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#I have high hopes for the movie to give me Them interactions
gigabyte-flare · 9 months
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The Dark of You
(A Gigabyte Flare One Shot)
Summary: Leon S. Kennedy returns home to you from an assignment in San Francisco in desperate need to relieve some tension
Word Count: 1.5k
Pairing: Death Island!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)
Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.
CONTAINS DEATH ISLAND SPOILERS
Warnings: sex (p in v), age gap (reader is 26), very mild angst, choking, degradation, pet names, breeding kink
A/N: This is 5000% self indulgent. I cannot, for the life of me, get Death Island!Leon out of my head since watching the movie. The title is inspired by Dark of You by Breaking Benjamin
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“Fade away to the wicked world we left,
And I become the dark of you.”
The anticipation is killing you. About an hour ago Leon had let you know he landed in D.C. and is on his way back home. He had been on an assignment in San Francisco, he didn’t say what for, he never disclosed any of his assignments to you. He insisted it was to protect you. You have been sitting on the couch, watching TV as you wait for Leon to come home but fatigue is starting to get the better of you, so you decide to turn off the TV and go to bed. A small inkling of guilt ate at you; you wanted to greet him when he got home.
Walking into the bedroom, you pull back the covers, slipping beneath them and getting yourself comfortable. You fall asleep within minutes; that’s not like you. Your constant worry for Leon clearly exhausted you. You’re suddenly awoken by the feeling of someone kissing the crook of your neck, an unshaven face scratching at yours. You recognize the cologne and his masculine scent immediately.
“Mmmm… there you are, Leon…” you say softly as you’re pulled from your slumber. 
“I hit traffic on the way home, I hope I didn’t worry you,” Leon replies, his voice still muffled by your neck.
“When am I not worried about you?” you ask, turning your body to face him.
You immediately notice he looks ragged and exhausted, with dark bags under his ocean eyes and his hair slightly disheveled. He is still wearing his combat vest over his dark gray t-shirt and his blue leather jacket over that. 
“You look like hell.”
“I feel like hell, I think my age is starting to catch up to me, love,” he says, bending down to kiss your forehead.
“Stop talking like you're 80, you’re only 38, you’re not old.” you tease, playfully punching one of his biceps. 
For some reason, unknown to you, Leon was very self conscious about the age gap between you two. You can’t count how many times you reassured him that his age didn’t matter to you, that the 12 year gap between you didn’t bother you; you’ve been seeing him for almost a year.
“It’s not like you started dating me out of high school, you’re not a creep!” you recall telling him constantly. 
He smirks at you, running a hand through your hair, “I’m going to hit the shower, I’ll be right out.”
You nod at him, watching as he goes into the adjacent bathroom, not bothering to shut the door behind him. You listen as he turns on the shower and you can hear the sound of his clothing hitting the floor. You let out a deep sigh of relief, grateful that he’s home and safe. Even though he didn’t talk about his work with you, you knew one thing for certain.
His job is dangerous. 
You watch as Leon comes out of the bathroom, a pair of light gray sweats barely hanging onto his hips as he dries his hair with a towel, giving you a beautiful view of his ‘happy trail.’ Tossing the towel aside, he fixes his damp hair with his hands before climbing into bed with you, immediately wrapping you in his arms, nuzzling his face into your hair as he breathes deeply. You feel him kiss your hair over and over, like he couldn’t get enough of you.
“I’m so glad you’re home, Leon,” you tell him, snuggling into his embrace.
“Me too,” Leon replies, “I… I almost didn’t make it back…”
“What?” you look up at him, sitting up, your eyes full of concern.
You can tell by Leon’s pained expression that he was struggling on whether or not to tell you what happened. You watch him sigh and he clears his throat.
“I got infected with a virus--”
“What?! Do we need to get you to a hospital? I can take you!” You panic, throwing the blankets off you as you start to climb out of bed, but one of Leon’s strong hands grab your upper arm, stopping you.
“Babe, I’m fine… I got vaccinated, I’m not infected anymore. It’s… actually not the first time that’s happened.”
You tuck yourself back under the blankets, laying your head back down on the pillow as you continue to listen to Leon.
Leon lets out a soft chuckle, “if I had a nickel each time I’ve been infected with something… I’d have two nickels.”
You can’t help but laugh, even though hearing this from him made you worry more, but you don’t say anything and let him continue.
“I know that’s not a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice.”
You shake your head, cupping his face in your hands and kiss him as you’re laughing. 
“Unfortunately, there was one casualty,” he says, his lips still pressed against yours.
You pull back, raising an eyebrow at him.
“The bike got wrecked…”
“Oh sweetheart,” you coo, running your fingers through his hair, “I’m so sorry, I know you loved that bike.”
“It’s alright, if I had to choose between the bike and coming back home safely to you, I’d pick you. Every time.”
In an instant, one of his hands grasps the back of your head, pulling you to him to kiss you ravenously. His tongue makes its way into your mouth, dancing with yours as he lets out a low growl. He climbs on top of you, pinning you to the bed as his hands work to pull off your underwear, tossing them aside as he continues to kiss you vigorously.
Meanwhile, your hands are working to get his sweatpants off him, finally getting them pulled down when he kicks them off. His hands grasp at the front of your tank top, ripping it apart to expose your breasts. His hands grasp at them as you pull off the remnants of the tank top, tossing it aside off the side of the bed to join your underwear. Before you know it, he’s manhandling you, getting you on all fours on the bed, positioning himself behind you as he wraps his left arm around your neck as he uses the other to position his hard member against your thoroughly soaked cunt. He pulls back, choking you with his arm but not enough to outright strangle you; a favorite position of yours, admittedly. You love it when he’s rough with you. 
“You want this old man’s cock, don’t you, pretty girl?” he growls in your ear, his hot breath on your ear sending chills down your spine, straight to your aching hole. 
“Y-Yes!” you manage to reply, gasping for air as his arm gives your neck a nice squeeze. 
“Of course you do, you dirty slut.”
You feel Leon bully his cock into your leaking entrance, your fingers curling and gripping the sheets as he begins to pound into you with vicious ferocity. His right hand grips your hip like a vice; that’s going to leave a bruise later. He lets out a half moan, half growl as you feel him adjust his position, getting on one knee to get a better angle to fuck into you as deep and as hard as he possibly could.
“F-Fuck! Too… too much!” you manage to say, his arm still squeezing your neck.
“You can take it, baby, I know you can,” he purrs, thrusting even harder into you, “gonna breed this pretty little kitty.”
His words make your clit throb and your walls tighten around his cock, causing you to cry out. With one of your hands, you reach between your legs, rubbing your aching clit with your index and middle finger, making your body tremble. Leon picks up on this immediately, chuckling in your ear.
“Oh? You like that? You want this old man’s cum? You want me to fuck a baby into you?”
Your cunt squeezes around him again as you nod, moaning as he picks up the pace of his thrusts. He leans over you, kissing the side of your neck before giving you several hickies as he pushes his hips deep inside you, the head of his dick kissing your cervix, filling you with a sense of euphoria, your arms reach up and gripping the arm still wrapped around your neck. 
“Leon… I’m.. I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum…!”
“Good… such a good little slut you are,” he growls, giving you a playful bite on your earlobe.
After a few more powerful thrusts, he pushes himself as deep inside you as he possibly could go and you feel the burning warmth of his release as you come undone on him. Gasping, tears of relief stream down your face. Leon stays inside you for a few minutes as both of you catch your breath, having removed his arm from your neck. Eventually, he pulls himself out of you, hooking your waist with one of his arms and pulling you back so that he could cuddle with you. You give each other gentle, tired kisses until you both eventually fall asleep in each other's arms.
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Dustin’s Hot Sister
It’s been a minute hasn’t it 😂 I’m trying to get back into writing so here’s this little blurb that kinda sucks but I hope y’all like it. I’m currently in my Eddie Munson Brain Rot era so you know I had to write something for him. Feel free to send in request for Eddie Munson!
Pairing: Eddie Munson x female Reader
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“There’s no way you have a hot sister that works here.” Eddie leaned on the wheel, gesturing with a tilt of his head to the neon sign that read Family Video. Dustin wrinkled his nose at Eddie in response, arms crossed over his chest.
“I do too have a sister that works here. And I never said she was hot and it’s weird that you’re saying it.” Dustin countered, getting out of the van and slamming the door before he could respond.
Eddie shrugged, turning off his van and jumping out. He did a little jog around the front of the van to keep up with the quick pace that the younger boy had set. “All I’m saying is Mike told me she was hot and I normally wouldn’t take his word for it but Harrington confirmed it when Mike mentioned her. And the Harrington Hottest scale is the one thing I trust about him.”
Dustin rolled his eyes. “Yeah whatever, she graduated when you were supposed to graduate two years ago, so if you look in your yearbook you could find her instead of dragging me here to prove it to you.”
“First off you know I don’t buy yearbooks, waste of money and paper.” Eddie pulled open the door the the video store, doing a slight bow and muttering a m’lord as he gestured for Dustin to enter first. Who in turn gave Eddie the finger as he pushed past him. “Second this seems like more fun.” Although Dustin’s comment had him thinking about it he had met his sister before without realizing it.
Sure enough there was a girl who wasn’t Robin talking to Harrington behind the counter, she was laughing at something he had said. Her back was to them but it seemed that Dustin recognized her anyway, he sauntered up to the counter and hoped over despite the chiding from Steve not to do so durning store hours.
You raised an eyebrow at Dustin who rummaged through your return bin, looking yet again for the vhs copy of Never Ending Story, which for the past three weeks had been unreturned. “Motherfucker.” Dustin cursed, kicking the box.
“Hey dude watch your fucking language.” Steve scolded. “This is called Family video.”
Dustin stood back up pointing an accusatory finger at Steve. “When are you going to use your Family Store Employee privilege to find the guy who had rented Never Ending Story way past the store policy time. Me and Suzy need it for movie night! I’ve had to cancel twice!”
Steve raised in hands up in defense. “Hey man I’m not the only one who works here, get your sister to do it.”
“She won’t do it. I’ve already asked her.”
“So what makes you think pestering me into doing it will make me do it?” Steve scoffed, arms crossed.
“Cause you’re soft, and if I annoy you enough you’ll give me your password to the computer so I can do it myself.” Steve began to argue with Dustin, and you laughed watching their amusing interaction until Dustin paused and turned to you. “By the way that’s Eddie.” That was all he said before continuing his argument with Steve.
Your turned around to see who Dustin was referencing and when he caught your gaze Eddie’s heart nearly gave out. He couldn’t believe that Dustin’s hot sister had been his four year high school crush. You had been in the journalist club and had done a story in the hellfire club for the school newspaper your freshman year. You had sat in on one of his campaigns, his hands were shaking so much that he knocked over the screen and scattered his notes on the floor. Thank goodness that was before Henderson and Mike had joined, they never would have let him live it down.
But ever since then he had had the biggest crush on you, although he never had much interaction with you after that, it wasn’t like you ignored him you still said hi in the halls but he never had the guts to ask you out or to join his campaign. And it seemed after all these years he was still as nervous as he was when you interviewed him freshman year.
“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” You beamed, recognizing Eddie at once. “If it isn’t Eddie Munson, the leader of Hellfire.”
He swallowed thickly and tried his best to play it cool, giving a little bow and a wink. “At your service.” He looked up to still see you smiling at him, he was pretty sure his face was red and sweaty. You continued to smile him and he gathered a little courage to get closer to the counter.
“What can I help you with today.” You asked. “Are you looking to check something out today.”
“I think he already is.” Dustin mumbled, earning a loud laugh from Steve and a glare from Eddie.
Eddie turned back to you. “No I’m just here driving this kid around, he wanted to go to Family Video and who am I to deny a fellow club member a ride-“
“Ha!” Dustin interrupted. “He made me come here to prove to him that I had a hot sister.” Dustin paused rethinking his phrasing. “His words not mine.”
“Why you little-“ Eddie cussed, hands reaching up ready to stranger Dustin before he though better of it, setting instead for a your dead signal.
You laughed, feeling your face get warm. “Is that so?”
Eddie looked down at his hands, fiddling with the rings that decorated them. “And what if it was?” He asked, looking up at you through his bangs.
“Then I’d ask you if you’d be taking me out this Friday or Saturday.”
“I’d say Saturday, we could go see The Lost Boys at the movies.” Eddie gained some of his confidence back, looking you in the eyes now but hiding the bottom half of his face with a piece of his hair, an action you found quite cute
“Then it’s a date.” You smiled, hugging yourself with your arms. Eddie smiled widely, his nose wrinkling up, and you could feel yourself getting giddy, finally landing a date with Eddie. One you had been dreaming about since high school.
Dustin watched your two from the sidelines with Steve, face scrunched up. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
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ajortga · 4 months
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the forgotten letter
pairing: tara carpenter x fem reader
a/n- ahh guys it's finally here! probably one of the longest word count story i've done with around 6k words, but yes! for the people who voted on my poll, i did both angst and happy ending<3. i hope you enjoy!
thank you for 100 followers, i guess this is a special!
-
You think you loved Tara for as long as you could remember.
Well, years later, you think you loved her ever since you laid eyes on her, if you knew what love meant.
It was like a click, a connection, the kind of love you didn't even know was real out of movies.
But it was, it all was when you met Tara.
You had met her in second grade, well, you could say a year after. How could you forget that every day, you were on the swings, and the only reason was to be able to see Tara eating at the same table with her lunch box without being caught staring. You always looked at the sky when she turned, sometimes you would make eye contact and she'd give you the sweetest smile that made you kick your feet and giggle till you fell asleep with a smile on your face two nights in a row.
You were always a shy soul when it came to making conversations with strangers, especially someone as beautiful as Tara, with her wavy, long hair that seemed to always be perfect. A little messy? You wouldn't dare to say that, one small messy hair is like realizing how it complimented the girl you thought was perfect enough. Her dark brown eyes seemed to have stars in them, you loved stars. 
The first time you made an interaction, it was the same procedure, lunch-time bell rings, your classmates squeal, you all run out, and you make your way to the second swing that was next to the lunch tables. Then you'd wait and wait, till you saw her, then you'd swing, even though you weren't very good, you only got a foot high at most times. 
Usually, when you would swing, your friends would be there, but when you told them about Tara, and how you said, "I think she's very very very pretty." They all laughed, saying "ewwwwww.." They kind of left you by yourself on the swings from then forward.
You were sad, but that didn't stop you from always looking at her. 
Tara noticed, you were staring at your feet, swinging lowly and she felt bad, she didn't like strangers, but she always saw you, it was like you were friends. So she abandoned her lunch box and walked over to you. 
"Hi.. Do you want me to help swing you? My sissy Sam taught me some ways so you could swing higher! I can push you if you want!"
You looked up at her mouth open as they quickly turned into a wide smile, Tara thought it was cute. 
"Yes please! I-I don't know how to swing very high.."
She giggled, shaking her head as she approached closer behind you, where the handles were, "I know, every day you are here and every time, I see you swing and swing! But your friends.. They aren't here. Are they absent?"
You shook your head, a little pout showing, "No.. They.." You didn't know what to say, and as much as you wanted to lie.. You couldn't to this girl that made you smile. "I come here and see you every day, and I always want to talk to you, but I feel weird and not comfy when I try talking to people I don't know very well. My mommy says it's called being shy. I think you are very pretty. My friends don't like when people say that. They say it's yucky. So now I'm a little lonely."
Tara looked surprised, but it quickly turned into a small smile, tilting her head, "You think I'm pretty?"
You nod your head up and down, "I think you are very pretty, I see these stars in your eyes that no one else has, I think it's cool."
She smiles, happily, "I think you're very pretty too! Wow! I never been called pretty! Thank you! Wow!"
You turn to her and give her a smile you never knew existed, it looked so happy, "Thank you!"
"My name is Tara by the way. Tara Carpenter!"
"I'm Y/N! Y/N Y/L/N! That name fits you.. Tara.. I don't think I'll remember that.." (That was a lie, you memorized it by the time you got home and asked your mom to write it on your notebook..) "I think I'll have to call you a shorter name.. Like.. Cheese!" 
She makes a small grimace, but it looked so cute, "Cheese? You're funny!"
You both giggled as you give her a cheeky grin, "I think we'll be really good friends."
"Me too," She says with a soft voice, pushing you on the swings, higher than  you could ever imagine. You could see the clouds and felt like you could touch them, but most of all, you could see her name in the sky. 
"Tara Carpenter," You whispered to yourself with a squeal as Tara pushed you higher.
- - 
In 6th grade, your parents had a big fight that made your eyes go wide, making you hide under your bed as you clawed at your ears, silently sobbing. Sure they fought and it could be bad, but this one was different, it was worse, screaming, crying, your walls shaking and random things being thrown. You found out that they got divorced.
Then at that night, you grabbed your phone and opened your window with tears in your eyes, going to Tara's house, running as fast as you could move.
You climbed up the ladder that Tara had shown you and crawled to her room on top of the house, knocking quietly on her window, sniffling.
A long moment later, you could see her shadow as she opened it, rubbing her eyes as she looked at you, "Y/N?"
Then, she looked up at your face, the only light was from her lamp and the moonlight, finally seeing your tear stained cheeks and crying eyes.
"You're crying," She says, concern flooding through her features as she pulled you inside and onto her bed. 
She sat next to you as you stared at her stuffed animal.
"Not too much.." You murmur, tears daring to fall down again.
"Why?"
Should you tell her something that has been going on for almost your whole life?..
"My parents fought today.. Oh Tara.. It was terrifying.. There was screaming, crying, I heard so many things being thrown and I tried everything.. It just w-wouldn't stop.. They.. I.. They..." You sniffle, your mouth opening to let out soft cries, she knew what happened, your mom and dad weren't together anymore.
Something in Tara broke, she couldn't see you cry. Seeing you cry made her eyes water, especially someone like you.
She wrapped her arms around you and pulled you closer, making you sob against her chest, rubbing circles behind your back, something she learned in the past. 
"It's all going to be okay. I'm here. I won't ever leave you."
Your lip trembles, looking up at her, "Do you really promise?"
She can see it in your eyes, fear. You don't want her to leave you. 
"I promise."
You nod against her chest, turning away from her so your back is facing her stomach as she hugs you.
A moment passes before you turn to her again, she could see something swimming underneath those eyes, uncertainty. 
"Do you really promise? Y-You're all I have."
Tara can feel her heart squeeze as she nods, nuzzling your nose. "I really promise."
You nod, "I trust you. I always trust you." You whisper, sniffling as you hug her, your nose buried against her chest as you cry, cries turning more muffled as she can sense your beginning to fall asleep. You never heard, but as you slept, she kissed your forehead quickly, whispering a small, "Love you."
- -
When Tara was 15, her parents divorced like yours, and both her dad and sister left her. She didn't know what she felt.
She was upset, she cried in her bed for months.. 
But then, she felt angry. Angry at her dad, her sister, at the world. 
It was a turn of events for her and it caused her to shut everyone out. Everyone. 
Including you.
She didn't want to take any anger out on you, she would never be angry you. But she always felt like if she talked to someone she cared deeply about, like you, she would snap.
But she never thought abandoning you would hurt you as much as she thought.
At first, it was when she saw you in the halls, and you saw her, but as soon as she met your eyes, she would turn a corner, seeing your waving hand fall limp to your sides. She felt bad. But it would get easier, and it did.. But she always felt that small feeling of guilt eating at her.
It happened multiple times, but you thought she just couldn't see you.
Then it was in the classes you shared when she wouldn't talk to you. 
You usually would talk to her, but whenever she wouldn't talk to you first, you would think she's busy.
But she never turned to you with a joke, a conversation, not even a glance when you saw.
You sat alone at lunch, you sat alone at dinner too, maybe be greeted with your dad if he was drinking.
No more good morning, goodnight, or any texts from Tara.
You tried approaching her, but every time you'd lock eyes, she'd give you this stare that made your gut twist and walk the other way.
You couldn't help but cry, you felt betrayed, everything was crumbling. You had lost the one person that you cared so so deeply about, the person you desperately wanted to be by your side for the rest of your life.
It was hard to get any sleep, because most of the time, you'd be staring at the ceiling, waiting for a goodnight text that would never come. The goodnight text that let you fall asleep as quickly as you shut your eyes.
And you thought that it was because of you, she didn't want to see you ever again. 
You cried, every single night till you passed out from exhaustion. 
Little did Tara know, that there was a letter on the side of your desk, the fresh ink marking it's words on the paper beginning to see the seasons change, beginning to grow as time went on.
The letter you were going to give Tara confessing your love.
The letter that you spent day and night on. 
The letter that was now untouched for months, left on the side of your desk.
The letter, filled with your words of adoration, never being able to experience a reaction, because you never gave to her.
You felt numb, you didn't know what to feel, but you felt abandoned, it hurt so much, it hurt harder than a piercing knife in the heart.
Tara noticed you began to avoid her, began to finally accept it.
You never truly accepted it, you would say you just lost hope, 3 years had passed so quickly.
In class, when she'd turn to you, you never turned back.
When she would sit at the spot you both sat at, she would see your shadow sitting on the chair, untouched and cold.
Sometimes she'd see you at the park, just sitting on a picnic towel and writing in your journal.
Under the tree you both would always sit,
Never having the guts to approach you.
She would say you seemed peaceful, but you weren't. Because whenever she saw your face, it's like your sweet persona was gone and faded, the vibrant colors you used to have was long gone.
Replaced with eyebags, tired eyes, and hair that was always covered by headphones or a hoodie.
Tara never knew why her leaving you left a big mark on your heart, you two were just friends. Right?
She tried to stop thinking about why, but she couldn't help it, you popped up in her head on nights she couldn't go to bed so easily.
- -
Tara was looking at the stars one night, just staring, the moonlight glistening on her cheeks.
She thought of you. She thought back to second grade, words that were ages ago. She could hear your tiny voice.
"I see these stars in your eyes that no one else has, I think it's cool."
She then realized she made a huge mistake, why didn't she think of it before?
Her leaving you was like you being abandoned again, she left you in the dark when she said she would never abandon you. But she left just like your parents.. She left just like how her parents did..
She promised that night you had ran to her. She promised that she would never leave you, and you weren't the person who trusted people often. 
But you trusted her. You knew that she wouldn't leave you.
You thought she wouldn't leave you.
She was the first person you thought of when you were afraid, because she was really all you had.
"Do you really promise? Y-You're all I have."
She remembers those words she said that night, her voice running around her mind, saying the words, "I promise."
She remembers you telling her your parents divorced, she remembers you telling her that when you were with your mom, she was never home, you never had a holiday to spend with your family. Most days alone, and when you met Tara, she always let you come for the holidays.
She was all you had, and you were faithful in what she told you. But she abandoned you, just like everybody in your life had did. She had did something she never wanted to be in the first place. She was so mad that she was left by her family, even when her mom was still with her, that she didn't realize that she did the one thing she wanted so badly not to be.
Abandoned, you were abandoned when she was all you had.
She knew she had to do what was right, she thought distancing herself would work. But it made you worse. She had to fix it.
- -
You were sitting at the park, same place, with your journal, your tote bag in the other, listening to god knows what. 
(You were listening to "The Night We Met" by Lord Huron..)
Tara was going to finally approach you.
Something in her gut told her something was wrong, something was going to be wrong. But she sighed, just brushing it off and thinking that it would be you possibly never forgiving her.
She sat next to you, making your head turn from the small thump next to you.
Your eyes were shocked, mouth agape, whispering the only word she could make up.
"Tara.."
She bit her lip, but instead of smiling at her, you didn't say anything, looking at her with a small scowl and turned your head back to your journal, exhaling an angry huff.
She frowned, looking at you, reaching for your shoulder.
"Look.. Y/N-"
"-Save it Tara." You snapped, making her flinch.
"Y/N, please."
You make a long sigh, turning to her. "Tara I really don't have time for this. You shouldn't be being here right now. You can't be here today! You shouldn't be!"
She looked confused but she kept going, "Look I-I'm sorry. For leaving you."
You turned to her again, at this point she could read your gaze, you were angry, you were upset, most of all behind those eyes, you were hurt.
"You can't just leave me for 3 years and come back to apologize thinking I'll forgive you just like that! You're out of my life for so long and come back like nothing has happened."
She exhaled, "Let me just speak! I-I've learned from then and I'm trying to apologize!"
You stopped her, "I don't want you apologizing for this damage that has caused my life to crumble and has already been dealt with.."
She interrupted you, "I know! But I was dealing with so much! M-my parents divorced and I thought letting you go would be best.. Please, I'm trying! Can't we just go back to what we had and forget what has happened?"
You were hurt, tears brimming at your eyes, "You don't understand! Are you forgetting that you left me? YOU left me Tara! And you didn't bother to even tell me or apologize when you left. I was depressed okay? And it was because of you! Every single damn day for three years I was never able to sleep properly because I would think that you would finally text me one night and wish me a goodnight! You were all I had! When my parents divorced I didn't leave you!"
At this point, when your mouth opened, soft cries were being heard, "You were all I had.." You repeat, sniffling, "You promised me you wouldn't leave and that's just what you did."
She felt bad, the walls you put up to get away from her were all falling apart, she saw the little girl that she knew once before. The little girl she saw that night your parents divorced when they both left you. She felt all this guilt that has built up when she ignored you beginning to swarm in her chest, she felt horrible.
"I'm sorry. I don't even know who I was.." She whispered, looking at your shaking figure.
You turned to her, your tears flowing down, like the three years to stop them wasn't enough.
"Tara just s-stop! I-I'm just getting over you after this long and I can't have you here again. N-not today."
She looked at you, aghast, eyes wide, "What?"
You cover your face, hands sliding down to stop, "Yes Tara! I loved you! I fucking loved you and the day I was going to tell you, you left! YOU left me!" You screamed, angry, betrayed, sentence ending with a cry.
She was stunned. You loved her.. You loved Tara. And she thought that when she loved you, pushing you away could make her forget her feelings, making sure you were safe, but she caused this.
You didn't wait for her to respond, shuffling through your tote bag and grabbing up a crumpled piece of paper, slamming it in her hand before you got up and left, the gush of wind hitting her hair as she stared at her hand in horror, not knowing what to do.
- - night
Tara sat in her room, staring at the ceiling, hair draped all over her bed as the only light was from her lamp, only adding a light orange hue to her room.
She felt bad, she should've known that she never should've left you. She should've thought about how you were going to feel like. It made her want to cry.
As much as she's staring, she notices the crumpled up paper you gave her. She wasn't even sure what it was, maybe that's why she was so scared of opening it.
She grabs it from the side of her night stand and slowly uncrumples it, revealing a letter.
From you 3 years ago.
-
Dear Tara,
We've been friends for so long and I remember when you first came up to me in second grade because you noticed my friends weren't playing with me like they usually do everyday. To be honest, I never told you but for some reason, years ago, I remember staring at you every day while you ate lunch because you seemed so sweet and I wanted to approach you so badly. It's weird that myself in second grade would even do that. But you should know the only reason why I sat on the swings, every, single, day was because I wanted to see you. That's the first time we've ever met and I'm so blessed for that day because now, you're my best friend. Everyday I'm so happy to have you to be the reason I get to smile and have a shoulder to cry on or rest on. I've been wanting to tell you this for so long, but I remember feeling a strange feeling in my chest when I first confessed my problems at home with my parents and felt your soft hands touch mine to comfort me. 
It was so so weird. Love always seemed like something I might never have because I found it to be gross. But when I met you, I felt like love wasn't so bad anymore. That day, I remember feeling this warmness in my cheeks when you hugged me, I remember feeling something I don't feel for people often. I felt trust. That's when I knew I was falling in love with you. you've been there every step of the way and I don't know where I'd be without you. Tara, I want to write to you that I love you. I've been falling ever since on nights where I got yelled at and came to your house crying, when you invited me over for Christmas with your family because I didn't have a home I wanted to go to, I love you because you're Tara and it's so hard to explain. but at the same time it isn't. I don't think I met someone as loving, understanding, and caring as you, I've seen you as someone who can light up a room. Even on my bad days, you somehow manage to make me smile, not many people can do that for a person like me.
My mother was planning to move to Canada in like 3 years, she said 3 years later in April, but she said it was up to me. And I told her we had to wait just a little longer because I wanted to give this letter to you and see what you said. I think I won't leave this place because it stores all our memories, like at the coffee shops or the tree we sit down at every morning of Saturday. I'm not leaving because you're the only person that is making me stay. I would've been long gone if you weren't here. But meeting you has caused me to look forward to something to everyday. To someone. I don't think I've ever been so happy to you know, just walk to your house randomly and pop out under your bed and see your scared reaction. But, Tara Carpenter, I love you. I don't even think these words can even explain the kind of comfort, or need that I feel when you're by my side. I hope that these words can help you realize how much you've taken a toll on my life, and possibly, one day I can be by your side for the rest of my life.
All my love,
Y/N/Y/L/N
&lt;;33
-
Tara covered her mouth, trying to cover a cry, which came out muffled. Your words. Her betrayal. She left you before you could even tell her. 
She thought of your face in her thoughts, she thought of seeing the letter fall out of your hands when she ignored you on every day she could ever see you. 
She thought of you crumpling it with broken sobs and throwing it on your desk.
She thought of the letter you were going to give her, the letter that was supposed to be given, but never was.
The forgotten letter beginning to age.
And noticed, it was all ruffled and there were marks of fallen, long old tears on it, seeing how the ink smudged from the tears.
The letter fell, tears falling from her eyes and streaming down her face.
It must've been so long ago. But it felt like yesterday. Even though it was 3 years ago.
She could've changed the slightest thought of her mind the day she began to ignore you.
If she did, everything would've been right. She could picture her holding hands with you, cuddling at night with your favorite movie playing in the background. You two would've been in desperate, everlasting, love. If her parents didn't divorce, she could see you, in your usual wavy hair with a ribbon tied from the back with your half up half down, the smooth letter laying in your arms, running up to her. She could picture the way you smiled, the way your silly smile made her smile back with a tinted blush on her cheeks. She could picture the way she would jump up and down and say she loved you too.
Everything would've been perfect.
If she didn't leave you in the first place.
Instead, she was left with your letter, crumpled, not smooth, wrinkled, seeing the way the letter couldn't bear to be left anymore. 
Tara fell asleep that night, broken, feeling horrible for the way you must've felt, with the crinkled letter in her hand. 
- -
The next morning, Tara was at the park, she could see a train station up ahead, New York's local train station that she would take when she had to travel.
Tara was sitting under the tree you always sat at with her. The tree that held so many memories, the way when spring would hit, the white flowers would fall on the green grass when you two would be together. The way the tree's flowers began to wilt when you began to sit alone, like the friendship that began to wilt. 
She waited, you sat at this tree every single day, but why weren't you coming? She waited, looking up at the flowers, they weren't very white anymore, the fallen flowers a little orange from being dried. It was spring, it was April, the flowers should've been whiter, but they weren't as bright. What a metaphor and sign it was for her. But still, they were as pretty as ever. 
She bit her lip, sighing, grabbing the letter you wrote her again, reading it again. Then before she could read it again, as she looked up, she could see..
You? 
You were at the train station, you held a luggage, looked packed, with your hair down, usually ribbon in your hair, waiting to enter the train.
Her eyes widened, and it came to her, everything made sense, her thoughts unfolding, everything like magic was happening. 
She remembered something, something..
She quickly read the letter she was reading, then her eyes expanded with fear.
Then she remembered, it was 3 years since she left you, and it was April.
"My mother was planning to move to Canada in like 3 years, she said 3 years later in April, but she said it was up to me. And I told her we had to wait just a little longer because I wanted to give this letter to you and see what you said. I think I won't leave this place because it stores all our memories, like at the coffee shops or the tree we sit down at every morning of Saturday. I'm not leaving because you're the only person that is making me stay."
- -
happy ending
"Fuck!" Tara cried, grabbing the letter as she ran after you.
It couldn't be too late, it couldn't have been today! 
As she ran, her legs taking her as far as they could, she could hear your voice in her mind,
"You shouldn't be being here right now. You can't be here today! You shouldn't be!"
She should've known you were going to leave, she should've seen last night! Is that why you were so afraid to see her when she came up to you? Because you knew you were going to be gone the next day? And she was going to keep you from leaving? Because you didn't have the heart to really tell her why she couldn't have talked to you?
It all made sense.
Tara sobbed as tears fell like a thunderstorm,  running and seeing the train doors open, there were at least 10 people in front of you waiting to get on, it made her more desperate, running after you.
She screamed your name, she was so close but yet so far away, why can't the people move slower? 
Tara lost her father and sister, she couldn't lose you. She can't. She needed to apologize, she never got to say her true apology.
She was almost there, and you were so close to entering the train, making her run up the stairs as fast as she could, panting and losing her breath.
The day was beginning to lose hope, there was only a few more people who needed to get on before it closed, before you did. 
She saw your figure, your pretty face, not focusing on the tired eye bags as she got up the stairs, running to the train.
Tara screamed your name as loud as she could, making you turn, and her grabbing your arm, pulling you and your luggage out of the train, seeing it start to roll away.
 She was panting hard, you turning to see her, your eyes full of fear, confusion, and most of all, a wave of.. Hope?
For some reason, it took her a while to catch her breath, but before you could say something, she hugged you, tightly.
The arms of you wrapped around her stomach, she felt you melt in her arms, burying your face against her chest, as she embraced you, the letter you wrote falling to the floor.
Tara cried as you both hugged, whispering in a slight broken voice, "I'm sorry Y-Y/N.."
You were crying too, softly as you hugged her, "I know.. It's okay. We're okay.." 
She kept talking, she felt horrible, "I-I left you when you needed me.. I was the only person you relied on a-and I left because I w-wasn't thinking about how you felt.. I thought t-that if I c-could push you away, these feelings I-I felt would go away and I wouldn't take m-my anger out on you for my parents divorcing.. I'm s-so s-sorry.." The girl's scent comforted you, reminding you of your past, making you hug her more.
Tara could hear you hiccupping on cries as she twisted your hair, "I didn't even k-know you needed me that much, you s-should've told me you were planning to leave."
You looked up at her, you were crying horribly, she swept bangs away from your face to see your tired, broken face that has been building up these past 3 years.
"I-I thought you didn't want to see me anymore.. I thought you didn't need me.. I-I thought you left because you hated me.. or didn't care about me anymore.. I couldn't bear to think about you breaking your promise.. I thought you abandoned me.. I was s-so hurt that I j-just did all these things that weren't me.. I tried to avoid you.. I couldn't sleep or eat.. I was s-so scared because I had no one.." You said, voice barely a whisper, raw and full of hurt.
Tara's eyes widened a little, a wave of strong guilt hitting her, as she shushed you.. "No Y/N.. Of course not.. I never hated you.. I-I loved you and I couldn't bear to think that I would take my anger out that you never caused on you.. S-so I avoided you and didn't think about how m-much it would affect you. I'm sorry.." Tara said again, voice cracking.
You nodded against her chest, sniffling as Tara saw the tears fall again, wiping them.
"I love you," she whispered, "I always had."
She saw your eyes slightly sparkle, that sparkle that she thought she'd never see, the sparkle that disappeared that day she left.
Her hands reached to grab the letter she dropped, showing it to you, "Let's try to restart, okay?"
You were still crying, but managed to make a small smile formed as you nodded, "Tara, I love you. I've loved you for so long, I've loved you when I realized that you were the one person that I could finally trust, a word that I thought that might never happened, but it did because o-of you. C-can we maybe.. Just.."
She pulled you a little closer, grinning just a little as she nodded her head before you could finish, "Yes."
Then she kissed you softly, it was like everything had never happened, she could feel the way you hugged her, the way the wilted flowers were going to flourish again, the letter that was forgotten, finally given.
"Do you really promise you won't leave me?.."
You both locked eyes when pulling away, Tara held up a pinky. 
"I don't break pinky promises."
You take her pinky and link it with yours, hugging her again.
"I trust you."
Every bad thing that happened between you two was long forgotten.
- -
angst ending
Tara's eyes widened with fear, seeing you with a packed luggage, your figure entering the train, you couldn't.. Not today..
"Fuck!" She cried, the train was not to far, she could still make it.
She screamed your name, all the feelings towards you she felt spilling out from her scream as she ran after you. 
She ran, ran ran ran, running out of breath as her shoes crumpled on dry leaves and grass, crying.
"No! You can't be! Y/N! Please!" She screamed, but her voice was muffled, you couldn't hear her. 
Tara was so close, yet so far as she kept running, getting closer, an apology of cries coming out.
The train got closer and closer as she finally saw you, screaming your name.
You finally turned around, knowing the voice all to well as you turned to see her. 
Then the train doors closed, your eyes only being seen through the window as she cried out your name, shaking her head in disbelief, her eyes filled with regret and tears.
You looked at her, like you couldn't believe she was here, you thought you'd never see her again as your hand reached up to touch the window, your touch ghosting on her face as she could hear you mouth out her name.. "Tara.." Then she could sense the sense of shame on your face, sorrow.
"Please.. It's not too late.." She sobbed, her voice going in the crevices of the doors.
Then the train began to move, as she saw you getting farther and farther away, your hand on the window as she saw you mouth the words, "I'm sorry."
She ran after the train, but knew deep down, she wasn't going to make it. She wasn't going to see you again, the train leaving her sight as she cried, regretting the days she ignored you, regretting the way she made you think that she didn't ever care. She abandoned someone when knowing, years ago, she was once the girl who promised to protect them and never leave her side.
She knew that you had left, all those memories you two had created were left with her now. She knew that you weren't going to come back.
She never even got to say goodbye. She never got to say sorry. She never got to tell you she loved you, she loved you all of these years. She never knew where you would be. She would never know if you two would ever meet again. 
The only sound she could hear was the wind blowing in her hair, blowing the muffled sounds of you two laughing and giggling, what you two once were, what you two could've been, it was just too late. You would just be a memory for her, a memory she could never forgive herself for. A broken memory she knew she caused. The memory was broken but she also knew, long season months ago, she broken your promised heart.
I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you.
Take me back to the night we met.
Tara thought back to the day you two met, the day you became friends. The day that led to you falling to her years later. The day that led to her falling for you, then pushing you away.
The day that led to this.
If she could see your face one last time and kiss you, everything would be okay.
Tara knew that she was just too late, seeing the train long gone, tears in her eyes as she let out a choking sob, the letter falling out of her hand, long forgotten.
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dre6ming · 29 days
Text
Kiss it better
Part of “The delicate beginning rush” (click for the whole series) can be read in it’s own
Pairing: Austin Butler x fem reader
Warning: hard language, curses, aggression, mentions of blood, assault
Plot: while visiting Austin on set of the bike rides something not so great happens, that has Austin pull out his protective side
Word count: 1.8k
Masterlist
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A/n: this was a request so if you have some more feel free to send them to me
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"Do you know how much I love you?" Austin asks, kissing my cheek, the facial hair he had to grow for the role making me giggle with the way it tickles my soft skin. "I think in might have and idea about it." I say, turning my head slightly and catching his lips in a warm kiss, tasting his breath on my tongue. My heart beats so fast I can almost hear it in my ears, as he adjusts his hand, to hold my lower back better making sure I don't fall off the bike. He's filming for the movie Bike riders and I'm just passing through, visiting for the month, which has been great since we often get to fool around the set in between filming.
 "I think I might go to your trailer and get some sleep, I'm kinda tired." I tell him, brushing my hands through his hair, pulling slightly at the root, making him groan. "Ok, want me to walk you?" Austin helps me get off the bike safely. "You think they'll let you keep it after you're done?" I ask referring to his bike, praying for a 'yes' "Probably not." He shakes his head and I pout, truly disappointed. "That's too bad, maybe I'll buy you one for your birthday!" I say absentmindedly, walking my hand over the handle of the bike. Austin chuckles, pulling me in a tight hug. "Ok sugar mama, if that's what you want to waste your pension on." He jokes shrugging his shoulders, making me laugh with my head thrown back. "Well baby, if you behave." His lips catch mine and I sigh into the kiss, biting his bottom lip, smiling when I hear him groan. 
"Ok I'm going now, you need to get back to work." I say, patting his chest. Austin opens his mouth to say something, but doesn't get to as he gets called back to set and I giggle at his frustration, going past him. I wink at him and get to walking to his trailer, already dreaming of the soft bed enveloping me whole. On my way, a dude I've never seen before, waves my way, nodding his head at me, a strange grin on. I can't lie, but I usually don't pay mind to such behavior, but somehow this interaction makes shivers climb up my spine and the hair to on the back of my neck to rise.
 "Hi gorgeous!" He approaches me and I try to act like I don't see him, taking a few steps to my right hoping he'd get the note and leave me alone. "Hey!" He whistles at me trying to get my attention. "You deaf or somethin girl?" He asks lifer coming my way. "I'm just not interested, ok can you leave me be?" I ask hoping he'll give up. "So what maybe I can change your mind, huh?" He says, coming my way aggressively. I feel my bones shake with fear and I try to move away from him, while trying to remember everything I learned in self defense class, but all that seems to be useless now. "I don't know you ok?" I say, picking up my pace, not running just yet, thinking if I should turn back where I came from. 
While I'm in my head sweating my decision, the guy catches my wrist in his hand and pulls me towards him. I wince at the way his grip on my wrist twists my joint and shoots pain up my arm. "Let me go!" I try to rip my arm out of his hold but, he's to strong. "Oh come on baby, just a kiss, maybe I'll grab a boob or two, they look gorgeous" my free hand goes to cover my chest and I look frantically around to see if there's anyone that can help me, but there isn't. Panic is high in me and the smirk the guy has on his face, makes my blood turn to ice in my veins. "Help, someone help me!" I shout as loud as I can, before he slaps me across the face. The hit takes me off balance and in doing so, he brings me flush to him, putting his hand over my mouth and the other around my waist. With my hands free I start to hit him anywhere I can, but he's big so he doesn't even budge. "You cunt! Stop fucking hitting me!" He growls at me, his spit hitting my cheek. 
I can't see anything, tears are flowing down my face and I'm struggling to breathe with his hand on my mouth. I can see all the ways this might go and I'm terrified. Suddenly I'm roughly shaken and he lets go of me, so I fall to the ground, my legs numb. "Shh , hey it's fine!" I hear a muffled voice say and I feel hands on my arms trying to grab at me, I scream and push away, closing my eyes, bringing my knees to my chest and crying. I hear a bunch of commotion around me, but I'm scared to move, so I just sit there, formed into a ball. 
I feel a set of arms wrap around me and I flinch away. "Shh baby, Y/n it's me, it's Austin." I hear softly and I lunch at him, throwing my arms around his neck, burying my face in the crook of his neck. "I swear to you I want to kill that motherfucker, I hope my fist fucking stays on his face for the rest of his scum bag life." He sounds so angry, but his touch is so warm and comforting. "I I I'm sssorry" I stammer from crying, nuzzling my face in his chest. "Don't you dare apologize. Come on baby, I'll lift you up." Austin says, hooking one arm under my legs and the other on my back. He lifts me up like I weigh nothing, kissing the top of my head. 
I hear the door to his trailer open and soon enough I feel the fluffy bed under me. His hands push the hair out of my face and he uses his thumbs to wipe my tears away. "I knew I should've walked with you." He says more, to himself p, giving me a good look over, anger intensifying on his face as he notices my red wrist and probably swollen cheek. "I should go back there and give that guy more punches to take home." I shake my head and take his hands off my face, rubbing his knuckles, frowning when I see the cuts and bruises on his hands. "Aus what did you do?" I ask my voice barely a whisper. 
"Some guy from sound said he heard some girl scream for help, my mind when directly to you, I hate that I was right. I ran and when I saw him grabbing at you, I ripped him off of you, got him to the ground and punched as hard as I could, I hope I broke something, maybe his nose" he takes his hands back and goes to the sink to wet a small wash cloth, bringing it over and wiping my face. "I'll change and then we can go back to the apartment ok? They gave me two days off." He says, placing another kiss on my forehead, then quickly undressing, putting the clothes in a bag and getting into his own. It only takes him a minute or two, but it feels like an eternity and I'm so happy, when he gets on the bed and pull me on top of him, arms tight around me. "I'm so sorry honey, are you ok?" Austin asks again 
"Yes, I'm fine, just a little shaken up." I say, grimacing when I speak since it hurts from all the screaming. "I think we should go by the medic, your cheek is pretty red and your wrist is bruising" he speaks softly, massaging my back. "I'm fine." I push hoping he'd drop if. "How's your hand, does it hurt?" I ask and push myself off of him, getting up from the bed and going to my bag to pick my balm for cuts and bruises. I take the wet towel and motion him to come sit at the edge of the bed with me. "Give me your hand." But he's stubborn. "I should be taking care of you, I'm fine." He argues, making me roll my eyes. "Aus, your knuckles are bleeding, please!" I plead with him and he finally gives in. While I work on his hands his lips kiss my face over and over again, making my skin feel warm and tingly.
 "I think if there's anyone that can kiss it better it's you." I admit, smiling, while I carefully apply cream to his bruised knuckles. He doesn't even flinch but I know they must be hurting. "Are you really ok? Please Y/n tell me, I promise not to go break his neck." Austin's nostrils flare up as his anger flashes back to him, and I sigh. "I'm not fine, I was so scared, I took all those self defense classes and I couldn't do anything." I feel tears in my eyes again and he places a finger under my chin, forcing me to look at him. "Come here, my darling love, I'm sorry you had to go through this, I'm here!" He assures me, pulling me into a breath taking hug. 
I breathe in his scent, feeling my muscles relax, the warmth his body provides being exactly what I needed. "Let's go home and get you a warm bath, hm? And then we'll stuff ourselves full of chocolate and ice cream, while watching Twilight!" I giggle at the plans he has made for the night. "I would love that!" I reply truthfully, leaning my head back and pulling him in for a kiss. Austin's lips are warm and soft and sweet, almost too familiar in taste. "Did you use my lip balm?" I ask licking my lips and looking at him, chuckling when he blushes. "Just a bit, maybe, no.." he defends himself, bringing me back for another kiss, one of his hands holding my chin. "Liar!" I say, before his lips crash onto mine. He giggles into the kiss, and his tongue, licks my bottom lip asking for permission, which I give delighted. Austin's tongue explores my mouth and his hands keep me close to his chest, so close I can feel his heart pounding. "I love you!" I say between shallow breaths. "You're my everything!" He admits looking into my eyes and I melt into the blue of his irises.
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serpentarius · 4 months
Text
been trying to wrap my head around the cancellation of "Our Flag Means Death" and why it hurts so fucking much. lots of folks who are much more eloquent than I have summed it up perfectly, but I still think it’s important I add my voice to the matter. 
It really, really sucks that the hurt is being compounded on us every time another queer/minority-led show gets prematurely cancelled. and for a long while, we also had to deal with the many shows that deliberately queerbaited us, which was a shitty and traumatic experience unto its own. And even though we’ve largely surpassed that early-‘00s-flavoured brand of queerbait now, mainstream queer media is still predominantly white-led. With the cancellation of OFMD, we've lost one of the very few intersectional queer shows in the mainstream. Shouldn’t we be beyond asking for crumbs at this point? Shouldn’t we get unabashedly intersectional shows helmed by and starring queer, BIPOC, and trans folks without them being axed for no rhyme or reason?
It’s exhausting at this point, honestly. OFMD has done so well in terms of viewership and engagement and fan response—almost entirely due to word of mouth and little thanks to the Max marketing team, mind you—and even still the show got cancelled? Can they make it make sense????
For me, the thing most akin to this OFMD situation was when Sense8 got cancelled. And yes, the fandom fought, and we eventually DID get a movie that wrapped things up years later! That gives me hope for OFMD, that maybe another network will pick it up, or maybe they’ll be able to make a movie someday. But what makes me sad about cases like Sense8 is knowing that the creators still had to force the narrative around the amount of time they were given. That the corporate overlords who only care about numbers and profit dictated how much time they had to wrap up their story.
And it fucking kills me that DJ only wanted one more season. One more season to complete the vision.
I'm just so mad that queer people are constantly being jerked around and used for profit and then left high and dry. And then we're given excuses like "oh there's no budget" or "oh there's not enough viewership, that's all it is". like, sure, maybe those are contributing factors, but then I look at all the useless garbage shows that have little viewership and high budgets that keep going forever and then I think "hmmmm, the math ain't mathing." It's fucking transparent; the corporations can spew all they want with their rainbow capitalism and talks about diversity, but the evidence is clear, and they can't convince me homophobia/racism/transphobia/etc. is not a factor in these decisions.
Anyways, back to OFMD. OFMD made me fall in love with fandom again. I drifted away from fandom for a while in my 20s, and while OFMD wasn't the first fandom that drew me back into the madness, it's certainly the largest. The sheer amount of creativity both within the show and outside of it has blown me away; I've read some of the best fics, seen some of the best art, and witnessed some of the most incredible creativity from people in this fandom.
And let's not forget the role of the show's creators and how they've interacted with us fans. They made us feel seen. And made us feel loved and valid, even when we were being weird and loud and horny. It's so fucking rare to see that. But they understood; understood that the show they made was for us, for any of us who've been marginalized or made to feel Othered or different or stuck in life or unsure of our identities. And they gave us so much love for it.
The story... man. The unique combination of quirky humour and bright visuals and dark, introspective moments, the gorgeous costumes and soft, lovely, unabashed queerness, and veteran actors and new actors all getting to shine, brilliant comedic actors getting to show off their dramatic chops and vice versa. For me, seeing Rhys Darby - an actor I've loved for a long time, but who I never thought I'd see in a leading role - getting to be the romantic lead in a queer role? And seeing acclaimed director/producer/screenwriter/actor Taika Waititi play opposite Rhys, as an indigenous Blackbeard? Fucking incredible. OFMD Edward Teach you will always be famous to me.
Anyways... despite my long ramblings here, I still don’t think I've been able to get to the root of WHY exactly this show has inched its way under my skin and stayed with me in the way it has. Maybe I'll spend years trying to understand it. But I DO know that it's in part to do with seeing both older queers AND a diverse range of queerness onscreen, in a way that I've never seen in media before. I DO know that OFMD has forced me to look inwardly, and allowed me to realize some important things about myself. About my own queerness, my own identity, things I'm still figuring out. I've cherished being able to see myself in Stede, in Ed, and each of the crew members. In Roach’s love for cooking, in Oluwande’s ability to mediate; in Jim’s quick temper, in the way Izzy builds walls to guard his heart. In Buttons’ quirkiness, in Wee John’s sass, in Frenchie’s ability to turn pain into humour; in The Swede’s silliness, in Lucius’ bluntness, in Pete’s soft heart beneath the skepticism. Lastly, OFMD has inspired me. To create, to write, to draw, to devour other peoples' works and worlds while I sit in sheer, overflowing joyousness at their talent.
so yeah. the news of this cancellation is upsetting and hurtful and disappointing. And it's making us cry, and it's making us grieve, and may make us hollow and numb at times because we've lost yet another thing we love so deeply before it was meant to go. It's so much more than "just a TV show". It means more to us than any passive mindless idiotic mind-numbing bullshit - because even though there's a time and a place and a purpose for that type of media, it's the thought-provoking work, the work that creators pour their entire hearts and souls into, that hit us deep in our own souls. The work that changes our lives. The work that has the ability to save lives, as I know OFMD has done for so many. 
please know I'm sending immense amounts of love and strength to those of you who are also hurting. we'll get through this, one way or another, and I'll keep up with the hope that we'll get more someday; but in the meantime, I'm holding you tight. ❤️️🫂
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asahicore · 1 year
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moonlight - psh (m)
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this work contains smut - minors please do not interact pairing. dancer!sunghoon x fem!reader synopsis. In August 1963, your monotonous summer vacation becomes a lot more exciting when you meet a group of dancers that work as the entertainment staff of the resort you and your family are staying at. Your fascination with them, and particularly dancers and close friends Sunghoon and Chaewon, pushes you to help them out by taking Chaewon's place at another hotel's show when she's unable to dance. The week you spend with Sunghoon as he teaches you to dance and the events thereafter give you a lot more than the ability to mambo. genre. dirty dancing au, strangers to lovers, summer au, poor boy x rich girl trope, the Big 3 (fluff angst n smut) word count. 32.2k a/n. it's finally here !!! i've been working on this for a while so i hope you guys will like it, please lmk what u think ur feedback is super important to me !!! if you've seen dirty dancing you'll see that this is like.. a complete copy of the movie lmaooo i'm sorry i didn't wanna stray from the plot cz i love it 2 much <//3 i'll make a posting schedule shortly after this so you guys can see which of my old works i'll be reposting and all that :)) enjoy !! also thanks to @ozymandia-s for betareading this u deserve the world and u made this fic a thousand times better <333 and yep thats a compliment from me to u so u better treasure it fr.
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It’s the summer of 1963, everybody calls you Baby, and it hasn’t occurred to you to mind. You’re 18, have plans to change the world, and are sure there isn’t a better man than your father.
After years of being too busy to leave work for over a week, your father has finally retired, and you can all go on a long, well-deserved summer break. Like most people your age, your dream vacation would be to backpack through Europe or Asia, discovering the wonders the world has to offer, meeting people from all walks of life and eating all sorts of foreign delicacies. But your parents wish for something more laid-back, so, on the first Sunday of August, after a six-hour drive, you get out of the car at Kellerman’s, a summer resort that belongs to your father’s old friend. You are to spend the rest of the month here, until the last day of the season.
The resort is truly a sight to behold. Even though it’s only four floors high, the main building is downright massive in terms of how much space it occupies. You can imagine the many rooms it must hold, such as the different restaurants and their respective kitchens, the ballroom and other leisure rooms, the stage for various shows, and some offices and apartments where the highest members of staff reside. Tables are scattered all across the front lawn, mainly older ladies and gentlemen sitting at them, drinking lemonade, playing cards, gossiping. You can make out a golf course and a small pond from afar, as well as the back lawn where you’re told most of the activities take place. Such activities include the outdoor dancing lessons, which your mother and sister Seeun want to get to immediately.
Max, your father’s friend, greets you as soon as you arrive as if he’s been waiting for you. Amused, you watch as they clasp each other’s hand before coming into an embrace, giving three hard but friendly pats to the other’s back. “So glad to finally have you here, Doc,” Max says earnestly. “I promise you, one week here and you’ll feel like you’ve never worked a day in your life, that’s how relaxed you’ll be.” Your father laughs and nods, and you turn your attention away when they start talking about work, and how life’s been, and how your daughters have grown, and other things you don’t care much for. 
You notice that a member of staff has begun to unload your numerous bags from the trunk, about half of which are your sister’s (“See, Mommy, I told you I should’ve brought those coral heels!” you hear her complain), and start helping him out. He turns to you with a smile as you haul a suitcase onto the trolley.
“Hey, thanks a lot! You looking for a job here?” he jokes, making you smile.
“Just wanted to help out, but I’ll let you know. I’m Baby, by the way.”
“Baby? Is that your real name?” he asks with an amused expression and a quizzical tilt to his head.
“No, but it’s what everyone calls me,” you beam back.
“Alright then, Baby. I’m Jake.” He wipes some sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand before extending it to you, and you take it, shaking it enthusiastically. 
Your conversation stops there when your father calls out your name, motioning for you to follow him and your mother and sister. “Come, Baby, let the staff do their work.” You give Jake an apologetic smile and wave him goodbye, but he simply shrugs and turns away, seemingly used to this kind of dismissal from guests.
“See you around, Baby,” you hear him say as you start to walk away.
-
Seeun only gives you a few minutes to settle into your shared room and unpack your suitcase before she practically drags you outside, eager to get to the dance class in time. Your older sister absolutely loves dancing. No matter where or with who, if there’s music, she’ll start moving. 
You, on the other hand, have two left feet, which doesn’t make dancing such a fun activity. You like it, but always feel you look like a fool. As for dancing with a partner, the intimacy that comes with it is too much for you, and isn’t something you particularly want to share with boys you barely know, nevermind complete strangers, like the people at the merengue class your sister is making you rush to. 
It takes place in the gazebo, which is wide enough to host about thirty guests and the instructor, who introduces herself as Chaewon. You try to follow her “1, 2, 1, 2” as best you can but it’s hard to focus on the rhythm when you have to avoid being stepped on by the lady to your left and stepping on the man to your right. Everything around you is turned upside down when she cheerfully calls out, “Let’s get into a circle! Gents on the outside, ladies on the inside! C’mon now!”
You manage to make your way into the inner circle, holding onto the hips of the woman in front of you, and finally start to sway to the rhythm a bit more. “Come on ladies! God wouldn’t have given you this body if he didn’t want you to shake it!” Chaewon shouts enthusiastically, emphasizing on the “shake” with a movement of her own.
“On the count of three,” she calls out, “ladies, you’ll turn around, and meet the man of your dreams! 1, 2, 3!”
You find yourself face to face with a grandma that had ended up in the gents’ circle and force on your best smile as you dance with her. She looks delighted, but that expression might just be stuck on her face permanently.
The class comes to an end and the afternoon with it, and you leave the bungalow while everyone gets ready for dinner, yelling out that you’re going to look around as you close the door behind you. It’s the early evening and the sun has just started to set, but not enough for the gentle breeze to be too cold. The small, round bushes and colorful flowers that line the pebbled path from the bungalows to the main building have been expertly tended to; there isn’t a stray weed, nor branch that hasn’t been cut properly nor a wilting plant. It’s all so perfect, it almost looks fake. Yet, when you bend down to feel a petal, it’s soft under your fingertips and very much real.
You walk on the porch that surrounds the main building until you reach the outside entrance to the restaurant. Max’s booming voice catches your attention and you’re able to peek through the ajar door, making sure you can’t be seen from where you stand. Your father’s friend sits at a table while the waiters stand in a half-circle in front of him, hands locked behind them and heads slightly bowed.
“Tonight’s the start of the second half of the season, so I’ll use this opportunity to set a little reminder. You’re here because I chose you lot from the most prestigious schools in the country and you need some financial help, correct?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “So do your job, and do it well. And if you want extra compensation, the gents here may be very generous if you show their daughters a good time and keep their wives happy. But no funny business, you keep your hands off. Got it?”
A quiet flurry of yeses is heard throughout the room just as a group of young people stride in, the sight of them piquing your interest. They’re wearing much more fitted and fashionable clothes compared to the waiters’ simple white vests and trousers, and carry themselves with a confidence you’ve only seen in celebrities and important people. The man that leads them particularly catches your attention: slicked-back hair, useless sunglasses now that the sun has set, all-black clothes, too much leather for the summer weather and the prettiest face you think you’ve ever seen to top it all off. He looks like an off-duty movie star.
“You hear that, boys? No funny business,” he says with a smirk to the group behind him, and they chuckle in response, eyeing the waiters up and down. They work at the same establishment, but they seem to be from two totally different worlds, you notice.
“I think you’re the one who should keep that in mind,” one of the waiters says just as the group passes by him, just loud enough for the other guy to hear. He reacts immediately to the taunt, spinning around and pointing a threatening finger to the waiter’s chest. 
“And I think you should heed your own advice, you jackass,” he spits, unfiltered venom in his voice. The waiter only smirks condescendingly, as if proud his remark had struck a nerve.
“Alright, alright, calm down, Sunghoon, and lay off of Heeseung. You’re booked and busy this week, and your whole entertainment team has work to do, okay?” Max says, tone stern as if telling a child off.
Sunghoon takes a step back but doesn’t look away from Heeseung as he scoffs a simple whatever. He then pivots back around and leads his team out of the room. You decide you’ve seen enough and turn around yourself, heading back to your family’s bungalow with quick steps.
Barely half an hour later, you’re back at the restaurant. The tables have all been set, the candles have been lit, a band is playing soft jazz in the corner, and the waiters are taking care of the guests’ orders and keeping them content. You’ve just sat down when Max himself approaches, introducing your waiter for tonight to your table. You try not to let your astonishment show when you instantly recognise him as the one who had had that scuff with Sunghoon earlier.
“Doc, this is Heeseung Lee, and he’ll take care of you tonight,” he addresses your father, a paternal hand around Heeseung’s shoulder. “He’s a third year med student at Harvard and has been working here every summer for the past three years. A very reliable and hardworking young man.” You feel like you’re being sold a car, but your father just smiles and nods approvingly at Heeseung.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Heeseung,” your father greets, holding out a hand for the young man to shake.
“The pleasure’s all mine, Doctor,” Heeseung responds, a most dazzling smile on his lips. If you hadn’t seen him earlier, you wouldn’t believe that this smile could turn snarky and patronizing.
“This is my wife, our eldest Seeun and our youngest Y/N, but we all call her Baby. She’s going to change the world,” your father introduces, beaming proudly at you.
“Yeah, and Seeun’s going to decorate it,” you say, turning to your sister. A bit unprovoked, perhaps, but this is just the way you and your sister have always been. You smile and tilt your head innocently as she glares at you.
“I think she already does,” Heeseung says, your eyebrow raising up in surprise as your sister looks down at her hands, the sudden compliment making her blush.
“Alright, Heeseung, go get these folks our best champagne. On the house!” Max exclaims, beaming at your parents.
“Yes, sir,” Heeseung says, bowing his head slightly to Max and your table before shooting your sister a smile and walking off. 
“Oh, and here’s someone else I want to introduce to you - Jay, come here! That’s my grandson Jay. Yale Business School,” Max says emphatically. Jay approaches your table quickly, a somewhat self-assured yet awkward smile on his face. He greets your parents and sister with a nod of his head until his eyes settle on you. “This is Baby, I was telling you about her earlier. She’s going to study at Yale too, and her dad says she’ll change the world!”
Jay’s lips form a pout, the kind of pout one makes when watching kittens play or a child running to his mother, as if he finds your ambitions endearing. Used to this kind of reaction from men, you raise your eyebrows and a small smile spreads on your face as if to say, “yep, that’s me.”
“How nice, Baby. But before you go off and do that, how about you save me a dance? Tomorrow night at the ball?” he offers, and the urge to kick him in the balls is hard to resist, but resist you must.
“Of course she will!” your father answers for you, and you have no choice but to put on your best fake smile, but none of the three men seem to see through it. If your mother and sister notice how annoyed you are, they don’t say anything. Knowing them, they probably think you’re being unreasonable if you’re not already throwing yourself at such an obviously intelligent and respectable young man.
That’s how you find yourself the next day, hands stiffly clasped behind Jay’s neck and his own on the sides of your waist, dancing with him to a slow-paced but lighthearted live song, although dancing might be an overstatement as it’s impossible to find a proper rhythm with someone as clumsy as him. You never thought you’d meet a worse dancer than you, but here you were. You have to keep yourself from snorting everytime he winces or tuts when you “accidentally” step on his foot, and you make sure to leave ample room between the two of you for the Holy Spirit.
Most of the dance is spent in awkward silence, probably due to the fact that Jay’s gaze, one that is perhaps meant to be seductive but only comes off as creepy, seems to linger on you for too long and too many times. When a pair of kids spins right by you, looking far more talented and serious in their dancing than the two of you, Jay seems to think he needs to step up his game and tightens his grip on your waist. Although you try to disguise it as best you can, the action makes you look up at him in alarm, and you have to stop yourself from visibly flinching when he bends down to say something in your ear although the music isn’t that loud.
“So, Yale, huh? What are you going to study? Design?”
“Um, Environmental Studies and Politics, actually. I’m particularly interested in how underdeveloped countries work and how we can change things there for the better, rather than making things worse,” you correct him, slightly raising your voice so he can hear you from where you’re standing. 
Jay is visibly taken aback by your detailed response, and all he can do is nod. “Right, right, that’s-”
To no one’s disappointment, you never find out what Jay was going to say next because right then, the music suddenly picks up and one of the musicians announces “Sunghoon and Chaewon of the Entertainment Team for a mambo demonstration” into his mic. Your ears perk up at the sound of those two vaguely familiar names, and you quickly recognise Sunghoon as the leather-clad man from earlier and Chaewon as the merengue class instructor from yesterday. He’s now wearing a black suit jacket and matching trousers with a tight white button-up, the clothes fitting him perfectly and making the muscles underneath them appear when the light hits him just right. On her is one of the most beautiful dresses you’ve ever seen, the red fringed fabric draping over her body like it was created for her, her toned upper back and arms on display.
The crowd of guests quickly forms a circle around the couple, giving them enough space to put on their show, and everyone, including you, is immediately enthralled by their performance. You’re mesmerized by how elegant and energetic at once their dance is, the smiles on their faces unfaltering and their legs and arms forming perfect lines at all times. Their posture is proud and their gazes are always fixed on each other even as they spin around, somehow never getting dizzy. They move in perfect synchronization as one entity rather than two separate people simply dancing together, and even though it is probably due to an impressive amount of practice, you can’t help but find that their chemistry is what makes them so fascinating. When he lifts her into the air, it’s with so little effort that she looks like she weighs no more than a feather. There is not a step out of place, and you’re reminded of those impeccable bushes and flowers from the day before. It makes you wonder how it is possible for two people to look so perfect together, and if that perfection is only superficial or not.
“Who are they?” you ask Jay, your curiosity about them greater than your aversion to talking to him.
From the corner of your eye, you see him looking surprised by your question before he leans in and answers. “Sunghoon Park and Chaewon Kim. They’re part of the dance people. Here to keep the guests happy and entertained.” He sighs, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head in discontentment. “They shouldn’t be showing off with each other like that, it won’t sell lessons. I’ll need to have a talk with them later.”
You barely register Jay’s words after he’s answered your question, your attention focused back on the dancers in front of you. On the other side of the room, you spot Max frowning at them and marching towards them. As soon as Sunghoon and Chaewon notice him, he waves them off and they separate, choosing a guest as their new partner to dance with, which you assume is their way of doing a taster session.
Jay drags you off to sit at a table and for the better part of an hour, you let him bore your ears off as he tells you either things he can’t fathom you’d already know even though you do, or things you couldn’t care any less about. It’s such a shame that a man with that handsome a face and that charming a smile would have the stalest of personalities, yet deem himself the most interesting man to walk the Earth. You nod and hum when you’re supposed to, and that’s all he needs to think you’re listening intently, when really you can’t stop thinking about the dancers you just saw, and even steal glances at them still dancing with some guests mere meters away from you. All you want to do is get up and get Sunghoon’s, or even Chaewon’s attention so they could show you how to move like them - just touching their shoulder or waist would be thrilling. But when you catch your mother’s eye a few tables away and she beams at you, two thumbs up in the air, you know you need to stay planted in your chair.
Thankfully, the amount of guests in the room starts to dwindle, and you use this dip in the evening to run off, telling Jay it’s getting late and you need to get back to your bungalow. You don’t let him try to convince you to stay back, and grab your purse, excitedly waving goodbye at him. He’s probably confused, but you’re too giddy at the prospect of finally leaving to care. 
You were on your way to the bungalow, you really were - but just as you reach it, light from a tall lodge about five hundred meters away catches your attention, and you’re too curious about the building you hadn’t noticed before not to investigate. So you continue walking up the small hill where all the guest lodgings rest until you find yourself before a sign that reads “STAFF QUARTERS - GUESTS KEEP OUT,” which you promptly decide to ignore.
In just a minute, a wooden bridge reveals itself, enabling you to cross over the current that separates you from the other bank, where the lodge stands. If you looked to your right, you could’ve made out some more, smaller and dingier-looking bungalows than the guests’ that hosted the staff behind all those trees, but you run into a familiar face before you can take notice of them.
“Hey! I recognize you. Baby, right?”
“Yeah, and you’re Jake!” you beam, surprised not only by seeing him again here, but by the three huge watermelons he carries in his arms like oversized newborn triplets. 
“Yeah…” he trails, squinting his eyes at you, his enthusiasm turning into suspicion. “You can’t be here. Max would kill me. Go back to the dance, Baby.” He can only take a few steps forward before you grab a watermelon from his unsteady hold, putting your most convincing smile on.
“I’ll help you carry these!” you state rather than offer, and march forwards across the bridge. Behind you, Jake sighs and shakes his head, then rushes to stop you in your tracks.
“Didn’t you read the sign? This area is staff only, you can’t be here,” he repeats, punctuating his words. He stays unwavering even at the receiving end of your very menacing glare, so you simply huff and stack the watermelon back on top of the other two and turn away. It takes him approximately two seconds to change his mind. “Can you keep a secret?”
Jake doesn’t prepare you for what you’re about to see when you enter the staff common lodge, but you don’t think anything could. The smell of a room full of people sweating and moving about hits you instantly, the heat it creates hanging heavy in the air. The breeze coming in through the open windows is practically useless in bringing the temperature down, but you aren’t curious to find out what it’d be like with the windows closed.
The music, a genre your father always bristles at when he hears it on the radio, is now blasting in your ears rather than whistling through the wind, and it takes you a few moments to adjust to the volume and intensity of the bass and drums bouncing off the walls of the room. The guitar sound is sensual and almost yearning, the singer longs for his lover, and the tempo is just fast enough for the dancers to find a swaying rhythm.
As if the lyrics themselves aren’t enough to make you blush, the way the staff dances makes you feel like you’re intruding on something. You try to look away as a couple thrusts their hips into each other’s, only to find another lowering themselves to the group until they’re crouching then slowly rising again, using each other as support the whole time. Skirts bunched up around hips, shirts almost fully unbuttoned or even discarded, hands grabbing onto the partner’s clothes or bare skin - you’ve never seen anyone dance that way. Far from the choreographed performances you’re used to, here, they’re simply letting their bodies move to the music without any second thoughts or a care in the world. You hadn’t even known this could be considered dancing, but surely, when your body molds itself this perfectly to the melody and your partner’s hands, then you can only be dancing. 
Watermelon in arms, you follow Jake as he snakes his way to the back of the room through sweaty bodies holding each other close. You recognise a few people here and there as the entertainment staff who host activities, teach dance classes or help guests find their way around. They peer back at you, expressions either confused or disdainful - you aren’t sure whether that’s because they don’t know who you are, or because they do and don’t like seeing you there. Even if they don’t know that you’re Baby, your dress at least is a dead giveaway of your being a guest. Your mom had picked it out for you - a white sleeveless summer dress that reaches almost to your knees and cinches in at the waist before flowing out over your hips. And no cleavage, of course. Along with your impeccably curled and styled hair, your prim and proper attire is a far cry from the short skirts, tight t-shirts and denim that the staff wears, revealing sunkissed skin and toned muscles. And if all of that still isn’t enough to tell you apart, then your wide eyes like a kid seeing fireworks for the first time should do it.
You finally reach the back of the room and set your watermelon on a bar counter. Jake rests his hands on his hips and watches the dancers, a smile on his face, the kind of smile you wear when you can never get enough of a sight even though you witness it everyday. You watch them too, but you must look a mix of fascinated and terrified - sure, they all look terrific, but if your dad caught you here, you’d be dead.
“Where’d they learn to do that?” you lean in to ask Jake as the next song starts playing, your gaze not leaving the dancers who adjust easily to the more upbeat tempo.
He looks at you, stunned. “Don’t you know? This is how the kids dance these days. This is what American basements look like on Friday nights.” His surprise turns into amusement and he steps in front of you, one hand extended for you to take and a mischievous look on his face. “Wanna try?”
Your eyes immediately double in size and you shake your hands in front of you, but he grabs one of them anyway and starts leading you back into the middle of the room. You’re saved by the doors suddenly bursting open, catching everyone’s attention. In run Sunghoon and Chaewon, wearing the same clothes from earlier, although Sunghoon has ditched the suit jacket and popped the top buttons of his shirt open. Your stomach flips at the sight of his flushed cheeks and hair slick with sweat.
Jake chuckles when he sees how transfixed you are by the two of them, dancing so differently from earlier, their moves far more sexual, hands not so polite anymore, completely free to do whatever they wish. Rather than a smile, Sunghoon wears a small frown and bites his bottom lip, deepening his dimples, and it all seems to make each of his moves that much harsher. The sheer sex appeal that he exudes is absolutely undeniable, and it makes you feel things you’ve never felt before - things you’re not quite unsure how to name. You let out a small gasp as Chaewon jumps and hooks her legs around his hips effortlessly, then as she leans her upper body back until her head almost touches the ground. Sunghoon’s hands are tight around her waist and his biceps apparent under the thin fabric of his dress shirt. You realize how strong Sunghoon must be when he carries her all the way to his shoulders, letting her rest her knees there as she plays with her skirt and swings her head from side to side. You’ve never seen anyone look so good while having so much fun.
“They look great together,” you blurt out without thinking.
“Don’t they?” Jake says, looking out at them with a fond smile. “You’d think they were a couple.”
This makes your head pivot towards Jake. “Well, aren’t they?”
“Not since we were kids, no. They’ve just been dancing together for so long that they’ve developed this- this chemistry and understanding of each other, I guess.” 
“Do you know them well?”
“Sunghoon’s my best friend from home. He met Chaewon when he started working here when we were 16, and then he got me this job when we were 17. The three of us are 22 now.” He meets your gaze and his smile grows wider. “Why, you interested?”
The sudden question (and the very obvious, very embarrassing answer) takes you aback and you stammer out a few nonsensical syllables before frowning at him. Your reaction just seems to amuse him. “No, I’m not. Just asking,” you manage to say.
He looks back at them, and you follow his gaze. “Well, good, cause we’re not allowed to get involved with the guests anyway. Which is why you shouldn’t be here in the first place.”
Just then, the song ends and Sunghoon and Chaewon laugh before they separate, finding another partner to dance with. As Chaewon heads towards someone else, Sunghoon catches your stare and walks to where you and Jake stand, eyes fixed on your face. You feel small under his gaze, but you will your knees not to buckle underneath you, although that’s hard to do when his eyes sweep your figure, giving you a once-over.
“What’s she doing here?” he questions Jake without looking away from you.
“That’s Baby, she came with me,” Jake says, not really answering the question.
“I carried a watermelon,” you blurt, not really answering the question either, but that seems to satisfy Sunghoon. His eyebrows raise slightly before he heads back to the dancefloor and starts dancing again. You release a breath you hadn’t known you were holding, but another one catches right in your throat when, after barely thirty seconds, he pivots back around as if there was still something he was curious about. His eyes stay focused on you, unreadable.
And then, he bows his head slightly, looks up at you through his eyebrows, raises his hand, and beckons you to him with his index finger. As if spellbound, your feet move on their own until you find yourself in front of him, his hands reaching immediately for your hips and holding on tight there. All the nerves in your body are on edge and your heartbeat speeds up, almost matching the fast tempo of the song resonating throughout the room. Simply remembering to breathe becomes an arduous task. Jake’s voice is a faint sound as he says, “So you go dance with him, but not me?”
This kind of dancing is completely unfamiliar to you, so you have no idea what to do. Thankfully, Sunghoon doesn’t seem to expect anything else, and he knows how to guide you so that you get the gist of it. “Keep your eyes on me,” he commands quietly, gesturing with two fingers for your gaze to stay on his. “And move your hips in a circle, just like that,” he adds, executing the move for you to mirror. “Just relax, you’re too stiff. Relax your arms. Put them around my shoulders.” His hands brush down from your shoulders to your wrists, sending a trail of fire all along your arms, grabbing them and resting them on his shoulders himself before settling back on your waist. His arm snakes its way around it, bringing you closer to him. You aren’t sure what’s more electrifying, his gaze or his touch.
You start to focus on the music and on getting your body to move along to it, and it feels like a miracle when your hips, firmly pressed against his own, sway side-to-side in rhythm. Remembering what you saw earlier, you lean back slightly, hips still moving in small circles, trusting him to keep you from falling. You lean back as far as you can, and something about it is so liberating, you feel the adrenaline rushing through your body as if it’s the only thing keeping you alive. When you come back up, your palms are flat against his chest and he looks at you with a proud but surprised smirk that lits your insides up. “Just like that,” he whispers, but his face is close enough for you to hear him over the music.
He spins you around a few times, and as quickly as he appeared, he’s already gone, having weaved his way through the crowd back towards Jake. It takes you a few seconds to register his absence, but when it does, it’s like all the warmth he filled you with is gone; you’re left only with the heavy heat weighing the room down and you with it, when you’d felt light like air not a moment ago.
Before you can decide on what to do next, someone taps your shoulder, and you turn around to find Heeseung frowning down at you. In the fraction of a second, you can tell this is the snarky Heeseung that you’d seen when you were snooping around the day before rather than the polite Heeseung that had waited your table that night.
“Baby, right? I don’t know what you’re doing here, but your sister and parents are looking all over for you. If I were you, I’d go now, and quick.”
Alarm shoots through you as you realize you’d been here for twenty minutes at least, the sort of absence that wouldn’t go unnoticed by your family this late at night. You thank him rapidly and practically run towards the door before risking a look back at Jake and Sunghoon, still standing in the corner of the room. Jake looks worried, so you send him a thumbs up, but Sunghoon simply peers at you, sipping on a beer as his back rests against the wall, that same unreadable look from before back on his face. You don’t linger to figure it out and rush to your bungalow, coming up with an excuse that you got lost on your way back for your parents to believe. Because their Baby would never do anything she isn’t supposed to, right?
That night, as you toss and turn in bed, trying to fall asleep, your mind wanders off to those warm, big hands firmly planted on your waist, and how they had guided your body until it moved on its own accord, until it let itself go and only followed the rhythm. How far can you go until your body no longer belongs to you but rather to the music, or to the person holding you close, you wonder? And if that happened, would you, for a moment at least, no matter how fleeting, be freed of all your worries for your future and of all the pressure on your shoulders?
Your feet already ache - from dancing or from wanting to dance some more, you can’t quite tell.
-
Every year when August comes, it takes you by surprise how early the sun sets. Just as you’d gotten used to the sky still being fairly light by 10 p.m., it was already getting dark at nine. This is what you think about a few nights later as you look out at the dark sky, the bright full moon and the hundreds of stars lighting it up. You’re standing next to the gazebo with your parents as you watch other guests dancing about; clearly, since you’re thinking about the state of the sky and the sun in the summer, you’re very entertained. Your sister has managed to become friends with some of the other guests’ kids, as well as some of the staff, and has even formed a budding romance with Heeseung, which your parents have made it obvious they approve of. This means that she is excused of any activities she might not want to partake in, while you have to follow your parents everywhere.
Your gaze follows Sunghoon as he dances with an older woman, guiding her through the dance and teaching her a few steps. You can’t help but frown slightly at his forced smile when she lets her hands wander a bit too far down his back, and you wonder why he doesn’t say anything when he looks so obviously uncomfortable.
“You see that woman over there?” you hear Max ask your father as he motions to the lady dancing with Sunghoon. “Vivian Kim. We call women like her bungalow bunnies. Their husbands work all week and only come back on weekends. That dancer Park Sunghoon is pretty popular with them, if you know what I mean,” he comments with a dark chuckle. “But I gotta pretend like I don’t know any better, otherwise the wives are unhappy. And if the wives are unhappy, so are the husbands, and then I lose money.”
You daze out of the conversation when you see Jay approaching, his steps quick and headed directly towards Sunghoon. “Where’s Chaewon?” he questions impatiently, taking no notice of Vivian, who seems to take no notice of him either and continues swaying her hips to the music.
“What do you mean where’s Chaewon? She’s on a break, Chaewon needs a break,” Sunghoon bites back, tone just as harsh as Jay’s. That seems to shut Jay up, and he just squints at him before turning his head to where you’re standing. His whole demeanor changes instantly as he walks towards you, that smile one would reserve for children that he always looks at you with.
“Hey Baby, wanna go on a walk?” he asks, but with the intent way your parents, Max and Jay himself are peering down at you, you know you don’t have much of a choice.
You put on your best forced smile and take his extended hand. “Sure, Jay.”
He takes you to a small wooden bridge that overpasses a small but feisty current. The walk there is fairly silent, which you’re thankful for, because it’s easier to pretend Jay isn’t here when he’s not talking, but the fantasy is shattered everytime he sighs and hums contentedly. It’s like he thinks spending five minutes without talking will make the world implode, and he has to make some kind of noise to keep the balance.
When you reach the bridge, you lean back against the rail, and he leans on his side, apparently so he can look at you better. “I love to watch your hair blow in the breeze,” he says after a few moments, and it takes everything in you to keep your laughter in at the sudden romanticism.
“You know, not to brag,” he starts, and you know he’s about to say the most pretentious thing you’ve ever heard, “but around here, I’m known as the catch of the county.” He’s smiling, but you know he’s being fully serious. “I mean, it makes sense, doesn’t it? I’m handsome, parents love me, and I go to the best school in the country. People ask me, ‘well, what’s the difference between you and any other guy at Yale,’ and I say, ‘five hotels and a million-dollar inheritance!’” He bursts laughing like he’s just made the funniest joke ever, although you’re not sure where the joke is. You chuckle awkwardly and nod, remembering your mother’s advice - when in doubt, just nod. You’re not particularly in doubt, but you’re also not sure how to respond to such ostentatious self-praise.
To your great despair, Jay is about to open his mouth again, but a voice coming from the exit of the forest near you stops him in his tracks. “Heeseung, please, you have to help me with this-,” the voice says, and you recognize it quickly as Chaewon’s.
“I told you, it’s none of my damn business.”
“But it is! Please!” she shouts back. He walks ahead of her and she tries to catch up to him, and just like that, they’re already gone without having noticed you or Jay.
A hand placed delicately on your shoulder snaps you from your thoughts. You turn to Jay who has a sad look in his eyes and who sighs as if pained to say what he has to say next. “You know, Baby, sometimes, in this world, you’ll see things you don’t want to see. And sometimes, you can’t do anything about them. It’s all part of growing up,” he finishes, his tone self-important like he’s just taught you a world of knowledge. 
“You hungry?” he suddenly adds, all cheery. “C’mon, eating something might take your mind off of this. We can go to the kitchens and get you anything you’d like.”
He indeed takes you to the restaurant kitchens, completely empty due to the late hour. He opens up a fridge, and even though he basically does, the way he acts like he owns the place makes you wince. “So, what have we here? Some smoked salmon canapés, some ham sandwiches… ooh, brownies! What else…” he trails off, but your attention has been caught by something else. 
You can hear someone snuffling somewhere in the room, and when you lean to the side to peer behind the wall, you can make out a female figure crouched down in the dark. She’s trembling from head-to-toe, and when she lifts her head to look at you, you recognize her as Chaewon. You’ve never seen anyone looking so scared.
Thinking quickly, you grab Jay by the shoulders, smiling at him as you say, “You know what, I don’t think I’m actually that hungry, let’s just head back to the gazebo, yeah?”
For once, you’re the one who doesn’t let him answer your question and you speed out of the kitchens and back to the gazebo. You find Jake immediately, rushing to him to tell him what you saw, and he in turn rushes to Sunghoon, who apologizes and drops his dancing partner’s hand as soon as he hears what’s going on. Ignoring Jay’s confused look, you run with them back to the kitchens, from which Chaewon hasn’t moved an inch.
Sunghoon sits next to her, taking her in his arms and helping her up. “It’s okay, you’re okay, I’m here now. Everything’s fine. Let’s get you back to my room, okay? It’ll be quiet there,” he coos, getting her snuffles to calm down and her breath to steady itself.
Since none of them tell you to go back, you follow along, Chaewon in Sunghoon’s arms in front and you and Jake not too far behind. “What’s wrong with her?” you ask Jake quietly.
“She’s pregnant.”
“Jake!” Sunghoon calls out indignantly, sending him a look as if to warn him.
“What? It’s not like she’d tell anyone.”
“Still, it’s none of her business,” Sunghoon replies, glancing briefly at you.
“And what’s he gonna do about it?” you can’t help but ask. This makes Sunghoon pivot on his heel and Chaewon frowns at the sudden movement.
“‘What’s he gonna do about it?’” he repeats, venom in his voice. “Oh of course, cause it’s my baby. Of course you’d assume that,” he practically spits at you. You try to stutter out a response, but nothing comes up. How could you not assume that, when you’ve only seen him taking care of her like she’s his responsibility?
You thought all staff lived in small bungalows, but the place you reach is more like a one-person studio. Sunghoon sits Chaewon down on a couch, covers her shoulders with a blanket and brings her a tall glass of water.
“So, whose is it then?” you ask again, eyes darting back and forth between the three figures that stare back at you. Sunghoon starts towards you, an accusing finger out, but Chaewon stops him.
“It’s fine, Sunghoon.” She sighs then lifts her gaze to look at you. Her eyes seem drained, like her tears took everything out of her. “It’s Heeseung’s,” she answers plainly, and you think your eyes bulge out of your face. What you’d witnessed earlier starts to make more sense in your head.
Next to you, Jake looks like he’ll explode if he has to keep in the words he wants to say any longer. “That bastard Heeseung. She needs money to get an operation, and she needs it soon, but he doesn’t give a shit,” Jake spits.
“But, Heeseung, he’s got money, I’m sure if you just ask him, he’ll-”
“Baby? Is that your name?” Chaewon asks softly, interrupting you. “Well, you don’t know shit about my problems, Baby,” she continues, her tone doing a 180. “You don’t think I’ve asked him? You don’t think he knows?”
“But-”
“Go back to your playpen, Baby,” she dismisses you, a finality to her tone. Sunghoon just glares at you while Jake shrugs, so you decide there’s nothing you can do than leave, and head back to your bungalow, heart heavy, but determined to help Chaewon out. There has to be something you can do, you just know it.
-
The next day, you pretend to help Heeseung set the tables for the lunch service to have a talk with him. You waste no time starting your interrogation, not even greeting him before diving straight into it.
“I know about Chaewon, Heeseung. You need to help her out,” you say sternly, using a random water pitcher you’d found at the entrance to fill up crystal glasses.
“Well hello to you too, Baby,” he says with a sarcastically sweet tone. His fake smile drops when he sees you won’t play into his game. “I don’t need to do anything,” he scoffs. “Not like it’s any of your business anyway.”
“Haven’t you seen her? You can’t leave her alone in a time like this, she needs your help. Even if it’s mostly financial help. It’s the least you can do.”
“Girls like her, they get into trouble all the time, okay? Hey, watch what you’re doing!” he whisper-yells when water spills over one of the glasses, not wanting to rouse the suspicion of any of the diners around.
“Yeah, because of guys like you,” you bite back, but he ignores you.
“She was bound to get knocked up at some point, going around like that.” You follow as he moves on the next table. 
“So you’re not going to do anything? Just put her in a bad situation and then run away?”
He finally turns to face you, looking at you like he’s exasperated, like you’re the bad guy here. “That girl’s not my problem, okay? She brought this upon herself.”
You take a step closer to him, a fakely sweet smile plastered on your lips. “You’re a jerk, Heeseung. You stay away from me, stay away from my sister, or I’ll have you fired.” You then raise the jug of water up to his chest, and keep that same smile as you pour it on him before marching away, ignoring the gasps that echo all around the room and Heeseung as he yells at you to come back.
-
Your mom is struggling to get the ball in when you find your parents on one of the many golf courses. Your dad smiles as he sees you nearing them, asking you if everything’s alright.
“Daddy.”
“Baby?” he answers, looking amused by your seriousness.
“You know how you say I should always do my best to help out others when they need it?”
“Of course.”
“Well, I’ve got friends who need some help.”
“What kind of help?” he asks, slightly frowning as he realizes you’re not being serious for no reason.
You take a big breath in. “Money.” You don’t like asking your dad for money, but it’s the only solution you’ve come up with.
“And just how much money?”
“Three hundred dollars?” you say, your sentence coming out like a question as you slightly wince in apprehension.
Your father sighs. “That’s a serious amount of money, Baby. This isn’t anything illegal, is it?” he adds after a beat, taking you aback. Is this illegal? If it is, your father doesn’t need to know it.
“No, no, of course not, Daddy,” you say, trying your best at a reassuring smile. It seems to work, because his expression softens and he smiles back.
“Of course not,” he repeats, “I should know that.” He takes you in his arms. “I’ll have the money ready for you tonight.” You hug him back, thanking him before skipping away to whatever activity you might find to distract yourself before the evening.
-
After dinner, when your dad’s given you an envelope filled with cash, you throw a quick excuse your parents’ way before rushing to the staff quarters, making sure no one sees you on your way there. The music emanating from the common room makes you hopeful you’ll find the people you’re looking for.
And indeed, you do - Sunghoon and Chaewon are holding each other close, her head resting on his chest, and swaying together to the slow and sensual rhythm of the music at the back of the room when you find them. You feel a ping of something uncomfortable in your heart but ignore it and head straight towards them. Chaewon turns around when you tap on her shoulder, her and Sunghoon both looking at you with unmasked animosity, but you just smile as you hand her the envelope. Jake notices you and walks over to stand next to his cousin.
“Here you go. I hope it’s enough,” you say, relieved to see her surprised but ecstatic expression when she opens the envelope and sees all the bills in there. Jake wears a similar expression but Sunghoon just leers down at you.
“Oh my God, Baby, this is amazing,” Chaewon exclaims in disbelief. “How did you get Heeseung to change his mind?”
You purse your lips. “It wasn’t Heeseung…”
She frowns slightly but her eyes widen at the realization that if it isn’t from Heeseung, it has to be from you. “Oh, Baby, thank you so much,” she murmurs.
“Yeah, takes a real saint to ask daddy,” Sunghoon says sarcastically. Chaewon’s head snaps towards you and she starts to shake her head, forcing the envelope back into your hands.
“I can’t accept it, then.”
“Why not?” you, Sunghoon and Jake blurt at the same time.
“Who cares where it comes from? You need the money,” Sunghoon says, trying to persuade her, but she just continues to shake her head.
“It doesn’t feel right. And I can’t go to the appointment anyway,” she chuckles defeatedly, and Sunghoon looks at Jake in confusion.
“I can only get her an appointment next Thursday, when you guys have your act at the Sheldrake,” he explains guiltily, as if it’s his fault.
“For fuck’s sake,” Sunghoon breathes out, looking up to the ceiling in despair, hands on his hips.
“Can’t you miss just that one night?” you ask innocently, but apparently it is the stupidest question on earth, judging from the harsh glare Sunghoon fixes you with.
“No, we can’t miss just that one night. This is our job, and if we cancel the Sheldrake, not only do we lose this summer’s salary, but also next summer’s gig. Our livelihoods depend on this,” he hisses.
“So… can’t someone fill in?” you ask again, and wince when he raises his tone.
“No, Little Miss Fix-It, someone can’t fill in. Everybody works here, unlike you. Unless you wanna do it,” he adds after a pause, chuckling sarcastically, “take some time off of Simon Says?”
You can only glare back at him, even though you couldn’t look as condescending as him if you tried. You’re just trying to help them out and find solutions, no need to be so rude about it. Jake looks back and forth between the two of you, a look on his face like he’s thinking things over.
“You know, maybe she could do it. You weren’t so bad last time, were you, Baby?” he says, eyebrows raised at you as he waits for your answer, a hopeful look on his face that makes you feel bad for letting him down.
You shake your head fervently - learning a complicated choreography and performing it in front of an audience is unthinkable to you. “No, no, I can’t even do the merengue.”
“C’mon!” he insists.
“You heard her, Jake, she can’t even do the merengue,” he repeats, adding venom to the words.
Chaewon doesn’t seem to think this is such a bad idea either. “But Sunghoon, you could teach anyone to dance, you’re an amazing leader,” she says eagerly, but Sunghoon just rolls his eyes and sighs.
“The act is in a week, even if I was the best teacher in the world, she couldn’t learn the whole routine in that time. It’s a lost cause,” he sneers, his gaze fixated harshly on you. You’re not sure whether the lost cause refers to the situation or to you.
You squint your eyes at him, trying to match his gaze. It’s one thing that you think it’s a bad idea, but it’s a whole other thing now that he’s so against it. Jake’s right - you weren’t that bad last week, you’re sure you could be an okay replacement. Sunghoon raises an eyebrow at you as if in challenge.
Challenge accepted, you think.
-
“Now it’s one, two, three, four,” Sunghoon says, synchronizing each number to the beat of the music. “You don’t dance ‘til the two.” This is probably the fifth time he tells you this in the past half-hour, and although you know what you’re meant to do, your body will simply not listen to your head.
You’re in the dance studio, trying as hard as you can to get your body to shape itself into what Sunghoon wants it to be. Arms up at shoulder-level, core engaged, back straight, head proud. He may repeat those directions over and over again, you aren’t used to holding yourself like that, and it’s a lot harder than it seems, even though he makes it look so natural.
He moves the tonearm of the record player so that the music starts from the beginning again and walks towards you, his stern gaze never leaving your eyes as if to say, “you better not mess it up this time.” It makes the room feel a lot hotter than it actually is, and the strong summer heat coming in from the open windows doesn’t help.
You can’t help but wonder if Sunghoon is this impatient with all of his students - surely he’d be out of a job if he actually behaved like this with the fancy ladies of the resort, so he must have some kind of problem with you. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out that he isn’t the fondest of you, anyway. The fact that you’re only doing this to help him out and not for your own pleasure seems lost on him, but you’d rather not aggravate the situation by pointing that out.
His hands firmly holding yours, his gaze still fixed on your face, you hear your cue approaching and tell yourself “on the two, on the two, on the two,” but it’s no use, your foot starts to move a beat too early. But this time, Sunghoon anticipates your movement and says, softer than you expect ‘no,’ and you put your foot back down instead of stepping on his like countless times before. Then he instructs ‘now’, and you finally get it right, getting into the flow of the music properly. You repeat this process a few more times, and only take a break when he’s sure you won’t make mistakes anymore.
You’re halfway through a one-liter bottle of water when you hear him say, “Finally got the basic footwork down, only took an hour.” You scoff at the snarky remark and are about to come back at him with something just as petty, but you notice the shadow of a smile on his lips, more playful than patronizing, so you bite it back and try to suppress a smile of your own. With Sunghoon, you’ll take what you can get.
He doesn’t give you more than another minute of break, ignoring your complaints and urging you back towards him in the center of the room. “Let’s move on to the second part.”
You only have a week to get ready, so you practice like crazy, Sunghoon trying to reduce his working hours as much as possible and you slipping away from your parents and sister whenever you can. You go over the steps on your own, taking any opportunity to do so, whether that’s when you find yourself alone in your family’s rental or as you walk back across the bridge and lawn to the main grounds, letting your body move to the music in your head.
When she can make it, Chaewon also comes to practice with you. Her presence is always helpful - she sometimes stands behind you, holding you by the hips and correcting your posture, sometimes replaces either you or Sunghoon so you can watch her and mirror her moves from different perspectives. 
Although she was originally wary and dismissive of you, when she saw how intent you were on helping her, a complete stranger, out, her view of you completely changed. You can tell how thankful she is by the constant kindness she shows you, encouraging you to compensate for Sunghoon’s lack of praise.
Indeed, all three of you are surprised and happy to see how quickly you’re progressing, but Sunghoon has a knack for keeping his emotions behind a veil and his praises to a minimum. Sure, that means his compliments, his small ‘you did well today’ or ‘good job’ make you blush a little redder, but you wouldn’t complain if they were more frequent, either.
What he can’t hide from you, however, is that he is clearly starting to become more tolerant of your presence. You’d like to say you knew all along that he would soften up eventually, but truth is, you were scared he was going to stay this cold for the length of your time together, so it comes as even more of a relief when he stops reprimanding you so harshly for small mistakes or when he smiles along with you as you celebrate getting through a big chunk of the routine flawlessly for the first time. When one day, he actually laughs with you instead of berating you, you almost explode in on yourself out of joy. You convince yourself that those butterflies you feel erupting in your stomach is because it’s so surprising to see someone usually so guarded letting himself go a bit more, that it isn’t just the simple sound of his laughter making you feel lightheaded.
On the fourth day of practice, you manage to find enough time to practice for almost three hours in a row. Towards the end of the session, after feeling like you were about to pass out due to extortion, you have a strange surge of energy. Sunghoon, on the other hand, has almost exhausted his very impressive stamina, but still wants to go through what you’ve learned up until now.
The music starts, and you don’t know if it was this surge of energy, or if it was Sunghoon’s tired expression that made you want to tease him, but you decide it’d be funny to repeat back to him the directions he always gives you - you know them by heart at this point. 
“Hey! Head up,” you joke as you face each other again after a spin. “Lock your frame. Wiggly arms!” You’re happy to see he laughs along with you, shaking his head in amused disbelief at you.
The laughter immediately halts, however, when at the end of the routine, because of your lack of concentration, your foot slips and you find yourself much closer to him than necessary for the ending pose. Your breath hitches in your throat, and your cheeks immediately burn up. After a long moment, Sunghoon looks away, clearing his throat, and you take a big step back from him as if being any nearer might make you spontaneously combust.
“That was, um, that was good today. Good job,” he says quickly, then rushes to grab his stuff and leave the room. Forget the proximity the two of you were just in - was that a flustered Sunghoon you got to see? And was it because of you? It’s almost unfathomable that you could render him shy like that, but a small smirk plays on your lips at the idea of it.
Over the week, you start reaching for the thin tank tops and shorts you own, and steal some of Seeun’s lipgloss and mascara. If Sunghoon notices it, he doesn’t say anything. But perhaps, you’re the one who hasn’t noticed the way he glances at you in the mirror when you take a break or practice on your own, how he can’t help raking his eyes over your body when you aren’t looking, unable to reign his curiosity in. That you might want to get some kind of a reaction out of him doesn’t even cross his mind - because no matter how attractive he may be, he can’t imagine that a serious, educated girl like you with big plans for the future might be interested in a guy like him.
So even if his iciness thaws a bit, he doesn’t let it show that having you around messes with his head, and stays a stern instructor who wants you to get the routine down to a T. “We can’t afford to make any mistakes,” he always says. But there’s something about the way he delivers his instructions sometimes that makes it impossible for you to concentrate on the dance. He’s always either dancing with you, your bodies just a foot apart, or sitting on the floor close to you and watching you, so he doesn’t need to speak so loud for you to hear him. It’s this quietness mixed with the strictness of his tone that makes your insides completely melt. Soft yet rigid, intimate yet steely. 
“Don’t put your heel down, stay on your toes.” 
“Keep your eyes focused on me, especially when you’re spinning.” 
“Always keep your core and your head straight.” 
Words that have no double-meaning whatsoever, yet it doesn’t take long for you to start wondering if he keeps this tone everywhere. Whenever those thoughts cross your mind, you’re practically unable to look him in the eye and speak without stammering. He makes you dizzier than the spins you practice.
It’s on the fifth day that you realize how deep your infatuation with Sunghoon truly is. The routine isn’t exceptionally long, so after five days of practicing, you have all the steps down, except for the lifts which he keeps putting off for later. He watches you do it on your own, and although he admits you know it in and out, he said there’s still something missing. The pang of disappointment you feel at his words soon turns into anticipation as he comes to stand in front of you, closer than usual, and brings your hand to his chest, keeping both of his own over yours.
“Feel this?” he says, voice almost a whisper. By now, you’ve gotten used to the intensity with which he always stares at you, but this time seems different; there’s something more vulnerable, more intimate about his gaze, something you don’t quite understand. You just stare right back at him, unable to look away.
You aren’t sure what he means so you lightly shake your head no. “Here,” he insists, pressing your hand more firmly to his chest, and it clicks. He wants you to feel his heartbeat. Your eyebrows jump slightly, and his lips form a small smile at your realization. “Close your eyes.” he says softly, and you do as told. 
“The steps aren’t enough, Baby. You have to feel the music. It’s within you, it’s within me, it’s within all of us. You just gotta find it.” This was something you’d heard a lot of times before, said by singers on the radio, by some of your friends in the high school choir - that they felt the music. But you’d never quite understood what they meant until now, until Sunghoon showed you. With two fingers, he starts tapping against the back of your hand to the rhythmic beat of his heart. 
“Du-dum, du-dum. Feel it now?” he asks, and you nod, too transfixed to produce actual words. His smile widens, and your heart swells because of his expression, more affectionate than you’ve ever seen it. 
“Now dance.”
Your body moves as if of its own accord, the moves now ingrained in your muscles and coming as a reflex to you. Together, you go through the whole routine with no music. You hadn’t needed to check yourself in the mirror to know you did perfectly - the smile on Sunghoon’s face tells you enough.
When the evening rolls around, there’s a lightness to your demeanor that both confuses and delights your parents, but even if they asked you to explain what happened, you don’t think you’d be able to find the words to do so.
-
Sure, Sunghoon doesn’t look at you like he hates you with every fiber of his being anymore, and he even dares crack a smile or laugh once in a while, but it’s not like you’re the best of friends either. There are still moments when he gets frustrated with you - one of those being the time you practice the opening of the routine. He hadn’t yet taught you that part, but as soon as he showed it to you, you understood why.
You stand back to him, heads turned towards each other. Your heights match perfectly so that, when standing so close together, his lips are right in your eyeline. His beautiful, plump, kissable lips that you find yourself thinking about too many times.
Your left arm stays by your side but your right arm is raised so that he can trail his fingertips all the way from your hand down to your waist - a sensual move that, despite setting the tone for the routine, you are not at all ready to perform. Not because it requires any kind of complex technique or years of practice, far from that, but because you don’t yet have the professionalism that Sunghoon, Chaewon and other performers like them have. Nevermind his fingers brushing past your armpit, which is obviously a ticklish place, you can’t handle the seriousness that comes with such intimacy, nor can you resist the urge to laugh every time. This, of course, does not please Sunghoon.
The first couple times it happens, he just rolls his eyes and sighs, thinking you just need to get your head in the dance and then you’d be fine. So he gets back into position, again, again, and again, and even though your full-blown laughters turn into quieter snorts or chuckles, you still can’t find it in you to keep a straight face. 
After the sixth time, his patience runs out. You can tell he wants to blow up at you by the redness of his face and the iciness of his stare, but when he speaks, he doesn’t raise his voice - his tone is so harsh that there’s no need for it. 
“You pull yourself together, or we’re done here.”
Whether he means you’re done for the day, or completely done with the practice, meaning all your efforts this week go to waste and you don’t perform on Saturday, you aren’t sure, but you don’t think this is the right time to question him. You get back into position, and finally, on the seventh try, you don’t laugh. After so many times, his touch doesn’t tickle so much - rather, it burns. Now, instead of resisting laughter, you have to keep yourself from completely melting under his touch.
But then, you realize that this is what you’ve been daydreaming about this whole time - to have him close, to have him touch you. Even though this was still part of the routine, the point of this move was to show the chemistry between the two dancers, the attraction they needed to, or at least pretend to, have for each other to take the performance from good to mesmerizing. Good thing you didn’t need to pretend.
Of course, Sunghoon has touched your waist and shoulders thousands of times by now, but after so many days together, you start to crave a different kind of touch, and in different places. You never let yourself relish too much in the warmth of his palms for fear of getting too used to it, and, worse than anything, missing it when he’s gone - as if that wasn’t already the case. But with this opening move, you can finally let yourself melt under his touch and play it off as being really into the dance. If anything, he’d probably be glad you’re letting your reserves go.
And so you do. Eyes closed, head tilted towards him and slightly back, revealing more of your neck, you feel his fingertips brush along your side until they reach your hand, and you start dancing. For the two minutes of the routine, you aren’t even thinking of the steps anymore, only looking into his eyes and letting your muscle memory do the work for you.
At the end, you stay in the final pose for a few seconds longer than usual, looking into each other’s eyes. Sunghoon isn’t the most expressive person ever, so you’d quickly learned how to decipher the slightest changes in his face. In this moment, he looks at you like he sees you for the first time, really sees you, with something like pride in his eyes. You smile at each other, and his next words make your heart skip a beat in surprise at first, then swell in satisfaction.
“I think that was the best you’ve danced so far. If you do it like this on Saturday night, it’ll be perfect.”
-
However, there’s one last thing you needed to learn: lifts. Sunghoon has been putting them off almost the whole week, saying you’d get to them later, that you needed to get the other steps down before. There are two in the routine, and whenever one comes up, Sunghoon says “that’s for later,” and keeps going with the dance. Except later never comes, and soon enough, you only have a day left to learn and perfect those lifts. The stress of not mastering them on time starts to get to your head, and your stress must be contagious, because Sunghoon explodes for the first (and only) time on Friday afternoon when you make a mistake in the basic steps.
“Are you kidding me?” he suddenly yells, taking a wide step back away from you and looking at you with uncharacteristic anger. Sure, he wasn’t always the most pleasant with you, and you were no stranger to Sunghoon’s expressions of or dislike, but you hadn’t seen anger on him until now. No matter how beautiful he is, you have to admit this isn’t his best look.
“What?” you respond, voice at the same level as his, not understanding his sudden burst of impatience.
“What?! This is a basic step you shouldn’t even be thinking about anymore, let alone not get right. The performance is tomorrow, you can’t be making stupid mistakes now!” He sighs in frustration and tears his gaze away from you for a moment, then looks back, his eyes hard. “Is this your idea of fun?”
You scoff and cross your arms over your chest. “My idea of fun? You really think I’m doing this for fun?” He doesn’t say anything, just keeps on staring at you. “I’ve been breaking my back and sneaking around for almost a whole week just to save your ass, I don’t get anything out of it, and you have the nerve to ask me if I’m doing this for fun?” You can see he wants to say something, but you don’t let him. “Oh, and I’m glad you seem to remember the performance is tomorrow, because I’ll have you know you still haven’t taught me those damn lifts! How can you get mad at me for a small mistake when you won’t even teach me the whole routine?!”
You’re out of breath after screaming so loud and so quickly, but still Sunghoon doesn’t move for a few seconds, until suddenly, he pivots and walks towards the door. At the threshold, he turns to you and tells you to follow him, as if that should have been obvious. He doesn’t give you any time for questions so you run after him. Outside, a heavy summer rain is coming down, and your clothes are soaked through after just ten seconds. You walk a few steps behind him as he heads to his car, muttering a curse under his breath when he realizes he’s forgotten his keys inside the locked vehicle. You let out a small shriek when he breaks one of the backseat windows to open the door from inside, reaching for his keys still resting in the ignition. You just stand there, watching him in confusion, until he calls to you from the driver’s seat. “C’mon! There’s a place I need to show you.”
You know it’s a bad idea - you’ve already been gone for over an hour, and if you leave with him for God knows how much longer, your parents would start to wonder where you are. But there’s something about his face, his anger that had completely disappeared and let way for what seemed like excitement, the rain pouring down and the loud sound of his car’s motor; it all creates a rush of adrenaline in you, and you want to know what he has in store. So you get in the car, and as soon as you’re buckled in, Sunghoon backs out of the parking lot and starts driving, the destination completely unknown to you, but you trust him enough to not be bothered by that.
The two of you drive for around ten minutes in comfortable silence, sometimes catching the other’s eye in the rearview mirror and bursting into giggles. You don’t know why, but when you open your window and let your arm out, letting out a big whoop, he laughs like it’s the most amazing thing he’s ever seen.
In the week you spend together with Sunghoon, these are the moments you love the most. When he’s seemingly let go of his barriers and lets you see a side of him that you don’t think many people get access to, a side to which laughter comes easy. Although it gives you whiplash when he so suddenly goes back to his serious and stonelike nature, you’d rather get glimpses of his carefree self than forever be stuck with the face he usually puts on with you. You aren’t sure if he is always one or the other with other people, or if he keeps his tendency to almost switch personalities with everyone, but you’re just glad it doesn’t feel like he’d always prefer to be somewhere else than with you anymore - and that it almost feels like he enjoys, or at the very least tolerates spending time in your company now.
He parks in what seems to be the middle of nowhere, on a small patch of gravel between the road and a forest, right before a bridge that crosses over a current. He gets out and starts towards what looks like a forest, telling you good-humoredly to hurry up and follow him. The rain has calmed down to a drizzle, gentle as it falls on your shoulders and a refreshing break from the sweltering heat of the past few days. Faster than you expected, you’ve reached your destination, which is a point where the current is calm and a wide trunk tree crosses it. You have no idea how Sunghoon ever found this place, but you’ve never seen him wear such an ecstatic expression, so you don’t even question it.
He takes his shoes off and gets on the tree trunk, spreading his arms wide to keep himself from falling. You sit down, one leg on each side of the trunk, and watch amusedly as he titters and regains his balance, sending sheepish smiles your way when he gets close to plummeting into the water. 
“Where’d you learn to dance?” you ask suddenly, the question forming in your head and leaving your lips simultaneously.
He considers you for a second, then plops himself down on the trunk, letting his legs sway over the emptiness. He looks out to the current when he speaks, as if talking to the air around him rather than directly to you. “I lived and went to school in a low-income neighborhood, so there were always these people coming and going, trying to get kids like us to start working and get out of the neighborhood, or make it better or something. One day these people came in, saying they were giving out lessons to become a dance instructor, and it was the only one that ever caught my interest. I did it, aced the test, and they gave me a spot here that I managed to keep every summer. Haven’t wanted to do anything else since.” He looks back at you and you catch a glimpse of cautiousness, perhaps a fear of finding judgment in your eyes, but his expression turns friendly again when he finds only curiosity and sympathy there.
“What about the rest of the year? Do you also have a teaching job back home?” you ask, daring to go further in your interrogation of Sunghoon’s personal life. Just a few days ago, you’d never have dreamed of asking him something like this, but there’s something about him today that makes you think it’s okay to get closer, if you tread lightly.
He snickers humorlessly and looks down at his hands, palms resting on the trunk in front of him. “I’m lucky I get to escape that place just three months a year when I’m working here. Otherwise, I’m stuck with the old man and his carpenting business I’m fated to inherit when he retires.” Before you can say anything in response, he jumps back up on his feet and holds a hand out to you, making a motion for you to come to him. You’re slightly taken aback at the sudden switch in his demeanor, but you know better than to force anything with Sunghoon. “We didn’t come here to chit-chat, did we? Come over here.”
Devilish - there’s no other word to describe his expression at that moment.
“Nuh-uh, I’m not getting on there, I’m gonna fall and break an ankle,” you immediately protest, but he doesn’t need to say anything, just approaches you with a mischievous smile and reaches his hands out to you - and you take them, letting him bring you to your feet.
You climb up tentatively, glad to see the trunk isn’t slippery even after the rain, and hold on tight to Sunghoon’s hands until you’ve managed to find your own balance. “Okay, what now?” you say breathily, half-paralyzed in terror and half-pumped with adrenaline.
“Let’s dance,” he says, a playful smile teasing his lips.
“What, here?” you reply, looking at him like he suggested you rob a bank.
“Yes, here.” He grabs your hand tighter and brings you closer to him, securing an arm around your waist before you can stumble off of the trunk. It’s definitely your near-death experience and not his proximity that makes your heart beat faster, definitely.
He quietly hums the song, but you’ve heard it so many times at this point that you could do the dance with no music at all. More than dancing the same steps, there’s something electrifying about knowing that the same song is playing in your and Sunghoon’s heads right now. You wonder if he feels it playing in his heart too.
What you’re doing isn’t quite dancing - you’re just taking small, careful, clumsy steps together, giggling as you try to stay atop the trunk and letting out a yelp when he attempts to spin you but it only results in you two almost falling off. He holds you close as if making sure that if one of you goes down, the other goes down with them. Your face is right in front of his chest, and when you risk a look up at him, he’s already gazing down at you, his playfulness making the light in his eyes shine even brighter. 
Your breath hitches in your throat when his eyes drift down to your lips, moving as you talk, but you still manage to get the words out, whispering them in the small space between the two of you. “You’re supposed to teach me lifts, aren’t you?” 
“Yeah. Let’s go,” he whispers back, but makes no move to leave the trunk or distance himself from you.
“Okay,” you breathe. You repeat the word and take a step back, somehow gathering the will to tear yourself away from him, from his eyes fixated on your parted lips. “Let’s go.”
He leads you back through the woods to a wide clearing. After the downpour of the early afternoon, the sun is starting to shine again, rays of light making their way through the grayish clouds and high pines, and bathing your surroundings in a comforting glow. Sunghoon stands facing the sun, and the sunlight hits his face so perfectly, you have to keep yourself from snorting at how ridiculously handsome he is.
The only instructions he gives you are as follows: “You’ve seen lifts before. You know you just run to me to gather momentum, then when you’re close enough, bend your knees and keep your core and whole body tight as I lift you. But the most important thing is that you trust me, alright? If you don’t, we could both get hurt.”
The first few times, you just practice the running and the picking up, not wanting to venture into the actual overhead lift right away. It’s easy enough - just find the right distance, the right speed, and remember not to let your body go limp in Sunghoon’s hands.
But when you’ve gotten the hang of it, and Sunghoon tells you to try the complete lift, you freeze. You just stop right in front of him, looking at him with wide eyes. “This is too scary, I can’t do it.”
To your surprise, instead of letting out an annoyed sigh or rolling his eyes, Sunghoon smiles. His eyes go soft and the corners of his lips tug up.
“What’s scary?”
“Falling. Getting hurt, hurting you,” you say, looking into his eyes with the hope that he’ll make all your anxieties go away.
“Don’t think about those things. Don’t think about anything, just trust me. Let yourself be picked up first, and then we’ll worry about your form and how to keep it, okay?”
“O-okay.” You walk a few steps back to regain some distance, and he nods reassuringly as you take a deep breath in, and a deep breath out. You run to him, and as if his words had gone straight from his mouth to your limbs, you let him lift you - and the world looks so different from this high up.
You marvel at the feeling of floating in the air, but you quickly start to feel yourself slipping forward, and Sunghoon is yelling “Hold it, hold it!” and before you know it, you’ve dipped forward and fallen right on top of him. Thankfully, it was a slow fall, and he had time to soften the blow, so that the immediate reaction from the both of you is to burst into laughter.
You roll over so that you’re laying on your back next to him and rest your palms on your stomach, feeling it shake with laughter. Once you’ve calmed down, you turn your head towards him and he imitates you a second later. You probably look like idiots, out-of-breath and smiling widely at each other in this field, but there isn’t a thing you would change about this moment.
“Do you know what the best place to practice lifts is?” he asks, and you watch how his dimples disappear and reappear as he talks. You shake your head. His dimples deepen. “The water.”
You change locations again, heading back towards the current and finding the lake it stems from. You and Sunghoon turn your backs to each other as he takes his t-shirt off and you, your denim shorts, not wanting them to weigh you down in the water. When you turn back around, you have to force yourself to detach your eyes from his perfectly defined abs and shoulders thanks to years of dancing and physical exertion almost every day. You stare out at the lake like it’s the first time you’ve ever seen so much water, otherwise you’d be gawking at him like it’s the first time you’ve ever seen a man. Your cheeks burn up when you feel his eyes on your legs, taking your half-naked figure in, and he chuckles as you rush to hide yourself in the water.
Once in the water, you practice the actual lift, which consists of Sunghoon hoisting you high above his head and you keeping a straight posture, with your arms perpendicular to your body and your chest slightly lifted as if you were truly soaring through the air. It already looks difficult, and yet it’s even harder than it looks. It does help being in the water because at least you’re not scared for your life when you lose your balance and dive forward, but you let out a yelp nonetheless each time it happens. Sunghoon keeps on telling you to hold your posture, but each attempt ends in you falling into the water and bringing him down with you.
You drift apart and swim back towards each other every time, your arms wrapping around his neck and his hands coming to your hips to get back into position for the lift. You’re having a lot of fun, too much fun, probably, when the performance is just a day away - but getting to see Sunghoon’s smile and hear his laugh as you play around and try your best at the lift makes it worth it. When the strap of your tank top slips over your shoulder, you notice out of the corner of your eye Sunghoon’s hand reaching for it just as you put it back yourself. He plays it off by raking a hand through his wet hair, getting it out of his eyes, and smiles shyly at you when your gazes lock. You have no idea what’s going to happen after the performance, if you’ll stay friends or if he’ll pretend like this never even happened - all you know is that you’d be happy doing this all summer.
“One last time?”
-
And just like that, it’s late Saturday afternoon and the performance is just an hour away. You barely eat or speak during dinner, partly out of nervousness, but mostly because you want your lie of having a headache and needing to rest in your room more believable. Chaewon had said she’d help you put your dress on and get ready before the show, so when you’ve escaped the dinner table, you rush to her cabin.
But just as you exit the building, an old woman you recognize as Mrs Jung walks in. She must be surprised at your sudden appearance because she slightly bumps into the door and drops her bag. An unusual amount of wallets fall from it, but you don’t think too much of it - you’ve seen rich people do weirder things. 
You bend down to help her gather her things, and she chuckles lightly, thanking you. “Such a sweet girl, isn’t she, Harold?” she says to her husband who had appeared behind the door as well. You wish them a nice evening and part ways, gushing to yourself over how cute old couples are as you head to the Chaewon’s cabin.
She does your hair, pulling it into a tight bun and securing every stray strand with a bobby pin. You have no experience with makeup since it’s always been off-limits in your house, so she expertly applies eyeshadow, mascara and lipstick to your face. The sticky feel of it is unfamiliar but once you look in the mirror, you almost can’t look away. It’s still you, of course it is, but the bright colors make you look glamorous, like performing in front of a large crowd is just routine for you. You thank Chaewon, a huge smile on her face, and watch her own light up in relief that you like the makeup.
As she zips your dress up, a flowy baby pink dress she got out of her closet just for you, you repeat back all the instructions Sunghoon has given you over the week to make sure you remember everything. “I just gotta keep my head up, keep my core and my arms straight, follow the mu-”
“Thank you, Baby,” Chaewon quietly interrupts, and the slight tremble in her voice and the vulnerability with which she looks at you lets you know she really means it. You stop your declamation immediately and smile at her, kindness in your eyes.
She looks down and tries to find her words. “You know, I- I just want you to know that I, I don’t sleep around, and Heeseung, I really thought he loved me, and-”
You can see the tears already forming in her eyes so you bring her into a tight hug, resting your cheek against the side of her head. “I know, Chaewon, don’t worry. And even if you did sleep around, it wouldn’t matter, Heeseung should take responsibility no matter what. We’re all here to help you. Don’t worry.” You lean back to hold her face in your hands and try to give as reassuring a smile as you can.
“I’m scared, Baby,” she whispers, trying to calm her sobs to get the words out.
“Everything’s gonna be fine, Chaewon,” you say, and you hope she believes it as much as you do. “Everything’s gonna be just fine. You’ve got Sunghoon, and Jake, and you’ve got me too.” 
She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath in. When she opens them again, she grabs your hands and shakes them between the two of you, mirroring your smile. “Okay, okay,” she murmurs. “Sorry, this isn’t the best time for me to break down. You feeling ready?” she asks, and even if it’s just for now, you’re glad she’s feeling better and got to let her emotions out.
“Not at all, I’m so nervous. I don’t want to mess something up and let you or Sunghoon down,” you admit, your smile wavering for a second.
“Whatever happens, you won’t let us down,” she says, squeezing your hands. “It’s amazing, what you’re doing.” 
You can’t help but look away at her words. “It’s the least I can do,” you mumble.
“No, Baby, you’re doing more than most people would. And Sunghoon, he might have his own way of showing it, but he’s extremely grateful for you,” she says, and it puts a smile on your face.
“By his own way of showing it, do you mean not showing it at all?” you joke.
“That’s Sunghoon for you.” You giggle quietly together, but her eyes drift to the clock on the wall behind you and she lets out a sigh. “It’s time, Baby. And don’t worry, I know you’ll do amazing,” she says, bringing you into a brief hug.
You’re so nervous, everything that follows is a blur - leaving Chaewon’s cabin and sneaking over to Sunghoon’s car, the drive to the Sheldrake Hotel, the staff there leading you backstage, and finding your spot on the stage. You only snap out of it when the curtains lift and a voice booms from the speakers in the room, announcing “Sunghoon Park and partner dancing the mambo” as the audience breaks into polite claps.
The music starts, and Sunghoon can immediately feel the tension in your body. He trails his fingers all the way down your arm to your waist, just like you’d practiced a ton of times before, and he uses the proximity between the two of you to whisper “Relax” into your ear. “Just follow my lead, you’ve got this,” he says, loud enough for only you to hear, and extends his arm to send you spinning. 
You manage the first few steps, trying to let go of your anxiety, but it’s got a tight grip on your body and makes your stomach twist. You think it’s all over when you mess up a turn, going right instead of left, but Sunghoon’s quick to whisper “over here” and you find your way again. “Look at me,” Sunghoon says once you’re facing each other again, and you lock eyes with him. And for some reason, that works - focusing only on him makes you feel like it’s just the two of you in the room, just like so many times this past week, and it dissipates all your nerves, makes your muscle memory kick in. You finally let him lead you and follow the music, thinking of nothing but Sunghoon and dancing together.
And yet, when it’s time for the lift, you freeze again. You find your position and run to Sunghoon, just like you know you’re supposed to, but you can’t let him lift you, your limbs turning into lead in his hold. Thinking quickly, you come up with another step on the spot, hoping it isn’t too obvious to the audience you just messed up. Sunghoon takes the lead again, and the rest of the performance goes smoothly, the other moves and the smaller, easier lift realized perfectly by the both of you.
You finish off the number, and the sound of the applause directed at the two of you fills you with a pride you’d never felt before, a feeling much more satisfying than any good grade or won argument ever had. Another sort of daze fills your mind now, and it makes you feel like there’s a small cloud under your feet so that you’re floating instead of walking everywhere. It almost makes you miss the Jungs, but when you see the old couple slowly walking out of the room, you’re scared you might be done for.
You rush back to the parking lot with Sunghoon, whooping in excitement as soon as you're out of anyone’s earshot. In the backseat, you change out of your dress and back into your regular clothes.
“God, that was- that was amazing, I can’t believe you get to live this every week during the summer, it was just- my God…” you say, struggling to get your right hand through the sleeve of your blouse.
“Yeah? Did you have fun?” Sunghoon answers, a smile on his face that turns into a gulp when he sees your half-naked body in the rearview mirror. He can’t help but risk a few more glances, hoping you don’t notice.
“I did, I really did, but I- I messed up that one turn, and I didn’t do the lift-”
“That doesn’t matter,” Sunghoon says firmly. “You did real good, Baby.” And after a beat, he adds: “Thank you. You did real good.” Your eyes lock in the mirror but you look away before he can catch sight of your reddening cheeks.
“And oh my God, there was that couple, the, the-”
“The Jungs, right? Yeah, I saw them too,” Sunghoon chuckles. “I got so scared.”
“Right? Me too! They won’t say anything, will they, do you think?”
“Probably not. I don’t think they even recognized either of us.”
You button your jeans and climb your way over to the passenger seat next to Sunghoon, grateful for the lack of headrests in his car. It suddenly grows quiet between the two of you. You want to ask whether you’ll keep meeting now that you’ve done your part, but you’re afraid Sunghoon might want to have nothing to do with you from now on even if it doesn’t seem like he dislikes you anymore. So you stay silent, watching out of the window, sometimes turning your head towards Sunghoon and catching his eye, then smiling at each other shyly.
Something in you is screaming at you to reach out to him, brush a hand over his hair, interlace your fingers with his - any kind of touch. You thought the ball of nerves in your stomach would disappear after the show, but it’s still there, and it’s taken hold of your entire body now, the anticipation of whatever is to come almost unbearable. You notice Sunghoon’s gaze ping-ponging between you and the road, and the tightness with which he holds the steering wheel, and you dare let yourself hope, just a little bit, that he shares those same wild thoughts jumping around your mind.
When you reach the parking lot next to the staff quarters, Sunghoon is quick to get out of the car, while you rub at your eyes and lips, trying to get as much makeup off as you can. Your parents would most likely be in bed by now, but just in case they were still up, you didn’t want them to catch you with bright red lips and blue eyelids. Sunghoon walks around to your side and opens your door for you, even grabbing your hand to help you out of the car. Once you’re out, he takes your other hand in his, facing you as he walks slowly backwards, and with the way he’s gazing down at you, you think those unspoken thoughts might finally come into the light. But before either of you can say anything, you hear quick footsteps rushing towards you, and a familiar voice calling out to Sunghoon.
He swings around to find a panting, alarmed-looking Jake. “Sunghoon, it’s- it’s Chaewon, something went wrong, she’s not feeling well-”
Neither of you need to hear more before you’re running to the cabin, reaching it in record time. There’s way more people than there should be in and outside Chaewon’s room, all watching and doing absolutely nothing except for another girl you recognise as part of the dancing crew holding a wet cloth to her head as Chaewon, her face covered in sweat and her eyes shut tight in pain, moans and mumbles incoherently, slightly delirious from fever. The girl at her bed steps aside when she sees Sunghoon approaching, and he kneels next to Chaewon, holding her hand in both of his and reassuring her as best she can.
“It’s that doctor,” Jake starts, “he was so shady, had a folding table and a dirty knife, and I- I heard screams coming from that room, Hoon, awful screams, and I tried getting in and getting Chaewon out but they wouldn’t let me-”
What’s obvious to you right now is that Chaewon is in desperate need of an actual doctor, and nobody here can provide that for her, so you rush out of the room, and, as fast as your legs can carry you, run to your father and wake him up in a hurry, grabbing his doctor’s bag. You’re glad for your father’s blind trust in you - other than an instinctive “Is Seeun alright?”, which you nod your head at, he doesn’t ask any questions, just sees you need his help. He listens to your unclear and frantic explanations of what’s going on as he follows you to the staff cabin. 
“Alright, out of the way, everyone, give the girl some space,” your father says as he enters Chaewon’s room, the way he carries himself and speaks instantly commanding obedience from the group. People filter out as he takes Sunghoon’s spot next to Chaewon, checking her pulse and temperature. “Who’s responsible for this lady?” he asks without looking away from his patient.
“I am,” Sunghoon says, taking a step towards him. “Is she gonna be okay?” He seems so distressed you want to take him into your arms and tell him it’ll be okay, but you can’t do that - not here, not in front of your dad.
Your father turns his head to take a look at Sunghoon, his expression unreadable, then turns back to Chaewon, leaving Sunghoon’s question unanswered, floating in the air ominously.
He makes you all leave the room, and you wait for what feels like hours until your father finally comes out, his briefcase in hand, and announces that Chaewon just needs some rest and then she’d be okay. He lets Jake thank him and shake his hand agitatedly, but once again just stares Sunghoon down and ignores him when he tries to do the same. He takes you by the shoulder, making you walk away with him without saying goodbye to anyone. He’s silent for a few moments, waiting to have gone down a few steps before he speaks, and when he does, his voice is tense and almost trembles with anger.
“Is this what my money paid for? I’m disappointed in you, Baby. You’re not who I thought you were.” He doesn’t even let you defend yourself, just keeps walking without looking at you. “I don’t want you to hang around those people anymore, do you understand?”
“But dad-”
“I don’t want to hear it,” he says firmly, and the slight increase of volume catches you off guard. Not once has your dad raised his voice at you, or at least not since you were a child - that’s how you understand how truly upset he is at you. He finally turns around to look at you, his eyebrows furrowed. “And get that stuff off of your face before your mother sees it.”
The rest of the walk back to your bungalow is done in unbearable, utter silence, and you can’t wait to be away from your father and the anger pouring off of him in waves. But that silence doesn’t seem to go away, even when you finally reach your bed, even when your sister starts snoring quietly, completely oblivious to the events of the night. The silence grows so loud in your ears that it creates a fuzz all around your brain, making your head throb and blurring your thoughts, rendering them incomprehensible. The sheer weight of it forces your eyelids closed even though you don’t feel tired at all - there’s too much going on in your mind for you to fall asleep.
There’s the relief of your father having helped Chaewon, and the knowledge that she’ll be okay thanks to him; but there’s also the image of his disappointed expression etched into your brain and the words “You’re not who I thought you were” playing on a hellish loop. There’s the worry he won’t ever see you the way he used to, that you won’t be his little girl anymore, but there’s also the satisfaction of that exact thing, the liberation that comes with your father finally realizing you’re not perfect and make mistakes too.
And then there’s Sunghoon.
There’s Sunghoon, and his concern for Chaewon’s safety, his love for his friend that he’s known for years, the hurt on his face when your dad didn’t shake his hand, and the way he quickly retracted his own thereafter, a defeated expression like he was used to such disrespect. But before that, there’s his dimpled smile and sharp canines you find weirdly endearing, the carefree sound of his laughter after you fall on top of him in the water, his warm hands guiding you from step to step, the quick glimpses he throws your way when he thinks you’re not looking but hopes that you are. Even before that, there were the ice-covered walls he put around himself and his friends that could melt as quickly as they could freeze back up, until finally one day he opened the door for you to come in. There was the elegance in his moves and the feeling like all the air in the room had evaporated when you watched him dance, only for it to fill you back up when he took you by the hand and showed you how to let yourself go for the first time.
The fog in your mind clears at the thought of him, like sunlight forcing its way through gray clouds after a thunderstorm. You need to see him.
You need to check on him, to make sure he’s feeling alright, and laugh with him if he is or cry if he isn’t. You need to hold his head between your palms and graze a hand through his hair and do and say all the things you’ve been wanting to this week.
You climb out of your bed and grab the first cardigan you see, then slip your shoes on and make your way to the front door. You try to be as quiet as possible, but once outside, you hang back just for a few moments in case anyone has heard you leaving, so that if they come to check, you can just say you’re getting some fresh air on the front porch. No one seems to stir so you rush to Sunghoon’s cabin. It’s past midnight and the only light guiding you is that of the stars and the bright moon up above.
When Sunghoon opens his door, he seems at once relieved and surprised to find you there. “Baby,” he simply says, gazing down at you. He looks so tired, you think. The performance at the Sheldrake was just a few hours ago, but it already feels so far away.
“Hey. Can I- can I come in?” you ask, slightly out-of-breath from your walking so fast.
“Yeah, yeah, of course,” he says, turning his body to let you in his cabin. Since your first time here, that night you’d found Chaewon crying in the kitchen, you’d learned more about this place. Thanks to his seniority here, Sunghoon has a separate studio-like cabin further down the path where all the staff bungalows are, and it’s bigger than most of them, even though it’s still just one room that accommodates his bed, a closet, a desk, a sink and some other chairs, shelves and drawers.
A soft song is playing in the background and the main light is off, the small lamps here and there providing enough light for you to see. You hadn’t at all thought to look around when you were here last, so you’re curious to really see what Sunghoon’s living space is like.
You walk further into the room, taking in your surroundings and reveling in all the traces of Sunghoon’s life - discarded clothes here and there, a stack of record players from the early fifties to now, posters of movie stars and famous singers, some photos of him with Jake, Chaewon and other members of the entertainment team. He looks around like he’s seeing the room for the first time too, maybe trying to see it through your eyes and imagining what you could be thinking of it. He picks up clothes from the floor and from an armchair only to throw them in his closet, gesturing for you to sit down, and rubs the back of his neck in what seems like an embarrassed gesture.
“It’s not much… you’re probably used to a lot better…” he says with an apologetic tone.
“No, no, it’s great,” you say quickly, not wanting him to feel embarrassed. You look at him with a smile. “I love it here.”
He mirrors your smile, letting out a shaky breath of relief, then sits down at the edge of his bed, too far away for   your liking. The tense atmosphere from earlier in the car is back, filling the room with the silence of a thousand unspoken words. A beat passes before you speak up. “I’m sorry about the way my father treated you, Sunghoon. It wasn’t nice.”
Sunghoon looks genuinely shocked upon hearing your words and starts to shake his head fervently. “No, no, your father was great, the- the way he took care of Chaewon, I could never do anything like that in my life, he was amazing.”
“Yes, but I’m talking about you, Sunghoon, not Chaewon. He completely ignored you, he should have treated you with more respect.” His eyes find yours, and the look on his face like he wants to believe you but can’t quite bring himself to makes your heart ache.
He chuckles and lets his head hang low, looking down at his hands. “Why should he? I’m- I’m nothing,” he says quietly, so quietly that you think you might have misheard, because never in a hundred years would you have thought that someone like Sunghoon could think so lowly of himself.
Your surprise makes it hard to gather your words and say something coherent, but you try your best. “What- Sunghoon, how could you say that? You’re not nothing, you’re- you’re everything,” you say, the last word coming out breathy.
He looks at you like he’s never heard those words before, never had somebody tell him he was so much more than he thought he was - but maybe that’s because he’d never told anyone how he really felt. A pained expression flashes across his face, and you’re scared you might’ve said the wrong thing but his next words reassure you that that’s not it.
“You don’t understand… One month, I’m living off of scraps and struggling to make ends meet, and the next, rich ladies are stuffing hundred dollar bills in my pockets and giving me the key to their room. Everywhere I am, people just use me to get what they need. My dad basically forces me to work with him and doesn’t give a crap what I really want, the women here use me to escape the boredom of their lives, and Max and his asshole grandson Jay just want me to make as much money as I can so they can get even richer.” His voice gets louder the more he talks, the anger getting to him. He chuckles darkly, but his expression softens when he catches your gaze. “I have to live like this. If I start thinking I deserve more, that I- that I’m everything, like you say, I’ll never be satisfied. I’ll always want more. I can’t handle that.”
“It doesn’t have to be that way. It shouldn’t be that way,” you say quietly, shaking your head and looking at him sadly. You don’t know how to make him see that for the joy he brings everyone who gets to see him dance, for the care and safety he gives the people he loves, and the way he’s made you feel like you can finally escape the thoughts in your head, he deserves everything he wants in the world. You don’t know how to make him see his worth and the respect he deserves as much as anyone else.
He smiles at you wistfully, like he can see his own, long-gone, naive hopefulness on your face. “I’ve never met anyone like you, Baby. You look at the world and you think you can make it better.”
It’s your turn to chuckle humorlessly. “Yeah, I run to my daddy, like you said.”
“No,” he says firmly, his tone catching you off guard. “No, that took a lot of guts, doing what you did. I love that about you, you just go ahead and do things. You didn’t even know Chaewon, and yet you learned a whole professional routine in a week just because you wanted to and you could. And now you risked your relationship with your father just to help her out once again. You- you’re not scared of anything!”
“Me? I’m scared of everything!” you cry out, suddenly standing up, the emotions boiling in your stomach making you unable to sit any longer. “I’m scared of the disappointment in my parents’ eyes, of failing school, of being stuck in a life I can’t escape from…” Your gaze travels around the room before it settles on Sunghoon once again, your gazes locking each other in so tightly you don’t know if you’ll ever be able to look away. “But most of all,” you continue, voice shaky and desperate, “I’m scared of leaving this place and never, ever feeling again the way I do when I’m with you.”
His jaw tightens and he has to force himself to look away from you, his eyes focusing on a random object in the corner of the room. With the way he huffs air through his nose and tenses his whole body, he almost looks angry, but you know that’s not it - finally, after a week of torturous hesitation and not-knowing, you understand how Sunghoon feels about you. He feels just like you. All those lingering gazes, those small shocks of electricity whenever you touched, those loud heartbeats at his constant proximity, he felt them too, and it drove him crazy too; you’re sure of it.
Or at least, almost sure of it. And there’s only one way to confirm your suspicions.
Sunghoon thinks you’re not scared of anything, so you’re going to prove it to yourself. You take a step towards him, then another one, and another one, until you’re standing right in front of him. You extend a hand out to him and he doesn’t question it, just takes it and rises, now towering over you as you had over him just a second ago. You’re as close as you usually are when you dance together - or perhaps a bit closer than that.
“Dance with me,” you whisper into the space between your bodies.
“What, here?” he whispers back, finally looking at you. His gaze lingers in your eyes before dropping to your lips, his pupils slowly dilating - there’s your confirmation. 
“Yes, here,” you reply, echoing your conversation on the tree trunk, which somehow was only yesterday.
You wrap your arms around his neck just as his hands come up to hold you by the waist. It’s a position you’ve found yourselves in a hundred times by now, but tonight, it feels so different. The air around you is charged with electricity and all of your moves are purposeful, trying to make the other feel all that you’re feeling with just a touch.
Tight in each other’s arms, you sway to the slow rhythm of the music, your head resting in the crook of his neck while his hands travel from your waist, to your shoulder blades, back down to your hips. Even with two layers of clothing between your bodies, the feeling of having him so close sends shivers down your spine, even though your skin burns everywhere it comes into contact with him. Your breath makes goosebumps appear on the side of his neck, and when his grip on your hips tightens, you take it as a green light to start pressing faint kisses to his skin. He bunches the fabric of your blouse in his hands, slowly pulling it from the confines of your jeans and over your head, making you raise your arms. He makes a ball out of your top and throws it somewhere across his room, his attention fully taken by the sight of your now half-naked body. He immediately discards his own t-shirt, putting his hands back on you as quickly as he can, as if scared you might suddenly disappear.
You go on dancing together, bodies moving in harmony, as if you’re one being rather than two. You let your hands travel over his shoulders and chest and rest them on his stomach as you lean your upper body backwards, trusting him to hold you while you circle your way back to him. When you do, his hands roam down to grab your ass and hike one of your legs around his hips, the friction of your pelvises rubbing together eliciting a heavy, relieved sigh from both of you.
Finally, your lips find each other, and you kiss like you’re each other’s sources of oxygen. Of course, Sunghoon is one of, if not the best, kissers you’ve ever had the honor of sharing a kiss with, because how could he be anything other than perfect? The way he kisses is intense and a little bit messy, and it ignites your whole body, making you crave only more and more until you’ve had everything you want. Your hands and his are restless, endlessly drifting over each other’s bodies, grabbing at shoulders or hips or strands of hair.
He walks backwards to his bed, never once breaking the passionate embrace, until the back of his legs hit the mattress. He sits, spreading his legs wide enough for you to stand between them. His face is right at the level of your chest, and the way he looks up at you as he presses hot, open-mouthed kisses there makes your insides burst and the fire in your core burn harder. Keeping eye contact with him is too much to handle, so you close your eyes and let your head back slightly, grazing your hands through the soft locks of his hair and simply enjoying the feeling of his mouth on you. His warm hands roam your lower back before traveling north to the clasp of your bra. He undoes it but doesn’t take it off - instead, he calls your name, and it’s never sounded better than on his lips.
“Baby?”
“Hm?” You look back down at him and find in his eyes a sort of lustful, dreamlike daze that you’re sure must reflect your own perfectly.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks breathily, wanting to be certain this is okay for you, but sounding like it’d be the death of him if you said no.
You smile softly and take his head in your hands. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
He smiles too, exposing his sharp canines and pretty dimples, and sighs of relief. “Thank God.”
Your bra comes off, and you almost laugh when his pupils blow out at the sight of your naked chest, but your amusement dies, cut off by a loud moan as soon as he takes one of your nipples in his mouth, twirling his tongue around and sucking on the sensitive bud before moving on to the other one. One of his hands rests on your ass while his other arm is wrapped around your waist, and his grip on your waist tightens every time you make a sound that he particularly appreciates. You’re pulling at his hair so much, you’re almost scared of hurting him, but truth be told you’re too focused on the way his mouth feels on you to really be careful about it.
“Come here,” he says, voice hoarse. His jeans aren’t doing a very good job of hiding how hard he is, and he groans at the sudden contact when he pulls you down into his lap. You press kisses everywhere you can - his cheeks, the crook of his neck, his hair, before finding his lips once again. You don’t even realize you’re grinding yourself against him until he breaks away from the kiss to let out a quiet moan, and you bury your face in the dip between his shoulder and his neck, breath hot against his skin as you whine in pleasure.
You could do this for hours, and maybe you do - but at some point, you start needing something more and your core throbs, desperate for more attention. And what better way to communicate that to Sunghoon than to show him exactly what you want?
You unwrap your arms from around his shoulders and let your hand roam down to the waistband of his jeans, smiling shyly at him as you get down on your knees in front of him. He watches with a pained expression, like the anticipation of what you’ll do next actually hurts him, as you unbutton and unzip his jeans, then slide them along with his boxers down his legs. To distract from the fact that his size slightly intimidates you, you take him in your hand right away, circling his reddened tip with your thumb before starting to bring your palm up and down his shaft while your other hand rubs his thigh.
You’re absolutely breathtaken by the sight in front of you: Sunghoon’s abs tensing visibly at your ministrations, his head hung back and his neck and Adam’s apple flushed red on display for you, moans increasing in volume as you continue. You had a feeling Sunghoon wouldn’t be a quiet one, and you’re proud to be proven right.
You put your own needs aside for now, just wanting to see Sunghoon in as much pleasure as you can give him. You bring your head forward and lick a stripe up his length, satisfied when he lets out his loudest moan so far. You don’t tease for too long, only licking at his tip for a bit before taking more of him in your mouth. You keep one hand at the base of his shaft and swirl your tongue around the part you’re able to reach. 
This is the first time you’ve gotten so much pleasure from giving - maybe because Sunghoon’s reactions feed your ego, maybe because you’re so obsessed with him that knowing you’re making him feel good is enough, or maybe both. Definitely both.
But Sunghoon doesn’t let you have your fun for too long, and soon pulls your face gently away from him. His flushed face and fucked-out expression is gratifying to say the least. You look up at him with a smile, rubbing his thighs with your palms as you wait for him to catch his breath.
“A minute longer,” he says, panting, “and I would’ve died.” You giggle at his dramatics and hoist yourself back up, about to position yourself again on his lap but Sunghoon has other plans. He lays you down on your back and comes to rest on his side next to you, holding himself up on a forearm; that way he has both full access to and full view of your face and body. Perfect.
His face is close enough to yours to press kisses there and on your neck while his hand makes his way down your body. When it reaches the waistband of your jeans, you don’t wait for him to say or do anything and undo them yourself, which makes Sunghoon smirk.
“Impatient, are you?” he teases.
“You’re one to talk,” you bite back with a smile, even though your cheeks start to burn.
He slips a hand under your jeans, and gathers slick from between your folds before starting to rub small circles on your clit with the pads of two fingers. He soon gets frustrated from the way your clothes restrict his movements, and whispers in your ear, “Might as well take everything off while we’re at it, don’t you think?”
You roll your eyes at his playful tone but comply, more than happy to undress if it means he can touch with more ease. And indeed, he wastes no time before slipping a finger inside you, smirk widening at the loud half-gasp half-moan you let out at the feeling. “Much better,” he whispers again, but any comeback is wiped from your mind as he adds a second finger in, curling them so that they hit just the spot. You’re drenched at this point, your arousal sticking to the inside of your thighs, but that only makes it easier for him to slip his fingers in and out and means you’re more than ready for him. He keeps his thumb on your clit so that the friction there doesn’t stop either, and it isn’t long before you start to feel that familiar knot twisting your insides, appearing much quicker than you’d like it to.
“Sunghoon- I’m gonna, I’m-”
“You are, huh?” he breathes against your neck in between kisses. And just like that, as if you’d told him to stop and not that you were about to finish, he slips his fingers out of you, watching your reaction with a devilish, amused smirk.
“What? No, no-” you whine, but it’s no use. He rolls away from you, opening the drawer in his bedside table to retrieve something, and he’s lucky it’s a condom, because you might have killed him if it was anything else.
“Just because it’s our first time, I’m making you cum on my cock,” he explains as he rips open the small packet and puts the condom on. He comes back and places himself over you, pressing a kiss to your cheek and aligning himself with your entrance. “Next time, you’ll cum on my fingers and mouth as much as you want, Baby.”
And then, he pushes in.
You don’t need to tell him to go slow, or to wait before he starts moving; he knows. He holds himself up on his hands, biceps tight, and watches your face carefully for any sign of pain or discomfort while he furrows his way in, inch by inch.
When he finally bottoms out, he presses a soft kiss to your glistening hairline and bends down to whisper in your ear, “I’ve been thinking about this all week, and it’s even better than I imagined.”
The corners of your lips tug upwards, but the feeling of Sunghoon filling you up like this makes your brain go fuzzy and you can’t even begin to form coherent words or thoughts. You grab on to his biceps and shoulders as he starts to move back and forth, slowly at first, but progressively picking up speed, your moans egging him on.
He takes one of your legs and hikes it up around his hip, allowing him to go deeper and hit that spot that has you arching your back and crying out. You’re clawing at his back, eyes shut tight and mouth going dry, and his fast, regular rhythm is bringing you to the edge once again. Either Sunghoon has terrible timing, or he knows precisely how close you are and wants to tease you, because he slows down and pulls out. “I just want to make it last a bit longer,” he explains, murmuring the words in the crook of your jaw and neck before pressing a kiss there.
He pushes himself away from you and sits up on his bed, his back against the headboard. He looks at you with a lopsided smile, and when you position yourself on his lap, you take a couple moments to admire him before taking him again. His hairline beads with sweat, his face and upper body are flushed a light red color, his breathing is quick and shallow, mouth slightly agape, and his eyelids are heavy with lust, eyes almost closed. He’s never looked so good. 
“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” he asks, and you smile both at the compliment and at the fact that you were thinking the same thing about him just a second ago, as if you shared each other’s exact thoughts. You shake your head, and his gaze turns loving as he brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Baby. There. Said it.”
You kiss him passionately before taking him in your hand and raising yourself on your knees to guide his tip towards your entrance, keeping eye contact with him as you sink onto his length. The new position hits even more sensitive spots and makes the two of you moan simultaneously. 
Deciding to let him rest for a bit, you start moving yourself up and down on his cock, quickly settling into a nice rhythm that doesn’t tire your legs out too much but still manages to make you see stars. You hold onto Sunghoon’s shoulders, hands sometimes grabbing onto his hair while his stay firmly planted on your ass, kneading the soft skin there. You try to hold his gaze for as long as you can, but the pleasure starts to overwhelm you and you can’t do anything but shut your eyes, head falling back as loud moans escape your lips. There’s no way you could have kept it quiet, so you’re extremely grateful that Sunghoon’s living quarters are far enough away to avoid an audience.
Despite the immense pleasure of being on top of him and of choosing your own rhythm, your thighs start to hurt after a few minutes of this. Thankfully, Sunghoon notices your decreasing pace and the way your legs falter, and takes things into his own hands, finally ready to stop edging and bring the both of you to your ends. One hand on your lower back, one arm wrapped around your shoulders, he presses your chest firmly to his, hugging you tight, and starts bucking his hips into you at a pace that has you crying out into his shoulder. Your hands find purchase in his hair, pulling tight enough to hurt at the roots. If Sunghoon stops, it might be the death of you, so even if it’s a struggle to get the words out, you want to let him know how you feel.
“Fuck, Sunghoon, right there, please don’t stop, please- oh, my God!”
The sound of your two bodies coming together is lewd, but it only adds to your bliss, and in just thirty seconds of this, the knot in your stomach breaks loose and sends your whole body trembling against Sunghoon’s. He’s not long after you, the sound of his name over and over on your tongue as you cum sending him tumbling over the edge. You feel hot tears streaming down your face at the relief of finally having come undone, and the sounds leaving your lips now are fainter, your body too weak to even make any noise. 
You stay like this for a few moments, body limp on top of his, allowing your breaths to return to normal. You’ve had two boyfriends before, and they were the only two you’d ever had sex with, so it’s not like you had already discovered everything about the joys of sex, but you knew for sure that it didn’t always feel like this, didn’t always take you to heaven and back. Usually, you’d have stood up and cleaned yourself by now, but with Sunghoon, you never want to leave this spot. Fall asleep like this, wake up like this, stay as long as you wanted like this. But after a few minutes, Sunghoon stirs and you jolt out of your daze, getting off of him, wincing slightly at the sensitivity between your legs. 
He slips from his seated position and lays on his back. You follow suit, turning your body towards the ceiling, suddenly feeling shy at the idea of touching him, of getting closer - or maybe scared that he’ll suddenly want to be left alone, or worse, never want to see you again. But all your negative thoughts dissipate when he shifts to his stomach, sliding slightly down the bed to rest his head on your chest, burying his face there, hugging your waist tight, and letting out a contented sigh. Although your heart swells at his ridiculously cute actions, to say you aren’t a bit surprised would be a lie - after seeing a leading, more dominant side to him all week, since he was the one teaching you the dance and guiding you through the moves, you had thought it would translate to the way he was in bed. Yet, he had let you do what you wanted, let you set your own pace, as much as he had himself. And now, he was perfectly happy seeking out your affection and not making you come to him. It made you appreciate him that much more.
One of your hands makes its way to his back, grazing your fingernails along the expanse of it, while the other plays gently with his hair. You fall asleep in record time, perfectly at peace and exhausted from so much exertion.
-
When you wake up a few hours later, you’re still laying on your back, and although Sunghoon has drifted away, probably due to the heat in the room, your legs are still intertwined and he’s got an arm resting on your midriff. There’s nothing to let you know the time, so you look out the window and notice with panic that the sun has started to rise, which means it must be close to six a.m. You try to shake Sunghoon awake, but he just grumbles something incoherent and hugs you tighter to him, which you absolutely would have swooned over if you didn’t need to get back to your bungalow - and so you shake him harder.
“Sunghoon, wake up!” you say, far too quietly for it to actually wake him up, but he looks so cute asleep that it’d break your heart to wake him up too harshly.
“Why…” he whines, face buried in your neck and voice coming out muffled.
“I don’t want my father to notice that I’m gone,” you say, the aftertaste of the words bitter in your mouth.
“Why, what time is it?” he asks, slowly coming to his senses.
“I’m not sure, but he never wakes up late, so I don’t wanna risk it.” Your father, needing a real break from intense work days, had started waking up at 6:45 instead of 5:30 every morning. How relaxing.
“But I want you to stay,” Sunghoon grumbles, and you bless him for speaking your own thoughts but also curse him for making it harder to leave.
“I know, so do I. But I’ll see you later, okay?”
A beat. “Fine,” he sighs, then pushes himself off of you. He doesn’t look at you while you put your clothes back on and walk out of the room, but you know he can’t have fallen asleep again so quickly, so you’re terrified of having said or done something extremely wrong, but you can’t take it back now, so you just close the door behind you and rush back to your own bed.
The breakfast table is completely silent, the tension between you and your father clear to your mother, who doesn’t say anything, scared of accidentally adding fuel to the fire, and even to your sister, who eats her grapefruit quietly, darting her eyes back and forth between the three of you. Jay shows up from only God knows where and, not even trying to read the room, asks cheerfully what you’re all planning on performing at the show.
“We won’t be at the show,” your father says, making everyone’s heads snap towards him. “We’re leaving tomorrow morning, miss the weekend traffic.”
“We haven’t discussed this, honey,” your mother says just as Seeun whines, “But Daddy, we’ll miss the show!” You keep quiet, pretending the overcooked scrambled eggs on your plate are the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen. 
“It’s the biggest night of the season!” Jay chimes in, also trying to persuade him.
“Yeah, and I wanted to sing something!” your sister adds.
Your father looks back and forth between your mother’s and sister’s bewildered faces, then sighs and begrudgingly bows to their wishes. “Alright, alright, it was just an idea.”
A smile breaks on your mother’s face and Seeun clasps her hands together with a small noise of joy. “Perfect,” Jay exclaims, pointing a finger at you as he walks away. “Baby, I’ll need you for props.”
“So, Seeun, what songs do you have in mind?” your father asks and gets up, gesturing at your sister to follow him, although he looks completely uninterested. She practically jumps up from her seat and starts listing all her song ideas, leaving her half-finished breakfast behind.
You finish eating your own, making small talk with your mother for long enough so that she isn’t suspicious of your trying to escape, although you can tell she knows something is up and just won’t mention it. You thank her silently for it, and excuse yourself from the table to go check up on Chaewon.
When you get to her room, she’s still in bed, but isn’t sleeping and doesn’t look in pain anymore - she’s sitting up, flicking through a fashion magazine. She smiles brightly when she sees you at her door, discarding the magazine and extending her hands out to you.
“How are you feeling?” you ask as you take her hands in yours, crouching next to her bed.
“Much, much better,” she says, sounding relieved at her own answer. “You just missed your father. He’s an amazing man.”
You only have time to talk for a minute when the door opens once again to reveal Sunghoon. Seeing him creates a pit in your stomach, either from the memory of what you did last night or from the way you had to escape soon thereafter. You stand up straight, taking a few steps away from Chaewon. He looks at you briefly before turning his attention to her, and asks the same question you did moments prior.
“I’m feeling a lot better. Baby’s father says I’m still able to have children.”
“That’s great, Chaewon, that’s amazing,” Sunghoon says, sounding relieved.
“But what about you guys? How did the show go last night?” she asks, a hopeful expression on her face.
Sunghoon glances at you, and you avoid his gaze as best you can. “It went well,” he simply says, not explaining any further. 
“Yeah, I didn’t do the lifts, but other than that it went well.”
Chaewon looks at him, then at you, and all at once notices the awkward tension in the air - and she understands the situation as clearly as if it had been written out in black and white for her.
It’s silent for a few seconds until you speak. “Well, I guess I better go then… I’ll see you around.” You give Chaewon a small smile and head to the door, letting your eyes linger on Sunghoon before slipping out. But of course, you can’t actually bring yourself to leave, and sit on the stairs a few meters away from the door. From where you are, you can hear every word spoken inside the cabin.
“Sunghoon,” Chaewon starts.
“So, you’re feeling better, huh?”
“Sunghoon.”
“But you should still get some rest, right?”
“Sunghoon, stop it.” That shuts him up. “What are you doing? You’ve told me so many times not to get mixed up with them,” she says, sounding at once worried and reproachful.
“I know what I’m doing, alright?”
“Sunghoon, listen to me you gotta stop it, you know it’s not gonna end well-”
“I said I know what I’m doing,” he snaps, but seems to immediately regret it. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Chaewon, I just- you’re in no position to be worrying about me right now. I know what I’m doing. I trust her.” There’s a small silence, and you have no idea what expression Chaewon must be wearing right now. Is she unsure, satisfied, worried, angry? Is she nodding, trying to respect his decision, or looking like Sunghoon’s making the biggest mistake of his life? “I’ve gotta go, but I’ll see you later, alright? Rest up.”
“Alright, see you later, Hoon,” she says quietly, and when Sunghoon opens the door, he finds you waiting for him. You stand up and just look at him, unsure how to express what’s on your mind. You’d completely forgotten everything you had meant to tell him.
“Oh, hey, Baby,” he says upon seeing you.
“Hey.”
You both just stand there, staring at each other, no idea how to start the much-needed conversation.
“Look, I’ve got a uh, a lesson I need to go to right now, so…” he trails off.
“Right, right, no problem,” you say, nodding far too vigorously.
“But I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah, you will.”
Neither of you move for a few moments, and you feel like you’re completely stuck in place, unable to move until you’ve had the reassurance that things can stay as they were between you and Sunghoon. But he walks past you, already a few meters away when you gather the courage to call out his name, and he turns around so quickly, you dare to hope he might have been waiting for you to do so. You don’t say anything, you just smile, and hope he understands. He smiles back, an actual smile where his dimples appear and the corners of his eyes crinkle, and you know that for now at least, everything is okay.
-
“God, I am so sick of this rain,” your sister complains as she dabs powder on her face, covering up non-existent blemishes. All four of you are in the living room of your bungalow, resting after lunch and getting ready for the rest of the day. You and your father play a boring game of checkers, trying to make the tension disappear slowly, while your mother reads some detective novel.
“Where is my beige iridescent lipstick?” Seeun asks furiously, punctuating each of her words, as if that was the kind of everyday thing that lies about in everyone’s house.
Your father wins the game and looks relieved that it’s over more than anything. You pick up a light raincoat and head towards the door, but your mother calls out your name, stopping you in your tracks.
“Where are you going in this weather?” she asks with curiosity rather than wariness in her voice.
“They’re playing charades in the main lobby,” you reply casually, used to giving out random excuses by now.
“Quite the little joiner, are we?” your sister teases, and you’re not sure if she’s just making fun of you or if she knows you’re up to something but you ignore her anyway and walk out of the cabin.
You make your way to Sunghoon’s place as quickly as you can to avoid the rain. You had ran into him that morning and, when your parents weren’t looking, he let you know that he was free all afternoon with a smile that was as good as a spoken invitation.
He brings you into a hug as soon as you’ve closed the door behind you and presses a kiss to the top of your head, murmuring an apology into your hair. “I’m sorry I acted so awkwardly yesterday. You left so suddenly that night, and I was scared you regretted it…”
You lean back and gaze into his eyes. “I regret absolutely nothing, Sunghoon.”
He breathes out a relieved sigh, smiling as he nods. “Good. Me either.”
You press your lips to his, and although the kiss starts out slow and soft, it doesn’t take long for things to heat up. You let out a small yelp when Sunghoon lifts you up and carries you to the bed, laying you down gently on the mattress. He holds up to the promise he’d made the other night - namely, making you cum on his tongue and fingers as much as you want, or rather, as you soon find out, as much as he wants.
He starts by undressing you slowly, taking his time to revel in the sight of your naked body and the idea that it’s all for him. He only leaves your panties on, rubbing small circles over your clothed clit as he works his mouth on your nipples and breasts, paying each side its due attention. He then makes his way down, leaving warm kisses everywhere he can from your stomach to your inner thighs, and makes sure to work you up and have you squirming before actually slipping your panties off and giving you what you want. Once he’s wrapped his lips around your clit, it’s like he can’t get enough. With two fingers inside you, he sucks and licks at the sensitive bud for what feels like so long that you don’t know how his wrist and jaw don’t get tired. You don’t even try to count the number of times he makes you cum, simply taking every orgasm in stride, and even though you get so sensitive after a while, you’ve entered some sort of blissful, exhausted daze that you can’t bring yourself to break away from.
Afterwards, you’re lying next to Sunghoon, your head resting on his chest and grazing your fingernails up and down his arm while he plays with your hair. You’ve somehow managed not to fall asleep despite the tiredness filling your entire body, and you and Sunghoon talk quietly, the sound of the rain outside like a peaceful background song. You listen to him describe his dream of opening a dance school someday and choreographing professionally, then he listens as you talk about all the places you want to visit and the things you want to learn about the world. You share childhood memories and awkward first kiss anecdotes and compare your relationships with your parents and the similar sort of pressure they put on your shoulders, albeit for two very reasons.
“My dad especially, he just doesn’t understand that dancing can be an actual profession. He sees it as some kind of hobby I’ve had since I was a teenager and that it’ll pass soon when I realize I can’t make a living out of it. He completely ignores the fact I get paid more in three months here than in half-a-year with him, but he doesn’t mind taking the part of my salary I give our family when I come back, that’s for sure,” he chuckles humorlessly. “I’m scared he’ll think I’m betraying him if I don’t take up his carpentry business.”
“I was top of my class in elementary school, and my parents thought that meant I was the brightest little girl in the world and would grow up to achieve great things,” you explain in a joke-admirative voice. “And even if they tried not to say anything, I could see the disappointment on their faces when I brought home a B or was ranked third at a test. I’m happy I got into Yale, and that they can afford to pay for my studies, but it’s just gonna be even more pressure for four more years.” After a beat, you decide to add, “I can only forget about all of this when I’m with you. You just make all of my worries disappear for a while.”
The conversation takes a slightly sentimental tone as you tell each other what your first impression of the other was. You admit sheepishly to Sunghoon that you were attracted to him as soon as you saw him dancing with Chaewon that first night, and that you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him after he danced with you, even though you found him a bit of an asshole the first couple of days he taught you the dance. You tell him you were sure he hated you at first, and he reveals that he didn’t at all.
“But I can see why you thought that. I just… I had never met anyone like you, Baby. Someone who thought she could just show up somewhere and decide to help a stranger out for no other reason than to help them out of the kindness of their heart. I didn’t know if you were the most foolish or the bravest person ever. And yeah, I’ll admit, I wasn’t the nicest to you at first. I kinda have this thing against… against rich people, I guess,” he says, chuckling softly. “For me, a wealthy person is like Max, or Jay, or all those ladies here. They use their wealth to get you to do what you want. But you’re not like that, and it took me a while to understand that. I’m sorry,” he finishes, pressing another kiss to your hair.
“No, no, it’s okay… I’m sorry they’ve all treated you like that. You deserve better.” He thanks you quietly and a comfortable silence settles between the two of you for a few minutes and you’re close to falling asleep when Sunghoon calls out your name.
“Hm?”
“What’s your real name?”
You raise your head to look at him and flash him a big smile. It’s been ages since someone asked you that, most people not bothering to question your nickname.
“It’s Y/N.”
“Y/N…” he echoes, gazing at you lovingly. “It fits you perfectly.”
You press a gentle kiss to his lips in response, and you think it’s gonna end at that, but Sunghoon pulls you back in right as you’re about to lean out, and you know you’re done for. You’re still extremely sensitive but that only adds to the pleasure of him filling you up, intertwining your fingers with him as you make love, his thrusts slow but deep and your bodies pressed flush against each other. Your heart is bursting with something that you can only recognize as love.
-
That night, as you’re on the verge of falling asleep, your sister says something that jolts you awake.
“I’ve decided to go all the way with Heeseung,” she says, a hint of a smile in her voice. 
You snap your head towards her. “What? Seeun, no, you shouldn’t-”
“I’ve already thought about everything. I want it to happen on the night of rehearsals, I know what I’ll wear-”
“No, Seeun, listen, you can’t do it with Heeseung, I’ve already told you he’s bad news!” you whisper-scream, trying to get some sense into her head without your parents overhearing.
“Who else with, then?” she whisper-shouts back.
“Just- I don’t know, but not with him, it needs to be with someone you actually love, someone you can trust-”
“I can trust Heeseung. I do trust him - more than I trust you, actually,” she says, the conversation taking another turn.
“Seeun-”
“No, Baby. You don’t actually care about this, or even about me. All you care about is that you’re not Daddy’s little girl anymore. He listens when I talk now.” She turns her back to you with a huff.
“Seeun-” you try again, but she’s already done talking.
“Goodnight.”
You want to find a way to stop your sister from wasting an important experience like having sex for the first time on a guy like Heeseung, but you also know that once she’s set her mind to something, it’s hard to stop Seeun from doing it. Maybe this will be a lesson for her to learn from, you think, trying to reassure yourself.
The next afternoon, when your parents are busy playing cards with another couple and Seeun is off somewhere with her friends, you sneak off to visit Sunghoon in his dance classroom. He has an hour free in between classes and you use that opportunity to mess around for a bit. You put on a song you both love and dance together whichever way you want, acting out and lipsyncing to the lyrics. You have fun teasing him by swerving your head when he leans in for a kiss or trailing your hand along his arms, shoulders and back.
The sound of loud footsteps coming up the stairs spoils your fun, and you quickly position yourself face to the mirror and pretend you’re practicing basic mambo moves while Sunghoon heads to the record player. The one and only Jay stands at the door and seems to falter for a second at seeing you here.
“Hey, Baby, taking dance lessons?” You simply nod at him. “I could teach you kid,” he says, mirroring your moves and dancing a few steps until Sunghoon makes the record scratch, stopping the music abruptly. Jay’s arms drop to the side and he gives you a look as if to say “check this guy out,” and you try not to roll your eyes at him. 
“Sunghoon,” he says, walking towards him with all the confidence of a boss talking to his employee. The addressee simply raises his chin at him, pretending to busy himself with the record player. “My grandfather put me in charge of the talent show, and I’ve been thinking about the final dance. I’d like to uh, you know, do something different-”
“Yeah?”
“Move with the times-”
“Yeah? That’s great, I’ve got plenty of ideas-” Sunghoon says, speaking so quickly he cuts himself off, but Jay’s smile drops instantly. “We’ve been working on something with the staff, it goes like-”
You watch in the mirror as Sunghoon dances a step you’ve never seen before, and it looks really cool but Jay shakes his head, gesturing at Sunghoon to quiet down like he would a kid, as if they weren’t the exact same age.
“Woah there, you’re way over your head, boy.” Sunghoon stands up straight once again, jaw locked tight. “I was thinking, instead of doing the last dance to the mambo, how about, this year, doing it to the pachanga?” Jay asks, looking at you with a smile and nodding, as if he’d just said the most revolutionary thing ever.
“Right,” Sunghoon says coldly, bursting Jay’s bubble.
“Well,” he says, clearing his throat, “you’re more than welcome to do the same tired number as the previous years, but I’m sure that next summer, we’ll find a dance instructor who’s-”
“The pachanga,” Sunghoon cuts him off, raising his voice over Jay’s. “Great idea, Jay, let’s do that.”
A satisfied smile grows on Jay’s lips as Sunghoon turns back to the record player, and he struts back towards you. When he’s close enough, he leans in and says conspiratorially, but still loud enough for Sunghoon to hear, “He’s, uh, a bit hard to get through to sometimes, but the ladies seem to like him.” He doesn’t realize that you’re one of said ladies. “Make sure you’re getting the full half-hour you’re paying, kid,” he says once he’s at the door, and slips out on that graceful note.
Sunghoon’s next class takes place on the gazebo, so you accompany him there, trying to keep up with his long strides made quicker by his frustration. “God, I just hate that guy, he has no idea what he’s talking about. He wouldn’t recognise a good idea if it hit him in the pachanga,” he huffs angrily.
“But can’t you just talk to him? I’m sure he’d listen if you’d just tell him-”
“Didn’t you see what happened, Baby? He won’t listen. I can’t get everything I want just by asking, he’s the one with the money, with the power, I can’t do anything-”
“But it isn’t right! You have to fight harder-”
“That’s not how it works for me, Baby-”
You let out a small gasp, interrupting Sunghoon whose head pivots towards you, but you take him by the shoulders and bring him down to a crouch next to you. He follows your gaze to find your father, leaving a building with Heeseung and Seeun. Your dad brings his arm around Heeseung and shakes his shoulder in a fatherly manner while Seeun looks at them with a smile. 
Sunghoon’s muscles tense in realization - you don’t want to be caught with him, especially not by your father. 
You’re completely oblivious to this, and stand back up when the three of them are out of sight. “Alright, I think they’re gone,” you say, and only realize what you’ve done when you see the tight expression on Sunghoon’s face.
“Fight harder, huh?”
You just messed up real bad. “No, Sunghoon, I was planning on telling him, I just haven’t yet-”
“I don’t believe you, Baby. I don’t think you’ve ever had the intention of telling him,” he says, shaking his head. His eyes look down at you harshly, and it hurts so much more now than when you’d just met. 
“Sunghoon, please-”
“I gotta go. I’ll see you later, Y/N.”
You watch Sunghoon’s shrinking figure, cursing yourself for your cowardice and for your inability to do exactly what you preach. Your father was already so disappointed in you for simply being friends with Sunghoon, so if he knew what you were actually up to, he might go and disown you.
A few hours with no one to spend them with get you thinking. You had always thought your father was the best man on earth. Funny, loving, kind, fair. But you now realize it might not be so - he is prejudiced towards people who aren’t like him and isn’t forgiving of others’ mistakes. He made you believe in a world where everyone should be equal, but he himself doesn’t treat everyone the same. 
You also hate what this is doing to Sunghoon. You, who had told him he deserved everything he wanted, weren’t even capable of holding his hand proudly for everyone to see. So, for Sunghoon’s sake as well as for your own, you have to tell your father how you feel for Sunghoon, and put up a fight if he tries to stop it.
But first, you had to find Sunghoon and apologize. It’s nearing dinnertime, and he shouldn’t be working anymore, so you go look for him in his room. He isn’t there, so you head to his dance studio, then the gazebo, and anywhere else you can think of where he might have classes. But he’s nowhere to find, and after half-an-hour of running around, your last option is to go ask Chaewon where Sunghoon might be. At least, you know she’ll be in her room, still recovering.
You take a second to catch your breath then knock on Chaewon’s door, then wait until she calls you in to open the door. “Hey, Chaewon, have you seen Sunghoon?” you ask, only realizing after you’ve said the words that it might be rude to be so direct, but you don’t have time to apologize because your eyes shift to the other person in the room, who is, of course, Sunghoon himself. He stands up from his seat on the armchair in the corner, looking at you with an unreadable expression. He could be anywhere on a scale where one extreme is ‘he hates you and never wants to talk to you again’ and ‘he has never been so relieved to see you’ and you’d have no idea.
“Can we, um, talk? Outside, if it’s okay?” you ask, eyes darting back and forth between Sunghoon and Chaewon. She smiles and jerks her head towards the door, silently telling Sunghoon to go with you. He purses his lips and nods, following you outside and closing the door behind him.
He rests his palms on the banister of the front porch, looking out at the lawn and the resort buildings in the distance. You stand behind him, bringing your palms up to his arms and kissing his shoulder. He closes his eyes and sighs, basking in your touch despite himself. “I’m sorry, Sunghoon. I’m sorry.” 
He turns around, gazing down at you with that unreadable expression on his face. “It’s okay. I understand.”
When he kisses you, the relief in your bones is like nothing else, better even than coming home to your bed after a long, tiring day, or than getting a good grade on a test you thought you’d failed. Your arms wrap around his neck while his find their way to your waist, and you revel in the closeness of your bodies and the taste of his lips, like mint and something uniquely Sunghoon that you can’t ever get enough of.
But unfortunately, you stay long enough in this position to attract the attention of a one-man audience. “Damn, guess I picked the wrong sister,” you hear Heeseung chuckle, and when you pull away from Sunghoon, you see that insufferable smirk on his face. How you wish you could just smack it off of there. “Didn’t know you put out like that, Baby.”
It all happens so quickly, you don’t have time to understand what’s going on, let alone stop Sunghoon from jumping over the banister. He stomps over to Heeseung, grabbing him by the collar and shaking hard. 
“Repeat what you just said, I dare you,” he says in a low, menacing voice, face close to Heeseung’s. The latter’s smirk falters for just a split second before coming back, as if incapable of not looking like an arrogant asshole for more than a few seconds at a time.
“I said,” Heeseung starts, “that I hadn’t thought Baby was so fucking easy.”
Heeseung has barely finished speaking that Sunghoon has raised his fist back, ready to strike the insolent expression off of the boy’s face. It’d be satisfying, that’s for sure, but it wouldn’t be worth risking his job, so you call out his name and make him stop in his tracks. He doesn’t look back at you, though, just keeps his hard gaze fixated on Heeseung, breathing heavily in anger.
“Sunghoon, please,” you repeat, pleading with him. 
“So, what’s it gonna be, loverboy?” Heeseung teases, but Sunghoon just drops his fist and pushes him away, making him stumble a few steps back. 
“You’re not worth it,” Sunghoon practically spits, sending one last cold look his way before walking back to you.
You don’t care enough to check how Heeseung reacts, just watching Sunghoon make his way back to you, relieved nothing happened. He stands in front of the banister, the height difference allowing you to hug his head to your chest and you press a kiss to the top of his head, whispering in his hair that you’re proud of him.
Soon afterwards, you have to head back to the building where the talent show will happen. He could do it anywhere else, but Sunghoon decides to plan out his performance in the same room, using the excuse of needing to see the stage just to stay around you. 
You’re painting some sort of fake coconut tree while competitors rehearse their performance, your sister by far the loudest of them. You try not to cringe as her dissonant voice reverbs around the room, but nobody pays her too much attention. It’s hard not to steal glances every two seconds at Sunghoon, and you tell yourself that he just looks especially good today in his tight black t-shirt and black jeans, but you also know he looks good everyday. His gaze also strays towards you more often than not, and you try not to burst into giggles every time your eyes meet, not wanting to raise any suspicion. 
This room is also where a group of men play their games of poker, and since it was big enough to host all of you, they had decided to stay there even through the preparations, sure that it wouldn’t disrupt their game. 
The not-staring takes on another level of difficulty when a lady you recognize as Vivian Kim leaves her spot standing behind her husband at the poker table to make her way to Sunghoon, walking in a fashion far too languorous for your taste. 
From where you are, you can’t hear exactly what she says, but it’s not hard to guess - an invitation to spend the night with her while her husband is busy, one last time before she leaves the resort and goes home.
Sunghoon stays silent but that doesn’t seem to deter her, and she flashes him a lurid smile before walking back to the poker table. He turns his head to check if you’ve seen what happened, but you look away from him and back at your coconut tree, hoping the jealousy you’re feeling isn’t written all over your face. 
Vivian’s husband calls out Sunghoon’s name, waving him over good-naturedly. You watch once again as Sunghoon walks over to the table and as Mr Kim pulls out dollar bills from his wallet. “Tonight’s the final poker tournament, so how about some dance lessons for my wife?” he asks, and you can’t tell from his tone whether he thinks that dance lessons really are what his money is paying for or if he knows what’s actually going on.
Sunghoon takes the money and Mr Kim smiles at him, returning to the game, but Sunghoon just stands there, staring at the bills in his hands, then to Vivian, behind him to you, and finally back at Mr Kim. “Thanks, Mr Kim, but I’m all booked up for the rest of the week ‘cause of the show, so I don’t think it’d be fair to take the money.”
Mr Kim nods as Sunghoon hands him back the cash, saying he appreciates his honesty. Vivian looks at him, eyes wide, obviously surprised at his sudden refusal. Sunghoon walks back to his seat, sending a small smile your way, and you try your best not to gloat. 
-
In the past few days, it’s become a bit of a habit to sneak out of your bungalow and rush to Sunghoon’s when your family has gone to sleep. Except tonight, what you don’t know is that Seeun hears you, because she’s planning on doing the exact same thing and paying Heeseung a visit. You’re already with your own lover when she heads out of the room, skipping in excitement and anticipation the whole way there. She’s applied lotion to her entire body, sprayed perfume to her neck, wrists and ankles, and has read all the sex advice columns of her favorite magazines - she’s more than prepared for this.
She reaches the door. Takes a deep breath in, stands up straight. Calls out, “Heeseung, it’s me!” but no answer comes. So she opens the door slightly, and almost drops her bag at the sight in front of her, gasping loudly. She has just enough reflex to close the door again and rest her back against it, taking a few seconds to let it sink in before running back to her bed, where she promptly explodes into tears.
Now more than ever, she wishes her sister was here, whether to comfort her or to say “I told you so.” She wishes you were here to help her make sense of finding Vivian Kim and Heeseung naked together in his bed when he had spent weeks making her believe he wanted to be with her and her only. She wishes you would curse him out and call him all the names she wants to but doesn’t have the courage to.
But unfortunately, you’re not there with her. Instead, you’re with Sunghoon, laying together in bed, your head resting on his chest and your legs intertwined. You’re both spent from a night of lovemaking and from your shower that was supposed to be innocent but quickly turned steamy. You wake up at dawn, knowing you’ll have to go soon but heart breaking at the thought of tearing yourself from Sunghoon’s warm embrace. You press soft kisses to his neck and whisper his name, trying to wake him up gently. His eyes stay closed as he tightens his arms around you and pleads with you to stay just a little bit longer, and you’re not strong enough to say no.
“I had a dream earlier where your father called me ‘son’ and put his arm around me like he did with Heeseung earlier.” His morning voice is raspy from sleep and sends butterflies straight to your stomach.
“I’m sorry, Sunghoon,” you hum. “I’ll talk to him today. I’ll tell him about you.”
You feel his chest rise up then down as he sighs. “I thought about it, and I feel like it’d make things even worse if he knew about us. He just seems to think I’m a bad guy, for some reason, and me being with his daughter will only make him hate me more.”
“But you’re not a bad guy. You’re the best guy,” you say, voice slightly whiny. You’re too sleepy to come up with a better reply, and it makes Sunghoon chuckle.
“Thanks, Baby.” He presses a kiss to your hair, and it’s become such a familiar gesture that you’re not sure how you’ll live without it once you go home.
It’s not long before you have to head back to your bungalow, and Sunghoon walks you outside, slotting his lips with yours for one last time this morning and making plans to meet up later. You don’t pay attention to anything other than him - not to the slight breeze picking up, or the sun rising, or the staff bungalows, off to the side from Sunghoon’s. But not paying attention means not noticing a figure standing on one of those staff bungalows, not seeing her eyes squinting at yours and Sunghoon’s embrace, first recognising him, and, once her initial shock wears off, recognising you. Because of course, just like you, Vivian Kim has to leave Heeseung’s bungalow before anyone notices - except that in your case, someone notices you.
And the consequences of it appear only a few hours later, as your family are having a late breakfast with Max and Jay. When the conversation first begins, you don’t think it’ll be of much importance to you.
“You know that feeling when you look at a patient and think he’s all fine, but then you get his x-rays and something’s completely wrong?” Max starts, addressing your father. “That’s exactly what it is to find out one of your staff, a trusted one at that, is a thief.”
“What happened, Max?” your father asks, eyebrows furrowed.
“Mr Kim’s wallet was stolen,” Max simply says, sighing. Jay jumps on the opportunity to explain the story himself, leaning in conspiratorially.
“It happened yesterday night when he was playing poker. One minute, his wallet was right there in his coat pocket, hanging on his chair behind him, and the next, it wasn’t.” Your sister lets out a small gasp.
“Vivian says she saw that dance kid Sunghoon walk by,” Max continues, and your head snaps up at the mention of Sunghoon’s name. “So we go and ask him if he’s got an alibi, and he says he was in his room alone all night, reading.”
Jay snorts. “There is not a single book in Sunghoon Park’s room.”
The whole time, you’re shaking your head slightly, unable to believe that Sunghoon might be wrongfully framed for this. You turn towards Jay, a pleading expression on your face. “Listen, there’s been a mistake, there’s no way Sunghoon did it-”
“There’s been similar thefts at the Sheldrake and even here. Three wallets stolen, and now Mr Kim’s!”
“No, I know he didn’t do it-”
“Stay out of it, Baby!” Jay snaps at you. You look at him in disbelief, because of the way he just talked to you, because of what they’re accusing Sunghoon of, but above all because it’s inconceivable that your parents ever wanted to set you up with a guy like him. Entitled, judgmental, unkind.
But you can’t just stay out of it - this concerns Sunghoon, and if you can stop it from happening, you’ll do everything so that he doesn’t lose his job over a false accusation. So you turn towards your father and Max, and plead Sunghoon’s case.
“I know Sunghoon didn’t take Mr Kim’s wallet, I know.”
“How can you be so sure?” your father asks.
“I-I can’t tell you, but Daddy, please, you have to trust me.”
Your father sighs, turning his attention back to his plate. “I’m sorry, Baby, but I can’t.”
“But- it could’ve been anyone else,” you continue, looking at Max now that your father avoids your gaze. “Maybe it was- oh, maybe it was that little old couple, the Schumachers, I saw her with a couple of wallets-”
“The Schumachers? Impossible,” Max refutes as your father furrows his eyebrows at you, raising his voice slightly.
“You don’t go around accusing innocent people, Baby!”
“But I saw them, I saw them at the Sheldrake- you said something was stolen at the Sheldrake, right?” you say, turning towards Jay again, your voice growing desperate.”
“Listen, Baby,” Max cuts in, voice calm but firm, “I’ve got an eyewitness and the kid has no alibi. Come on, Jay, let me show you how to fire an employee.”
You catch his wrist before he can turn away and gulp, preparing yourself for what you were about to say. “Wait a minute. I know Sunghoon didn’t do it, I know it, because he was in his room all night, and I know that because,” you pause for a second, risking a glance at your father, “because I was there with him.”
The table goes silent. You can feel yourself weighing down under the heavy gazes of everyone seated. After a few seconds that feel like an eternity, Max clears his throat and awkwardly says, “Right, well, we’ll investigate some more in light of these news-”
He’s cut off by the screech of your father’s chair being roughly pushed back. You watch as your father leaves the room, steam coming out of his ears, and you can only hope revealing the truth will be worth it in the end.
After giving your father some time to cool off, you find him in the empty gazebo, looking out at the lake. The water is still except for the parts where ducks dip their heads in and back out. Even now that the rain has stopped pouring every day, clouds still render the sky a blinding white, and the sun only appears now and then when they part enough to let a ray through. There’s a slight breeze that makes leaves flutter around, and you need to tighten your light cardigan around your shoulders.
You know he sees you approaching, but he keeps his gaze fixated on the lake, even when you call out to him. 
“I told you I wasn’t lying about Sunghoon,” you start. “But I’m sorry I lied about the money. I’m not proud of myself for that, you know. But you lied too,” you say, and he finally looks at you, awaiting an explanation. “You told me everyone deserved a fair break, but you meant everyone like you. You said I could change the world, but you meant by becoming a lawyer, or an economist, and marrying someone from Harvard!”
He closes his eyes as if in pain, then looks back out to the lake, staying silent. “I made a mistake. There’s things about me you don’t know, and things you might not like, but I’m in this family too, and if you love me, you’ll have to love my faults too.” Your voice shakes and your eyes start to water. Seeing your father’s eyes do the same only adds to the difficulty of saying what you want to say.
“Because I love you, Daddy, and I’m sorry I let you down, but you let me down too!” Your voice completely breaks on those last words, and you turn away, letting your feet guide you wherever before your dad can hear the sob that escapes your throat. You know your dad’s silent treatment won’t last for long, so you leave him in the gazebo to think and cry as much as he needs to.
Your body must have developed new instincts, because soon enough, you find yourself in Sunghoon’s cabin, unsure how you even got here. His things are still there, which reassures you of the fact that he hasn’t left yet. You pace back and forth in the room for a few minutes until your emotions suddenly come crashing down, all the stress and tension and strung feelings, leaving behind only exhaustion. You lay on Sunghoon’s bed, thinking you’ll just close your eyes for a few minutes. But when you open them again, they fall on Sunghoon’s face, and you have no idea how long you’ve been there.
“Sunghoon?” you murmur.
“I have been looking for you all over,” he says, crouching in front of you, and gives you time to sit up and rub the sleep out of your eyes. “You were right about the Schumachers. Fingerprinted their glasses. Turns out they were wanted in a bunch of other states for theft too. They found them when they were already trying to leave the resort,” he explains, and your smile grows wider and wider as he speaks. 
“Oh my God, that’s amazing! I knew it’d work out!”
But Sunghoon diverts his gaze down, unable to match your euphoric expression. “I’m out, Baby.”
You quickly put two and two together. “They fired you anyway because of me.” 
“And if I leave quietly, I get my summer bonus,” he says sarcastically.
Your anger makes you stand up, walk to one corner of the room then back, your voice rising on its own accord. “So I did it all for nothing, then? I hurt my family, you lost your job anyway - it was all for nothing!”
“It was not for nothing!” Sunghoon exclaims, volume matching yours. “Nobody has ever done anything like that for me!” He searches your eyes for the reassurance that everything that happened this summer was worth it, but he only finds sorrow in them.
“You were right, Sunghoon,” you say with a sad smile, voice lowering to a hum, “you can’t change anything no matter how hard you try.”
“No, Baby,” he says, walking towards you, “I don’t want that from you, you hear me? You can. You can do whatever you want.”
Your gazes stay locked in each other for a few painful moments until it becomes unbearable and you have to look away. “I used to think so too.”
There’s nothing left to say. You watch silently as Sunghoon begins packing the few belongings he has in two small suitcases and a rucksack, then help out when the passivity starts to make your muscles ache. He hasn’t got much, so he’s done in just a few minutes, and you don’t realize you have tears pooling in your eyes until Sunghoon himself notices and wordlessly takes you in his arms.
You’re heading to his car when he suddenly stops in his tracks, saying he has something he needs to do first. You don’t question it, just agree to wait for him. It’s not like you’ve got anything better to do anyway.
A few minutes later, unbeknownst to you, Sunghoon is knocking on your cabin’s door. Just as he’d hoped, your father is the one to open the door, squinting his eyes meanly at the young man behind it as soon as he realizes who he is. Your father stays silent as he stares Sunghoon down, making a chill run down Sunghoon’s neck. He clears his throat before speaking. “Doctor, I-” he starts, already cutting himself off to take off his sunglasses. “I’m going anyway, and I know what you must be thinking-”
“You don’t know anything about me,” your father interrupts, shaking his head in disdain at Sunghoon. “Anything at all.”
Sunghoon had really wanted to stay calm and focused, to just say what he wanted to stay, but now that he’s leaving, he has no reason to put up with the blatant disrespect and contempt of the clients and higher-ups any longer. “I know you want Baby to be like you. An admirable person, the kind people look up to, but if you could just see, she’s already like that-”
“I know my daughter far better than you do, so don’t you tell me what to see,” your father practically barks, unable to contain his anger. “What I see right now is someone who got his partner in trouble and sent her off to some butcher, then moved on to a younger, innocent girl like my Baby.”
Rather than frustrated, Sunghoon’s eyes grow tired and sad. There’s no fight left in him anymore - he can see he won’t be able to change your father’s mind, there’s no point even trying. “Yeah, I guess that’s what you would see,” he murmurs before walking away, back to you, the only person who’s ever wanted to truly understand him.
And then it’s goodbye. 
While you were waiting, you kicked pebbles, brooding over the fact that your already shortening time with Sunghoon was getting cut off even more. But as soon as you see him, those thoughts evaporate, and you’re left with bittersweetness in your mouth. You spent the most incredible summer with him by your side, and even though it’s coming to an end, maybe the experience and the memories are all that matters.
Sunghoon closes the trunk when he’s done packing it, and walks over to where you’re standing, back against the passenger door, arms crossed over your chest. He rests his forearm on top of the car and neither of you are able to look the other in the eye for fear of emotion overwhelming you.
“Guess we took them all by surprise, huh?” you say, trying on a light-hearted tone to dissolve the tension in the air.
“Guess we did,” he chuckles quietly, risking a glance up at you. Your eyes meet and before you can break down, you turn your body towards his, nesting your face in the crook of his neck. He presses a kiss to your hair like a hundred times before and it’s enough to make your heart break. 
“I don’t know what I’ll do without you around.”
He rests his chin on the top of your head. “You’ll just have more time for card games and croquet,” he jokes, but you can’t laugh. “And Jake and Chaewon will still be around.” It’s silent for a few more minutes, and you try to commit the feeling of him against you and the smell of his skin to memory. “I’ll never be sorry,” he finally says, voice muffled by your hair.
“Neither will I,” you whisper against his neck.
He inhales deeply and tears himself away, gazing down at you sadly. With his thumb, he wipes a tear as it drops down your cheek, and presses his lips to yours in one last kiss, tasting the saltiness of your heartbreak. “I’ll see you around, Baby,” he says against your lips, forehead resting against yours. But he can’t linger - it would only make this impossible moment even harder.
Your vision is too blurry for you to see properly as he walks to the other side of the car and disappears in the driver’s seat. In a matter of seconds, his car becomes a fuzzy black dot in the distance, and you’ve no choice but to walk back to the place that made you discover love only to rip it from your hands.
-
The three days until the talent show feel like eternity. Counting down the minutes until you leave doesn’t make time go by any faster, but you don’t feel like doing anything else. You hang out with Chaewon and Jake and their friends when they’re free, going back with them to the staff main quarters one night, and even though the music is the same as the first time, Sunghoon’s absence changes everything. You can’t dance without imagining his hands on your waist and his voice guiding you through the steps. 
Seeun is also a lot nicer to you. She tells you what happened with Heeseung, and it’s like your shared love troubles bring you closer, reminding you that you’re not so different after all. As you get ready to go watch the talent show, she sits next to you on the bed, offering to do your hair. But then she takes a strand of it in her hands, trailing her fingers through it, and looks at you with a soft smile. “You know what, I think it looks perfect just like that.” 
You mirror her smile and drop your head to her shoulder. You stay like this for a few seconds, words unnecessary to understand each other. “You’ll do great tonight, Seeun. I can’t wait to watch you.”
“I know,” she replies, making you both giggle. “Now let’s go, it’ll start soon.”
You’re not surprised to see that your parents have chosen to seat you in a corner, trapped between a wall and your father. Practically the same thing, you think, but you’re wise enough to keep the comment to yourself. 
The performers have gathered in a line on the stage, your sister included, to sing the resort’s last day song as a conclusion to the show now that Sunghoon isn’t here to do the final dance. Max even gets his own solo. The song goes on for far too long to your taste, so you take the time to look around the room.
The lights are dim, save for the ones on the stage so that the focus of the audience stays on the performers, and wall fixtures next to the exits so they can be found easily. Chairs have been brought to the center of the room right in front of the stage while tables line the walls, candles adorning each one. Staff don’t get seats - instead, they stand at the back of the room, their backs against the wall as they watch the stage with boredom written all over their faces. You catch Jake’s eyes and he winks at you, a mischievous smile on his face, and you chalk it up to his usual playfulness.
Heeseung walks near your table, and your father stands up, calling out to him. He gets something that looks like an envelope out of his pocket, handing it to him. “Good luck in medical school, son.” Heeseung takes the envelope, looking down at it with a smile, and your father rests a hand on his shoulder.
“Thank you so much, Doc,” Heeseung beams. “And I also wanted to thank you for your help with the Chaewon situation, I guess we’ve all gotten into messes like these, huh?” Your father stands with his back to you, so you can only imagine the way his smile falls and his eyes harden.
“What?”
Heeseung’s smile falters slightly and he chuckles awkwardly. “I-I thought Baby told you… Look, it’s what Chaewon said, but I’m not sure, you never know with girls like that, they could pin it on anyone-”
Your father snatches the envelope back from Heeseung’s hands, glaring at him, and walks back to his seat next to you without a word. It’s only now that you understand your father’s dislike of Sunghoon - he had been certain Sunghoon was the one who had gotten Chaewon into such trouble. How could you have missed that? All this time, you thought it was just because Sunghoon was part of the staff and didn’t come from your world. Regret and frustration bubble up in your stomach. So many misunderstandings could’ve been avoided if only you had known what your father thought.
It’s only after a few minutes that he breaks the silence. “I’m sorry, Baby.”
You take a deep breath in. “Thank you, but I’m not the one you need to apologize to, Daddy.”
He turns his head to look at you. “You’re right. You’re right,” he sighs.
Just then, Jake walks past your table and towards the stage, disappearing behind the curtains on the side. You lift your head, trying to see what he’s up to, but the sound of the doors at the back of the room opening and closing loudly catches your attention. It seems to catch everybody’s attention - you hear small gasps and small murmurs of a familiar name, and your mind directly lands on the possibility, but you don’t believe it until you see it standing right in front of you, a hand reaching out to you - Sunghoon’s here.
“Nobody puts Baby in a corner.”
You take his hand and let him guide you away from the table. You’re so enchanted by seeing him again that you barely notice your mother having to keep your father from stopping you. Together, you climb up the small set of stairs, walking past the performers and standing in the middle of the stage, the music stopping abruptly. His voice booms throughout the room when he speaks.
“Sorry for the disruption folks, but I always do the last dance of the season. This year, I was told not to. So I’m gonna do my kind of dancing with a great partner. Not only is she an amazing dancer, but she also taught me that people will stand for other people no matter what it costs them, and about the kind of person I want to be myself. Miss Y/N Y/L/N, everyone.” 
Whoops emerge from the back of the room where the staff are standing and you watch as Sunghoon walks to the side of the stage, discarding his leather jacket and exchanging a nod with Jake. The music starts to play - it’s a song you’ve heard before, a song you know well because you’ve danced to it many times with Sunghoon. It’s a song you love. 
He walks towards you, a smirk on his face, eyes heavy with desire. He places his hands on your waist, your own coming up to his forearm, and dips you backwards in a circle, which elicits more cheers from the dancers. He then stands behind you, imitating the starting position of the dance for your performance at the Sheldrake. The music picks up, and after that, it’s like magic. You and Sunghoon know exactly what to do, a mix of the choreography he’d taught you and of other moves you had picked up when you just danced together for fun. All the steps and turns come to you as if you know this dance by heart, and the whole time, you’re looking into each other’s eyes as they shine with happiness.
Sunghoon makes you spin away from him, and, your arm extended between you two, brings your hand up to his lips and places a delicate kiss to the back of it. Then, he jumps off the stage, prompting gasps and cheers from all around the room, and makes his way while dancing to the back of the room, where the dancers join him. Seconds before the second chorus is about to start, some of them run to you and help you off the stage, and Sunghoon nods at you from the middle of the room. So you run to him, gathering momentum until you reach him and he picks you up, lifting you from the ground up into the air, and you manage to keep your bird-like position for a few seconds. A huge smile breaks on your face as everybody cheers, your mother and sister clapping excitedly and even your father looking at you, astonished, proud. 
Sunghoon brings you back down slowly, grinning as he gazes at you with only love in his eyes. “I knew you could do it,” he whispers.
The staff starts to invite the guests to dance with them, pushing chairs to the side and getting people to stand up. Jake shows Seeun how to move, reminiscent of the way Sunghoon had done with you, your mother and Jay dance together, and the whole room turns into a dancefloor where couples and small groups can let go and move however they want to. 
You and Sunghoon head to the exit to find a quieter place, but your father calls out to you before you can slip away. “I found out you weren’t the one to get Chaewon in trouble.” Sunghoon simply nods. “I was wrong. I apologize,” he says solemnly, and the corners of Sunghoon’s lips tug slightly upwards.
“Thank you, Doctor Y/L/N.”
Your father’s eyes drift to you, and his polite expression turns affectionate. “You looked great up there, Baby.” You sigh, relief washing over your whole body and alleviating the weight on your heart. You let go of Sunghoon’s hands to wrap your arms around your father’s neck, and he takes you in a brief but tight hug.
“I’ll let you two go now. I need to find your mother, haven’t danced with her in ages. That’s something else I can thank you for,” he says, smiling down at you.
You watch him walk away for a few seconds until Sunghoon takes your hand in his again, and you slip out the doors to the front lawn. Outside, you close your eyes and take a deep breath of fresh air in, laughing for no reason other than simple joy when your eyes meet his.
He leads you to the gazebo and brings his hands to your waist again. The song is nearing its end but you can still hear it drifting through the open doors and windows of the room. You know that even when it’s over, it’ll keep playing in your head - and in your heart.
Just like you’ll always keep Sunghoon there.
You move slowly to the rhythm of the last chorus, gazing into each other’s eyes. You want to enjoy this moment for what it is, but the fact that you’re leaving tomorrow won’t leave your thoughts. This might very well be the last time you and Sunghoon ever dance together, or ever see each other. You can give each other your address and send letters, or exchange home phone numbers and call, but how long will that last? You’ll go to college while he goes home and starts working with his father again, or finds a way to fulfill his dream.
He probably sees the sadness in your eyes and brings you closer to him. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to - you know the same thoughts are cramping his mind. Words are unnecessary, and promises are futile, so for now, you forget everything else, and focus on the sway of your bodies and on his hands holding you tight against him.
Resting the side of your head on his shoulder, you look up at the night sky. The stars are shining bright, unbothered by any clouds, and the full moon gazes down at you protectively. Even when you’re apart, you and Sunghoon will still sleep under the same moon every night. You may be just one of the many love stories she’s witnessed, but you dare to think that yours is a special one, one that can’t be reproduced, one that is uniquely yours.
You continue to dance even when the song is over, letting your bodies bask in the moonlight.
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trans-eddie · 1 year
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Steve’s favorite color is yellow.
He’s given a lot of thought to his favorite color. It’s one of those things people always ask, from your very first interactions on the playground. When he was a child, it was easy; blue, because that was the normal color for boys.
When he got a little older, “normal” was no longer good enough. Tommy H told him that “normal” was boring, and didn’t stand out. If he wanted to become a Popular kid, he needed to stand out as much as he could.
Steve wanted to stand out. He wanted people to look at him, so that his parents might see how popular he was, and realize he was someone worth paying attention to.
“You need a strong favorite color.” Tommy had told him.
In middle school, Steve decided his favorite color was red. Red caught people’s eyes, red felt powerful, red got Tommy’s approval.
But his favorite color being red did not make his parents look at him, even as he graduated and moved on to high school with a buzzing reputation and all the popularity he could have dreamed of.
In high school, Steve’s parents stopped coming around. Their vacations and business trips took longer and longer, and eventually, they stopped coming home altogether. 
And the thing was, he didn’t really care all that much about the color red. When he lost the title of King, when he stopped caring about being popular, when he hated who he had been and couldn’t figure out who he wanted to be, and gave up any hope of his parents ever giving him any kind of positive attention, Steve‘s favorite color stopped being red.
He never did learn how to stop masking, though. Favorite colors, favorite movies, music preferences, they all tie into those masks, into the person you present to the world. A little adrift, Steve lost sight of any person he wanted to be, and all those things he maintained for the sake of a mask started to slip away.
“I’m worried I might not be a real person in here underneath it all,” He had told Robin once in the middle of a drive, spiraling about the void he encountered when he tried to dredge up any of his own opinions. “I feel like if no one is telling me what to do or like, or I’m not trying to meet their expectations, then I don’t know anything about myself.”
And she had calmed him down in her own awkward way, patting his shoulder like she was afraid the touch would tip him over the edge, smile a bit manic because she had no idea what to do when the driver of the car was currently bawling like a baby (her words, and a little exaggerated at that, he was tearing up at best.)
He had eventually pulled over, and she had stared him down, and rattled off a bunch of personal questions. He could find answers for none of them.
“So find them.” She’d said. “Find the things you like, what makes you happy. Don’t listen to anyone else about it, don’t think about what they want. Maybe start simple? Like your favorite color.”
So he’d tried. He’d thought, maybe it was red after all? The color of Max’s hair. Or maybe blue, because it made him think of Dustin’s ridiculous hat. Maybe green, because it was the color of spring and new things, or maybe pink, because it was pretty.
He felt lost in a sea of choices, all surrounding the one, simple, basic, childhood question most children have an answer to by the time they go to school.
Then in walked Eddie Munson.
Eddie changed a lot about his life. He hadn’t expected him to, had sort of expected him to be a blip in his radar; but Eddie is incapable of existing in the peripherals. He sauntered in with the electrifying energy of a leading man on stage, even as he cowered in a boat shed scared out of his mind, and Steve had been unable to look away.
If Robin had asked him about things he liked in the months that followed, he would have been able to confidently say Eddie Munson was among them, and wasn't that a kicker?
It was just that, Eddie was capable of walking into a room and immediately projecting every single thing about himself and what he liked into the space. You couldn’t get away from the impression of exactly who Eddie was just by the very nature of his existence.
Steve wished he were like that.
Wished he could be so self confident that he could decide what he liked without a care for what others think or how they judge him, wished he could wear it as proudly as Eddie did the patches on his vest.
(The same vest Steve still hadn’t returned.)
But he hadn’t just stolen the vest; it had been somewhat of a trade off. He had thrown his sweater at Eddie’s head shortly before diving to the depths of Lover’s Lake, only for it to never be seen again. Part of him had assumed it had just gotten swallowed up when the gate had ruptured through Hawkins.
Then Eddie had walked through the doors of the Family Video, big, dark eyes all wide and his hair piled up on his head, wearing the bright yellow of Steve’s sweater.
Steve had short circuited. Upon reboot, his first thought was, for some reason, It’s yellow. My favorite color is yellow. Yellow yellow yeLLOW YELLOW!
The second was, I like him wearing my things.
The third was, Oh. I like Eddie.
So at age twenty, Steve Harrington knows two whole things about himself: he likes Eddie Munson, and his favorite color is yellow.
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sweetlittlegingy · 1 year
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What If
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☑︎Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Sweet Nothings Masterlist
☑︎ Pairing: Jake Seresin x Y/n Seresin (Mitchell)
☑︎ Word Count: 4 k
☑︎ Warnings: Infertility, IVF, Adoption, Dad!Jake, Teacher/Mom!Reader, Kindergarteners, bad foster parents, child neglect, fluffy dagger squad, Poppa Mav
☑︎ A/n: Holy shit, I had the hardest time writing this. Life has not been kind lately in the school sense and health sense, but I still wanted to give you guys something. I hope that my month long stent has made it so you won't read it. I really appericate the love that you all have been giving me. I can't promise that updates are going to become a regular thing as of yet, but will be trying my hardest. Love you all ♥︎
☑︎Library (Follow for updates! I no longer have a taglist.)
The pitter-patter of feet running down the hallway has you looking up from the fruit bowl you're curating, to glance over your shoulder and catch sight of Laine running toward you as Bradley chases her. Her tiny body clings to your bottom half as she tries to squish in between you and the cabinet.
“Chicken, nooooo!” her small form shakes in laughter as he bends down at your side and pokes at her.
“I was promised a princess.”
Bradley’s voice tries to lower an octave though does the complete opposite and rises to a high squeak that makes you break out in laughter. Your heart swells at the sight, Bradley would make a wonderful uncle. He was already the best brother you could have asked for and since yesterday on base, he had quite literally had Laine on his hip or playing together at every moment.
Gray was never far away, though he tended to stay at neither Bob, Jake, or Javy’s side. You were so used to Gray being attached to you that seeing him interact so much with the squad was startling. You miss your little shadow, though seeing the way that he looked at Jake now was something that you would love to witness daily. Jake had told you that they just talked about planes, but you could see that it meant so much more to both of them.
The munchkin between your legs moves again, darting from Bradley’s outstretched hand as she giggles in excitement.
“I’m Jakey’s princess,” The reply stumps Bradley momentarily, long enough for her little hands to find your own. “Miss CeCe save me!”
Her hands pat at your tummy in a little rhythm as she bounces lightly on her toes. You gently slide the fruit bowl back and lower down to grab the munchkin before Brad can make another grab for her. Her small form bounces in your hold as she wraps her arms around your neck and nuzzles in.
“Run Miss CeCe!” She eyes you in excitement and you drop your gaze back to Bradley, before giving him a smirk. Your hips swivel as you turn and your arms clutch onto a giggling Laine as you run away.
“Get the fruit bowl, Chicken!”
You hear a playful huff at the name, though you’re past the hallway entryway and heading for the back deck before Bradley has a chance to yell back at you. The dimness in the hall is lit by the shining sun outside and you can see the rest of the squad lounging around in chairs while Javy and Jake bicker about grilling.
You hadn’t planned to have a BBQ, though this morning when Bradley and Nat showed up banging on the door with coolers and dessert you didn’t have any other choice.
No, you really had no other choice.
The pair had pushed through the door before you could even question them and told you that they were only here to see the twins. They then followed that up by saying that everyone was coming by, well everyone but Javy, he had spent the night after having a movie fort/sleepover night and had yet to leave. The pair had ushered you that you didn’t need to worry because Bob and Mickey were making sure to grab all the required fixings from the store so you wouldn’t have to worry.
Though you had instantly started making a fruit bowl with the strawberries, grapes, kiwi, and pineapple that you already had. The twins had helped you wash them and then used small star cookie cutters to cut shapes in the pineapple. Though once everyone had finally arrived the pair had automatically gravitated toward the outside. Bradley had also casually thrown in the fact that your dad, Penny, and Amelia were coming over as well. After your dad had met them, he instantly wanted Penny and Amelia to meet the twins.
You brush a small strand of hair from Madelaine’s face, which causes her to give you a sweet smile and then kiss your cheek. That had started last night when you were putting the twins to bed, even though they ended up in yours again during the night. The two of them were in a late-night Disney movie hazy that left them half asleep, which in turn led them to tell both you and Jake that they loved you. It had made your heart stop. You knew that you should be placing boundaries, but so many were already crossed, and Jake and you both loved them so much already.
 Your hand comes up to shield your eyes as the sun nearly blinds you. You didn’t know how it was 78 degrees at the beginning of December, but you weren’t complaining one bit. Your hold on Laine loosens as her small form wiggles until she’s free of you to run across the deck.
“Pop Pop! Ms. CeCe fought Chicken off.” She squeals in delight as your father catches her and tosses her small form in the air. That was also new, Jake had called your father Pops last night and Laine ran with it from there. Now both Gray and Laine were calling him Pop Pop, and neither your father nor anyone else had even spoken of the possibility of having them stop and having them call him Mav instead.
Your glance leaves the pair as they sit down next to Penny and Amelia, the mother and daughter duo instantly fell in love with the twins. So much so that your little sister had asked if she could babysit them sometime. She had been so happy and excited that you couldn’t tell her that you didn’t know if they would ever be back to the house.
A sigh leaves your chest as you cast your eyes around the deck to look at the group of important people in your life, though you can’t seem to find one of the most important ones. Gray wasn’t anywhere in your line of sight, and while you knew he was somewhere in the yard, that didn’t stop your breath from hitching. A pinch to your back makes you jump, while Bradley laughs and moves passed you with the fruit salad. You bat your hand at him, playfully glaring at him as he passes.
You’re still looking for Gray when you catch Jake’s eyes, he then gives you a small tip of the head out to the lawn and causes you to venture over to look out at the yard. A smile rests on your face as you lean against the railing of the deck to watch Bob, Mickey, Nat, and Gray as they lay on the lawn watching the sky. Gray’s hand shoots up causing your own eyes to shoot to the sky as a jet passes overhead. You only hear pieces of the conversation, something about cloud coverage, altitude, and flight pattern prediction, but it makes you smile all the same. Gray finally had people that would understand and listen to him, instead of brushing him off and not believing a word he said. Because as Janice had so kindly told you during a conference, “Children aren’t that smart, stop feeding into his fantasy.” The woman had riled you up to the point where you skipped over the last half of the packet, already knowing that she wasn’t listening to a thing you said about Grayson, and practically pushed her out the door.
The hands that wined around your waist and grasped onto the railing in front of you, have you relaxing back into the familiar chest. Jake’s chin settles on your shoulder after giving your cheek a small kiss causing the weight of your body to sink further into the comforting hold. You both sigh, and the mutual feeling of peace and fulfillment passes through the two of you.
“They blend in seamlessly.” Jake’s breath heats your neck, and you can’t help but to smile at the comment because it was true. They fit into your little family perfectly, and you were going to soak up every moment you had this weekend.
“I don’t want it to be over.” Jake’s hands wrap around you as you say it, and squeeze you gently. “I don’t know how I’m just going to let them go back there.” Your voice is heavy with pain that neither one of you acknowledge, instead, hoping to remain in this moment.
The tightness in your chest relieves, as neither of you can comment when you hear a whistle ring out that causes everyone to look over at Javy. He stands by the grill, with Laine on his hip as she silently waits for everyone’s attention. Javy smiles down at the small girl as she watches the group of you bouncing from excitement in his hold. Her eyes move from the group and up to Javy as the group quiets down to listen. He gives her a tiny nod that has a smile breaking out on not only her face but yours as well.
“The food is done.” Laine’s voice rings out through the backyard, but before anyone can make their way to the grill Javy whispers something else in her ear to say. “Ummm... Javy said he cooked everything, and Jakey didn’t help and that he’s the best cook.”
The comment causes everyone but Jake to laugh. A dramatic sigh falls from his lips as he steps out from behind you, only taking one step closer to the pair. You giggle as Jake clutches at his heart, eyes wide and never leaving Laine’s, before slipping to his knees beside you.
“You wound me, little darlin’.” His voice is strained and causes the surrounding group to gently smile at him. It didn’t go unnoticed how much Jake loved the twins already, and while they never mentioned the fact to you or Jake, it didn’t stop the squad from talking amongst themselves.
Jake barely has time to catch Laine as she runs into his arms and clutched onto him. She leans into his ear and whispers words that you can’t make out that have the both of them smiling. They must be good if the mega smile not resting on Jake’s face can tell you anything. Jake slowly rises to stand up while the pair laugh together, both of them looking at Javy in a teasing manner.
“You two keeping secrets now?” Your voice is questioning and has Madelaine leaning into you.
“I didn’t wanna hurt Javy’s feelings, Ms. CeCe. Jakey is still the best.” A giggle bubbles from you as she gives you a toothy grin, before you both then look at Javy and you can’t help but laugh even more at his wondering stare.
A weight settles against your leg and causes you to glance down to find Gray, already looking back up at you. His blonde locks house a few pieces of grass that you pick out, while his finger wraps around your belt loop.
“Hi, Sweetpea.” His blue eyes sparkle in the sunlight as a quiet hi is said back to you. “You ready to eat?”
You get back a small nod as he stays attached to your hip, watching the surrounding crowd from the designated safe zone. While Gray had opened up immensely to the group, he still ended up at your side whenever the group became too much. It wasn’t that he was uncomfortable, but his social anxiety and depleted self-esteem caused him to doubt his worth, especially around people he didn’t know well.
You hadn’t noticed that Jake put down Laine, though as his hands come around Gray to lift him in the same manner, he had with Laine just moments ago your heart swells. The sound of his laugh echoed through the yard as the group milled around getting food and talking, though your eyes could leave to pair.
A perfect father-son duo. You could have told anyone that the twins were your kids, not just from how they were almost identical copies of Jake. But anyone that saw how they interacted, and the amount of love that passed between them from minuscule actions and words alone.
“Come on you two, before Roos eats everything.” Your voice is teasing as you pull the pair along with you to grill to follow Laine, who already had your dad piling a mountain of food on a plate for her. Your eyes don’t miss the two different pieces of cake and brownie that cover most of the surface of the plate. You shake your head at your father, just now realizing how tightly Laine has him wrapped around her finger.
Your comment finally gained a reaction from Bradley, as a small kid playing ball lands against your back and makes you yelp before turning. You give him a smile that only a little sister can give to her older brother, followed by your tongue peeking out in a taunt.
You would give anything to stay in this moment with this group of people, your family, forever.
...
You finish putting the last dish away from the washer and wipe down the counter as the clock strikes 8:00. Signaling that it was in fact the twin’s bedtime, well the one that you had given them. Neither Janice nor Ed said if they had a nighttime routine, though you were sure that it wasn’t that they forgot to mention it. No, from what you knew, the pair of them didn’t care so long as the twins didn’t disturb them and stayed in their room.
Wiping your hand one last time, you slowly make your way down the hall in search of the three individuals that consumed your every waking thought. You glance at the guest room and the perfectly made bed, knowing that the twins wouldn’t be sleeping in there tonight either. Only to venture future down the hall when you hear the near-silent humming coming from your bedroom. The dimming sun no longer lights your house and the warm glow coming from the lamp in your room just barely reaches your outline as you settle against the door frame.
Jake sits in the middle of the bed wearing a pair of sweats and tee-shirt that he had slipped on earlier when you sent him to take a shower while you did a couple pages of homework with the twins. He then had the duty of wrangling the two of them into the bath and making sure that they didn’t flood the bathroom floor like they had on you last night. You had disappeared at their request for bubbles and when you came back, nearly half of the tub water was on the floor. You had tried so hard to appear cross with them, though, at the sight of the sheepish smiles they gave you, your heart had overflown with love. You weren’t going to stop the pair of them from doing something that wasn’t dangerous, because it made a small mess. You knew that the carefree spirit that encased them wasn’t something that they were normally allowed to do.
From the looks of it though, tonight had defiantly gone in Jake’s favor. Not only from his dry pajamas but the fact that both Madelaine and Grayson had both found their places in bed next to him without a second thought. That they both felt a sense of peace and protection from Jake’s presence.
The three of them were a sight that warmed your heart beyond compare and made you curse yourself for leaving your phone on the kitchen table, missing the picture-perfect moment. In the middle of Jake’s lap, Laine sits as he braids her hair into two little French braids that just reach her shoulders. While Gray lays behind them cuddling your pillow, eyes fluttering open and closed as he tries to stay awake.
“Your sisters would be happy to know you can still braid hair.” Your voice floats through the room; Gray just barely looks at you only to give you a tiny smile, as Laine twists the finished braid around her finger trying to hide the yawn that slips passed her lips.
“I would hope that ten years of braiding their hair for volleyball whenever mom was late for a game, would have stuck with me.” His laugh makes you smile as you watch the pair of them momentarily. Jake had fallen into the dad role easily, and while you both were so happy to have the twin, you worried about how they would handle having to go back to Janice and Ed’s house Monday.
Jake's eyes lift to you while his fingers work seamlessly back and forth, he could always tell when something was on your mind. The snap of the final tiny elastic getting wrapped around the end of the braid, has you looking back up at the flawless braid. Jake’s arms softly wrap around Laine to lay gently squeezes at her waist, as her small hands rub tiredly at her eyes. She leans back in his hold, snuggling up to him as her eyes start to droop like Gray’s.
“I think Roos and Nat tuckered them out with that last game of tag.” You laugh lightly thinking about the sight of Bradley holding each of the twins in an arm, and running away from Nat.
“I’m sure that they’re just as tired, Rooster probably fell asleep on his couch and didn’t even make it to his bed.” You laugh at Jake’s comment because you know for a fact that Bradley fell asleep on the couch from the picture Bob sent you an hour ago.
 Jake glances down at the weight against his chest, Laine turns slightly as she sighs and fully relaxes to cuddle in closer. She holds onto Jake’s black tee shirt with one hand while to other grasps onto her ocean blanket, falling into sleep like it was a warm hug. Jake slowly lifts her, which causes both of her hands to wrap around his neck and his to rub at her back. He whispers soothing sounds as his hand glides up and down her back, helping her relax again. Jake is quick to move her before she can settle in too much though, not wanting to wake the munchkin up from setting her down. He easily turns around with her in his hold and lays her down against his pillow across from Gray.
Her small body lays encased by the surrounding blankets as she snuggles in closer and sighs as Jake tucks the duvet under her chin and kisses her forehead. Jake moves over to tuck in Gray as well as you gently brush the stray baby hairs from Laine’s face and gently kiss her head. Followed by you then tucking and kissing Gray as well, before you sneak into the bathroom to change into your PJs while Jake heads to the living room.
You find Jake laid out on the sofa, hands behind his head with two steaming cups of tea sitting on the coffee table. He gives you a dopy smile that makes your heart beat just a bit faster, before crawling into his open arms. Your legs rest around his waist and your head settles on his chest to listen to the steady rhythm of his heart.
Neither of you moves as you watch the sunset through the massive living room window that faces the Pacific. Jake’s hand slowly slips into your hair and runs his fingers through it gently without even realizing it. Though the small moan of relief causes him to chuckle in realization, before kissing the top of your head and resuming.
“We could do it you know.” His voice is tired and there’s a deep sound of longing intertwined with the words. You hum in question, happy to listen, but far too comfortable to lift your head from his chest and have a conversation.
“The twins; we could apply for adoption.”
His words hang in the air, sure you both had thought and talked about it over and over. Though there was something in Jake’s tone that was different this time. This wasn’t your Jakey that you could tease and easily rial up. No, this was Jacob. The man that got in a fistfight with one of your mother’s ex-boyfriends after he made a backhanded comment about your lack of pregnancy. The man that would protect the people that he loved, even if it meant putting himself in danger. He was serious, so serious that you half wondered if he had already been looking into the adoption process that the state of California had in place.
“Baby –”
“I’m serious darlin’. They are in every single thought I have about our future; I can’t even fathom a life without them anymore.” Jake’s hand slips from your hair and now both of them wrap around you. He clings to you, and you slowly realize that his tense chest and tight hold on you are in fear of your reaction to him wanting to adopt the twins. Your heart aches, you knew how much both of them meant to you. But hearing Jake tell you out loud that he didn’t see a future that didn’t include the twins, officially confirms just how much you both want the twins.
Knowing that is conversation deserved more than just your muffled words against Jake’s chest you slowly sit up, still on Jake’s lap but now able to see each other’s faces. You both could read each other like an open book and though you were positive that Jake was being sincere, you had to see the look in his eyes. You had to be absolutely sure before you let the idea blossom into a reality.
“Adopting them isn’t going to be easy, Jake. Janice and Ed are going to throw a fit because they want to keep getting their monthly check.” Your voice is gentle but firm, “And I hate to even say it, but we have to think about the fact that there are two of them. We planned for one baby, Jake. Can we financially even take on them and give them the life that they deserve?”
Jake's hand moves from your waist to brush against your cheek and causes you to lean farther into him. He knows that your reluctance is only because you’re afraid that you aren’t good enough to be their mom, a mom in general. You didn’t have the breakdowns a lot, but when you did, they were bad. And no matter how much he assured you, you were terrified that the universe wasn’t giving you a child because you weren’t worthy.
Jake’s other hand finds your cheek as well to tilt your head back up. Your chin and eyes had fallen, but Jake needed you to realize that you deserved a child more than anyone.
“Darlin’ we are more than financially stable to take them on. I’m teaching now and missions are rare. I want them to be ours.” Your head nods in his hold but he can feel the cogs in your head turning.
“Honey, look at me.” Your eyes lift and Jake’s heart cracks to see your waterline filled with tears. “You deserve to be a momma more than anyone I know. Maybe things worked out the way they did because some higher power knew that there would be two twin terrors that would need us just as much as we need them.”
A tear falls from your eyes and Jake is quick to brush it away. “You think?” Your voice is small and broken, though you trust Jake more than anyone else and if he said this was the family that both of you deserved and needed, you would believe him.
“I know, darlin’.”
Your face tucks into Jake’s neck and the tiny laugh of joy you give him, makes his arms tighten around as a smile forms on his lips. Your voice is muffled, but Jake hears you perfectly. “We’re gonna make them ours.”
“They’re already ours, darlin’. We’re just gonna make it official now.”
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babyjakes · 10 months
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if this was a movie.
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summary | your nerdy best friend is gonna make you a star.
pairing | nerd!best friend!jake jensen x reader
warnings | jakey is lowkey a perv but that's exactly how we love him. best friend!jakey except he's so down bad for reader. reader is nervous/inexperienced. filming/making porn. fingering (both holes >:^)). heavy clit focus, my beloved <3. clit slapping. squirting. praise and humiliation. so many petnames (it's jakey, duh.) me again picking a taylor title bc i have no impulse control.
word count | 1,165
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an | hehe well :^) i've been thinking about nerdy bestie jakey for a while and i just thought i'd write a little something for him, i've been thinking a LOT about pornstar/director au's lately and this felt like a cute little way to enter the genre. hope you guys enjoy, please help me spread my love for jakey by reblogging!!! <3
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"A-Are you sure about this, Jakey?" you ask, wide-eyed as you lean back carefully against your best friend's second-hand leather sofa. In front of you, the blonde-haired boy fiddles with his camera, trying to get the angle of the tripod just right.
Jake looks up at you through the round frames of his glasses, giving you a confident smile. "'Course I am, sweetcheeks," he promises as he finally finds a shot he likes. "Remember all those filming classes I took in high school? Looks like they're finally gonna pay off," he chuckles.
"I-I just, I don't know," you admit shyly as your friend hits record, a small red light shining to the side of the camera's wide lens. "Will people even wanna watch this sort of thing?"
Jake furrows his brow as he crouches down in front of you on the floor, reaching out a hand to rub your knee as you hug your legs up to your chest nervously. "Of course they will, cutie. You're gonna be a hit, just wait and see. Guys online will go crazy over a sweet little thing like you." He gently places a large hand over each of your knees, easing them to either side of the couch to give the camera a full view of your sheer lace panties. "These are so pretty, honey," Jake murmurs as he carefully runs a few fingers over your clothed pussy, causing heat to rise up in your cheeks as you let out a soft whimper. "Don't be nervous, sweetie. Try to forget the camera's even there, yeah? S'just you and me, I got you."
You turn your head to the side, too embarrassed to watch as your best friend continues petting you lightly over the thin strip of fabric covering your most sensitive places. "Mmm," you can hear the smile in Jake's voice as he notes, "you're already getting wet, sweetheart. Look so sweet like this, doing so good for me." He focuses a single finger to rub against the small damp patch in the center of your panties. "Right there," he sighs happily as he takes his time teasing you. "What do you say, pretty girl? Should we give your adoring audience a closer look?"
His hands come up to hook under the waistline of the undies as he gently eases them off of you. Your legs instinctually close again, but he's quick to open you back up for the camera, spreading you nice and wide as your cheeks only burn more with humiliation and uncertainty. "There," Jake coos, giving the viewers the exact shot he knows they've been waiting for. "There she is, oh my," he chuckles as he drags a finger through your leaking folds, stringing out your arousal for you and everyone watching to see. "Look at how excited you are, baby. Here, why don't we just-" his voice lulls a bit as he uses both of his large hands to spread your dripping cunt further open, his mouth practically watering at the sight. "Oh honey," he murmurs. "You've been keeping this all to yourself? What a shame, s'the prettiest little pussy I've ever seen."
Your muscles twitch as the man keeps you suspended in anticipation, just lightly manipulating your flesh this way and that to give the camera an array of angles and views, with all of you spread out so helplessly, of course. "Wanna make sure they can see everything, sweetie," he explains in a soothing manner as he pulls back the hood around your hardened bundle of nerves, giving the exposed head a quick few swipes with his finger. You gasp, jerking at the sudden burning pleasure. "Mhmm, just as I thought," the blonde observes aloud. "Already so sensitive, aren't you, cutie? You're very swollen down here, guess I'm not surprised."
Jake brings the pads of two of his digits down to begin circling over your drenched hole. "Easy, sweet thing. M'gonna stretch you open now, okay? Wanna let your fans see how tight this little baby pussy is." You let out a fluttering sigh as he coaxes his fingers into you. "That's it," he encourages you, "fuck, so fucking tight, pretty girl." He takes a moment with his fingers fully inserted, spreading them apart to let your viewers see your poor little hole being stretched as far as it can manage.
Once he's satisfied with the spectacle he's given, he begins working his fingers in and out of you, his pace gradually increasing as your legs fall further apart while you hum and moan softly to yourself. "Good, that's my good girl," he smiles as he surprises you by spitting down on your puckered asshole, earning a gasp from you as your knees tremble.
He begins teasing the entrance to your virgin bottom with the pad of his thumb, biting his tongue in concentration as you begin falling apart beneath his touch. "J-Jakey," you groan softly in humiliation, "please, I- oh!" Your protests are cut off by a strained whine escaping your lips, his thick digit having forced its way past the tight outer ring of your poor rosebud. "Jakey, Jakey," you whimper, your eyes rolling back on their own as your head falls to the side, the pressure in your tummy becoming more and more urgent.
"C'mon, cutie. Keep making those pretty sounds for me. You gonna be a good girl and cum for the camera?" All you can manage in response is a string of incoherent whimpers and whines. Jake chuckles almost cruelly at the pathetic state he's brought you to. "I'll take that as a yes. Almost there, baby. Here, let's help you out a little, huh?"
His free hand finds your clit, tugging back on the surrounding skin to expose the poor bundle of nerves as he again swipes mercilessly at it, reducing you nearly to tears as an unbearable tightness forms in your gut. "Please, please!" you pant, your hands scrambling to grip at the couch beneath you as you hurtle to the edge of your climax, well past the point of no return.
"Come on, sweetheart. Give us a big one," Jake cheers as you cry out in euphoria, your body convulsing violently as your orgasm tears through you. "That's it, that's my girl," Jake beams proudly as he rips his fingers out of you, smacking his drenched digits down against your poor exposed button to force you to squirt. Across your entire body, your skin is ablaze. Your high feels like it lasts for entire minutes before finally beginning to cease, tiny shocks and tingles shooting through your limbs as you float down, struggling to catch your breath.
Through half-closed lids, you can barely look out at the blonde-haired boy kneeling before you. He smiles gently, easing his fingers out of you as you let out a final set of jumbled whimpers. "That's my girl," he says again, reaching up to cup your cheek softly. "I just knew it. My girl's gonna be a star."
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I often see people describe Spider as a neglected child. Do you think that is totally accurate? Would Norm and the other scientists have set rules and boundaries? If Lo’ak and Spider did something stupid together would Jake punish both of them? What would a scene like this look like?
Hello! I know you sent this question to other creators like a month ago. Sorry this took me so long to get to. I’ve been busy and I really wanted to give a detailed answer to this but I could just never make the time until now.
So short answer yes I definitely think Spider is a neglected child.
Long answer:
While I do believe some of his basic physical needs were met like food/water/shelter I don’t believe all his physical needs were met. First is just basic safety and while I don’t think his foster parents the McCosker’s physical beat him they definitely didn’t seem to care about him. From what we see in the comics and in the movie Spider was allowed to leave the base by himself at a very young age, like around 7-8 from the look of him. I personally take huge issue with this. I’d love to know how far away the village is from Hells Gate because maybe if it was super close, like you could see it from base kind of close, then I don’t think it’d be as bad but either way your letting a child, who is already super tiny compared to his huge surroundings loose in a jungle that we are told point blank from Jake’s narration is dangerous! Like it’s one thing to let your kid walk to a friends house to teach them independence but what parent would let their child do that if they could be potentially eaten by a tiger or trampled by a rhino. But that’s exactly what the scientist and the McCoskers are letting Spider do! That is just so negligent to me.
Next is Spider’s hair which I know we talk to death about for a lot of different reasons. So I actually have the exact same hair texture that we see baby Spider having so I can personally attest to it tangling easily when not properly maintained. After looking at 7-8 year old Spider i feel like I can pretty confidently say those aren’t dreads they’re mats. That’s what dry, unwashed, un brushed curly hair looks like after weeks.
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From my research children typically need help with taking care of their hair until around age 12 and so the fact that his hair is matted tells me no body is helping him. And that could lead to issues down the line because matted hair can grow mold which will obviously make you sick. Even when we see Spider at 16 he hasn’t learned how to maintain his dreadlocks properly. They’re uneven, there’s unlocked hair sticking out all over the place. Really to me it looks more like he did his best to do something with his hair after all the childhood neglect. So yeah not putting in the effort to properly take care of a child’s hair when they’re to young to do it themselves is a form of physical neglect in my eyes
Now onto bigger issues.
We see from the comics that Spider’s foster parents just flat out don’t care about him. Other creators have gotten into that so I won’t go on about it. What I will go on about though is that I think it’s a failure of every adult that saw how neglectful and uncaring the McCosker’s where to Spider but did nothing. They did nothing because it was easier for them to do nothing. Sometimes foster placements don’t work out and when that happens you find an alternative until you find something that best fits the child. They didn’t do that! They did what was easiest for the adults and that was to turn a blind eye. I’m guessing after the events of the high ground comics that Spider didn’t even really have a guardian to answer to. He was basically just a ward of the rebels. I really do hope we get to see him interact with characters like Norm and Max post his kidnapping because from what we see in the movie Kiri was the only one worried about him. I think it would have been nice if during the scene where Jake and Norm are talking about Kiri’s seizer Jake asked if Norm had any new information about Spider, so we the audience would see that these adults do care about this kid. We don’t get that though.
And honestly I take huge issue with Jake’s treatment of Spider. I didn’t like it when I first watched the movie and never felt like he earned the “son for a son” line because again we never even saw him care about Spider aside from him asking Neytiri not to kill him which is beyond bare minimum. Reading the comics made me straight up appalled. My jaw hit the ground during the climax of the story when they are being chased by R.D.A, shot at, the forest is burning and Jake told Spider to turn himself in because he was slowing them down! And my poor boy just promised to keep up!
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And I know Jake believes that they won’t hurt Spider because he’s just a kid but 1. Why would you even think that? Seriously what evidence do you have that the R.D.A wouldn’t hurt this kid. They are your enemy! They’re literally shooting at you as you speak! What makes you think they wouldn’t shoot Spider on site! Why would you even take that chance with a child’s life! Even if they do accept his surrender then what? Are you okay with this kid being sent back to Earth? Or being forced to live on the R.d.A’s base with little to no say of what happens to him? And 2. They do hurt him! A year later when Spider gets kidnapped Ardmore was willing to turn Spider into a vegetable to get the information she wanted! The only reason that didn’t happen was because Quaritch stopped him. This is just going to be an all me rant for a second but I could never leave a child behind like Jake did with Spider. I don’t care how tough you think he is he’s 16! And he was left in the enemies hands on an absolutely insane amount of good faith that they wouldn’t stoop low enough to hurt him. They fucking tortured him. And if Jake had at least payed lip service to being worried about Spider I’d be slightly more inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt and say there was nothing he could do to get Spider out of Bridgehead, he had to protect his others kids. But he doesn’t. He says that Spider’s a tough kid and that’s that.
So to wrap this up Spider was incredibly neglected. Based off of everything I said above it seems to me that the adults provided bare minimum necessities and then just let him run wild which is no way to treat a child especially when their young. We’d be here all day if I started up on the emotional neglect of this boy. I truly hope we get to see Jake treat Spider better in the next movie and that we get to see Spider interact with Norm and Max.
Those are my thoughts. If anyone disagrees I’d be happy to have a respectful conversation about it. I’m always curious to hear other people’s opinions. 💙
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Skin Deep - Part 2
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Moodboard created by @jakekiszkasleftnutsack
Shout out to @kiszkasun for providing tattoo edits of the boys 🖤
@pennylanefics for the beautiful tatt!jake moodboard that sparked the idea.
Pairing: Josh Kiszka x f!reader x Jake Kiszka
Warnings: cursing, sexually explicit content - MINORS DNI!! (Oral m!receiving, fingering, hand stuff - m!recieving, dirty talk, praise kink, spit kink, super light choking if you squint, biting)
A/N: This has become a twin series (smut with both of them for those unaware, so if this isn’t your thing, keep scrolling) , and I found that I had to break up some of the chapters due to the size of the fic. So I don’t want Jake girlies coming after me. There will be plenty of Jake interactions coming up. I PROMISE. Feedback and your support is always appreciated. Hope y’all enjoy this installment 🖤
Thank you @asparrowofthedawn for all the Pinterest diving, daily support and inspo for this fic. It doesn’t go unappreciated. Also a thank you to @capturethechaos for letting me bug them with my rambling thoughts and updates on this story.
Masterpost, Part 1
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The first thing you realize when you pry your eyelids apart, is that you’re not in your bedroom. The luxury cotton blend of high-thread count sheets brushing up against your cheek aren’t the ones fitted across your mattress. The mustard-yellow painted wall isn’t one you recognize, and the soft light filtering in through the windows doesn’t happen at home. You blink away your blurred vision until it comes into focus, finally seeing the vintage movie posters decorating the room.
As you’re slowly dragged into consciousness, you hear the faint sounds of snoring beside you. It startles you at first, making you turn abruptly to prop yourself up on your elbow. You realize it’s Josh facing away from you, laying across his stomach. He’s still sleeping soundly, face hidden and tucked away into the crook of his elbow.
The memories of the night prior flood your mind, and the shock of what transpired runs through your body, making you huff out a breath of disbelief. Reeling from it, you take the moment of peace to look around his room, something that felt rather intimate despite everything that has already happened between you.
 A wooden artist desk sits in the corner, locked in an upright position with sheets of toned paper taped to its surface. On the shelves above it, metal tins sit filled with a collection of pens, paintbrushes and markers. A large tapestry is tacked to the wall on the far side. Exotic potted plants are scattered around the room, resting on shelves, onto the floor and even hanging from the ceiling — giving the space a sense of life. 
Soon, your eyes find Josh again. The blanket is draped across his waist, giving you the view of his bare back for the first time. Most of Josh’s body is touched by ink, but the expansive piece captures your attention as he takes in the steady breaths of slumber. Starting in the center of his spine, the floral mandala spreads out into two massive lotus flowers on each shoulder blade. You reach out, tracing his warm skin with a feather-light touch of your fingers along the bold linework of each petal. It’s ambitious, still unfinished with only a fraction of the design filled with the rich, vibrant colors. 
Pitched hums vibrate in his chest as he starts to stir when your fingertips travel between his shoulders and up to where the tattoo ends at the nape of his neck. You quickly retreat your hand to your chest when he stretches and rotates onto his back. A heavy sigh leaves him, and for a second you think he might be awake, but the way his mouth parts with a hushed snore tells you otherwise.
His tousled curls have lost their shape, falling over his brow with his head buried into the pillow. Long lashes kiss the high point of his cheeks that have been painted pink with the spring sun. 
You have never been in denial about how attractive you found him. Now, as you look upon him in his purest and most vulnerable form, you can truly appreciate his beauty. Even to the tiny scar beside his mouth or the one nicked below his left brow — tiny imperfections that tell a story for a moment in time. 
Maybe you’re still riding on the wave of impulsivity that led you to this predicament in the first place when you lean into him. The kiss you place below his ear is what makes his arm slip around your back to pull you in tighter. The tip of your nose brushes against the crushed-velvet of his buzzed hair, ticking you in the process. A sleep laden groan rumbles in his throat, vibrating against your lips while you explore the sharp line of his jaw. The late morning light peeking through the blinds catches the wet marks you’re leaving across the tattoos covering his neck. You let the tip of your tongue follow the lines of the petals, breathing him in as if you could smell the sweet scent of the inked peonies. The feeling of your mouth brings him a step closer to consciousness, eliciting a heavy sigh from his chest. 
Nuzzling into the crook of his neck, you trail your hand down his bare, tattooed chest, passing over your fingers over the sparrows and bed of poppies. The muscles of his stomach quiver from your sensual touch, making his hips shift against the mattress. You’re expecting the waistband of at least a pair of underwear, but instead, you feel the trimmed patch of hair when you slip your fingers beneath the blanket. 
He’s warm and soft cupped in your hand. You’re gentle with your touch, keeping him safe as you guide him into a state of wakefulness. A shudder rolls through him with a moan that cracks through the thick air settling in his bedroom. His fingertips press into your side, and you feel him harden in your palm with every steady beat of his heart. 
You notice the lustful scent of sex still lingering on him as you place another heady kiss to his collarbone, quickly giving into the urge to bite along the thin, delicate skin. His hand slides up your back and through your hair, wrapping around the nape of your neck, and gives it a firm squeeze with his fingers as your teeth graze across him.
His back arches up from the bed once your tongue creates a path down to his nipple, following it with a louder groan when you flick across it. 
“Morning.” The dreamy crackle of this voice delivered to you in a heavy sigh makes your elbows weak as you crawl down his body. Your eyes flick up to see him squinting through barely-open lids right before he rubs the sleep from his lashes with the heel of his palm. 
You blow a stream of cool air through pursed lips, watching it harden instantly. A breathy whine falls from his open mouth as he writhes beneath you, bucking his hips to drive himself through your hand in an act of impatience. He’s no longer dormant, twitching in the loose grasp of your fingers as he stiffens with each passing second.
“Good morning,” you hum through your open-kisses down his sternum. You nip at the soft flesh of his belly below his navel with a deliberate pump of your fist over his length. 
Within the short amount of time spent with him, you are starting to think nothing about this man could surprise you. However, you’re proven wrong when you pull the duvet away from his stomach and discover something peculiar that catches your eye, making you pause the movement of your hand. The permanent illustration you find yourself studying for longer than you’d admit, is a pair of cherries placed a few inches from the base of him — a hidden treasure below his waist, tucked between the divot of his hip and where you were about to place your lips. Two green leaves sprout from the stem, and its vivid shade of red shines in the illustrator’s choice to dip them in a glaze of sticky syrup that runs down the round edge of the fruit in three seductive drips. A banner ribbon wraps around the middle of them, taunting you with the words ‘Bite Me’ in bold font.
You huff a laugh of shock as your fingers feel over the smooth skin. “This has got to be the sluttiest thing about you.”
He’s peering down at you through drowsy lids, his arm now bent behind his head with a smug grin plastered across his stupidly handsome face. He draws in his bottom lip between his teeth before he asks in a raspy tone that makes your chest tighten, “You like it?”
My god, you do. 
You’re not willing to reveal your hand to him just yet, so you deflect with a question of your own. “Who gave you this?”
Laughter suddenly breaks free into the quiet room, the sound throaty and heavy when it hits your ears. “I don’t kiss and tell, baby.”
You allow your mind to wander with the thoughts of him getting it, picturing how he might’ve been in a similar position to the one you were in last night. You imagine how he looked with the band of his pants pulled down just enough as the strokes of the needle made contact with the sensitive skin. Something about this tattoo in particular has a feminine touch, and you can’t help the pang of slight jealousy hitting your chest and curiosity from entering your mind. 
Even though your weak attempt at a bluff is starting to crumble, you stay vigilant with a purposeful click of your tongue. “Pity.” 
Before he’s able to respond with a witty remark, you roll your tongue across the tattoo as if there really was sweet juice from the cherries that could wet your taste buds. An almost feline-like purr rumbles in his throat as you lick your way to the other side. His fingers brush your hand that you’ve draped across his stomach before reaching up to touch your hair. 
You suck at the tender skin while slowly stroking him. The lapping of your tongue and nipping of your teeth, paired with the deliciously slow flick of your wrist, causes his fingers to leave you.
A whispered curse flutters from his lips, but your eyes remain closed while you keep your mouth sealed around him. A sharp hiss through his teeth  transforms into a moan of pleasure as the familiar blushed splotches of your own cherry-sized love-mark form on the surface. 
“Something to remember me by,” you whisper in admiration as you catch your breath and wipe the string of saliva from your lip. 
A sighed hum breaks into giggles. “I don’t think I’m ever forgetting you.”
The thought makes you blush and a wave of heat rises from your belly to your chest, but you decide that exploring the new influx of feelings he has created for you would have to wait another time. 
“So, being the better-looking twin, I have the nicer dick, ri- oh…” He trails off, falling into a sort-of trance from your casting spell, staring at the bead of spit dribble from your bottom lip. It falls onto the pretty pink head – a lovely shade that matches the one of his lips —and starts to drip down before you swipe it across with your thumb. 
Now slick from your mouth, you slide your hand around his length with a rolling twist of your wrist. A violent shudder rolls through him as the mumbled praise leaves his mouth, “Fuck…that’s so good. Just like that.”
You tease him like this through a few deliberate strokes until you decide to bring your lips to him. A devilish grin curls at the upturned corners of his lips with brazen confidence brimming through each word. “You gonna suck my cock, baby?”
You flash him a coy smile, but otherwise stay silent to let your actions do the talking for you. He watches your every move, but can barely contain the broken whimper within his clamped mouth when you finally lick that blissful spot beneath the tip. You’re making sure to keep your eyes locked on him as you push him inch-by-inch along your flattened tongue. It’s obvious he’s fighting the temptation to close them, but the way his dark brows pull together and how his mouth parts through panting breaths tells you everything you need to know. 
Just when he expects you to stop, you don’t. Instead, you keep nudging him farther and farther until he hits the back of your throat and the tip of your nose brushes ever-so-slightly against the trimmed hair.
You have to suppress the gag threatening to creep up with deep breaths while allowing your eyes to finally close. He’s pressing himself past the point of your limit, throbbing desperately in the wet warmth of your mouth. You pause for a few moments, letting him soak in the consuming feeling of his cock nestled as deep as it can go. Lifting your head from him, you lick up the streams of drool that have leaked past your lips, cleaning him in a less-than-subtle act of depravity. He takes in the sight of your little show, groaning through clenched teeth, “Holy shit. That feels fucking amazing.”
Your thighs clench in an aching need from the sound of his deeper voice. You swirl your tongue around the head in a changing pattern of circles, tasting him as if he’s a lollipop that shares the same sugary-sweet flavor of those cherries. He sucks in a sharp breath, and a praise hits your ears through a strangled moan, “Yes…yes, baby, oh my god!”
A glance up through your lashes gives you the chance to see him throwing his hands back into the flattened mess of curls buried into the pillow. You stare, fixating on the way the muscles in his arms flex and how his chest rises and falls rapidly from ragged breaths. Something catches your eye, and you realize it’s the light reflecting off the tiny metal ball of his tongue ring swiping across his lip. His eyelids are clamping hard enough to form a small crease between his brows as his open mouth creates a perfect “O” shape. “Oh god…” 
The rhythmic bobbing of your head is sloppy, and the borderline-pornographic sounds echoing around the walls of his room would have been more-than shameful to anyone else but the two of you. You find that you have to wrap your hand around what your mouth can’t quite reach, just like you had done with Jake the night before. A ragged cry catches in the back of his throat, but he quickly clears the noise with a forceful grunt, “Fucking…Christ!”
You know he’s teetering on the very edge by the way his stomach muscles are flexing from the rapid build of his orgasm. The slippery pop! of him from your lips yanks his focus back to you in a heartbeat, and the lust-drunken daze swirling in his blown-out pupils makes you giggle for a moment. Although, his eyes don’t stay locked on you for more than a few seconds as they flit behind heavy lids while you continue to pump a tight fist around him. 
The delightful squeeze of your fingers around the swollen tip with each upward stroke of your wrist is dancing the line of pleasure and torture for him. He doesn’t dare complain, but the agonizing pace you're choosing causes a sheen of sweat to form on his bare chest that’s now heaving up and down like broken bellows. 
He taps your arm in a panic to signal defeat, accepting the complete loss of control. His strained voice is breathless, cracking through tightened vocal cords across a dry tongue, “I can’t…I-I’m gonna cum, baby.”
Not wanting to waste another second, you take him back into the silken feeling of your mouth, enveloping him in its addicting warmth. The way his cock twitches, hardening past the point you thought was physically possible, reveals that his words are nothing but the truth. You’re determined to drive him as deep as he can go with a purposeful flick of your tongue along the base. It doesn’t take longer than a few seconds for his shaky fingers to wrap around your wrist as he succumbs to the tidal wave of his release. If there was any doubt whether his brother could hear you both before, it’s gone now with Josh crying out his mantra of profanities. With a faltering lift of his hips, the heat of his come hits the back of your throat with a force you don’t expect, making it spasm through every swallow. You drink every last drop of him down without question until he’s on the brink of overstimulation. 
You pepper kisses the raised point of his hip as he comes down from his euphoric high. The whimpered exhales bubble into giggles as he wipes the hair back from his sweaty brow. He props himself up on an elbow, and looks down at you with that grin plastered across his flushed face. 
He huffs an exaggerated breath, “Okay, I’m a little upset Jake experienced that first.”
You roll your eyes in feigned disapproval, “You can’t be serious.”
“C’mere.” He reaches forward to grab your wrist, guiding you onto his lap as he starts to sit up on the bed. You’re both careful in your movements with the fresh tattoo on your leg.
 Despite the soreness of your thigh, you settle into the position with a natural ease, taking his face into your cupped palms. The apples of his cheeks are blushing a rosy hue, radiating with a unique glow that could only come from a post-sex haze. Something else grabs your attention when he yawns, and for a second you doubt yourself. You know it's not your mind playing tricks when he wipes his fingers across his mouth, and you’re able to see it for the second time. Acting out of pure impulse, you grasp his bottom lip between your thumb and finger to get a better look.
 There it is.
 A badly faded tattoo inked into the pink flesh of his inner lip. You think you’re mistaken at first, so you blink a few times and squint to make sure you’re reading the letters correctly. Despite the arguably poor line work, you can still make out the bold lettering ‘PU$$Y”. 
“You’ve got to be fucking joking,” you scoff in disbelief, but before you can release his lip, he pretends to bite at your fingers until you swat him away. 
His hands are roaming freely over your ass and up your back when pouts out the lip in question. “What? You don’t like that one?”
“I think I stand corrected. That is probably the sluttiest thing about you.” Snorting a laugh, you rub the muscles of his shoulders until your arms cross behind his neck.
He sighs at the satisfying feeling of your nails lightly scratching his scalp. “I was actually looking to get it removed here soon.” His eyes flutter closed as he cranes his neck back, similar to a cat leaning into a hand to be petted. “I can’t say it's my proudest moment.”
Withdrawing your hands from his hair, you ask out of curiosity, “So what’s the story behind this one?”
You swear you see embarrassment flash across his features from how he chews at his lip. “Ah well, besides being nineteen, alone with a bottle of tequila and access to a tattoo machine? I’m afraid there’s not much more to the tale than that.”
You would’ve laughed if it wasn’t for the barely-detectable shift in his mood, and guilt starts to stir in your gut from fear that you’ve struck a nerve with the topic. You brush your fingertips across his slightly-downturned mouth, asking in a hushed voice, “You did it yourself?”
He hums his answer, smiling from your affectionate touch, but his eyes remain focused on his hands that are busy caressing up your sides. Maybe he’s distracting himself, or even you, when he cups your breasts, giving them a playful squeeze in the palms.
You whine at the feeling, and squirm in his lap as you stroke the trimmed hair of his mustache with your index finger, humming in thought. “Ya’know, I think you should shave this.”
He chuckles, sending the warm, airy laughter across your chest. “Why? Don’t like that either?”
“No! No, I do,” you insist in a too-loud voice, and the kiss placed on your collarbone nearly made the next thought disintegrate on your tongue. “But I also think it’s a shame to cover up your beautiful lips. A clean-shaven look would suit you.”
“Hmmm. I might have to consider that.” He draws the tip of his nose up the column of your extended throat, breathing you in through a deep inhale. “Might make up for the shitty lip tattoo.”
You’re putty in his hands, forgetting where you are, or even what day it is when he kisses up your neck as he roams across the contour of your ass and between your legs. You groan in response, “Maybe there’s nothing wrong with stating your favorite meal.” 
His response to your sentiment is a heavy breath that verges on the edge of a growl hitting your throat. His hands quickly find their place around your waist to rock you forward enough to feel his cock twitch and harden beneath you, making you giggle in shock, “Already?”
He scoffs, pulling away just far enough to give you a view of his face, “I'm sorry. I wasn’t aware that your expectations of me included not getting hard when you sit naked on my dick.”
That look he’s giving you. The same one you saw the first day you met him. It’s the one that could sell you on anything he desired. 
You only roll your eyes in response before glancing at the nightstand in search of your phone. “What time is it?”
“Hmm… I dunno. But for some reason I don’t care,” he sighs with an unbothered lilt in his voice, and tries to bring you in for a kiss, but you pull away before his lips touch yours. 
He rips his head away, brows raised at you in disbelief, huffing a sharp puff of air through his nose. “I’m offended.”
“Well, I’m sorry to offend, but I really have to brush my teeth, and I’m in desperate need of a shower.”
“Alright, alright. I’ll let it slip just this once because that’s not a bad idea. I’m sure there’s a pack of toothbrushes in the bathroom somewhere.” A mischievous grin forms on his face.“ And I’m never one to turn down a shower with a beautiful woman.”
You slide off his lap and off the edge of the bed, and throw a quip over your shoulder, “Who says you’re joining?”
The sharp smack of his hand to your ass elicits a high-pitched squeak from your throat while sending you forward in the direction of his door.  You pad across the wooden floor — barefoot and naked — to exit his bedroom and walk into the hall. Not remembering much from the night before, the layout of their house is foreign to you. There is a closed door across from Josh’s, which you’re quick to remember is Jake’s, but as you turn left to wander in search for the bathroom, you see an open door. 
You flip on the switch, and take in the sight when your eyes adjust to the new lighting. You were in here at one point in the night, but the little details of the space were the last thing on your mind given the circumstances. Now, in the light of day and a clearer conscience, you’re able to absorb everything more clearly.
To your left is a modern style black vanity with two white, porcelain basins resting on its surface. Across from you is a massive walk-in shower encased in glass walls. Golden bathroom fixtures contrast the almost-black, gray hexagonal tile work that lines the inside of the shower. 
You slowly venture in, feeling the cool tile beneath your bare feet as you make your way to the large mirror. You’re startled by your reflection, scanning over the vast collection of hickies and love marks that are scattered across your skin in an array of shapes, sizes and colors. Spreading the bruised flesh with your fingertips to gauge the damage, you can’t even begin to map out which ones are left by Josh and where Jake’s begin. 
Josh enters the bathroom a few seconds later, and your eyes are instantly drawn to his image in the mirror. He’s clearly comfortable with his own nakedness, shuffling behind you, still-half hard as he rummages around the drawer in search of the spare toothbrush. You turn away, blushing awkwardly at the sight, even though you just had him in your mouth minutes ago. Something about the action felt rather domestic for only knowing him for such a short amount of time. 
He offers a basic, standard-issue toothbrush he pulled from the torn plastic packaging. Plucking it from his fingers, you let the sarcastic comment slip, “A stash of toothbrushes for all your guests?” 
Your criticism comes out harsher than you intend, causing him to take a step back in order to look you over. He tilts his head, showing the genuine confusion pulling his brows together. He takes a few seconds to process your words until a special glint shines in his amber-colored eyes. “Am I hearing a hint of jealousy on your tongue?” 
Was it?
Your mouth falls open to reply, but before you can utter a single word, he takes a step forward with open arms, interrupting your thoughts. “Here, let me take care of that for you.” 
He takes your face, holding it between his hands to plant a kiss directly on your mouth, but you fight back by wriggling away, working to dodge the attempts to lock lips. You throw your head back, squealing in protest, “Josh!”
Giggles burst through his chest as he tries shushing you, “Shhh…I think a kiss will make it all better.” His lips connect with your cheek, causing his words to mumble into the flesh, “I’ve been so so good. I think I deserve it, baby.”
With his hands weaving into your hair at the nape of your neck, you groan from the temptation, but stay steadfast in your choice to wait, huffing through a dry laugh, “I literally just had your cum in my mouth. Let me brush first.”
He nips at the apple of your cheek, savoring its sweetness with a teasing lick. “I love when you talk dirty to me.” Pulling away a few inches, he gives himself enough space for his eyes to drift down to your lips. With his naked body wrapping around yours, you’re able to feel the warmth of him pressing into your hip. “Also bold of you to assume I don’t enjoy that sort of thing.”
You hide the blush creeping up to your face with a playful shove to his chest and laughter loud enough to wake up Jake, “Oh my god! You’re fucking gross.”
Josh flashes a cheeky grin as he releases you. “Yeah, well, I think you secretly like that about me.” 
“Bold of you to assume that I like you at all. I could be in it just for the perks.” He gives you the side eye as takes an electric toothbrush from its charging dock on the counter — one that's white and sleek in design. Although, the only response he gives you is a bout of throaty laughter while he swipes a line of toothpaste across the bristles before handing the tube over. 
He pops it into his mouth, mumbling around the brush stuck in the side of his cheek, “You have a funny way of showing your indifference.” The comment is sealed with a wink, and he turns away from you toward the shower. 
You copy his actions, brushing your teeth while watching him pull a stack of bath towels out from the cabinet. He breaks away to spit into the other basin before turning on the water inside the shower. It takes incredible effort for you not to giggle at the lovely view of his little butt jiggling as he moves around the bathroom. 
After placing the toothbrush back into its designated spot, he hops into the shower while you’re preoccupied with rinsing. You finish up, pull open the door to see his back facing you as he stands under the far-side showerhead. “Without me? Now I’m offended.”
His laughter bounces around the slate-toned tile, “I was getting cold, and things shrivel, okay?” He looks over his shoulder, squinting from the water rolling over his face. “Can't let you see me in such a vulnerable state.” 
You walk into the soothing heat of the water, making your way over to him. Slipping your arms around his waist, and using a particularly flirty voice, you tease into his exposed ear, “Oh no. We can’t dent that giant ego of yours, can we?” 
He hums, sending the thrumming sound into your chest, and takes your hand in his. He pulls it across his cock, making you feel the weight and size of him stiffening along your fingers. “You think my ego is dented, baby?” 
He turns within your embrace to face you, and without another second of hesitation, crashes his lips into yours. He’s quick to lick into your mouth, making you realize that waiting the few extra minutes to kiss you has created an insatiable hunger within him. You find yourself chasing the cool metal of his jewelry as his tongue dances across yours — its existence acting as an ill-kept secret he chooses to reveal in the most opportune moments.
You could kiss him for hours, exploring each other under the falling water and rising steam of the shower. You’re not even sure how much time has passed when the sound of knuckles rapping against the glass startles you from the daydream, making both of you turn your heads to find the source. 
The fogged door to the shower opens, and he instantly grumbles in frustration, “Are you fucking kidding me? We’re having a moment here, dude.”
You peer over your shoulder to see Jake stepping in completely nude. Unbothered by Josh’s annoyance, he chuckles, “And let you two hog all the hot water? I don’t think so.”
Josh releases his arms around you, albeit reluctantly, so you can turn around to face his brother. You watch as he stands under the opposite shower-head, tipping his head back to let the spray wet his long hair. The water running over their tattooed skin resembles an artist’s coating of glossy varnish brushed across an oil painting. Whereas the vibrant colors on Josh’s body are deeply saturated, popping in vibrancy against the golden-tone of his skin, Jake’s black and gray work has the appearance as though the art has been dipped in fresh ink. 
You’re staring. 
You know you are, but you can’t stop your wandering eyes from exploring the details of his naked body in front of you if your life depended on it. You can see the silver hoops of his ears now that his soaked hair clings to his neck and shoulders. Rivers of hot water have been created, flowing down the contours of his chest, pouring down his torso like a waterfall. It carries your eyes down past his navel and between his legs, causing the bubbling feeling to rise inside you. 
Aside from the obvious distraction that’s leaving you bashful, you’re able to admire the unveiled tattoos on his thighs now that they are bare and in your view. His right showcases the portrait of a beautiful mermaid, graced with cascading waves of floating hair, supple, perked breasts that are wrapped in a blanket of fanned fins. The left reveals a more violent scene, depicting a massive, brooding pirate ship that’s split in two by the Kraken, pulled into the depths of the ocean. The sea creature’s long tentacles swirl around in different directions, wrapping around the lean muscles of his upper leg. 
Jake rolls his head forward, causing the water to run down the sharp planes of his face, coaxing you with an open hand. You take his fingers without question, letting him tug you forward in such a swift movement that your chest collides with his. He chuckles, then speaks in his lowest voice against your cheek, one that’s still loud enough for you to hear over the running water, “I was a little sad to see that my little dove had flown to another bed this morning.”
Josh’s hand, now slick with soap, slips down the center of your spine when he throws a prodding remark over your shoulder to his twin, “I think it’s quite obvious that I’m clearly her favorite.”
Jake hums in disappointment, and pulls away to look at you with a raised brow., “Is that true?” 
Not only are you put on the spot with the question, but Josh is making it nearly impossible for you to concentrate with his hands lathering soap across your back in massaging circles. 
Jake clicks his tongue as he watches his own hand snake up your throat, making you suck in a sharp breath as his fingers press into the pulse point. Beads of water ricochet off his face and onto yours when he breathes across your parted mouth, “I’m curious as to why I didn’t hear you this morning.”
His wet lips ghost across your jaw until they eventually touch your ear, taunting you with a satisfying purr, “Because if you were my bed, I would have fucked you until you were screaming my name for him to hear.” 
Confident in how he’s left you speechless, he suddenly breaks his hold on you to reach for the bottle of shampoo sitting on the shower ledge, gifting you with a knowing smirk as he does so. As you stand here in shock, he’s more than aware that he’s teasing you with the mundane action, making sure to take his time squirting the soap into the palm of his hand and massaging it into his scalp as if you aren’t standing right in front of him. 
You extend your open hand until it touches his silken chest, feeling his relaxed breathing beneath your palm. Jake’s eyes remain closed as his head stays tipped back, but you still catch the harsh swallow in his throat in response. Your fingertips follow the flow of the water until his stomach shudders from you tickling across his navel. While his expressionless face keeps up the act of nonchalance, the twitch and bounce of his hardening cock gives him away. 
Meanwhile, Josh’s hands have slipped around your hips and up the front of your body. Fingers splay out, gliding across the soap foam to feel across the delicate softness of your belly. He eliminates the inches of distance, hooking his chin over your shoulder to bring you together so his chest connects with your back. His left hand floats across the rich lather he’s created, cupping your breast with a firm squeeze, while the right slides its way up your sternum to wrap around your throat. 
The gasp you release evolves into a deep moan from the feeling of his fingers pressing into you just as Jake had done moments before — yet it’s seemingly different. There’s a certain neediness to Josh’s touch around the vulnerable spot, as if worshiping you every moment he was given, forgoing any sense of possessiveness his brother might have. 
The high-pressure of the running water massages across your back from his side’s shower head, bouncing off naked skin to cover the shower door like a wall of rain. You watch the heavy droplets trickle down, merging together along the pane of glass until the sharp sensation of Josh’s teeth dragging across your shoulder yanks your focus away. 
Your hips roll against him, grinding against his erection that’s been pressing into your ass for the last few minutes. He hums in approval, tightening his hold around your body that much more. You melt into the embrace, as if the hot steam billowing up from the floor has fused you to him. The diluted suds of Jake’s shampoo are starting to run down in waves over his body as he rinses his hair. You trace a solitary index finger from the base, along his growing length, and to the tip of his cock, causing a smirk to break through his stoic face. 
You jump on the chance to tease him in this fleeting lapse of his control by loosely wrapping your fingers around him. The temperature of the water doesn’t mask your ability to feel his warmth as he hardens in your grasp. You study the way he slowly licks across his lips, how his breathing begins to deepen when you start to stroke him — mesmerized watching the artwork decorating his chest as it shifts with the ever-moving canvas of his skin. 
A low groan rumbles within him, loud enough that the sound echoes within the shower walls, and his head falls forward suddenly like a loosened hinge. He has to brace himself by placing an open hand to the shower wall, but hasn’t opened his eyes to look at you just yet. The washed hair that he has slicked to the back of his head has fallen free in long tendrils, framing his face. With the water no longer flowing down his back, it pours from those ends of his hair, the very tip of his nose, the pouted edge of his parted bottom lip and his chin. 
You watch as his dark, defined brows shift as the speed and technique of your hand changes, going from a raised to furrowed state, and back again. Slick with leftover soap, you slip your other hand between his legs to cup the rest of him in the safety of your palm. The careful rub of gentle fingers along the hot skin as you continue stroking him causes a stifled moan to escape his open mouth. 
He huffs a breathy laugh, shining a devilishly handsome smile while looking up through soaked lashes. “You’re fucking trouble.”
The combination of Jake’s wet cock pulsing wildly in your hand while Josh’s ruts into the small of your back sends a primal need straight to your core. You clench around nothing — only the memory of them between your legs hours ago. As if Josh can feel the impatience coursing through you, his hand leaves its place around your throat, and trails back down through the valley of your breasts, roaming over your curves until he dips between your shaking legs. 
His slender, tattooed fingers part you while sighing into your ear, sending the hummed sound over the folds of your brain, “Fuck, baby. She’s already so swollen and hard for me.” He pauses to bite at your earlobe, rolling his tongue ring over as he sucks it into his mouth before praising, “Pretty little thing.” Another heavy breath rolls into a purr against you, “A greedy one, isn’t she?”
He graces you with an artist’s touch, drawing the pad of his middle finger across your clit in a changing pattern of shapes. You don’t even fight when he attaches his lips to the side of your neck, allowing him to add to the collection of marks he and his brother have left on you. 
Your vision is blurred by steam, hot water, and the blooming cloud of lust circling in your head, but you’re able to see Jake reaching out with his free hand to grasp your chin between his thumb and fingers, guiding himself to you. He kisses you, capturing your wet lips with his own. The heat of his mouth is addicting, a stark contrast from the water that’s already started to chill on your skin. Yet, despite the soothing heat of his tongue, you can taste the mint flavor from his toothpaste lingering in his mouth. 
He sends a moan over your tongue, rolling his hips to chase the friction of your hand pumping around his cock. You do the same, as you’re becoming increasingly more distracted by Josh playing with your clit. 
The sensation of his hot tongue running across your cool, wet skin along your shoulder makes your knees buckle beneath your weight, but thankfully Josh’s hand wrapped underneath your breast keeps you upright. With your head resting on his shoulder, he speaks softly with a crooning voice against your cheek, “Is it getting difficult, baby?” You would respond with something witty, but the thought disappears somewhere in the fog swirling your mind. “Hard for you to think while I’m fucking you with my fingers, huh?
The digits curl with precision, pressing against the special spot hidden inside you, working you while the heel of his palm rubs against your clit. Your eyes clamp shut, and the movements of your hand on Jake begin to stagger in rhythm. An internal battle is waging within your body, fighting the decision whether to stiffen or relax in Josh’s arms. His voice is so low and deep it almost dissipates into beading water hitting the tile. “They feel good?” 
You can only nod your pitiful answer with your face pressing up against his cheek. With a broad lick of his tongue across it, he teases with confidence dripping in his voice. “Sure seems like it with how your pussy’s swallowing them up.” He presses his fingers against the spot with more force, pairing the action with a nip to your ear. “Almost more than you gagging on my cock this morning.” 
A groan tears through your chest and you tighten your fist around Jake, making him stumble forward when your fingertips squeeze around the head. He takes a second to compose himself before giving away that he’s heard his brother by asking him, “Felt fucking amazing, right?”
You might die in embarrassment at the idea of them bonding over your oral skills as if it isn’t for the fact that you’re stuck between them. It should be shameful with how greedy you are, wanting both of them to fill you up for the third time in twenty-four hours. You’re feeling the repercussions, the soreness of your muscles, the lack of proper sleep throughout the night, and most importantly — the dull aching between your thighs. You can’t force yourself to care in the slightest. 
You feel the teeth of Josh’s grin drag across the nape of your neck as he grinds himself against your ass. “I’d say the best I’ve ever had.” 
You’re getting closer to your peak, climbing faster than you could have anticipated. The blanketing heat of your impending orgasm floods between your legs, making the movement of your hand on Jake slow to a stop. You’re lost in the high of lust flowing in your veins, practically riding on Josh’s hand as his fingers pump inside you. You release your hand from Jake to reach back for Josh, making him withdraw his fingers and smack your swollen cunt with an open hand. 
You cry out from the sting and empty feeling you’re suddenly left with, “What the fuck?!”
He hisses in your ear while his fingertip tickles across your clit, making you squirm in his hold. “You thought I was gonna reward you for that?” Jake giggles at your flustered state as he’s busy brushing his thumb across your nipple, but Josh continues, “Don’t be selfish, baby. Be a good girl and don’t take your hand off him again.” 
Jake grabs your wrist in a gentle hold, guiding it to his cock — the inked skull on the back of his hand staring back at you once again. He strokes himself with your hand beneath his, showing you the exact pace and pressure he wants. “Just like that, dove.”
His fingers run along your arm, holding it loosely to brace himself as you work your hand around him once again. He’s watching with every ounce of focus he possesses, and his brows are sewn so tightly together it almost looks as if he’s in pain, grimacing through the ragged panting from his lungs. “Fuck, that’s feels good.”
Josh’s fingers find their place buried deep inside you, picking up exactly where he left off. The soap he used is acting like a lube against your backside, allowing him to glide himself in eager thrusts against your ass. 
Jake tightens his grasp around your arm, stammering out through a pitchy moan thats unfamiliar to you, “I’m..I’m gonna-“
Even through the mess of wet, soap-slicked bodies, all three of you work in unison to find a collective release. Josh is determined to make you finish first, throwing you off the edge into the unforgiving sea of your orgasm. You drench his fingers in your arousal, riding through each undulating wave on his hand. Through the height of your ecstacy, you’ve been pumping your hand faster on Jake, feeling his cock harden and pulse in preparation. Josh retreats his hand from between your legs to grab your hip, pressing the tiny indents into the flesh. Jake loses control and unravels before you, grunting through a final squeeze of your fingers across the head of his cock. He drives himself back into your hand, shooting his cum into your stomach, rewarding you with its heat before it washes away down your body. 
Josh is only seconds behind, jerking himself with frenzied pumps as his other hand digs into your side. His knuckles hit your skin with each pass, giving away just how desperate he is at this moment. A string of hushed curses through strained panting flutters across your back as he paints you. You arch into the feeling, connecting the back of your head to his brow. No one dares to move for a minute, locked in a trance as the streams of water fall around you. Josh swipes his fingers through the cum he’s left across your asscheek, admiring his work before it's lost forever. 
Jake is the one to break the silence once he finds a clearer state of consciousness, “Josh?”
Straightening himself from his crouched position against you, he responds with a cracked voice, “Yeah?”
Jake shifts his weight on his legs, and reaches for the bottle of conditioner on the ledge. “Weren’t you supposed to open the shop this morning?”
“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuck!” Josh curses loudly and stumbles away from you in a panic, nearly slipping on the tile before grabbing the shower door handle. He whips his head back to look at you, revealing the new guilt and stress masking over his features. He leans in and places a chaste kiss to your lips before apologizing, “I’m so fucking sorry I gotta run, baby. Talk later?” 
“S-sure,” you mumble against his lips, clearly still trapped in this daze. He kisses you again, giving into the urge to lick across your bottom lip. 
Before you can convince him to forget all his responsibilities again, Jake scolds him with a forceful shove to his chest to break the two of you apart, “Go, you fucking idiot!”
Josh doesn’t even argue, and stumbles out of the shower, causing a rush of cold air to sting your bare flesh. Jake rushes to close it and take you into his arms without his brother’s presence stopping him. The view through the glass is obstructed with steam, but you can hear Josh fumbling in the bathroom for a minute, then the sounds of his feet hitting the wood floor when he runs into his bedroom. 
Jake kisses you gently, peppering your jawline with the touch of his lips until they brush the shell of your ear. The sound of his voice is affectionate, even with the lingering notes of his desire, “Now let’s take care of that tattoo before I can enjoy you all to myself.”
TAGLIST:
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mirai-e-jump · 9 months
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TV Guide & TV Station Magazine (Kansai Editions) ft. King-Ohger Cast Interviews for Adventure Heaven (translation below, spoilers)
TV Guide: Half movie talk (beginning), half fun free talk (second half)
TV Station: All movie talk . . . _
TV Guide (page 38-39)
Sakai: The film has wonderful guests such as Shido Nakamura-san and voice actress Ayane Sakura-san. The interaction with them left a deep impression on me.
Watanabe: There's a scene where Gira (Sakai) fights with Reiniol, who is played by Shido-san.
Sakai: There's also a scene where it looked like they were performing tsubazeriai (crossing swords and getting in each others faces).
🕷️Ikeda: Was it really intense when you faced each other?
Sakai: It was too intense! The atmosphere created the moment the cameras started rolling was beyond overwhelming, and it almost felt like I was being "swallowed up." I thought I was going all out, but I guess I wasn't. When we decided to do one more take, Shido-san said, "Come on!" He was very enthusiastic.
All: Whoa~!
Sakai: It feels like I'm only half joking, but he created an atmosphere that said, "Come at me again," I was able to give it everything I had.
Murakami: During the filming of Gira's coronation, I had an opportunity to talk with Sakura-san, who played Devonica. We all had the chance to talk with her and noticed she has a really nice voice.
Hirakawa: It almost resonates.
Murakami: We learned a lot about voices. She performed various voice patterns in front of me, such as low, high, resonant, straight, and a voice with an emotional range. It's an experience that only you can only see in this film.
🐝Kaku: Like the TV series, the CG in this film is amazing. We were surprised to see such original backgrounds, which are even more beautiful and fantastic than those in the TV series. As we watched it on the monitor we were amazed while going, "Oooh." I hope everyone can experience the scale of this film at the theater.
Hirakawa: I think the story is enjoyable, and contains a strong message.
🕷️Ikeda: I would like to encourage you all to see it on the big screen, as I'm sure you'll be impressed by how it evolves from the TV series in so many ways.
Sakai: It's been about half a year since the TV series started filming, and everyone in the cast is naturally getting closer to each other.
🐝Kaku: (to Murakami) You've been making alot of funny faces recently, right?
Murakami: Eeeh? you noticed?!
🕷️Ikeda: When you're tired right? (laughs).
Murakami: Mainly when I start my "engine," or when I'm sleepwalking. Sometimes it seems as if I'm not listening to what others are saying. The other day, Aoto-kun was holding a bottle of water and saying something weird like, "If you want this water, you have to pay 1,000 yen."
Watanabe: If you cut that just that part out, it sounds like a totally unfunny joke! (laughs)
Hirakawa: I'll start from the very beginning (laughs). Aoto-kun walked along a muddy road in the heat to get water for the film site.
🐝Kaku: It took about 20 minuets.
Hirakawa: That's why he jokingly said, "1 bottle is 1,000 yen."
Murakami: But I had just woken up from sleeping and was still feeling abit fuzzy, so I accepted what he said with as normal with a, "Thank you," while making no comments (laughs). If I were my normal self, I would've been more careful and said something. But in this worksite, you can be relaxed without worrying about anything.
Sakai: Lately, you've even started to make yourself laugh (laughs).
Murakami: I was able to train myself, since everyone is so good at boke-tsukkomi (double act)
🐝Kaku: My arms, are up (banzai) (laughs).
Hirakawa: It's about relationship trust. You can go big, because I think everyone will pick up on it.
Sakai: That's right. If you say something, someone will surely pick up on it.
Murakami: Thank you.
Sakai: Finally, which of the 5 countries in the story would you rather live in?
Murakami: I'd want to live in the country of Toufu, where Kaguragi (Kaku) is a Lord. I think it'd be really fun being one of the his citizens, because it's full of hospitality and delicious foods.
🐝Kaku: If there's filming in Toufu, rice is always served.
Hirakawa: Their rice is very tasty. I'd like to live in the country of N'Kosopa, where Yanma (Watanabe) is King, and I'd enjoy my life relying on technology. I want to leave everything to the machines and say, "Take care of me."
Watanabe: Although it's not depicted, I've always thought that there's a sauna in the country of Gokkan, where Rita (Hirakawa) is the King. That's why I want to go to Gokkan, for the sauna.
Hirakawa: If I ordered it, they might make one, but it's too cold to bathe in the open air of Gokkan (laughs).
Watanabe: I see (laughs).
🐝Kaku: For me it's Queen Hymeno's (Murakami) country of Ishabana. If I have an injury on my knee or shoulder and I want it to be healed, it'd be easy to do so.
Sakai: I think I could become macho.
🐝Kaku: Yes, yes. I'm sure you're doing a lot of health research on that.
Sakai: I'm not…
🐝Kaku: Say Toufu.
Sakai: Maybe Ishabana…
🐝Kaku: Why not?! (laughs)
Sakai: Maybe it is Toufu. I like the country side feel of the place! It's like there's nothing there…
🐝Kaku: "Nothing." That's a bit harsh, isn't it? (laughs)
Sakai: I'm joking, I'm joking (laughs)
🕷️Ikeda: For me it's N'Kosopa. I want to play games with Yanma and win.
Watanabe: Oooh~ sounds good!
Hirakawa: Well, It's a tie (laughs).
🕷️Ikeda: Shugoddam isn't popular, huh…(laughs).
Murakami: Shugoddam is a country full of small happiness, but many forms of it.
Watanabe: But, if I were to bring my camera, I would take it to Shugoddam. The architecture there is beautiful.
🕷️Ikeda: It's a European-styled town…and what do you mean "if you bring a camera?" (laughs)
Sakai: The question was "if you want to live there." (laughs)
_
TV Station Magazine (page 96-97)
"Bonds of the Young Kings"
Sakai: The first film for Ohsama Sentai King-Ohger will be released, and when I first read its script, I was very excited to see how the coronation of Gira would turn out, and thought alot about how I would act out his responsibility as king.
Watanabe: When I read the script for the confrontation scene in the film's climax between Gira and Reiniol (Shido Nakamura), the first King of the Kingdom of Death, It made me remember my audition. At that time, I was asked to watch a confrontation scene between Gira and Racules (Masato Yano), and Gira truly looked as though he was shining. As for myself, between the two of them, I was more influenced by Reiniol's way of thinking this time, but even still, I want the children to see Gira succeed.
Murakami: There were multiple scenes in the film where I thought I saw a new side out of all six of us. I wasn't sure how the scene where Hymeno meets her parents in the Kingdom of Death would be executed, so I prepared myself alittle for that part before we started filming.
Hirakawa: I was curious how we would film Gira's coronation and, on a personal level, how we would express a side of Rita that they had not shown before in the TV series. I was looking forward to it, but was also a little worried about possibly ruining what I had established so far.
🐝Kaku: I was very excited about the whole story, including the development of Gira's determination to become king despite hesitating. There are scenes where Kaguragi touches on his past mistakes, and It makes me understand what kind of mindset he had when he became king, so I can't wait to see how it plays out in the film.
🕷️Ikeda: I was honestly impressed by Gira's words. Going to the Kingdom of Death made me think a lot about the meaning of my life and, "what does happiness mean?" I think you'll be able to realize it, that even the smallest of happiness is such a wonderful thing.
Murakami: Between takes, I had a chance to talk with Ayane Sakura-san (Devonica), and she showed me how she does her voice in various patterns while right in front of me. It was a unique experience that can only be seen in this film.
🐝Kaku: The whole film was shot with green screen, but the backgrounds of the world were more magical than those found in the TV series. I was truly impressed by how beautiful the CG was.
Sakai: I think it was the scene where Shido-san and I are fighting. I wanted to go all out, but I guess I was alittle nervous, and the scene lacked some impact. When they decided to shoot the scene one more time, Shido-san said, "Come on!" he was very encouraging and created an atmosphere of excitement. Thanks to him, I was able to give it my all.
🕷️Ikeda: The cost of Gira's coronation has become a hot topic for some time. It's really cool, isn't it? It seems to be one of the main points this time.
Sakai: I also thought it was cool.
🐝Kaku: Also, the fight scene at the end is cool. Saying famous quotes before battle.
🕷️Ikeda: I think the film shows off everyone's good sides, such as how a king is supposed to act.
Watanabe: The part where each king confronts their past, Hymeno's scene had additional dialogue at the end, didn't it?
Murakami: I added the lines.
Watanabe: That part was really well done. I personally thought it was cool.
Murakami: I didn't know how it was going to turn out, and I was also worried about it, so…thank you (laughs).
Hirakawa: Gira, Yamma, and Rita perform actions in their pre-transformation stage. We worked hard on it, and I think it came out looking cool.
Murakami: I also really like the way in which Kaguragi confronts the past Queen.
🐝Kaku: Thank you. The scene with Yanma and Shiokara (Chiwata Yuhei) is also interesting.
Watanabe: Gira is both very straightforward and cool, so I hope that children will think, "I want to be like Gira too." With that, I hope you'll come to the movie theater with your family to see it.
Murakami: Each line has its own message, and feels like it has weight to it, so I would be happy if you could feel them as well.
Hirakawa: I think the message is very strong as the kings face their past. The story is also connected to the TV series, so I hope that you;ll enjoy.
🐝Kaku: The production of the film is different from that of TV series, so I'm sure that when people see the film, they'll think, "King-Ohger looks very interesting."
🕷️Ikeda: The world view of King-Ohger will evolve further and will definitely impress you when you see it on the big screen, so please come and see it.
Sakai: I would like you to see the determination of each king on the big screen. I'd be very happy if you could come to the theater to see this film, which we put alot of effort into. We look forward to seeing you!
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" A Shade of Blue in Spring's View "
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Summary: The memories of spring long lost forgotten starts to resurface, as you face the last person you least expected.
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The drastic way of how fate plays its game full of twists and dreams that shattered along the way.
The endless nights filled with sleepless nights, wondering where I went wrong and the what ifs as the scenario plays again in my head, like a cascade on repeat.
Choosing a path as I gamble away what is right and what is wrong, follow the rules or break the rules, be selfish or self-righteous, be the hero or be the villain.
No one really knows, but maybe in this lifetime... I'll play the role as the antagonist.
And yet, that antagonist finally meets it doom.
Crimson red flowing like the river Nile, where death upon in me is near.
Before I meet the man of death, my life flashed before my eyes. Out of all memories, it had to be Spring. The spring that changed the course of my life. The memories of spring where I was at the peak of my youth.
The spring where I experienced being a young man enjoying life to the fullest. The spring that tainted my thoughts and changed my ideals of the world. The spring where I bloomed and discovered my reason and purpose. Lastly, the spring where I found love and crushed "him" like a withered daffodil. As cliche as it is, similar to a boring romcom where the main characters run into each other's arms, embracing themselves in joy and love. I, too, was faced by the man whom I swore to death.
"You're late, Satoru." Said I, in a tone lingering like honey as I have always been when interacting with the man. Even near death doors, I will forever be gentle with my words whenever I am near him. As I lean on the wall while facing the man for the last time. Those eyes as I can recall were full of love once, and now it's filled with nothingness, no, my eyes must be fooling me. Those blue eyes that many detest, but I found solace in it says otherwise: regret.
"Suguru." The albino haired man called my name in a tone that is thicker than ice. Satoru Gojo is his name, a special grade sorcerer for having the "Six-eyes," many envy him for inheriting such technique as well as being the strongest sorcerer. But for him, he finds it a curse.
People say Satoru is special for it, but... does a technique really matter to be special? Well, maybe in the world we are in. However, Satoru Gojo is special indeed, special to the point seeing him in so much pain that only I can see.
Finally, he dropped the question that I merely chuckle.
"Any last words?" Satoru Gojo asked me, before we part ways.
"No matter what anyone says, I hate those monkeys. But I never held any hatred for those in Jujutsu High." I tell him honestly, "I just couldn't wear a heartfelt smile in this world."
It is the truth, after seeing my peers die for the sake of others as they slowly line up in death's doors, I could not bare that thought.
"Suguru." Surprised by how soft his voice was in this situation, brings me back to the spring nights laying on the same bed, staring at the ceiling whispering sweet nothings.
I stare at him wide eyes at his confession, A weak smile appeared on my lips and with my last breath, "At least hit me with some curses at my end."
We finally bid farewell to one another.
At some moments, maybe I cursed myself for having regrets choosing this path for myself.
I admit, I was envy of him once.
But I set it aside and played my own cards to win instead.
Nevertheless, maybe this path of ours is different and fate is too cruel for us to be together.
Just maybe, just maybe... The situation is different and a sign that we are not meant to be together.
After all, love is the cruelest curse of them all.
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Mori's notes: Hello! This is my first time writing fanfiction in a while and I hope everyone likes it at least.
The dialogues are replicated as it is in the movie to give it more detail and the feels.
But, the rest are all mine and please don't plagiarism nor steal my words.
I appreciate some feedbacks, likes, and reblogs (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠)
Lovely dividers from @fawndollie do check her out!
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legoiscrying · 10 months
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Since you guys liked my first k2 analysis so much, I've decided to make a second one and mainly focus on things that I mentioned in the last paragraph there: how I see their romantic relationship. This is probably going to be more headcanons than analysis but we'll see lol (it ended up not)
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As I mentioned before, I don't really see k2 having some sort of special feelings for each other when they're young. Meanwhile it can kinda work with Kenny, it's probably won't work with Kyle: Kyle already has two strong sources of emotions. His bond with Stan and his sort of rivalry with Cartman clearly means more to him. And to get myself more clear: No, I do not erase everything I said in the previous post about their interactions, they're still very sweet and in my personal opinion important. But if we analyse Kyle's relationships with others and give everyone some sort of a status, Stan would be "best friend", Cartman would be "frienemy" (it's not so obvious when I say it like this but we all should agree that Kyle cares a lot about the shit Cartman says, not necessarily in a good way but it's still a huge source of emotions for him). And Kenny, as I believe, would be just "friend". Not much to add.
But if we're looking a little bit further...Time skip for a few years. Or not a few. High-school maybe?? Or adults?? Whatever you prefer more
From this part it'll be mostly headcanons because different people can see the future relationship of the main four differently. I'll talk about my personal point of view here (I think it's the most popular one in the fandom anyways)
So this is where Kyle's previous sources of strong emotions are kind of fading away. With Stan...I'm almost sure that no one is going to argue with me for this. Stan, as a depressed individual, would probably at some point of his adulthood change his relationships with people. He'd cut contact with some and just sort of change his attitude to other. And although I believe Stan and Kyle would still be friends (close friends??) when they grow up...There's not going to be the "bond" as strong as it was before. This is debatable, but even if you don't agree with my statement: One source of strong emotions is definitely not enough.
With Cartman my point of view is much easier to explain: they're not kids anymore. I believe their rivalry won't dissappear, but. They're not kids and not gonna fight 24/7. I'm not sure if I'm explaining this properly, but I think it's just not gonna take all their time. So yeah. It's not enough
AND THAT'S WHERE WE FINALLY GO BACK TO K2. THANK GOD.
Kyle feels a bit more lonely. So he hangs out with Kenny, who pretty much feels the same. They spend time together, talk a lot, remember some things...And realize how similar they are to each other (this part is also analysis btw, I didn't come up with it from nothing). They realize that back then they both were trying to act kind to people around them, but no one seemed to appreciate it as much as they wanted. They were doing it differently and was getting treated differently, but in the end both ended up being lonely without much people around. You. You can feel my thought here. right
They realize how similar they feel, so they decide to try to help each other. Just make some company. It won't hurt, right?
It didn't. I see them a bit fast burn... They start to appreciate each other's company more. And more. They hang out in a lot of different places. Anywhere you can get your old buddy: like seeing some cool movies with him, taking him to restaurants so you can make sure he eats well, sometimes going to his ol' house with him to help his sister...At some point Kenny starts calling it "dates", and Kyle is extremely flustered about this.
Kyle falls first, but Kenny confesses first: so their relationship-thing happens not so long after that.
And yep. This is what I wanted to share from now. I really hope someone reads all that xD
Love k2, appreciate k2, enjoy k2, share k2. They're very lovable little guys!
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(If this gets 100 likes AGAIN I will write k2 headcanons. Go)
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writeforfandoms · 1 year
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Fall Into Me 3
Find the series masterlist
We get to see the beginning of yearning here. It's gonna be good. :)
Warnings: Swearing, Emotions.
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Rose was not going to cry. She refused. For one thing, she was still in the coffee shop. For another, it was completely illogical to cry. It made no sense and it wouldn’t help. 
She just had to get through this last hour and go home. Maybe she’d get some ice cream on the way. Ice cream always helped. 
Of course, it would also be helpful if nobody else came in until closing time, but alas. 
Soap sauntered in, wide grin in place. “Evenin’, bonnie,” he greeted cheerfully. 
“Hi Soap.” Rose smiled, leaning on the counter. “Don’t tell me you’re here for more cookies.”
“Nah, already nabbed the rest of the box.” He winked, enjoying her little giggle. “Grabbin’ coffees for us. Gaz and I are going out.”
“Ah, I see. Enjoying the city nightlife?” 
“You know it.” He winked, flirtatious and over the top. “If you wanted to come, we’d love the company.” 
Rose chuckled, shaking her head. “You’re very sweet, but it’s not my thing.” Too many people. Too many stares. She always felt like someone was judging her when she went out. 
“Got it.” Soap didn’t push for anything more, his smile gone soft. “You got any plans?” 
Which brought the ache in her chest back, through no fault of his. Rose smiled through it, willing it back down. “No. No plans. Figured I’d find a movie to watch, maybe make some headway on the hat I’m knitting.”
“You knit?” Soap leaned forward as if that was the most interesting thing he’d heard all day.
Rose blushed but nodded. Usually people just smiled and nodded when they found out. “Um, yeah. Learned in high school and haven’t really stopped since. It’s fun.” 
“When you finish the hat, you should bring it in and show it off. I’d love to see.” 
“If I finish it in time, I will.” Rose smiled, willing her blush to go away. “So, what can I get you?”
“Two mochas with an extra shot in each.” 
Rose nodded and turned to start on the drinks. Mochas were easy, at least. The motions were all routine by now. 
“No Carmen today?” 
The question made Rose grimace, just a little, and she was grateful she was facing away from him. “No, she’s out sick today.” 
“You need any help?” 
“Oh, I’m fine.” Rose smiled over her shoulder. “Only got an hour left, anyway.”
Soap made a little noise of assent, although it sounded like he didn’t quite believe her. 
“Two mochas with an extra shot.” Rose set the cups down carefully in front of him. “I hope you two have fun tonight.” 
“We will, hen.” Soap picked them up and winked at her. “Enjoy your knitting! Don’t forget I wanna see it.”
Rose chuckled and waved him off, watching him go. She waited until he was in the elevator to slump a little. 
Alright, she’d been right: having all these sexy men around was trouble. They were a daily reminder of her own singleness. She wrinkled her nose. Not that it was their fault. But she was lonely and had been for a while, and they were nice. More fun than the other people in the building, more likely to chat and joke with her. 
But she enjoyed the interaction too much to give it up. She’d just have to make sure none of them ever got the faintest whiff of her interest. 
Closing was easy but slow - Rose just couldn’t muster the energy to do it with her normal speed, not today. She locked up and stowed her keys in her purse, yawning briefly. 
“Heading home?”
Rose jumped several inches, though she didn’t make a noise. She whirled, too fast, and nearly fell.
Alejandro caught her, one hand under her elbow, looking apologetic. “Ah, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Rose blew out a breath, trying to smile and shaking her head. “It’s okay. I didn’t hear you come up, is all.” 
He frowned a little, giving her a quick once over, but thankfully he let it pass. “You are done for the day?” 
“Yeah. You?” Rose took a half-step back, and his hand fell away from her skin. She’d wanted to lean into that touch too much. That way lay danger. 
“Mm. Food first, then home.” He smiled a little. “Do you have far to walk?”
“Not too far, no. Fortunately.” Rose lifted one hand to cover her mouth when she yawned again. “I should get going, though. Have a good weekend, Alejandro.”
“You too.” Alejandro held the building door open for her, and Rose nodded to him before she turned and headed home. 
She did, at least, remember to stop by the corner store and pick up ice cream before she walked up to her apartment. The building wasn’t bad, not too old but not so new it was expensive as all get-out. The higher floors had bigger apartments, but hers was… kind of tiny. 
The open floor plan didn’t bother her - her bed had been pushed back into the far corner, a curtain set up to help block out the rest of the room and any residual light. The kitchen area was spotless, her plants nestled in the window in front of the sink. The rest of the space was taken up by the couch, coffee table, and end table that doubled as a TV stand. 
It wasn’t much, but it was hers, and she didn’t have to share. 
“Home again, home again,” she muttered to herself, kicking off her shoes and hanging up her purse and jacket on the hooks by the door. The ice cream went straight into the freezer for now while she debated if she would be a semi-responsible adult and have real food first. 
Responsibility won out. Turning on the TV for background noise, Rose made pasta. 
And if she kept thinking about the handsome work-neighbors, well… She’d take it easy on herself, after the day she’d had. 
A quick look at her phone showed no further messages from her two friends beyond the “Have to cancel tonight, sorry!” Trying to quell the frustration and bitterness, Rose stuffed her phone away again.
Time for some knitting therapy and sci-fi. 
Her alarm went off far too early, and Rose groaned into her pillow. Barely awake and she wanted to cry. Not a good look for the weekend. 
But she got up. She dressed. She made it down to the coffee shop in time to open. And she smiled. All day. 
Because there was no alternative. It had to be done, so she’d do it. 
It had been a while since she’d had to work weekends, and she was remembering why she tried so hard to avoid it. 
Monday barely felt any different, except that she saw her regulars in the morning. Jerry got his usual, Kathleen switched things up, Conner actually made it in before 9. The ebb and flow was almost soothing by now, helping her to fall back into the rhythm of the week. 
Until Gaz. 
“Mornin’,” he chirped, looking bright and refreshed. Rose felt grungy in comparison (even though she’d showered last night). 
“Morning, Gaz. What can I get you?” She smiled, trying to keep herself on the polite end of warm. 
“Just tea.” He wandered up to the counter, laptop in hand.
“You planning to hang out?” Rose asked, glancing meaningfully at the laptop before she got down the tea. 
“Mmhm.”
“Go ahead and pick a table, I’ll bring your tea over in a moment.”
“Thanks, love. You’re too sweet.” 
Rose didn’t turn to look at him, focusing on her work. It didn’t matter that he’d called her love. He didn’t mean it. It was just a cute thing he did. 
But damn if it wasn’t getting to her. She needed more sleep. And a night with friends. And maybe a glass of wine. 
Rose took a deep breath. Then another. The rising scent of earl grey was soothing, and she left the tea down to make herself a cup. 
“Here you are.” She lifted the portion of the counter to walk over to his table, setting the tea and the sugar next to him. 
“Thank you.” Gaz smiled and caught her hand gently. “You alright?”
“Didn’t sleep well.” Rose shrugged in a “what can you do?” kind of way. “It’s fine. Let me know when you’re ready for a refill, I’ll be here all day.”
He chuckled quietly at her little joke and released her. Rose tried not to think of how warm his hand had been, how nice even that little bit of contact felt. 
She failed. But she did make tea. 
“Soap mentioned you knit?”
Rose blinked a couple times, having completely zoned out behind the counter, and looked over at Gaz. “He… did?” 
“Mmhm.” His smile was small but warm. “Made me curious, too.”
Rose snorted. “It’s hardly rocket science,” she said, waving one hand. “It’s not that interesting.”
“Love, we don’t have skills in that kind of area.” He looked almost… remorseful? A little bitter? Something. “None of us are all that great at making things. Except cooking.”
“It’s really not hard.” Rose shrugged, though she was watching him now, noting the interest in his eyes, the way he was trying to turn the conversation away from himself. Again. “But if you’re really curious, I’ll bring some knitting in tomorrow.”
His smile was bright and cheerful and all the convincing Rose really needed.
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vacantcassette · 5 days
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I think the Transformer One trailer is trying to trick us
Ok hear me out-
Recently there has been a trend of big-time trailers subverting audience expectations to keep a big reveal a secret. (Looking at Marvel/Spiderman.) I have to give it to Hasbro first because it looks like there is every single Transformer in this trailer. (People were even spotting Jazz, Mirage, etc. in that wide shot of the team looking down.)
But what stuck out to me was the scene with Soundwave, Starscream, and Shockwave.
Because those three (from my knowledge) don't really interact until they are a part of the Decepticon force. And this is the origin story of Optimus Prime and Megatron.
So what's going on???
My big out-of-the-pond theory is that Soundwave and Shockwave were edited in for the trailer. Hear me out!
Hasbro wants to include all their major hitting characters in the trailer to grab the audience's attention and add a few easter eggs to get everyone looking closer. (A lot of seekers I've noticed.) Okay, a lot of seekers. I counted several. I know that they were in abundance in the G1 show. (I know it was probably budget reasons but still.)
My shot-in-the-dark theory for the main plotline is that this is like a round-up for both of the factions to fight whatever enemy it is. (Quintession???) Orion Pax already has Bumblebee and Elita and will probably meet Prowl and Ratchet. From what we've seen D-16 will meet his three commanders. But not at once like the trailer shows!
I need to get to the point.
Starscream already having a sort of leadership role but it's with the seekers. D-16 and Orion Pax have to convince them to join their side to fight the bad guy and it's possibly a point of contention between the two because, we all know Starscream and violence. (Also there were a lot of shots showing seekers in explosions and my Primus if they reference Vos-)
Soundwave and Shockwave aren't gonna be at Starscream's side, but other seekers. (Please Hasbro I beg give me Skywarp and Thundercracker.) Soundwave and Shockwave will already be teaming up with them or about to team up with them or refusing to team up. (Who cares this post turned into seeker central.)
Or the movie is gonna oversimplify everything and have the three of the high command be there to meet D-16. (Give me strength I hope not.)
TLDR: Soundwave and Shockwave were edited in for the trailer only and Starscream is ruler of the seekers. (And this post is a mess.)
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