs until I could see you again. We’re at a three day streak now!” he tells me as he opens the door for me. 
I laugh and can’t take my eyes off of him as he makes his way to the driver’s side. “Why’d you wear a long sleeve today? I miss your tattoos,” I fake pout and play with his sleeve.
“Ohhh, you can see those whenever you want, don’t you worry.” 
God, he makes me fucking crazy. We start driving, talking about mindless things, and end up at a little diner not too far from my apartment.
“My brothers and I go here all the time, their food is so good,” he tells me as we go inside.
Once we’re seated and have ordered our food, our conversation flows just the same as it did last night, except today we’re talking about stuff that it usually takes me at least a few weeks of knowing someone before I share about. I tell him about my family, he tells me about his and how he’s never been away from his brothers for more than 24 hours, while I tell him that my brothers and I are more like acquaintances and I only ever talk to them about surface level stuff. 
“I couldn’t imagine,” he says. “Nick and Chris are like my safety nets. To be honest, tonight and today are the first time I’ve actually gone out to a restaurant without at least one of them in like… 3 years.”
“Really? I actually don’t mind doing stuff alone. I know people hate going out to eat by themselves, but I think I just grew up so independent that I’m comfortable with it. Like, my favorite thing ever is going to the movies, but if I don’t have anyone to go with I’ll just go by myself. I find it peaceful,” I tell him. 
“I love going to the movies too, but I could never go by myself. That sounds fucking terrifying,” he says, laughing a bit as he talks. 
“I get it,” I say. “Well, would you ever want to go to a movie together? It’s not alone and we both like it, so…”
He smiles. “I would love to. But if you talk in there, I’m out. We’re done. No movie talkers in my presence.”
I shake my head very seriously. “Oh no, absolutely not. Trust me, you won’t hear a peep.”
By the time we finish lunch, it’s only 3:45, and neither of us are ready to go home yet. 
He turns to me when we get in the car. “What do you think about that movie right now? I have nothing else going on the rest of the day.”
We arrive at the theater and just pick a movie at random. Neither of us have any real interest in seeing any of the ones they’re showing, but it gives us something to do together. We’re pleasantly surprised when we walk into an empty theater, so we take our seats and make fun of the trailers until the movie starts. 
About 30 minutes in, I realize that I have no idea what’s happening in the movie. I’ve been glancing at Matt the whole time, trying to pretend like I don’t see him glancing at me too. I can tell that he wants to hold my hand, wrap his arm around me, just touch me in some way, and I want to just scream at him to do something. It’s all I can think about. I shift up a little in my seat and look at him slightly. He looks at me. Without saying a word, we both know what the other wants.
He takes my cheek softly in his hand and kisses me. I immediately fall into it, our lips moving together effortlessly, our tongues colliding. But I want more. I need more. 
“Matt,” I say between kisses. “Can we go back to my place?”
“But the movie isn’t over yet,” he breathes into my mouth.
I pull back slightly and look at him with the same eyes I gave him two nights ago. “Matt. My place. Please?”
His eyes widen. “Oh. Oh.” 
I nod and giggle as he grabs my hand and rushes me out of there and back to his car like his life depends on it. Luckily the movie theater is about 5 minutes away from my apartment, and even more luckily my roommate is at work. The tension in the car ride home and in the elevator is so thick I can hardly breathe. As soon as we open the door to my room, his hands are all over me. We’re kissing messier than before; our teeth are clashing, our tongues fighting one another. He walks us towards my bed, dipping his head so his mouth reaches my neck as he begins to kiss, nip, and suck. 
“Matt,” I whine.
“Hmmm,” he hums in response, sucking a spot right under my ear. I begin to play with the bottom of his shirt, signaling that I want it off. He smirks and unlatches himself from my neck just long enough to pull it off his body before going back to what he was doing.
“God you’re so hot,” I half whisper as my hands run down from his chest to his happy trail. I grab his face in my hands and kiss him hard, then sit down on the bed and look up at him. 
“What do you wanna do?” he teases, knowing exactly what I want. I pull my shirt off, leaving me in a black lace bra, and begin to undo his jeans as he stares down at me. 
“Is this okay?” I ask, pulling his zipper down painfully slow.
“Mhm. Yeah, no it’s, um, it’s good,” he says, clearly flustered by what’s happening. And I can’t get enough.
I pull his jeans down and almost drool over his black briefs. I look up at him again for a moment, then palm over his bulge, earning a low groan from him.
“Fuck,” he mumbles as I tear his briefs down as well, and I need to control my face when I see his dick.
It’s not huge, probably about 6 inches, but it’s genuinely perfect. I never thought I’d say that about a dick, but no, it is perfect. 
He inhales sharply as I wrap my hand around the tip and begin to work him, my thumb running over his slit every so often. I spit directly down on him as my hand moves down his shaft, and he groans again, pulling my hair into a loose ponytail. 
That’s my signal to wrap my lips around him and suck.
“Ohhhh, fuck,” he says, closing his eyes and tilting his head back for a moment before looking back down at me. My mouth takes him deeper and deeper with each suck, and his hips begin to buck toward me. 
He didn’t strike me as someone who would be very vocal during sex, but he’s consistently groaning and letting out soft curses.
After just a minute or two of this, he pulls my head off of him. 
“Lay down before I cum in your mouth,” he tells me as I move myself back towards the head of the bed and sit back on my elbows. He crawls over me, kissing my neck, chest, and stomach. “This is all I’ve been thinking about for the past 2 days. Can I take this off?” he asks, referring to my bra.
I nod. 
“Words, baby.”
“Please take it off,” I whine. He undoes the clasp and tosses it aside, taking a moment to stare before dipping his head back down and starting to suck on my left nipple. 
My breathing picks up as he starts to kiss lower and lower, not breaking eye contact when he removes my skirt and underwear at the same time.
He stares down at my dripping pussy, and although I’m extremely turned on and want nothing more than to fuck him right now, I’m reluctant to open my legs as the reality sets in of what’s happening.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, looking up at me with concern in his eyes.
“I just… haven’t done this in a while. I think I’m nervous,” I tell him quietly.
“I’ve got you, I swear. And if you wanna stop just tell me, okay?”
I nod. I can tell he’s being genuine; he’s not just telling me what I want to hear so he can fuck me. He really cares.
I watch as he opens my legs and hooks them over his shoulders. “You’re drippin for me, huh?” he asks, kissing my inner thighs.
“Mhm. I’ve wanted you so bad,” I barely even have time to finish my sentence before he’s putting his tongue inside my pussy. I gasp and grab his hair, my back arching which only makes him go deeper.
He moans repeatedly as he tongue fucks me, sending vibrations through my core. I’m a moaning mess, my heels are digging into his back, and it only gets worse as he brings his thumb to my clit and starts circling lightly. 
“Matt,” I’m on the verge of tears. “Fuck, don’t stop, please, oh my god— “
My orgasm rips through me with no warning, and I’m cumming on his tongue. He doesn’t give me any time to come down before he’s leaning over me, pushing my legs up so my knees are by my face. 
“Do you have condoms?” he asks, pushing my hair back.
I shake my head. “I’m on birth control. I’m clean, obviously.”
“So am I,” he says, running his leaking tip over my clit. 
I almost scream, I’m so sensitive. He looks so fucking good leaning over me. I grip his arm as he pushes into me. There’s a moment of pain as he fills me up, but it quickly turns to pleasure when he starts thrusting into me.
“Is this okay?” he asks, noticing my face and the tight grip I have on his arm.
“Yeah, just hurt for a second, but please keep going,” I breathe, pulling his head down for another kiss.
His thrusts get harder and faster with each passing minute. He fills me so perfectly, I never want this to end. I feel the coil tighten in my stomach yet again, and my moans get louder and needier.
“You gonna cum for me baby?” he taunts.
Baby. I clench around him and nod. “Uh huh.”
“Ohhh, good girl, keep squeezing my cock like that,” he groans. His thrusts are getting erratic, and his dick begins to twitch inside of me.
I chant his name like it’s the only word I know how to say as another orgasm hits me, and I’m squeezing him hard.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, ohhhhh fuck,” he groans as his own orgasm hits him, and I feel him release inside of me, his head collapsing into my neck.
We stay just like that for a few moments, him inside of me, us both half dead and breathing heavy, before he pulls out, picks me up bridal style, and sets me on the toilet.
“It’s peepee time!” he says excitedly while clapping his hands softly, causing me to crack up.
“You just fucked me and came inside of me and now you’re saying ‘it’s peepee time’? You’re such a freak,” I tell him.
After I finish, we take a quick shower to clean up, and I get unreasonably sad as he starts to get dressed.
I walk him to my front door and he kisses me again. “Let me know your work schedule this week. We’re going out again.”
“Okay, I will,” I smile and nod as I watch him leave.
I’m definitely falling for this guy. 
-----------------------------------------------
this was ridiculously long. i did not intend for that to happen. i really have no intentions of making this a full length series because i have other stories i wanna do and i have a few requests sitting in my inbox, so as the author i am telling you that they lived happily ever after yayyyyy
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theemporium · 5 months
Note
(totally not being self-indulgent rn) carlos seems like he'd be such a good listener with reader!girlfriend. she'd be the kind of person who's so quiet but chances are, when they're alone and he's got her curled up in his arms, she's going to talk about is whatever's happened in her latest read. he'd just be so patient with her and just listen to her ramble on. and sometimes, after a bad weekend, the one thing that can calm him down is her voice and her stories
this was so cute and i had to write something on it🥹thank you for sending this in!🫶🏽
.
It almost felt poetic to have a shitty ending to a shitty season, but it didn’t make him feel any better about the whole weekend. 
He was pissed. He was pissed when the tires started to feel shit. He was pissed when his race engineer kept reassuring him that they would pit soon. He was pissed when he was called into box at the last laps and practically gave up what was already a shitty position. He was fucking pissed when he ended the last race of the season in P18. 
He tried to grin and bear it. He took pictures with the team, he went through the debrief, he celebrated Charles finishing P2. He tried to just pretend like it wasn’t bothering him, like it wasn’t bubbling inside him just waiting to burst and blow up in his face. 
He had feigned exhaustion and a headache, leaving the club far earlier than anybody else even if it was at around one in the morning. He had stumbled into his hotel room, dragging his feet and even though he had only had a drink or two, his body felt like it was already on the brink of a hangover. 
He pulled off his clothes and fell back onto the bed, his eyes falling shut but sleep wasn’t an option for his racing mind. There was only one thing he wanted, but it was miles away and the mere idea of it made his chest feel like it was caving in.
So, he did the next best thing.
“If this is a drunk call, just know that I will be using whatever you say against sober you.”
Carlos felt the tightness in his chest ease as your voice sounded through his phone, his eyes falling shut as he let out a hum. “You always do.”
“You seem tired.” There was a pause, and he could almost imagine the adorable pout on your lips. “Do you want to talk about it?” 
“No,” he answered honestly, because he didn’t want to talk about it. He had spent the last few hours constantly talking about it: in debriefs, in interviews, in conversations with other drivers. He hadn’t stopped talking about his shit race and the fact his whole strategy was relying on a probability of a safety car happening, and now he just wanted to forget it ever happened. Even for a few minutes. “I just wanna hear you talk.”
“Hear me talk?”
“Yeah, I saw you finished another book,” he commented, a vague memory of a notification popping up on his phone at your Goodreads account being updated. “Tell me about it.”
“Stalker.”
He snorted. “How else can I know which books to buy you?”
“I’ll never finish my TBR! I don’t even have enough space for all the books you buy me.”
“Then I’ll buy you a library, amor,” he hummed, his body sinking into the bed. “Tell me about it. What happened? Who do we like? Who do we dislike?” 
There were a few beats of silence before you gave in, before you began rambling about characters and plots and little things that irked you enough to make you rant away to your boyfriend. 
He listened with a smile, just taking in the sound of your voice and your enthusiasm as he reminded himself he would have you in his arms in less than twenty-four hours, and this season truly would be behind him.
.
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goodgirlfaith1 · 2 months
Text
Sneaking Around
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Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Fem!reader
Summary: Sneaking around with your brother’s best friend is fun, until your brother finds out.
Warnings: Intoxication, violence, kissing, sexual innuendos, fluff.
Word count: 3.7k
PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU’D LIKE ME TO WRITE THIS IMAGINE FROM JAKE’S WIFE’S POV!
I’d love to write a Jake Seresin imagine, so let me know if this is something you’d want to read!
Girls, Girls, Girls by Motley Crue had just began playing through the Hard Deck as you walked in the door. The bar was filled with people, but you immediately spotted your best friend, Natasha. She was talking to Penny, who was standing behind the bar.
You met Natasha through your big brother, Jake Seresin, since she was one of his best friends. It was Natasha who insisted you come out tonight, so here you were, walking into the Hard Rock, where you knew your big brother, and your boyfriend would both be...in the same room.
Bradley was an amazing boyfriend and he made you the happiest you'd ever been, but the only issue was that neither of you had told Jake yet. Bradley was Jake's best friend, but Jake was insanely over protective of you, and you knew how pissed off he would be if one of his friends even looked at you the wrong way. And Bradley had done much more than just look at you.
You made it about halfway through the bar before Natasha turned her gaze over her shoulder and spotted you. A grin took over her face. "Olivia!" She shouted, clearly drunk, and happy to see you.
You noticed a few heads turn when Natasha screamed your name, including Bradley's. He was standing next to Jake by the pool table, looking handsome as ever. You noticed his face light up when his gaze landed on you, but when Jake said something in his ear, he was pulled back to reality, and quickly tried to hide the look on his face, his gaze returning to the pool table.
Seeing how happy Natasha was, you assumed the mission she and the rest of the group, including Bradley and Jake, were doing today. You felt a sense of relief wash over you. You and Camila - Jake's wife - had both been worried sick about all of your friends all day. Of course, Camila was better at hiding how much she worried about Jake, for his own benefit. She was an incredible support system for him.
You wanted to be that for Bradley.
In the weeks leading up to the mission, you'd noticed a shift in both Bradley's and Jake's behaviour. Anytime you asked what they were doing, Jake told you it was classified and that for your own safety, he couldn't tell you, and Bradley said the same whenever you asked him.
"Look at you!" Natasha said as you neared her. "You look amazing!" She pulled you in for a hug when you reached her, which was something she only ever did when she was drunk. You were just happy she was having fun.
"Thanks, Tash," you smiled. "Tell me how it went, I can't wait any longer," you begged her to put you out of your misery.
"It went well," Natasha smiled. "We did it!"
You smiled, letting out a breath in relief. "Thank god," you said. "And everyone's okay? No one's hurt?"
Natasha shook her head, "nope, everyone's fine," she smiled.
You smiled at your best friend. "I'm so proud of you, Tash."
"I'm proud of me too!" She said before she turned to Penny. "Penny, can I please have two tequila shots?"
You smiled at Natasha, rolling your eyes, "fine, just one!"
~~
~One hour later~
It was in fact, not just one.
After one too many tequila shots, you were feeling tipsy, and you'd just caught Bradley stealing another glance at you for what felt like the millionth time tonight...though you weren't complaining. Although you were all hanging out as a group, you hadn't spoken to Bradley one on one yet, with Jake being around.
Smiling to yourself, you set your drink down on the pool table and looked at Bradley over your shoulder, finding his eyes already on you. You smiled and turned around, beginning to walk away and make your way across the bar, heading towards the restroom.
He'd been driving you crazy the whole night, and you seemed to be having the same effect on him. He looked so damn good in his aviator suit, you couldn't help but steal a glance at him whenever Jake wasn't looking.
When you walked into the restroom, the door hardly had a chance to close behind you before it swung open again, and in walked Bradley, looking handsome as ever. You let your gaze run down his body, smiling as you took him in.
"Hi, lieutenant," you said with a smile.
A smirk pulled on Bradley's lips, and he took a few quick steps towards you, wrapping his strong arms around your lower back before he crashed his lips into yours. You completely melted into him, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck as you craned your neck to meet his kiss. You could taste whiskey on his tongue as it moved with yours, and you hummed into the kiss. You knew Bradley was always horny when he drank whiskey.
You pulled back, breaking the kiss, and a look of disappointment flashed across Bradley's face."Tash said the mission went well," you said with a smile.
Bradley nodded, "mhm." A boyish grin grew on his face as his large hands snaked up your back to rest on either side of your ribcage. "Are you proud of me, baby?" There was a look of vulnerability in his brown eyes as they flicked between yours.
Bradley always wanted to be strong for you, and that was something you admired about him, but seeing him being so vulnerable with you like this meant more to you than he'd ever know.
You nodded with a smile, gently toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. "I'm so proud of you, Bradley." You smiled, "You always make me proud."
Bradley smiled and licked his lips. There was stars in his eyes as he gazed down at you. He hadn't been able to take his eyes off you all night, and he was past trying to hide it. He knew now that he was in too deep to care about Jake finding out.
"Can we talk about these shorts for a second?" Bradley said with a smile, flicking his gaze back up to meet yours. "And this little top?"
You smiled, running your hands down his muscular arms. "What about it?" You played dumb as you pulled Bradley's Ray Ban's out of the pocket on the chest of his aviator suit and slid them onto your face, letting them rest on the bridge of your nose.
Bradley's gaze darkened ever so slightly. "D'you know how hard it's been for me to have to stand there and watch all these stupid fuckin' little boys drool over you all night? Maybe I should just let everyone know your mine."
Your gaze fell down to his lips, lingering there for a few short seconds. "And how would you do that?" You flicked your gaze back up to meet his.
"Why don't I show you?"
A smile grew on your lips at Bradley's words. He was quick to connect his lips with yours, and you felt his hands run down your lower back as you wrapped yours a little tighter around the back of his neck. You melted into him when he slipped his tongue into your mouth, and you smiled into the kiss, moving his sunglasses so they were resting on top of your head. You could feel yourself aching for him. You threaded your fingers into his hair and tugged gently, making Bradley groan into the kiss. The noise sent butterflies erupting in your stomach, and you could feel yourself soaked for him.
You felt Bradley's large hands make their way further down your lower back until they reached your ass, which he gave a squeeze before he picked you up. You smiled into the kiss as you wrapped your legs around his waist, and he walked you over to the sink and sat you down on the counter next to it.
Standing in between your legs, Bradley broke the kiss, breathing heavily as his eyes flicked between youre. "Tell me you're mine," he said, his eyes filled with lust, but also a little neediness. It turned you on.
"I'm yours," you whispered, leaving a kiss on his lips. "All yours." You kissed him again and a boyish grin took over his face. You smiled too, breathing out a laugh. "Why are you smiling like that?"
Bradley's smile never faded. "You're mine," he said, as if he was in disbelief. 
You placed your hands on either side of his face, pulling him a little closer. "Yours," you repeated, and you meant it. "I don't want anyone else."
Bradley looked at you like he was about to say something. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he smiled as he crashed his lips against yours. You smiled into the kiss, too, threading your fingers into his hair.
It was a heated and urgent kiss, and it was clear how needy both of you were for one another. You melted under Bradley's touch as his hands roamed your body, kissing him back with as much urgency as he gave you.
Until you heard the door swing open.
Shit.
You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound, and you and Bradley were both quick to take your hands off each other. Your lips parted at the sight of Camila standing by the door, a hand covering her mouth.
"I'm so sorry," she said, trying to hide a smile.
Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Camila didn't seem at all shocked, and you wondered why.
Why was she being so cool about this?
"Why do you not seem surprised right now?" Bradley asked her. He was clearly confused, too.
"Because it's obvious you two like each other," she smiled. "I don't know how Jake hasn't figured it out yet."
"So Jake doesn't know?" You asked.
Camila shook her head, "no." You felt so relieved. You'd hate for Jake to put the pieces together himself or hear it from someone else. You owed it to him to tell him yourself.
"But, I do think you should come with me, 'cause I think Jake might be coming in here in a minute," Camila said, taking a glance over her shoulder at the door as she walked towards you.
Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion as you got down off the counter, "why?"
Camila's eyebrows raised and her lips parted, "no reason," she said.
Your face scrunched up when the realisation hit that Camila and Jake were headed in here to do the same thing as you and Bradley were about to do. "Ew," you shook your head.
"Sorry," Camila said awkwardly. She took Bradley's sunglasses off your head and handed them back to Bradley, who took them from her with an appreciative smile, though he was dying inside. He wanted nothing more than to tell Jake about you and him. He wasn't sure how much longer he could wait. He was sick of sneaking around, he wanted everyone to know you were with him.
"Come on," Camila said, putting her arm around you. "Lets get you out of here."
"Thanks, Cam," you said softly, giving Bradley a glance over your shoulder before you walked out of the restroom and back into the bar with Camila. There was an expression on Bradley's face you couldn't quite read.
~~
You spent the next few hours painfully needy for Bradley, but getting caught by Camila was a close enough call - it could've been Jake that walked in on you. And god knows how badly that would've ended.
You and the rest of the group - including Bradley and Jake - had been playing pool for the past half hour, and you and Bradley had been stealing glances at each other whenever you can. You just hoped it wasn’t obvious, though no one seems to suspect anything.
Just as you were about to take your turn, you heard a voice from behind you. "Excuse me, miss." You turned around, meeting the gaze of a man who you didn't recognise. He looked to be around the same age as you. His blue eyes wandered down your body shamelessly, and you thanked god Jake was at the bar, getting another round of drinks. "Can I buy you a drink?"
You smiled awkwardly and shook your head, aware of the fact that Bradley was standing behind you. "No, thanks. I'm good."
You turned your back to him, ready to take your turn until you felt a pair of hands take hold of either side of your waist. You stole a quick glance at Bradley, and he was glaring at the man. You swore his eyes could burn holes right into him.
"Come on," the man said with a smile as you turned around to face him, his hands still on your waist. You'd be lying it you said you didn't feel extremely uncomfortable. "You won't regret it." He raised his eyebrows, smiling.
"She said no," Bradley said from behind you.
Uh oh.
The cocky smile was wiped straight off the man's face when his gaze landed on Bradley. He clearly hadn't noticed him until now. "Bradshaw," he said.
"Williams, I suggest you take your hands off my girlfriend before I break them." You could tell by Bradley's tone alone that he was absolutely seething. "'Cause I will."
The man quickly took his hands off you and took a step back, but Bradley was quick to take a step forward, now standing in front of you. You glanced at the bar, and your heart dropped when you couldn't see Jake. You knew he must've been making his way back over to the group.
"I'm sorry, I didn't realise she was with you!" The man pleaded as Bradley towered over him, his jaw clenched.
"Is something wrong?"
You could feel your heart pounding in your chest when you heard Jake's voice. Your gaze snapped to your right, and there he was.
"I-I didn't know she was his girlfriend!" The man said to Jake.
And you swear you could feel your heart drop to your stomach.
Jake's eyebrows knitted together in confusion as he flicked his gaze between the three of you. "Whose girlfriend?"
"Bradshaw's!"
And just like that, Jake's expression went from confused, straight to angry. His green eyes narrowed as his gaze flicked between you and Bradley, and you could feel your palms sweating.
"Fuck off, Williams," Jake said, keeping his darkened gaze trained on Bradley's.
If looks could kill.
"Outside," he ordered Bradley. "Now."
You feared what Jake was going to do. You knew he could be unpredictable when it came to protecting you. "Jake, lets just talk-"
"Stay out of it, Olivia," Jake interrupted you.
It felt like a knife had been lodged into your chest when your name left his lips, so bitterly. Jake only ever called you by your full name when he was angry, which was hardly ever. You were so used to him calling you Liv, you felt scholded when he called you by your full name.
Jake turned around and began walking away, and when you took a step forward to follow him outside, Bradley stepped in front of you. "Stay here, baby. It's okay."
Bradley could tell how worried you were by the look on your face, but he wanted to let you deal with it and take ownership for his actions. He owed it to his best friend.
When Jake stepped outside, Bradley followed closely behind, but the second Bradley stepped onto the sand, Jake was ready, and he threw a hard punch straight across Bradley's face.
It killed you to watch Jake hit Bradley, but what killed you even more was the way tht Bradley didn't fight back. He took it, wiping away the blood that had begun to trickle down from his nostril. You suddenly felt a wave of guilt hit you, it wasn't fair that Bradley was taking the fall for both of your actions.
Your vision soon became blurred, and you felt a pair of arms wrap around you. It was Camila. You kept your gaze fixed on Bradley and Jake as you cried into her shoulder. She gently rubbed her hand up and down your back as you cried. "I love him, Camila."
"I know you do, honey," she said softly, holding you tight.
You watched as Jake took hold of Bradley's collar to throw another punch, but Bradley said something to him that made him stop in his tracks. You weren't sure what Bradley said, but you thanked god for whatever it was. You couldn't watch Jake hit him again.
Jake said to Bradley with a serious expression on his face. When Bradley nodded, Jake let go of his collar and took a step back.
"What did he say?" You heard Natasha's voice from behind you.
Camila looked to you, smiling softly. "I think we both know what he said," she said to you, raising her eyebrows expectantly. You knew what she was getting at, and you shook your head, feeling a blush spread across your cheeks.
"No," you said, smiling as you shook your head. "I don't think he feels that way."
"I think he does," Camila smiled softly. "He loves you," she whispered teasingly, just loud enough for you to hear.
"Shut up," you smiled, feeling a little embarrassed, though you hoped she was right.
Camila wiped the tears from your face and you took a breath in, smiling softly. "It's okay. See?" She nodded her head towards Bradley and Jake, and when you turned your gaze to them, you noticed they were now talking in a more calm manner. Jake still looked a little irritated as he stood in front of Bradley, who was now sat on the hood of his car, looking a little frustrated as he spoke. He was clearly trying to explain himself.
After five or ten minutes - though it felt like forever for you - Bradley stood up from the hood of his car, standing in front of Jake. Jake said something to him with a serious look on his face and Bradley nodded. It looked like Bradley said I promise, but you couldn’t be 100% sure.
You couldn't stop the smile from growing on your face when Jake pulled Bradley in for a hug, patting his back.
The two of them walked back into the bar together a couple minutes later, and you quickly left the rest of the group at the pool table and began weaving through the crowds of people until you reached Jake and Bradley.
"Are you okay?" You asked Bradley, who nodded and smiled softly down at you as you took a gentle hold of his face to inspect it. There was still a faint blood stain beneath his nose. "You didn't have to hit him," you turned to Jake.
"I know, I overreacted Liv. I'm sorry, but I just saw red. You're my baby sister, I'm supposed to protect you from assholes that only want one thing from you," Jake explained, flicking his gaze to Bradley. "But clearly, this asshole's in it for the long run."
You smiled, breathing out a laugh through your nose. "So, you're not mad?"
Jake shook his head, "I'm not mad."
A wide grin took over your face. "Thanks Jakey boy," you said as you threw your arms around your big brother. Jake smiled and wrapped his arms around you, and you gave him a squeeze, feeling a huge weight lifted off your chest now that he knew.
"I love you, kid," he said.
"I love you too," you smiled, pulling back. You felt Bradley's arm wrap around your side, and you leaned into him, wrapping your arm around him.
"Remember what I said," Jake said to Bradley. "That wasn't a threat, it was a promise." And with that, Jake walked away, making his way towards the group.
You craned your neck to meet Bradley's gaze, he was so much taller than you. "What did he say to you?"
Bradley wrapped his arms around your waist, smiling softly down at you. "He told me he'd kill me if I ever break your heart."
You rolled your eyes and placed your hands on either side of his face, still a little concerned. "Are you sure you're alright?" Bradley pulled closer until your body was pressed flush against his as you gently wiped away the last of the blood stain from under his nose with your thumb.
He smiled down at you, "I'm okay, sweetheart."
"I'm so sorry he hit you." You shook your head, feeling so guilty.
Bradley shrugged, "it was worth it." Your smile grew wider into a grin, you felt so lucky. "You know what this means?"
"What?"
"I can finally let everyone know you're mine," Bradley said with a smile before closing the gap in between the two of you, pressing his lips against yours. You smiled into the kiss, wrapping your arms a little tighter around the back of his neck.
It felt so good to kiss him in public. Sneaking around could be exciting at times, but you knew that you loved Bradley, and you wanted everyone to know you were together.
Bradley's arms remained wrapped around your waist when you broke the kiss, and you placed your hands on his muscular chest. "What did you say to him?"
"I told him the truth," Bradley answered.
You smiled softly, tilting your head to the side slightly. "Which is?"
"That I want so much more with you than just sex," he began. You smiled up at him, and he gently brushed a few stray hairs off your face. "That I want a future with you more than anything," he continued. "And that I'm in love with you."
So many butterflies erupted in your stomach, you swore you could've opened a sanctuary. You couldn't believe he felt the same way as you did. A smile slowly grew on your face as Bradley's words sank in.
"You are?"
Bradley nodded, smiling softly as he gazed down at you. "I am."
You grinned widely and jumped into his arms. Bradley was more than ready, and picked you up with his hands on the back of your thighs. With your legs wrapped around his waist, you smiled as you took hold of his face and kissed him.
"I love you, too."
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hauntedwitch04 · 7 months
Text
Wrong time, right person
Azriel x reader
Words: about 3.3k words
Warnings: smut, smut, Iforgot to say smut, and Azzy himself ;)
Author’s note: Hi loves! I finally managed to write some more after the crazy week I had. Hope you like it, your witch Becky
Requests are open I Ask
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KINKTOBER ...........-..........KINKTOBER TAGLIST 2023
DAY 3: Sex pollen
It's an easy mission they said.
Touch and go, they won't even know you passed by they said.
Assholes. Liars. Bastards. Especially liars though.
This is all I can think of as the Shadowsinger and I find ourselves running through the trees being chased by the guards of the lord we had gone to spy on. Someone must have warned of our arrival, because a few minutes after arriving on the spot, we were already surrounded by enemies. We fought to the end, but were forced to retreat into the woods, seeking safety in escaping through that labyrinth of logs, hoping that those stupid enforcers would not be able to follow us.
It seems like hours that we are running when we finally decide to stop, in the vicinity of a cave, so that we can find refuge from the darkness and our pursuers.
"We finally lost those assholes." My companion comments, sitting back against the cave wall, leaning his head against the rock and showing his neck, leaving it exposed to my gaze.
That simple gesture kindles a fire in me that burns brightly, and I feel compelled to look away. I close my head between my legs and feel Azriel's gaze on me as he approaches. I feel him rest a hand on my shoulder, and I can't help but moan at that simple contact. I feel my cheeks get hot, but he doesn't flinch and asks me worriedly, "Hey, are you okay?" I can't bring myself to look at his face so I nod slightly still with my head between my legs and mutter a nonsensical apology. He still tries for a moment to wrest the truth from my lips, but I don't even flinch for a second. Azriel, seeing then that I did not intend to explain anything, stands up.
"I'm going to gather some wood for the fire, or we'll freeze to death tonight." He says, as he approaches the exit of the cave. I glimpse from below my knees the color of the sky, which is now turning blue.
"Okay, I'll stay here." I tell him in a whisper loud enough for him to hear me. I guess he nods, before walking out of our shelter, leaving me to think about why I took that action earlier. Ever since we escaped from the building I feel a strange sensation permeating my body, but I hadn't given it too much thought before since my priority was to run away from the guards, but it's as if after all that effort that feeling has expanded to the nth degree. It almost feels as if my body no longer belongs to me: I feel a wet sensation between my panties, while the fabric of my T-shirt brushing against the skin of my breasts sends shivers down my spine as my nipples harden against my bra. I squeeze my thighs together trying to ease that sensation, but it all proves futile. I feel a wave of embarrassment rise through my body again, thinking that this is all due only to a small gesture from the Shadowsinger.
Eventually I decide to lie down and try to get some sleep hoping that with a good dose of rest the next day I would wake up feeling better than I am now. I lie down with some difficulty on the floor only to fall unconscious in the arms of Morpheus after a few seconds.
But all is in vain, because in the middle of the night I suddenly wake up all sweaty. I sit up while with one hand I hold my chest. I feel the fire from before writhing in my gut, and on instinct my other hand goes to my center automatically, but realizing my gesture I immediately freeze.
Azriel was sitting in front of the fire, and seeing me feeling so sick he immediately approaches me, touching my forehead to feel if I had a fever. Immediately he retracts his hand feeling how hot I am, and makes me lie of me.
"You try to lie to me one more time about feeling good, and I swear I will never make you go on a mission with me again, and I will make sure Rhysand doesn't either." Says Azriel, as he removes part of my suit, to let the cold night wind cool me down a little. I again find myself letting escape a moan of pleasure as I feel that cool night breeze brush against my warm skin. I feel my nipples becoming turgid as I somehow try to get away from the Shadowsinger's constant touch, which is only making the situation I am in worse.
"I would say now is not the time to lecture me Az." I reply as I try to catch my breath. The Illyrian looks conflicted, but finally stands up and looks me straight in the eye.
"I'll try to do something. You stay here, and in case you give a yell, I'll be back here in less than a second." Says Azriel before disappearing into the night.
I stay looking at the place where he disappeared for a few minutes, trying to distract myself from the feeling of pain and the impossibility of having what my body desires, but finally I give in and begin to slowly run the fingers of my right hand over my center. I immediately feel the pain lessen, but like a drug, this never seems to be enough and I need more and more. My other hand wanders down my body until it rests on my breast and I begin to stimulate one of my nipples. My right hand I run it under my pants and for the first time my fingers come in contact with the wet lips of my pussy.
I remain in that limbo situation for what feels like an eternity experiencing enough pleasure to not die of pain and at the same time not enough to be completely well.
After what seems like hours, I hear Azriel's heavy footsteps getting closer. Quickly I try to look presentable, but immediately the lack of that little antidote causes me more pain than I felt before. I feel twinges in my abdomen that make me bend over, but despite this I look up at the man in front of me, and I cannot help but curse Mother for creating such a perfect being: he has not slept in days, he is drenched in sweat and tired, and yet he continues to be the most attractive person I have ever seen.
He stops to catch his breath, and only then do I realize that he no longer has the cape he was wearing before, in fact now his muscular arms are clearly evident, thanks in part to the tank top he was wearing.
"Where did your cloak go?" I ask, trying to distract myself in a very unsatisfactory way.
"I had to give it to Suriel, to get him to help me understand what you have." He says casually as he approaches me. At that gesture I try to pull away, but he doesn't let me, resting his hands on my shoulders. He then places his lips on my forehead to test whether I still have a fever. That gesture again unleashes a fire capable of burning whole woods in my stomach, and I groan, almost in pain, pushing him away from me.
"Did I hurt you?" Azriel asks worriedly, and I wave him off, so as not to worry him, but he doesn't seem convinced.
"What did Suriel tell you?" I ask, trying to change the subject.
"Well, as we were running away you spilled a jar of powders on yourself as we were going through that sorceress's store, remember?" Azriel says, looking at the ground, as if ashamed. I nod, remembering very well that damned jar, which made me sneeze for several minutes.
"You didn't read the label on that jar, did you?" He continues vaguely, so much so that nervous and without patience, I force him to look at me before answering him.
"Of course I didn't have time to look at it Az, go straight to the point." I say impatiently. His cheeks turn red, and he stammers something under his breath that I can't understand at first, so I ask him to repeat it. He raises his eyes and fixes his in mine, before repeating what he had tried to say before.
"It was sex pollen, the one that spilled on you." He says finally, and I feel the blood freeze in my veins, still in shock from the revelation he threw at me. "And according to Suriel, the only way to keep you from dying right now is to...well you know, go along with what your instincts are asking you to do."
"Thank you for explaining in such a nice way that I have to masturbate Az, really very nice." I say almost angry at him, even though I know I'm not really. I'm partly angry at myself for putting myself in that situation, but I can't do anything about it now, and now I'm also in danger of dying.
"Hey, I'm trying my best." He replies, scratching the back of his neck with his right hand, looking embarrassed.
"I know, I know Az, it's just-" I pause for a moment, trying to find a way to say it. I take a big breath and keep talking. "I've already tried touching myself, alone, down there, but it didn't do much good." I confess in a low voice, hoping he won't hear it, but unfortunately Shadowsinger's hearing is too acute to miss my confession. He freezes for a moment as if he is about to reason out what to do, then speaks again.
"I know." Azriel says in a guilty tone.
"What do you mean you know?" I ask shocked as I look at him, not understanding what he was referring to.
"Well the Suriel may or may not have told me that you would not be healed this way. "He continues as he watches the fire casting beams of light on the walls of the cave we are in. I stop again, and begin to reflect on all that I knew about these powders as I feel the pain getting worse and worse. By now I can feel my panties completely wet, as every single contact with what's around me unleashes a series of shivers that reaches to my core.
"I thought that was enough...well you get it. In all the books dealing with pollen with potential danger they say that's enough, be satisfied." I try to explain, as I draw a groan caused by my shifting which resulted in clenching my thighs together.
"I thought so too, but he said this doesn't count if-" He freezes as if he cannot find the words. I, growing more and more impatient, ask him aloud to continue.
"Az just doesn't seem like the time to be shy." I urge him to speak.
"He said it's not enough when you're in close proximity to your mate." He blurts out, standing up sharply. I squint my eyes not believing what my ears have just heard, but I immediately understand that feeling that has long been building in my heart toward my mate. Well I would say more than friend. I feel something forming in my chest that takes shape through a golden thread extending from my sternum to that of Azriel, who is currently turned his back to me as he looks out of the cave as if in the same there is the answer to this problem. Immediately I feel that silly happiness I felt at having found my mate, and that he was the man I actually loved all my life already disintegrating under the idea that he didn't want all that.
"You don't have to." I whisper, in the grip of ever-worsening cramps, but right now they seem like nothing more than mild pain compared to what my heart was feeling.
"You don't understand, if we don't do this, you will die and I won't let you die." He counters by turning around and dropping to his knees at my height looking me straight in the eye.
"I don't want your pity." I reply harshly as I try to get out of his sight, unable to do much given my condition, because I don't want him to see my suffering and the pain his rejection has triggered in me.
"No, I don't want my mate, the woman I've loved all my life to die and I'm pissed off at Mother because I didn't want it to happen like this between us the first time. I wanted to do everything right, take you to dinner, confess under the stars and then make love to you in my bed between the sheets I had specially chosen your favorite color, not on the floor in a stupid cave after risking our lives! When I knew you were my mate I wanted nothing more than to thank Mother, fate or whoever, but now I hate them because they had to pass the anger they vent on me to you, and I don't want to see you suffer because of me." He blurts out as he begins to walk around the cave again, then finishes his speech by looking at me. A strange light sparkles in his eyes, they look like the eyes of someone who loves to the point of being sick, to the point of suffering, and that love right now is directed at me. I can't believe his words, but that connection makes me feel that everything he just said is the truth, and immediately the happiness I lost a few moments ago returns, along with hope.
"We can still do it." I confess in a whisper and he immediately turns to me, his eyebrows furrowed over his beautiful eyes. "We can do it once we get home. We'll tell Rhys they can go screw him and his missions, and we'll take some time to figure this out and get used to it, and we can do everything you just said, because believe me I want to do all that with you."
"But?" He asks as he approaches.
"But now all I need is you fucking me as hard as you can in this shitty place so that I can stop dying and talk to you without having to moan every time." I say, as I grab his shirt with one hand, since he was now close enough to me, and kiss him with all the passion in my body.
I feel like I can finally breathe again as my lips on his, and I can already feel the pollen fade as the urge to feel Azriel inside me increases without measure.
"As my lady wishes." Whispers the Illiryan on my lips as we pull away from that breathless kiss. I immediately feel his lips graze my neck, to start biting and sucking on it as if his life depended on it. Every single movement of his lips and tongue made me touch the sky with one finger as I moaned his name as if I were a priestess intent on making a prayer and he the deity I believe in.
His lips then move from my neck to my breasts, where he begins to suck on my nipples like a hungry child. I bring my hands into his hair and pull them every time his tongue touches one of my sensitive spots.
"Baby doll, if you pull my hair one more time, I don't think I'll be able to keep myself from fucking you so hard I'll leave your silhouette on the floor of this place." He says pulling away for a moment to kiss my lips again.
My hands move down, and I begin to open his pants, while he begins to open mine.
"All words, I want to see some action." I reply, trying not to give away how much his words had affected me. He smirks, realizing that he actually made a mark with what he said, just brushing against my panties and feeling how wet they are.
"You will regret saying what you just said baby doll." Az replies, as with a quick gesture he enters of me. I didn't even notice that he had moved both my and his panties, but right now I don't care.
Feeling his cock inside me is an otherworldly experience. I can feel the walls of my pussy tighten around his sizable member as he tries to stay as still as possible to get me used to his size.
"Tell me if it hurts, or if you feel like you can't take it anymore, okay?" He asks softly, as he kisses my sweaty forehead. I feel the cramps from the sex pollen return, and I groan before I answer him.
"Az, I can't take it anymore, either you move or I swear I'm going to flip you over and start doing what I need to do on my own." I say, trying to move my hips slightly and create some friction, but he stops me, resting his hips on mine and giving that silly little smile that makes him so sexy.
"Oh, I can't wait to see you ride my cock, but I'd say leave that experience for another time. Tonight is just for you, and for your pleasure." He comments and then begins to move.
Immediately I feel every single part of the universe fall into place as he gradually increases his speed. My body seems to be persecuted everywhere with shivers of pleasure as his lips rest lightly on my breasts again. Between his mouth, his cock, and the sex pollen in my body my orgasm seems to come with a speed I never expected.
"Please Az, don't stop." I say groaning, feeling the pleasure grow more and more every second.
"Oh baby I could never deprive myself of the feeling of my cock against your cervix. You're going to come, aren't you?" She whispers back as I try to nod. "Then we'll come together love."
"Yes, please Az fill me." I continue, and I feel her muscles tense even more under my touch.
"Honey don't challenge me, you know I could fuck you so hard you wouldn't walk tomorrow even if you prayed to Mother." He counters by increasing his speed.
"It would certainly be worth it." I answer as I now feel I am on the edge of oblivion, just one thrust would be enough to sink into pleasure. I hold my breath for a moment as I feel him move for the last time before my body begins to move in convulsions of pleasure, and my vision becomes totally blurred.
I feel him releasing all his semen inside me shortly after coming, and I feel him lying on top of me, relaxing.
We stay like that for a few minutes before he starts laughing. I look at him not understanding why he is laughing until he explains himself.
"God, I guess in the end I will have Rhys to thank for this mission." Whispers Az.
"Actually it wasn't that bad." I comment, laughing in turn.
"Let's say it had its upsides." He replies with a wink. "But don't think it's over here, wait until you get home, and when I'm done with you the only thing you'll remember is my name."
Yes I would say we definitely have Rhys to thank.
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pastanest · 1 year
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if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post. I was able to retrieve this thanks to the very lovely friends who have relentlessly sifted through tumblr archives to recover them, thank you all so much!! ♡
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LOTR Characters - Falling Asleep With Him
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Thranduil
The Elven King prefers to sleep with his head on your chest or in the crook of your neck; he tells you that this is because he can only fall asleep when you are running your fingers through his hair, and this is true, but it is not his sole motive for this sleeping position - in his mind, sleeping on top of you provides you with added security against any potential attack. While he isnt paranoid about this, he is protective of you, and if he can provide you with further safety in any circumstance, he will. Thranduil believes that by lying on top of you, any attacker would quite literally have to go through him before they could get to you, and he is by no means against saving your life by sacrificing his own. He would rather you not know this, because if you did, you would not allow him to sleep on top of you ever again, but in truth, your motivations for wanting to sleep on him are the same. Considering he’s around 6’10”, he is considerably taller than you, and his body smothers yours in a way that is beyond comforting. Thranduil enjoys listening to your heartbeat, it soothes him greatly to feel you so close to him, to hear the very essence of your life force, and he has done well to attune himself to the beat of your heart; so much so, that he will often tease you by kissing your neck in order to feel your heart splutter frantically. Elves do not have much of a need for sleep, but this is not to say that they do not enjoy sleeping, and when it comes to the act of slumber, there is no better place to sleep than in the arms of a King who loves you.
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Legolas
Physical affection and various forms of intimacy are all unexplored areas for this Elf, and it will be up to you to introduce him to those when the two of you are ready. At first, falling asleep with Legolas is a little awkward, given that he is fully alert and his entire body rigid, because he doesnt quite know what to do with himself. He lies awake, watching your sleeping head rise and fall on his chest with a look of bewildered love in his eyes. After a few hours, he slowly wraps his arms around you, and in your sleep, you smile. Your reaction causes Legolas’ heart to skip a beat, and he is once again unsure of what to do next. He does not sleep that night, instead stays conscious and studies your sleeping movements, trying to learn the habits of your subconscious so that he can adjust himself to them. Over time, Legolas becomes progressively more comfortable, and even manages to fall asleep himself. His movements with you are careful and calculated, never wanting to disturb you or cause you discomfort. Legolas knows how important sleep is in keeping up your strength and preserving your health, so he makes sure you get enough sleep each night, and if anyone’s presence threatens to wake you, Legolas will not hesitate to request their exit in a hushed whisper and perhaps an icy glare if they are deserving of it.
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Frodo
Both during and after his adventures, Frodo is plagued by nightmares whenever he closes his eyes, and this has often resorted in him attempting to completely avoid sleep. More times than you can count, you have caught him desperately trying to keep his eyes open, his head lulling into unconsciousness for a fraction of a second before Frodo jerks himself awake again. It was during your time with him on his adventures, shortly after you’d met through the Fellowship requesting your assistance, that you offered your services to him. On the first occasion that you saw him trying to stay awake, you happened to be on watch, making you the only other member of the Fellowship that was awake with him. You recognised his struggle, the cause for his reluctance, and you sat down beside him, causing him to jump in surprise because he had been so focussed on keeping his eyes open that he hadnt seen you move. You wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him into your side, he naturally curled into you, but the poor hobbit was overcome with awkward hesitance. He smiled, feeling a warmth spread through his chest at your comforting gesture, and after a short conversation in which you promised to protect him in the land of dreams, Frodo allowed himself to drift into sleep. From that moment on, you were at his side the moment he showed signs of tiring, and throughout his adventures you were the only being that could calm his tormented soul into a peaceful slumber. He would either be tucked into your side, or resting his head on your chest, whatever position felt most comfortable each night, but always with your arms around him, and always with a soft smile on both of your faces. He wouldnt dare tell you, but from the first night you held him, you have appeared in his dreams and fought off all dark forces that swarmed him, and no existing words could express his gratitude for your existence.
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Samwise
Samwise Gamgee’s shyness got the best of him around you for a long time, you merely mentioning the prospect of cuddling was enough to enflame his cheeks and expect a stuttered response, and after a little while you decided that its best not to voice these things with Sam. Instead, you choose to casually initiate them. Whether it be holding his hand while in discussion with others, kissing his cheek whenever you had to leave his side, or resting your head on his shoulder as you sit around a campfire with the Fellowship, your actions without explanation left Sam flustered, but not hesitant, because by surprising him, you showed him that these actions were perfectly alright. This extended to falling asleep with him, too. You started slow, pretending to be asleep and subtly snuggling up to him, just to judge his reaction. Apparently, when you’re asleep the idea of affection is far less daunting to Sam, because he was quick to pull you into his arms and place a kiss on your forehead, and you could feel the smile on his lips. Considering how well that went, you decided to open your eyes and kiss him, revealing that you had been mischeviously pretending to sleep the entire time. Sam chuckled and shook his head as he blushed, but he seemed at ease, and after that his hesitance towards affection all but evaporated into thin air. He will adapt to whatever sleeping position you find most comfortable each evening, but you know that his favourite sleeping positions involve your head on his chest with one of your hands in his hair, and the other held tightly in his hand, and unless either of you are wounded to the extent of that position being uncomfortable for you, you will almost definitely wake up in that position every morning.
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Aragorn
The angsty King of romance is slow and tender with you in every area of your relationship (wink wonk), and falling asleep is no exception. Considering the sheer mass of occasions in which you have seen him almost die, it is no surprise that you value the moments spent in his arms, and Aragorn is very aware of this. He has heard your shallow, panicked breaths calm as soon as you feel his arms around you, his kiss on your forehead, his wordless reassurances that remind you he is still there, still breathing with you. No matter how wonderful your day with him as been, once you are in bed with him and the night is silent, you remember the nights you’ve fallen asleep sobbing into the sheets because someone has delivered you the news that Aragorn is dead, dead from some heroic deed, sacrificing his life for another, being the brave knight you knew he was, and that makes it so much harder to disbelieve every time. But every single time, Aragorn has returned to you, and you have felt your heart beat back to life at the sight of him. These memories haunt you, and your wounded heart can only be healed by feeling the beat of his. As a result, you often fall asleep with your palm or ear pressed to his chest, the sound of his heartbeat lulling you into a blissful sleep, his arms holding you tightly against him as his fingertips play with your hair or dance along your back. Sometimes, after long days spent apart, Aragorn will sing you to sleep with the most beautiful songs, some in languages that you dont understand, but all beautiful sounds regardless. Though you’ve never told him for fear of plaguing him with guilt, Aragorn knows your heart is splintered because of him, and he will lie awake every night with you in his arms, not allowing himself to fall asleep until he is certain you are already exploring your unconscious mind, and sometimes, just before he chooses to fall asleep, he will hold you just a little closer to him and kiss the top of your head, a single tear escaping his eyes as they close. A tear being a mixture of sadness for the pain he has caused you and the bliss at being able to hold you again, is the last telltale sign of Aragorn’s consciousness.
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javierpena-inatacvest · 8 months
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You're My Home
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Summary: You and Javi have both had one of those weeks where no matter how hard you try, nothing seems to go right. It only takes so long before something stupid makes the both of you snap. When Javi confesses to you what's been putting him on edge, you find a way to make it up to each other.
Word Count: 4.9K
Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no use of y/n)
Warnings: SMUT (18+), established relationship, unprotected p in v sex (wrap before u tap), vaginal fingering, creampie, angst, PTSD (poor Javi has a panic attack but you help him through it), hurt/comfort, makeup sex (!!!!), bad communication but apologizing/forgiving each other, mentions of food/eating, reader wears Javi's shirt and is carried by Javi, fluff fluff fluff bc you two are so in love with each other it hurts
This can be read as a stand alone or as a part of the It's Never Too Late Series!
A/N: I don't know what's been in the water that has me so compelled to make something angsty, but here we are!! Once I started writing this I quite literally could not stop, and it turned out to be one of the most intimate things I have ever written 😭🥺 I love these two sm
It had been a week. 
A long fucking week. 
One of those weeks where it felt like no matter how hard you tried, everything just felt… off. You had just started volunteering to run the Alma Pierce Elementary School drama club, which had you staying an extra hour and a half after school every Monday and Wednesday, on top of preparing for Parent-Teacher Conferences next week. You loved your group of students this year, but holy shit, were they chatty, and the past few days you felt like you might as well have put a cardboard cutout of yourself at the front of the room and left, because your class had absolutely zero interest in paying attention to you. To top it off, you could tell that Javi was having a bad week too. You hadn’t seen much of each other the past few days, with you working late and prepping for conferences, and Javi working on a new project the department had dropped in his lap without notice. Even though you lived in the same apartment, you had felt like strangers this week. Sure, you’d had off days before, but the two of you were always open and honest with each other, seeking comfort and safety in the other's presence, knowing that you were both there for one another, through good times, and bad. 
But this week was not like those “off” days. Something about it had felt tense, cold, even. You hated it. You hated every second of it. The two of you were never like this. Javi was your best friend, yet somehow, sitting in the same room, you still felt a million miles apart. Every interaction that you’d had left a worse taste in your mouth than the last- snapping at each other over stupid things like unclosed containers in the fridge or leaving towels on the bathroom floor. The worst was that Javi just could not seem to let things go, his presence feeling overbearing, almost bossy, with everything that you did. 
“You left the iron on while you were getting ready, you’re gonna burn down the fucking aparment.” 
“Double check the locks on the door, you forgot this morning.” 
“If you don’t fix the bath mat before you get in the shower, you’re gonna break your goddamn head open.” 
Even worse than that, when you tried to politely remind Javi about something, or do something helpful for him, he had been a complete asshole to you. 
“Yes, I can remember to clean it up after I’m done, I’m not fucking 8 years old.” 
“Jesus, I know we need more coffee creamer, you put it on the grocery list and reminded me twice.” 
“I can put away my own laundry, just let me do it.” 
It felt like he was breathing down your neck, the fly in your ear that just wouldn’t go away, and it made you want to scream. You had considered yourself to be a pretty patient person- working with kids, you had to be, but this week, Javier Peña seemed to be testing every ounce of patience you had left in your body, and you were about to run out.  
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Your Friday night routine with Javi normally consisted of the 3 same things every week
Javi picking up pizza from place down the street on the way home from work
Eating the pizza and watching a movie 
Pausing said movie to have sex, finish watching the movie, and then fall asleep on the couch. 
On this particular Friday, you had a very strong suspicion that none of those 3 things would be happening tonight. When you came home, you practically collapsed from exhaustion the moment you got through the door. Dropping your bag and kicking off your shoes, you crawled your way to the couch, completely collapsing in its cushions, taking a few deep breaths to try and regain your composure from the hellish day it had been. You finally mustered up enough strength to get up and change out of your work clothes into something more comfortable before sulking around the apartment, making yourself finish chores that had seemed to go neglected all week. Javi was normally home a half hour after you, but as you looked up at the clock, he was 20 minutes later than usual. It wasn’t long before another hour had gone by, leaving you absolutely starving, unable to wait for the dinner Javi may or may not be bringing home. You scavenged through your fridge and pantry, pulling out sauce and spaghetti to make yourself pasta to at least tide you over. 
When Javi got home two hours past his normal arrival, you were shocked by the smell of pizza that filled your apartment as he walked through the door. You were even more shocked by the reaction he had to seeing the pot of noodles you had left out on the stove while you sat at the kitchen table to finish report cards to hand out at conferences. 
“Did you already fucking eat?” His tone was sharp and brash as he dropped the pizza box on the kitchen counter. 
“Well you’re home two hours later than normal, Javi. What was I supposed to do? Not eat? I’m more than capable of fending for myself if you’re not here with pizza.” You could feel pressure in your stomach rising, clenching your fists to try and hold in the last bit of patience you had. 
“That’s not the fucking point. You know I always get pizza for us on Friday, you know I’m bringing you dinner, I can’t help that things have been a shit show at work and I’m still trying to at least do something to take care of you.” 
Take care of you? Nuh, uh. That was the last straw. 
You stood up out of your chair, palms flat on the table as you glared at Javi. “Take care of me? Seriously, Javi? Like I’m some sort of helpless little puppy that can’t fend for themself? I am more than fucking capeable of taking care of myself, and this whole week you have been acting like I am literally incapable of doing anything in this house. Listen, I can tell things have been shitty for you at work, and this week has sucked for me too, but every time I try to go do something nice for you, something to actually help take care of you? You’re already halfway down my goddamn throat, telling me to stop or fix whatever it is I’m doing.” Your heart was racing, blood pumping through your veins so intensely, you could feel your hands begin to shake. 
“Because it’s my fucking job to take care of you!” He growled, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers as you stood with your hands on your hips, laughing at him in the least humorous way possible. 
“Your job? Your fucking job? You don’t think I’m capable of taking care of myself? That’s fucking great. So you can take care of me, but I can’t take care of you? Yeah, that makes sense. Un-fucking-believeable. I don’t know what the fuck has been going on with you this past week, but I can’t do this right now. I’m going on a fucking run.” You stormed to the door, throwing on your shoes as you white knuckled your keys in your grasp. 
“You fucking hate running!” Javi yelled, clenching his jaw before burying his hands in his face. 
“I don’t fucking care!” You grunted back, deliberately slamming the door behind you as you sauntered down the stairs of your apartment to the parking lot. Javi was right, there was no physical activity you hated more than running. You weren’t really sure what your plan was, just that you couldn’t stand there fighting with Javi anymore. You could feel the adrenaline flowing through you, enough to make you pick up your feet and actually begin sprinting down the sidewalk. You just kept running. Running until you could feel your sides begin to hurt, until your eyes began to sting from the tears welling behind them, until your chest felt like it was collapsing in on you, making you stop in the middle of the cement pathway in a full on breakdown. You could barely catch your breath, sobbing, as your hands dropped to your knees, your body trembling with each pathetic whimper. 
What the fuck were you doing? Why was Javi being like this? Why were you being like this? Why won’t he just talk to you? Why can you just not make things right? Why was the one person you loved more than anything in the world the one who was making you feel like you’d been run over by a semi-truck? 
Wiping your tears and snot with your sleeve, you took a deep breath and turned around to head home, determined to get to the bottom of whatever was causing you to both suffer through the worst week ever.
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“Javi?” You peeked into the apartment, your voice barely above a whisper. 
“What?” He answered, his voice still sharp, making you wince as you walked over to the couch where he sat. 
“Javi… Javi what’s going on? I can’t do this anymore. If I did something to make you mad, I’m sorry, I just-” 
“Fucking work has just been a shit show, okay?” He snapped, cutting off your sentence. “I’m going to bed, I’m fucking exhausted.” He sighed as he got up, storming his way down the hallway, leaving you there alone on the couch, your bottom lip quivering as the tears began to stream down your face again, leaving you in a silent, sobbing heap on the couch. 
You waited a while before getting into bed with Javi, entering your bedroom in its already dark state to avoid crossing paths while the two of you finished your nighttime routines. You crawled into your comforter, eyes still red and puffy as you lay back to back with Javi, without so much as even a good night, let alone, an “I love you.” 
You could feel yourself stirring, tossing and turning in your sleep as you rolled over, outstretching your arm to an unfamiliarly empty space. You turned over to face Javi, now finding yourself wide awake at the fact that he wasn’t there next to you. Immediately, you shot up, calling out his name as you got out of bed, wondering where the hell he was. As you made your way into the hallway, you whispered his name once more before hearing the sounds of heavy, labored breathing coming from the living room. You rushed in, finding Javi sitting on the floor, his hand grasping at his chest with a look of pure panic on his face. 
“I feel like… Fuck, I feel like I can’t breathe. My heart is beating so fast.” He whimpered between his shaky breathing and sobs. “I just- I just kept seeing it over and over again in my head and I woke up and it still wouldn’t go away. Every when I wake up, it’s like it’s fucking haunting me. I feel like something’s crushing my chest. Baby, what’s happening?” He gasped as he looked up at you, helpless and desperate.  
Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. You knew exactly what was happening. 
Immediately, you climbed into his lap, wrapping yourself around him as tightly as possible, stretching your arms as widely as you could around the broadness of his body. You tried to slow your breathing down, taking long inhales and exhales as you held him. “Just breathe, baby. It’s okay. You’re safe, I promise. I’m here. Deep breaths, okay?” 
“Osita, I can’t- Fuck. Fuck, fuck.” His voice was trembling, each word low and labored as he grasped at the back of his shirt you had draped over your back. 
“I know, baby. I know. I know it’s scary. I promise that you’re safe. I’m here, okay? Just breathe. In and out. I’m not leaving. You’re safe with me, I promise it will be okay.” Even though your heart was shattering, you did everything you could to be the calm in his storm, whispering your reassurances in your soft, sweet voice. Slowly but surely, you could feel the intensity of his breaths lessen, the rising and falling of his chest easing as he grasped tighter at your shirt, pulling you closer to him. 
“It’s okay, Javi. It’s okay. Listen, I’m gonna ask you to do something, alright? It’s gonna sound stupid but it’s gonna help.” You could feel him nod against your chest, his sobs finally beginning to slow. “Can you open your eyes and tell me 5 things you see?” You felt him lift his head, looking up at you, his face wet and red as his deep brown eyes locked with yours.
“Fuck, um, the- the wall, the carpet, the uh, um, the couch, shit, the TV, you. I can see you.” 
“Okay, perfect. What about 4 things you can touch, like feel in your hands?” You smiled gently at him as his breathing was now at a near normal rate. He raised up his arm, wiping his damp face with his palm. 
“My fucking wet face.” The both of you smirked, bringing you relief that Javi was already half laughing. “The carpet, my shirt, that always looks better on you than it does on me. Fuck, I can feel your skin, it’s always so soft. I love feeling it.” He ran one of his hands along the bare skin of your thigh, his fingers grasping at your flesh. 
“You’re doing great, baby. How about 3 things you can hear?” 
“Um, the cars outside, the fan, I could feel your heartbeat when I was on your chest.” He pressed his head back against you, raking your fingers through the ends of his damp curls, sticking to his forehead from his panicked sweat. 
Okay, almost done. What about 2 things you can smell?” You asked, running your fingers along the nape of his neck. 
“Your shirt smells like laundry. No matter how hard I try it just always smells better when you do it. And your shampoo. It always smells so sweet and fruity, it’s my favorite.” He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his hand gently tugging at the ends of your hair, twisting his fingers through it. 
“Okay, last one. Something you can taste.” He lifted his head, looking at you as he slid the hand in your hair to cradle your jaw, cupping your face. 
“You.” He rasped, his lips barely pressing against yours, feeling the hot breaths between your mouths as they met. He pulled back, pausing for a moment before he spoke. “Baby…I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. This week has been all my fault. I’m so sorry I didn’t say anything. It’s been so long since I’ve felt like this and I was scared. I was so fucking scared.” 
“Javi, it’s okay. Please, I just want to be here for you. You know you can tell me anything, okay? I love you, Javi. I love you more than anything. I know it hurts to talk about the things that scare you the most, but it’s even scarier watching the person you love hurt so badly and not knowing what to do to help them. I don’t care what it is, baby. There’s nothing you can tell me that’s gonna scare me away.” The look on his face nearly broke you. You could tell he was so hurt. Hurt by whatever had been haunting him. Hurt by the fact he wasn’t okay. Hurt by the fact that he had hurt you. 
“The project I’ve been working on this week… It all started because of how bad things are getting across the border in Mexico. A mom was out with her kids and they were all shot in a hit and run accident between two people making a drug trade. It was only an hour from here. I watched so many people do so many fucked up things that I thought I would never have to worry about again once I got home. And even if I did, I was going to be the only person I needed to worry about. But I couldn’t stop imagining that mom with her kids was you. You and our future kids. Every night since that fucking case file got set on my desk, I wake up to the same fucking nightmare of me running down the street, trying to grab you, push you, do anything to get you out of the way, but every fucking night I’m never fast enough. All I can do is watch as that bullet goes through you and you fall to the ground. I can’t let it happen to you. What if something goes wrong and I can’t protect you? I couldn’t fucking live with myself. I just want to keep you safe Osita. I’m so sorry. I love you too much to lose you.” 
Fuck. 
It wasn’t long before you were crying with him, squeezing him tightly once again, pressed against the warmth of his bare chest. That’s what had been going on. That’s why he had been so overbearing. That’s why he hadn’t been the Javi that you’d known and loved this week. On the night he’d told you the worst of the things he had seen and done away in Colombia, you had seen how his eyes had filled with regret, remorse, even anger. But this was different. Never once in the time that you’d known him had you seen Javi so scared. The look in his eyes when you found him sitting on the floor was one of pure terror. You couldn’t imagine what it would be like, waking up night after night to the image of Javi slipping away, let alone coming to grips with the reality that you couldn’t even fathom, and he knew far too well. Javi knew you had no problem sticking up for yourself. You were strong, tough, and fiercely independent- those were all things he loved so much about you. But those things weren’t enough to protect you from the dangers that haunted his past, or the terrifying reality of the present. 
Through the silent cries of your sobs, you felt Javi’s hand under your chin, lifting your head to force your eyes to meet. “Osita, I’m so sorry. Pease, please forgive me. I’ve been so lost in my own world this week because I’ve been so scared about what could happen to you. I had my head so far up my own ass that I thought I was doing everything I could to try and keep you safe in any way that I could, and instead I’ve just been a fucking dick to the person I care about more than anything in the world. I don’t wanna fight anymore, I fucking hate it. I’m so fucking sorry.” 
You draped your arms around his neck, your fingers tracing small, gentle circles along his back as you stared back at him. “I didn’t know, Javi. I didn’t know you were so scared. I’m so sorry. I don’t wanna fight anymore either. This has been the shittiest week. I missed you. I missed my best friend.” He pressed his hand against the back of your head, cradling it in his palm as he hugged you tightly. “You just have to promise me something, okay?” 
“Anything. Anything, baby.” 
“You have to promise me that you can’t keep all of this in. You have to promise me you’ll talk to someone about it. Me, your dad, people at work, Steve, a therapist, someone. There are so many people who care so much about you who just wanna help. You’re the strongest person I know, Javi, but it’s okay to not be strong sometimes.” He let out a long, shaky breath, darting his eyes down at the ground, the Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed. “You promise me?” You asked again, grabbing his face in your hands, swiping your thumb along his wet cheeks. 
“I promise.” 
In that moment, it was like the two of you could feel something in the air change. The tension lifting, the frustrated fog fading, the both of you desperately needing the other to know how sorry you were for the way you had acted. You found yourself face to face, eyes closing as your mouths came together in the most gentle, tender kiss. But even as your parted lips barely pressed against one another, you could practically feel how desperate you both were. 
“I love you.” 
Even though you whispered it against the soft, unshaven stubble of Javi’s cheek, it feels like you’re screaming it, determined to make sure he hears those 3 words as they fall from your lips, that he knows how much you mean each one, every second of every hour of every day. You can feel the heat in your chest as his hands grasp around the small of your back, pulling you closer as your bodies melt together, the tension straining in your muscles dissipating with each second he pulls you closer. 
“I love you too.” 
It felt like suddenly, all was right with the world again. The Javi you knew and loved had come back, returning home to you. All of the fear and sadness was replaced by a rampant desperation to know how much you needed him, almost as much as he needed to show you how desperately he craved you, too. The tingle built at the base of your spine as his fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt, his hand creeping further up your belly, pressing against the curves of your sides. You raised your arms as his fists balled up the worn fabric, carefully lifting it over your head as his hot breath ran against your neck, leaving gentle, tender kisses along your newly exposed skin. Your hands pressed against his hips, tugging at the waistband of his cotton sleep shorts as he locked his arms under your legs, bringing you both to stand as you wrapped your legs around the small of his back, the skin of your bare chests brushing against each other as he carried you toward the bedroom. Each kiss of your parted lips was like a plea, begging that the other would forgive you, that despite the way you had treated each other there was no one in the world that you loved more, that you would rather be with right here, right now. 
Crossing the threshold to the bedroom, Javi leaned his body over the mattress, carefully placing you down in the warm, tangled sheets of your bed that had felt so cold and harsh only a few hours ago. You looked up at Javi standing at the end of the bed as he nudged his shorts off of his hips, leaving him exposed, the clothes now pooling around his ankles. Crawling over you, he hooked his fingers around the waistband of your underwear, the only thing left on your body after your shirt had been left behind in the living room. You lifted your hips, helping him shuffle the fabric down your legs as he ran his hands along the meat of your thighs. He leaned over you, the temples of your foreheads pressed against each other as his fingers danced along the skin of your bare legs, barely grazing against your entrance. You could already feel the slick of your arousal pooling under his touch, the calloused pads of his fingers ever so gently tracing up and down your folds, making you shutter. 
“Javi... Please.” Your voice trembled as Javi nodded, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You gasped as you felt the thickness of his fingers heedfully pushing themselves inside you, arching your back against the bed as his thumb delicately pressed on your clit. Each thrust of his hand in and out of your heat was dragging and deliberate, the rubbing of his fingertip along your sensitive bundle of nerves making your moans muffled against his chest. Every touch of his hand made you feel better than the last, but there was something primal about the way that you needed him inside you, how you ached to feel him buried deep in heat, to feel every inch of him. “I need you. Please, I need you.” You whimpered against his skin, making him lift his head to look at you as you watched the chocolate brown of his eyes grow darker with lust. He worked in silence, removing his fingers as he stroked himself, making your cunt throb in anticipation as you felt the tip of his cock stroke along your entrance, a moan escaping from your parted lips as he guided himself inside you. 
“Fuck…” He whispered, pushing himself in further, inch by inch, before bottoming out, his tip bumping against your cervix. You wrapped your legs around his back, doing anything you could to bring him closer to you, trying to melt your bodies into one and hold him so tightly you could never let him float away again. You dug your nails into his muscular back as he began to thrust in and out of you, taking his time with each stroke, as if he was savoring every sweet moment. “I love you, Osita. I love you so much, baby. Gonna make you feel good, okay? I promise.” It was like you could feel his words with each stroke, the promise that had fallen from his lips burying itself deep inside you with every rock of his hips against yours. Your bedroom was filled with the sounds of your mixed moans and skin hitting against each other. Even when no words escaped from your mouths, it was almost as if you could hear each other through the sounds between the two of you, coating your walls. 
I love you. 
I need you. 
I’m so sorry. 
His palm pressed along the sheen of your skin, snaking down your body to rub against your clit, intensifying the throbbing that you already felt growing between your legs. With each thrust of his hips, his cock pounded deeper into your heat, hitting the spot within you that had the arousal beginning to pool intensely within your belly, that creeping familiar feeling building at the base of your spine. You dug your nails deeper into Javi’s skin, grasping for the damp curls at the nape of his neck, your whimpers growing louder and more desperate with each stroke as you could feel yourself beginning to crumble beneath him. 
“Javi, pleaseee. Bab-ahhhhh, I’m so close.” You felt your cunt begin to clench around his length, making him moan as each push and pull of hips became more intense, punching against your g-spot and making your writhe under his touch.
“I know you are, Hermosa. Cum for me baby, cum all over me and show me how you’re mine.” 
His words make something inside you snap, making you shake and your body tense as your arms and legs tightened their grip around Javi, crying out his name as your orgasm rushed through you. His lips met yours, swallowing your moans as his pumps became frantic and sloppy, only taking a few more before he was chasing his own high. “Fuck, baby. You’re so fucking perfect. Te amo más que a nada. Soy tyuo para siempre. (I love you more than anything, I’m yours, forever.). Fuck, I’m gonna- shit- I’m- ahhhhhhh” With one last push, you could feel him throbbing inside you, spilling against your walls, pumping every last drop of himself inside you as he slumped into your body, your hearts racing, chests rising and falling as one. The two of you laid there for a moment, your bodies tangled in each other, letting each of your breaths sync as you came down from your blissed out highs. Javi hissed as he turned over to pull out of you, making you whine at the loss, before rolling over to lay your head on his chest. You could feel his arm wrap around you to pull you in closer, his fingers tracing along your shoulder blade as you draped your arm across his stomach. 
“I guess that’s one way to make up for this shitty week.” You giggled as Javi shook his head, joining you, the both of you glad to hear the sweet sounds of each other's laughter for the first time in much too long. “Can we never do this again? I never wanna fight like that ever again. These last few days have sucked without you.” 
“Never. This was the fucking worst. Never again. I promise.” He kissed the top of your head, burying his nose in your messy curls as he held you just a little bit tighter. 
“Okay.” You smiled against his warm, tanned skin before looking up at him. “You wanna know the worst part?” 
“What, baby?” 
“I didn’t even get to eat any of that pizza.” Javi chuckled as he shook you playfully in his grasp, making you squirm and snicker as he held you. 
“There’s still some left in the fridge. Let me go get it and you can tell me all about your week, okay?” He kissed your forehead as he pushed himself out of bed, making his way to the door. 
“Okay. We’ve got a lot to catch up on, I didn’t even get to tell you how I had to call Mark’s mom in the middle of math because he stuck a crayon up his nose yesterday.” The both of you snorted as Javi looked back at you. 
“I can’t wait to hear all about it.” 
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imthegayone · 8 months
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The Goliath
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Summary: Roller coasters were never your favorite but when your girlfriend wants you to ride one, how can you say no?
Warnings: mentions of anxiety of riding roller coaster, passing out on a roller coaster, and not the best writing
Author's Notes: I'm very new to writing, but @wol-fica asked for this and tho someone said they had it covered I wanted to give it a try :) I've also never been on the Goliath but I looked up a video and its a hard no for me. But I hope you enjoy and I hope your next cup of hot coco is exacty how you like it 🩵
(p.s. I'm also kinda new to crushing on Jenna so if she's a bit ooc I'm sorry)
Word Count: 892
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When you suggested a trip to Six Flags with Jenna and her sisters, you imagined odd food and maybe a ride on the Wave Swinger. Not a ride that was so tall it struck fear into you the second you laid eyes on it. The Goliath, the name alone made you wanna speed walk in the other direction. Towards the food stand with tables to share a huge plate of funnel cakes with your loving girlfriend. 
The same loving girlfriend that was leading you to the long line of people waiting to experience the thrill of having their hearts jump into their throats. Maybe you were being a little dramatic but the impending doom you felt as you listened to the people scream at the steep drop overpowered any other thought. You were terrified, but the clear excitement Jenna was feeling made you believe that you could be brave enough for her. 
However, as the line shortened and the ride grew taller, you began to question why you agreed to risk your life. “Thank you, I know rides aren’t your favorite.” Jenna whispered as she leaned closer to you so no one else could hear. She knew that you were only doing this to make her happy and the way she looked up at you made you realize just how much you’d to achieve just that. 
“I just hope your sisters don’t realize how sweating my palms are.” You whispered back earning a chuckle as you wiped your hands down your pants for the 100th time. The feeling of her hand slipping into yours brought your attention away from the ride and back to her. A smile making its way across her face that made your heart quicken from something other than fear. 
The moment was broken as the teenager controlling the ride motion for your group to get on. You were feeling confident as love for your girlfriend surged through you but as the safety bar lowered to your chest all confidence you gained disappeared. Jenna grabbed your hand again, gaining a scared but grateful smile from you. 
Creaking as the cart started its journey on the track to the steep incline and your quickened heartbeat was all you could hear. The desperate prayer that the torturous wait would be quick was never answered. The slow trek up the incline felt like hours, the suspense making you nauseous. 
Reaching the peak you closed your eyes tight, the grip on Jenna’s hand turning ironclad. “Oh, fuck.”. 
_______________
Your hands were still shaking as you entered your shared apartment. Your feet mindlessly taking you towards the couch. As you plop down onto the cushions you think you hear the sound of the kettle being put on the stove and cabinets being opened but think nothing of it. 
After a few minutes of staring blankly at the wall you see Jenna enter the living room with two mugs in hand and a hesitant smile. “Hi baby, I made you some hot chocolate.” Placing the mug into your hands she gives you a kiss on your forehead and settles in next to you. You take a sip of your drink, the warmth of her and the chocolate grounding you. 
“Thanks, J.” You sent a smile her way as her free hand played with the baby hairs at the back of your neck. All of the sudden the memories of the last hour come rushing back making you groan. 
“Do you think Aliyah will post that video of me.. passing out?” Jenna chuckles but it dies as she sees you frowning. “She won’t.” The reassurance falls flat as she tries to hide her growing smile as your checks redden. “Oh my god she will!” You place your mug down on the coffee table and cover your face with your hands even more embarrassed than the moment it happened. 
The laugh she was trying to cover up bubbled out as she gently grasped your wrist pulling your hands away. “Baby please, it’s gonna be okay, I promise.” You knew there was more by the look in her eyes. You were gonna kill Aliyah, or at least beg Natalie to give you some embarrassing baby pictures of her in revenge. 
“She might've already put it on her story, only on close friends though.” 
“Oh god. I’m never living this down am I?” The responding laugh was enough to know you were doomed to have that video haunt you for the rest of your life. 
“Look at it this way, now you're truly part of the family. We all have some embarrassing things over each other. You saw the post my mom made when she learned I smoked.” That pulled a chuckle from you, remembering just how embarrassed Jenna was when she read it. She swore she wasn’t leaving the house ever again. 
“See I made it through so everythings gonna be okay!” Jenna says with a smile, pulling you into her until your head is resting on her chest and your body lays between her legs. Your hand slips under her shirt to feel even more of her comforting warmth against you. A hum escapes you both when she wraps her arms around your shoulder and kisses the top of your head. 
“Thank you for trying the ride for me Y/n, even though the Goliath took you out.”
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