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#I know people in public will never assume I’m not a girl when they see me
zreamy · 10 months
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spf 23
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pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader
summary: for as long as you can remember, your summers have been much the same, largely spent in your hometown, relaxing by the local pool. when you get back home this summer, things seem like they'll go the same way, until you get to the pool that is — when did the lifeguard get so hot?
genres: smut, fluff, people that kinda know each other to lovers, summer au, lifeguard au..
warnings: minors dni, MENTIONS OF UNIVERSITY DURING SUMMER, sunghoon in water, sunghoon on ice, sunghoon
word count: 31,818 .. even more sorry than last time.
playlist: kiss nct dojaejung, obvious ariana grande, safety net ariana grande
author's note: lmk ur thoughts (positive / negative / sunghoon) i'd love to hear. to beta bestie @asahicore u da best MUSIC DJ EMMAAA. i hope u have a good time reading, lord knows this has been a long time coming.. ok enjoy <;333
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It’s the hottest day of the last summer of your life. 
The sun’s rays coat your skin in a film of sticky sweat and sunscreen. Crisp white clouds hang in the sky, drifting overhead. Yunjin complains about the temperature as if you and Chaewon aren’t outside with her.
If you strain your ears over yelling children and raucous laughter, you can just about hear a Top 40 playlist looping Cupid and Dua Lipa songs through age-weakened speakers. What holds your attention the most, though, is the blond by the pool. He leans back on his hands with pretty fingers spread out behind him. He’s been lifeguarding at the public pool for more summers than you care to count but he’d never looked like this while he did it. 
Park Sunghoon seems relaxed as he sits on the pool’s edge, kicking his legs in the water and scanning the space. Presumably watching out for kids drowning, or diving, or.. whatever it is lifeguards get up to at work. His voice is deep as he (half-heartedly) yells at a group of kids with water guns to stop running. When did he get so buff?
He’s always been attractive. Always. But this is outrageous. The bleached hair. The toned arms. The sliver of skin you can see peeking out from under his cropped vest. It’s almost too much to take yet you can’t bring yourself to look away. Given the way he turns his head when you catch his gaze — with flushed cheeks and upturned lips — you assume his glow-up has been purely external. 
“Can you believe this might be the last summer we spend here together? Like, this time next year we’ll be graduates.” Yunjin’s sudden statement makes you wish she’d go back to talking about the weather. 
Chaewon’s jaw drops. “Whoa.”
“Is it bad that I’m looking forward to fall?” Yunjin asks. “No offence, YN.” 
This isn’t the first time she’s shared such a sentiment. Last summer and the one before, she’d said something similar before clarifying. She’s excited about her new classes, not about you going back to your apartment a few towns over.
You’re only looking forward to your shared two-bed and Minjeong’s dinners. It pains you to have to thank university for anything, but thank university for giving you something to miss over the holidays. 
“None taken, YJ, but break just started last week.” 
“Our last finals were five weeks ago.”
“Well, you know break doesn’t really start until our girl gets back.” Chaewon leans up in her seat to grin at you. She raises her cup, the tiny puddle of melted slushy shaking a little. “Here’s to the best summer ever!” 
Needing all the affirmation you can get, you entertain her, raising your own cup so the three of you can toast properly. 
“Cheers!”
The next few hours do nothing to affirm your belief in the effectiveness of toasting. Recently hot Sunghoon hasn’t taken his shirt off yet and you’re not sure how many more times you can beg your friends to stay for another half hour in hopes something will happen that causes him to tear the thing off. At this point you’d settle for a simple conversation or even the word hey.
“I’m begging, like, actually, let’s go.” Yunjin groans, sitting up.
“Just let me pee first,” you grumble, attempting to buy more time as you stand up from your lounge chair, packing up your towel and the magazine you never bothered to look at. 
On your walk to the restroom, you see him leaning in the doorframe of the changing rooms with his toned arms crossed over his chest. Perfect. There’s a smile on your face as you approach him and unexpectedly he speaks before you do. 
"He—" He clears his throat, thick brows coming together as he places a big hand on his chest. "Hey."
You let out a breathy laugh. “You okay?” 
He straightens up his posture and nods his head, blond hair shifting over his forehead from the movement. 
The sounds of the public pool fill the silence stretching over you, though it’s not enough to distract you from the way his eyes trail over your body, landing on your chest as his tongue darts out to wet his lips. 
“I’m Sunghoon,” he eventually introduces, extending a hand for you to shake. 
A smile stretches across your lips when you do, noticing how much bigger his hand is than yours when his fingers wrap around it and cover the whole thing. “I know,” you nod.
“You,” Sunghoon pauses, tilting his head to the side as if considering your words. “Know?” His brows quirk up. 
You hum in response. “We had Spanish together. You sat with.. that kid,” Your hands come up to gesture around your chin and neck. “With the jaw, Jay, was it?” 
He looks at something over your shoulder for a bit while you worry that he didn’t take Spanish and you’ve got the wrong guy, but a laugh rises out of him instead. “Yeah,” he grins. “Jay.” Nods his head.
Despite stuttering his way through the conversation, Sunghoon makes you laugh as he tells you about how he didn’t realise he’d have to swim on the job and almost drowned trying to save a kid in the deep end. He seems more confident after seeing that his story was well received though he still fidgets with his hands, and can’t hold eye contact for more than a second at a time, always looking away and clearing his throat. 
The story was a bit of a ramble, and it might be the most words you’ve ever heard him say all at once before falling quiet, though his pretty lips open and close a few times as if he’s stuck on what to say. “How-” He’s cut off by the sound of someone yelling his name. 
In the pool, a cute (and very tall) kid waving his arms above his head yelling: Quickly! Quickly! makes you laugh, and the way Sunghoon rolls his eyes makes it clear he knows him.
Much to your dismay, the yelling doesn’t stop and you realise you’ll have to make your exit. “I’ll let you get going, but, uh, say hi to Jay for me, okay?” you say, grinning at the way he nods his head, mumbling yeah, of course before you turn around to leave.
Sunghoon’s still standing in the spot you left him in, hands crossed over his chest as he eyes you. Head snapping in the other direction when you look back over your shoulder to call out a: Later, Hoonie, with a wave of your fingers.
Chaewon watches you over her sunglasses with a smirk on her face as you approach. “Who is that?”
You crinkle your nose. “Park Sunghoon.”
At the sound of his name, Yunjin gasps, abruptly sitting up in her chair. “The figure skater?”
“The what?”
At home, you type his name into the search bar and find that the shy boy you’d only met properly some hours ago is something of a celebrity in the skating world. 
You watch YouTube videos of his short programs and feel a swell of pride with each jump he lands. The tiny Sunghoon on the screen carries an air of confidence as he glides across the ice — nothing like the Sunghoon you’d met at the pool today. And definitely nothing like the quiet Sunghoon who’d sit in the back of your 9th grade Spanish class conjugating verbs as his friends got into trouble for talking over the teacher. 
It’s not hard to trip down a rabbit hole, and suddenly every video with his name in the title has a little red bar under the thumbnail as a mark of your affection. It doesn’t take long for you to find Instagram user smartblond, and the blue follow button on his page greets you with the option to follow back, which leaves you feeling a little bad as the pad of your thumb falls onto it unthinkingly. 
Sunghoon’s feed leaves much to be desired. A modest 1 post he’d made 4 years prior, a square photo of himself and Lee Heeseung with bros as the caption. The only comment is from Heeseung who wrote ma boiiii. The tagged photos however tell a different story. 
Thankfully.  
You spend longer than you’d like to admit scrolling through these pictures, grinning and ignoring the way your stomach flips at the sight of the seemingly outgoing boy captured in the pictures posted by his closest friends with wide smiles and middle fingers while trying not to hit like on any of them. Even though you do like them. A lot. Except for the one of him and Bae Sumin at the pool with pretty smiles on their faces, and their arms around each other that she posted 15 weeks ago with the caption lifesaver. A smile spreads on your lips when you see Sumin’s (way more populated) page and the post she made yesterday to celebrate two years with her boyfriend. 
Distraction only reaches you in the form of an alert from your university’s portal app. The words you’ve got new correspondence in your inbox wipe the smile from your face in an instant. While chewing at your lip, you click on the notification and wait for the email to load. 
A pit forms in your stomach while reading four paragraphs offering advice for people who’ve failed their final exams. At the end is a link that you click with squinted eyes. A countdown appears and there are 8 days, 12 hours, 2 minutes and 17 seconds until results are out.
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During your next trip to the pool, you hear Sunghoon before you see him and his voice comes out in a cute whine when he speaks. “Why do you guys only wanna hang out here when I'm working?” 
Looking over your sunglasses, you see him running a hand through his hair, looking up from the water at a group of boys you recognise from both high school and his tagged photos, including the very tall kid who’d cut your conversation short the other day. With a wide grin on his face, he slings a towel over his shoulder and calls out something about the concession stand before running for the changing rooms and ignoring Sunghoon’s cries to stop. 
His back flexes deliciously as he wades around the mostly empty pool, chatting to his friends, and in all of your staring you notice Jay’s eyes on you, looking back to Sunghoon after a while and nodding his head not so subtly in your direction.
You look at Yunjin in the lounge chair next to you, who stares at the remnants of your blue raspberry slushy with disgust on her face, finishing off her cherry-flavoured one. “I said thanks when you came back with them, it’s abnormal to want this much recognition over a £1 purchase,” you say defensively, sighing and thanking her again anyways. 
“You should thank Sunghoon’s giant friend,” she says, nodding in his direction. “He came over to me in the line, asked how I knew you, and gave me change when I told him Chaewon introduced us.” 
“Huh,” you say, taking a refreshing sip, the last, before putting your cup down between your chairs. 
“I don’t understand what you see in that insane flavour.” She leans over to put her now empty cup next to yours. “It’s.. unnatural,” she says, shuddering dramatically. 
“It’s the only flavour I like,” you say simply, watching in your peripheral as your new favourite lifeguard (not that you have an old favourite) climbs over the edge of the pool.
The sight of Sunghoon’s lean figure coming out of the pool only makes you regret ever wanting to see him with his shirt off. Water slips from every part of his body in droplets, running from his broad shoulders down his veiny forearms before falling from his pretty fingers onto the ground. This must be the fittest-looking person you’ve ever seen, and Kazuha can do push-ups (one) with you and Chaewon on her back. 
With his wet hair stuck to his forehead, he laughs at something one of his friends said and it’s only when he looks over at you that you’re able to tear your eyes away. 
You miss the sight as soon as it’s gone. 
“That’s absurd,” Yunjin says after a moment. You have no idea what she’s talking about. “Can I open the Skittles?”
You’d forgotten about those. “Go ahead.” 
While rummaging through your bag, Yunjin tells you quietly that Sunghoon’s coming though you barely have a chance to look at him before his shadow casts over the two of you, stark and vivid. With his arms crossed over his chest, Sunghoon towers over you. His red shorts cling onto his hips, so low you can see every inch of muscle definition spanning his stomach where little beads of water stare you dead in the eye. By the time you manage to look up at his face, he has a huge grin stretched over his pretty lips. “Hey, stalker,” he says.
Though his smile falters when you crease your brows, pulling your sunglasses down your nose. “Stalker?” 
“You, uh,” he pauses to sniff, less sure of himself than earlier. “I saw that you followed me on Instagram last night.” 
“You did? And no DM?” 
No DM, he repeats under his breath, visibly confused, and the—“Ohhhh, you wanted to talk to me?” 
“Yeah, that’s why I followed you.”
“Right.” A nod. “And no DM?” Sunghoon seems to like the way you laugh, uncrossing his arms, and puffing his chest out. “So what did you wanna talk about that just couldn’t wait until you saw me again?” 
“I wanted to catch up.”
A sceptical look crosses his face. “Really? Anything specific you wanted to talk about?” 
“Not really. I just think you’re interesting.”
“Me? Interesting?” The mixture of amusement and surprise on his face makes you laugh. 
“Yes, you, interesting.” A saccharine smile spreads across your lips as you swing your legs over the side of your chair. Sunghoon apologises when your ankle grazes his calf. “Very interesting.” 
Sitting like this, your face is so close to his hips you can see the loose thread at the top of his shorts. He seems to notice, taking a step back. Down the bridge of his nose, he watches you through squinted eyes, furrowing his brow and letting a beat pass. “How so?” 
“There’s a lot of reasons, but, for one, you’re the only figure skater I know.”
So quickly you barely see it, Sunghoon’s lips curl into a frown before he presses them together, nodding. “How’s summer treating you?” He changes the subject. 
You let him. “Pretty good,” you say, bringing a hand up to the tied strap of your swimsuit to pull it to the side. “And I’m tanning pretty well, right, Sunghoon?” 
A massive cloud glides across the sky, casting a welcome shadow over the scorching sun. The transition is gradual but relief is immediate and even Sunghoon sighs. You push your sunglasses up to rest in your hair, taken aback, like always, by how bright it actually is outside. Even with the sun covered up, your eyes sting a little without the tint making you squint up at Sunghoon who watches you with an amused smile. 
“Is there something on my face?” you ask. 
“No, nothing like that.” He shakes his head. “It’s just.. nice catching up with you.”
“Yeah. It is.” You return his smile, liking the way his widens. “So, how’s summer trea—” You’re cut off by the same kid as yesterday, yelling “Sunghoooooooooon!” At the top of his lungs. 
“What were you saying?” 
“Uh,” you start, distracted by the kid pointing at Sunghoon, who waves frantically when he realises he’s caught your eye. “You, uh,” you pause, using a finger to point over to the pool. “I think your friend might need you.” 
He turns to look over his shoulder, the sun shining directly on the side of his face when he does, highlighting the pretty mole on his nose that you’ve somehow never noticed. Sunghoon shakes his head and freezing water splashes onto your stomach, making you flinch. A non-committal sound comes out of his mouth as he shrugs, facing you once again. “It’s just Riki.”
Just Riki doesn’t let up. Instead, he enlists the help of a cute cat-eyed boy, clambering onto his shoulders and balancing precariously as he yells and yells at the top of his lungs. 
“Okay, yeah, I gotta,” Sunghoon sighs, using his thumb to motion towards the pool as he walks backwards away from you. He points a long index finger at you before turning around. “I’m coming back,” he says. 
With a huge splash, Riki falls from his friend’s shoulders unceremoniously, his form disappearing for a moment, replaced by a mess of bubbles and long frantic limbs until he resurfaces. 
“I’m not here to play, I’m here to work!” Sunghoon calls out, walking right off the coping and into the water, swimming towards his friends anyway. 
He doesn’t come back. 
That night you stay at Chaewon’s, rifling through old teen magazines and taking quizzes to determine who your ‘celeb bezzie’ is. Answering mostly C’s, the two of you squeal at the prospect of a friendship with Lindsay Lohan. 
Jaehyun’s complaining when you reach the pool and you figure Yunjin and Kazuha must be nearby. Your hunch is correct when you round the corner by the water slide and see the two of them splashing each other in the small pool. He’s standing with his hands on his hips and yelling something about the literal sign that says they can’t be in there right now. The sign is a bright red fold-out thing, saying in bold white letters that the pool is closed for swimming lessons starting at 1:30 p.m. 
“It’s 1:20, you can’t be in here,” Jaehyun groans, raking a hand through his hair. “I know you guys think because we’re friends you can do what you want but the other lifeguards kicked me from the group chat and Sunghoon said it’s all your fault.” 
The mention of Sunghoon makes your ears perk up, and you decide to insert yourself. “What did they do wrong?” 
Jaehyun practically jumps at the sound of your voice next to him and Yunjin calls out for you to get in! “Don’t you dare,” Jaehyun mutters, cutting his eyes. “Whatever it is was bad enough for Mark, Yeri, and Chaeyoung to decide I’m not worthy of LIFESAVERS 2.0 swimming guy emoji, ring float emoji.” 
“If you got kicked because of them, I don’t see why Sunghoon gets to stay.” You tilt your head, stepping back a little when you feel a splash hitting your feet. “His one million-man friend group takes up half of the big pool every day, competing for who can laugh the loudest, and these two are pretty much doing the same thing.” 
“Yes, but Sunghoon’s friends aren’t breaking the rules.” 
“I saw Riki take an ice cream cone from a kid yesterday.”
“That’s not against the rules,” Jaehyun sighs. “And Chaeyoung thinks Sunghoon’s cute, so.” 
“She does?” you ask too quickly. 
“What do you care?” Jaehyun spares you a glance, arching his brow. He seems to undergo some kind of revelation, gasping a little and nodding his head. “So that’s why you guys are here all the time! You totally like that loser.” 
“Sunghoon’s not a loser, he’s hot.”
“Interesting thing to dispute.” 
You roll your eyes. “Do I need to worry about Chaeyoung?” you ask quietly.
“If you’re trying to hook up with Sunghoon I wouldn’t worry about her.”
You hate his response; hate that instead of really answering you, he’s just left you with even more questions. 
And you hate Chaeyoung for falling into your line of sight just as you mention her. 
She leaves the locker room, laughing about something with Yeri, and making you wonder what exactly she wants with Sunghoon. And why she suddenly feels like your competitor.
“And if I’m not?” 
Jaehyun cackles at your suggestion. “You? Not trying to hook up?” 
You can’t come up with a reason for why his words make your chest ache so you shove him with your elbow before jumping into the water with the girls. The sound of Jaehyun groaning and begging you guys to get out of the pool only dissolves the ache and puts a smile on your face.
Yunjin and Kazuha gang up on you for taking so long to join them but the water feels so cool against your skin you can’t help but enjoy it. 
The sound of what you think is Sunghoon’s voice makes you freeze in your spot. “I can’t keep defending you, man,” he sighs. 
At the sound of a whistle blowing, you raise your hands to cover your ears and all three of you whip your heads in its direction. Sunghoon stands next to Jaehyun with a whistle in his mouth, coughing around the metal when he sees you. He smiles, dropping it to rest against his chest. “Oh, hey.” 
“Hi,” you greet, swimming over to the edge of the pool and resting your arms on it, letting your chin find a home against them. Looking up, you see Jaehyun rolling his eyes before walking off in the opposite direction and Sunghoon stares down at you with a smile on his face.
“How are you?” he asks, fidgeting with the whistle like a charm on a necklace. 
“I’m good, how are you?” 
“Good, me too. Uh-your friends,” he pauses, clearing his throat. “I’m teaching lessons here, in five minutes, so I was wondering if you guys could maybe hang out in the main pool or by the slides instead?” he asks. It seems like he’s asking. “Only if you want.” 
“What if we’re here for lessons?” 
“Oh, I’m sorry, you guys must be the six-year-olds I’m teaching this afternoon, my bad for assuming.” 
You can’t tell if he was trying to be funny or if that was just something he said for the sake of saying it, but it makes you smile anyway. “You don’t do lessons for grown-ups?”
Sunghoon shakes his head. “I teach 6 to 12-year-olds, but Mark teaches adult classes on Saturday mornings if you’re interested.”
You nod, lifting yourself out of the pool, dripping water on the concrete. You’re close enough to Sunghoon to clearly see his jaw tensing, and the way his gaze shamelessly falls to your chest for more than a few seconds. 
“What if I’m interested in a one-on-one lesson?” 
Close enough to see the goosebumps that rise on his skin. He licks his lips, holding your gaze. “I guess we could work something out,” he says, clearing his throat when you rest a hand on his wrist, though he doesn’t look away from you. 
It seems like it’s just the two of you and the sun beating against your skin. And his pulse racing against your fingers. 
An excited wail grounds you, brings you back to the pool. “Sunghoonie! Sunghoonie!” You hear over his shoulder, as a tiny girl with pigtails and a huge grin comes rushing over to you. “Look, I got new goggles, look at my new goggles!” 
You take a step back and Sunghoon gasps, holding her Hello Kitty goggles in his hands, inspecting them carefully while crouching down to her level. In his absence, you see more, equally excited, kids plodding along, babbling to each other, followed by parents with small character backpacks slung over their shoulders. 
Sunghoon chats animatedly with her, nodding and gasping and saying really? at all the right times, in a way that summons butterflies. She giggles and holds her belly laughing when he holds her baby sized goggles over his head, asking if he can try them on, and you need to leave before you burst into tears at how sweet he’s being.
Yunjin and Kazuha beam at you when you look over at them, winking dramatically and giving you silent rounds of applause. Your cheeks burn at the sight, mumbling at them to come on, before turning around to walk away. 
“Hey, YN!” Sunghoon calls out, stopping you in your tracks. He’s standing with his arms crossed over his chest, and a small smile on his lips. “See you later, yeah?” 
“Yeah.” You nod. 
The girls have caught up to you by now, Yunjin’s eyebrows waggling suggestively as she links her fingers with yours. “Oh, he is so into you,” Kazuha whispers, wrapping a dripping arm around your shoulders. “Chaewon was right, summer really doesn’t start until you get back.”
In the main pool, you play around with the girls until you’re tired from swimming and the heat, and if it wasn’t for what Sunghoon said, you would have gone home already. You lay back in a lounge chair and close your eyes behind your sunglasses. You could probably fall asleep out here, feeling an odd comfort in the blood-curdling screams and mix of music playing from tiny bluetooth speakers all over the place. 
About five minutes later, you use your fingers to pick out a few pieces of Oreo from Yunjin’s ice cream, deciding they’ll be compensation for having to deal with the sticky dessert trickling down the cone and onto your fingers. Though in this heat, it doesn’t bother you so much.
On your trip back to your seat, you see Heeseung and Sunghoon by the locker room entrance. Standing in the shade, the two of them talk while Sunghoon lets a chunky pair of sunglasses rest on the back of his head, a sight that makes you clench your fist so hard the cone crunches under your fingers. You watch Heeseung’s face split into a grin while he throws his head back laughing, though Sunghoon presses his lips together in a straight line, clearly unimpressed. 
Yunjin jogs over to you, thanking you for the cone and complaining about how stingy Jungwoo’s being with the Oreo pieces these days but taking an appreciative lick anyway, letting her head fall back and a long hum of satisfaction buzz against her lips. “Just go over there and talk to him,” she says after a while. 
“Wow, YJ, thank you. I hadn’t thought of that.” 
She flips you off before walking away.
You don’t mean to catch his eye but he smiles when he sees you, waving when you wave. Heeseung waves too. If Sunghoon had been standing on his own you’d have no problem approaching him, but something about interrupting their conversation puts you off. Heeseung nods at you and calls out your name, inviting you to interrupt them. 
“It’s funny, we were just talking about you,” Heeseung says. You’re not sure how he wants you to respond to that, but Sunghoon looks at him with wide eyes, using his elbow to nudge his oversharing friend. “All good things, of course,” he adds on, raking a hand through his hair. 
“Who could have anything bad to say about you?” Sunghoon asks. 
Out of genuine concern, you ask if they’re okay, which only makes the two of them burst out laughing. Awkward laughter in the form of robotic ha ha has and forced applause. You’re not sure what to make of this, looking back and forth between them with a crease along your brow. High school was probably the last time you talked to Lee Heeseung, but besides the piercings and muscle definition he doesn’t seem to have changed much. 
“How have you been? How’s college?” Heeseung asks after wiping his left eye with the back of his hand. 
“I’ve been good. I saw you graduated last week, congrats!” 
He looks delighted at the mention of his own studies, missing the fact that you’re trying to avoid talking about yours. “Thank you!” he says, beaming. “Do you know what classes you’re taking this year?”
“No.” You shake your head. “You studied music, right?” 
An impossibly brighter grin spreads across his lips, eyes shining with genuine happiness as he nods. “Yeah, I majored in production actually. Best thing I ever did.”
For a while, Heeseung talks about his course though most of it goes over your head as jealousy burns in your stomach. The last three years have gone well enough for you to know that you’re more than just good at your major, so why, like him, can’t you enjoy it too? Right now, you want nothing more than for stupid Heeseung to shut up about his stupid career choices. 
Sunghoon interrupts the conversation, seeming to notice your mild irritation. “Hey, are you okay?” he asks, resting a hand on your shoulder.
He doesn’t seem convinced when you nod your head belatedly, clearing your throat. You do your best to focus on the burn of his hand on your skin and not your jealousy. 
Sunghoon looks over at Heeseung, giving him a look that the older boy takes as an invitation to leave, smiling at the both of you before waving goodbye. 
“What’s the matter?” His voice is much softer now that you’re alone, so comforting that you’re tempted to fall into his chest and tell him everything that’s ever upset you.
“What makes you think something’s the matter?”
“You were staring at Heeseung like you wanted to wipe the stupid smile off his face with a bullet.”  
“Actually, I think he has quite a nice smile,” you admit.
“Yeah,” Sunghoon agrees. “But it’s a little annoying, right? Like how everything just seems to go so well for him no matter what. Perfect guy with a perfect major, it’s a little hard not to be jealous of him when he talks like that.” 
“You don’t like what you study?” 
“It’s not my major I’m struggling with.” He lets out a dry laugh. “What about you?” 
A deep sigh rolls out of you, pulling your shoulders down. “I’m good at it so why stop, you know?” 
“Plenty of people stop things they’re good at.” The response comes quicker than you expect, in a defensive tone that makes you want to slice open his brain and take a look inside. “Sorry, I just mean if something isn’t making you happy, then it’s okay to stop. Right?” 
It doesn’t feel like he’s talking about you. “Right,” you affirm anyway. “It’s just that I only have a year left so the way I see it, I should just deal with it, graduate, and worry next summer instead. Uni sorta freaks me out is all,” you explain, shrugging in a way that you hope looks nonchalant. “I don’t like my course, and I don’t like talking about it, so let’s not talk about it.”
Sunghoon nods. “No talking about uni, got it,” he says, holding an imaginary pen and making a note of your words in the palm of his hand, with a tiny smile on his face that makes your stomach twist. “So, what do you like talking about?”
“Literally anything else.” 
“Look at us, so much in common.” There’s a hesitant look on his face, like he’s questioning his word choice but he smiles when you do, letting out a breathy laugh at the sound of a chuckle slipping out of you. 
“Hey, Sunghoon?” you ask after a beat, tilting your head and continuing when he hums. “Do you work here every day?” 
He shakes his head. “Just Monday through Thursday.”
“So, if I wanna see you, I could just come to the pool on those days?” 
“Yeah.” Even in the shade, it’s hard to miss the way his cheeks flush pink, and he scratches at the back of his neck while stifling a smile. “Exactly.” 
“And if it’s Friday or the weekend, and I wanna see you, I could just text you?” 
“Yeah, I think I’d like that.” That same smile curves on his lips, gentle, happy. 
You think you’d like that too. 
Sunghoon puts his number in your phone and you send a text so he has yours too.
The sun doesn’t set until late that night, and you spend the better part of the evening in the garden with your mum, catching the last moments of the sun’s rays from a blanket in the grass. The sound of her fingers against the keyboard is like a perfect mechanical OST for the summer romance you’re halfway through. Though knowing that the countdown in your email is set to strike zero in a matter of hours makes it difficult to concentrate on what’s going on in the made up beach town you’re reading about.
After a late dinner, you click the link to watch the countdown hit zero before refreshing the page. The stark white background of the login page stings your eyes in your dark room as you wait for the results page to load with a held breath. All three of your course titles are marked with MP for merit pass. A weight falls from your shoulders only to be replaced with another. 
The family group chat doesn’t seem to share your distress. Your dad hearts the message and sends a gif of Michael Scott clapping, your mum texts back that she’s so proud of her baby, and your older brother says KNEW U COULD DO IT! You throw your phone across the room, hiding your face in your pillow to muffle a scream. 
That night, you dream of graduation. Of crossing the stage and seeing the culmination of four long years on a flimsy piece of paper. The ceremony ends and behind closed eyes, you watch yourself sign your life away to a 9-to-5 in a field you hate, the same your brother had done. Drenched in a cold sweat, the nightmare jolts you awake. 
You spend all day in your room for fear of running into your mother and having to discuss your future.
The day after that, the familiar smell of coffee hits your nose as you walk by a cafe you used to frequent in high school, drowning yourself in hot chocolate in the winter and in sweet frozen lemonades in the summertime. If it wasn’t for your plans of seeing Chaewon you might’ve picked something up for nostalgia’s sake. 
Right when you think about her, she calls you. “Bring me a coffee,” Chaewon says. 
“What?” 
“Can you get me some coffee?” 
Looking over your shoulder, you fully expect to see Chaewon standing behind you or perched in one of the bushes across the street with a pair of binoculars. Her voice rings down the phone at you, at a volume you’re sure you would be able to hear if she was watching you from somewhere. “Hello?” 
“Yes, I’ll do it,” you say, ignoring the chill that runs down your spine and hanging up.
A bell rings above your head when you open the door, the cafe greeting you warmly like it always has. You admire its familiar green walls and the organic curves of its interior, from the sweeping archways to the round tables and chairs. Back then, you must have sat in each of them. 
You think you’re going crazy when you hear Sunghoon saying thanks, and you know you’re going crazy when you actually see him leaving the counter with his fingers wrapped around a vibrant orange iced drink. He doesn’t see you, focusing on the phone in his hand and the straw in his mouth, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat with each sip. Sunghoon turns his back to you, walking towards a table in the far corner, his head moving to the beat of whatever song he’s listening to. He sits in the seat facing away from you, and you stare for so long that the barista has to say excuse me to get your attention. 
After apologising, you order Chaewon’s latte, giving her name over to the barista when she asks and waiting off to the side while she makes it. The whole time, you watch Sunghoon, willing him to look over at you. It doesn’t work.
Not in the way you’d been expecting, at least. Your phone vibrates against your palm.
sh: hey yn! are you doing anything nice today?
You grin at the back of his head. 
yn: seeing chaewon later :) hbu
sh: oh cool i hope you guys have fun!
sh: working later.. closing shift :/ 
When it’s ready, you collect Chaewon’s drink and approach Sunghoon’s table. He’s staring at his phone screen, where you see your conversation over his shoulder — even though it’s been five minutes since he texted you — and have to bite back a smile.
“Hey, you.” The words come out like you intended, light, pleased. 
Sunghoon jumps in his seat anyway, slamming his phone face down on the table and looking up at you. “YN,” he breathes. “Hey.” He wipes his palms on his pants. “What are you doing here?” 
“Same as you, I guess,” you grin, raising the cup in your hand. “Can I sit?” 
“Of course.” A beat passes while you take your seat and Sunghoon’s eyes don’t leave you once. 
It’s been a while since you last had a vanilla latte but it’s just as sweet as you remember when you try it, the ice doing a good job at keeping you cool. You tilt your head at the boy in front of you, checking the date on your phone. “It’s Friday today.” 
“Yeah…” Sunghoon squints at you, nodding his head slowly. “Oh, it’s Friday,” he says, seeming to figure out what you were getting at despite the lack of context. “There’s a girl I normally coach on Mondays at the rink, Hyein, but she couldn’t make it this week so we moved her session to this afternoon. To be clear though, I don’t normally work on Fridays. At the rink or otherwise.”
You nod, taking another sip of Chaewon’s coffee and angling the cup so he can’t see her name written on the side of it. 
“So, if you wanted to see me, on a Friday, or over the weekend, you could still text me about that.” 
Smiling, you nod. “Good to know. Do you work Monday to Thursday at the rink as well?” you ask, curiosity getting the better of you.
Sunlight spills through the tiled windows, warming your skin through the glass. Over his shoulder, the bell by the door rings incessantly and under the sun’s rays, flecks of amber glow in his eyes that crinkle at the corners, a dimple peeking at you as he shakes his head.
“I have my own training at 6 on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays, and then I teach kids classes on Monday and Tuesday nights, and I see Hyein on Monday mornings.”
“6 a.m.?”
“No, our sessions start at 10.”
“I mean your training, you start at 6 in the morning?” 
“Oh.” He nods. “Yeah,” he says, shrugging. 
“Fuck, that’s so early, I could never.” 
“I mean, that was just my training block during school. 6 to 7:45, so I’d go to the rink, back home to shower, and go to school when I could.” A beat passes before he speaks again, using his straw to stir his drink. “But that was mainly during, like, off-season. If I had competitions coming up then I’d spend entire days at the rink, or dance class, in the gym, so I missed a lot of school.” 
You nod. “I remember.” 
Sunghoon’s eyes flash with something, as his brows knit together for barely a second. He smiles. “Anyway, I did try later sessions when I started college but I was so used to my early sessions that I’d still wake up at 5 a.m. even though my classes didn’t start until the afternoon.” 
There’s a sparkle in his eyes when you ask about Hyein, and excitement in his voice while he tells you all about her. About how much potential she has, even though she doesn’t seem to realise it; about how much better she’s gotten in the year since they met and how similar she is to him at her age.
After a very slow walk with Sunghoon, you reach Chaewon’s place. It doesn’t hit you that you’re empty-handed until she opens the door and frowns at you, asking where you’ve been and what happened to her coffee.
It starts to feel like you’re running out of friends to take to the pool when, a few days later, the entire girls chat is too busy to come along, and Lee Jeno from an engineering lecture you took two years ago sits in the chair next to you, lazily flipping through an old copy of Dazed Magazine. Even if only as a last resort, Jeno makes good company seeing as you like the funny Tiktoks he shows you and the way he sneaks vodka into your slushy behind your towel. 
For a while, you pretend not to care about Sunghoon’s absence in hopes he’ll spawn from the pool’s deep end. Surprisingly, he does not. And just like that, an ugly pattern is formed: you go to the pool, wait all day for Sunghoon, and eventually, stumble back home in a daze from alcohol or sunstroke. 
It takes four and a half more, uneventful, Sunghoonless visits to the pool to leave you trying not to tear your hair out at Chaewon’s dining table. 
Kazuha serves as a good distraction though, making you quiz her on the details of Kim Yeri’s driving licence so she can come out to the club with you guys. Between the two girls looking nothing alike and Kazuha thinking a March birthday makes her a Sagittarius, you’re not hopeful. 
When she goes to the toilet, you check your phone just to be sure Sunghoon hasn’t texted in the twelve minutes since you last checked. And like before, the only messages you find are from Yeonjun asking if you’re “tryna slide” later. You aren’t, and haven’t been for the last two weeks he’d been asking. Completely unrelated to a certain blond lifeguard, of course. You sigh, thinking of Sunghoon again and why he hasn’t texted yet.
There’s nothing stopping you from sending the first text (today) — except for the fact that you’d been texting back and forth until you accidentally aired him at the start of the week. Unless you’re trying to hook up, you never send the first message. And as much as you would like to hook up with Sunghoon, there’s something about him that’s too endearing to only experience in the quiet of a backseat at 3 a.m., or in your room when no one’s home.
Four shots and a lot of egging on seem to be all you need to make your way to Sunghoon’s DMs. You let Chaewon and Kazuha debate over what your opening message should be, and with shaky thumbs, you type out something simple. Much to your friend’s (and your own) disappointment, you eventually settle on hey handsome. 
sh: hiiiiiiiiiii
For a while, you watch as Sunghoon types and stops and types and stops before his message comes through. 
sh: pretty
You can’t help the giggle that comes out, clearing your throat when Chaewon raises a brow at you. The two of you hold eye contact for a beat before erupting into a fit of laughter. 
you: i haven’t seen you at the pool in a while and i was wondering if you’re ok..
sh: yn.. have you been at my workplac e waiitng for me to show up again ???
you: are you ok.
sh: i think it’s cute that you did that, my friends tol d me they saw you there every day this week
you: why are your friends reporting my whereabouts to you..
sh: i asked them to, also im good i just took some days off
sh: back monday am i gonna see u then?
you: or we could just see each other on one of your off days?
On the left side of the screen, you watch animated ellipses dance above the keyboard before halting, though no message comes to replace them and it doesn’t take you long to figure out that the message hasn’t come through because your phone is frozen. 
Right?
You let out a laugh at your stupidity while Chaewon looks at you like you’re insane, turning off your phone and letting it sit for a bit before turning it back on. Wasting no time, you go straight to Instagram and pull up the DM thread where the word seen sits underneath your last message, laughing at you. 
Perplexed by what seems like your first rejection ever, you’re not quite sure how to move on so you send a text to the group chat (mainly for Yunjin, the only one who isn’t present). Yunjin replies with a message suggesting Sunghoon’s phone died. In the chair opposite, Chaewon suggests maybe he died. Jaehyun brings you more shots to cope with your heartache and you clutch your stomach laughing when he squirts lime juice into his eye.
Because your friends don’t respect you, you end up in the middle seat when the Uber arrives; sandwiched between Chaewon and Kazuha, drinking as much vodka as you can stomach from the younger girl’s flask while she mutters March 5th, Taurus over and over again. 
All that hard work was done in vain, though; when you reach the club Kazuha insists on being the first to go up in line, and tears start streaming when the bouncer asks what part of Seoul she was born in. Yeri’s ID gets confiscated and the four of you pile into another Uber and head to your backup plan, which you only learn about when the car pulls up.
Living in another city for uni means you’ve never partied with Sunghoon’s friends before — beyond walking by each other in a club — and some combination of excitement and alcohol makes your stomach heat up as you think about seeing him again.
Nishimura Riki’s family home is a giant structure that takes up more room than what’s probably necessary. There’s a massive fountain in the middle of the driveway shooting a stream, out of the mouth of what you think is a lion, into its main bed of water. The grand front door has banners criss-crossed over it saying HAPPY BIRTHDAY KIM SUNOO! Before you reach it, the door swings open and Jay’s jaw is even sharper than you remember when you see him so close. He grins at you and your friends, whooping obnoxiously at the sight of Jaehyun, dapping him up before waving awkwardly at you, Chaewon and Kazuha. You watch him lean over to Jaehyun and ask if that chick’s okay, while not so subtly pointing at the youngest of you all. 
When you look at her, black streaks of mascara tear through her blush like a knife though she wears a bright smile as she eyes Jay like a predator. You nudge her in the ribs and make a mental note to find a bathroom to help her fix her makeup. She frowns when you take her hand and enter the house, leaving Chaewon with Jaehyun and Jay, the three of which chat easily with one another.
Upstairs in the main bathroom, you kneel on the floor between Kazuha’s legs, gently running a makeup wipe over her face while she sits on the lid of the toilet babbling about Jay. “He’s the one,” she says determinedly. “I mean, he was worried about me.. he barely knows me and he was asking if I was okay. Like, how did he know I’d been upset?” You wonder if Kazuha has seen her face in the last half hour. Or if she knows why you insisted on taking her makeup off. 
“Right,” you nod, knowing it’s easier to agree with a drunk Kazuha than face an argument.
“It’s a feeling. Like, sometimes you just have to look through the eyes of your soul, and everything will work out.”
It’s amazing to you that she can say the things she says without laughing. But there’s a finality in her tone that makes you hope she’s right. 
With Kazuha all cleaned up, you’re able to focus on how crammed the house actually is. There are people in every room of the house, sitting on the porch, in the backyard. People are everywhere and you’re not sure you’ll ever manage to reunite with your friends. In favour of getting to know Jay, Kazuha presses a kiss to your cheek and runs off in the opposite direction. You head for the kitchen knowing that Chaewon will most likely be in there somewhere, batting her lashes at a tall graduate in hopes to score a free smoke. 
People are grinding and hanging off one another in the hall and the living room, making out by the stairs, and in what looks like the only empty spot in the kitchen Sunghoon leans against the counter, taking generous gulps from something in a red cup. Judging by his smart trousers and pretty black cardigan, Sunghoon has also developed a personal style in the time since you’ve last been home. A dent forms in Sunghoon’s cheek when he sees you, a sweet crinkle in his eyes as he says hi! 
You can’t figure out whether you should hug him or not but he looks so sweet with his wide smile and flushed cheeks that your arms widen of their own accord. His embrace is gentle, wrapping you up in a mixture of toned arms, soft cotton, liquor, and something light, floral, you think. 
“Can I fix you something to drink?” Sunghoon asks quietly, you only just hear him before he lets you go. “I didn’t think you’d be here tonight,” he says, reaching over the counter to grab a cup for you. 
“Yeah, I didn’t either.” 
“I was your backup plan?” 
“Oh, come on.” You nudge his shoulder with your hand as he screws the cap back on a bottle of lemonade. “I wouldn’t use those words. If I’d known about the party you would’ve been the plan.” 
“I thought you wouldn’t use those words.”
“You’re using those words,” you say, grinning when he laughs. 
You both go back and forth on it for a while, as Sunghoon tries to find Malibu in the mess of bottles cluttering the countertop. A wide grin spreads across his face when he does and you watch him fill the empty space in your cup before handing it to you. 
The first sip is syrupy sweet on your tongue, forcing an appreciative hum out of you. “So good,” you say through a dreamy sigh, shaking your head before taking another gulp. 
From his nose, he lets out a breathy laugh, his lips quirking up at the corners as he watches you. “It’s good to know my bartending classes are paying off.” 
“Have you ever considered a recipe book?” you ask, putting the cup down next to your phone, looking up at Sunghoon who seems to seriously consider this for a while before nodding. 
Almost experimentally, he rests his hand on your hip. “I’m sorry about earlier,” he tells you, holding you a little closer when he sees that you’re okay with it. 
You tilt your head at him, pretending not to remember the way he’d left you on read. “What happened earlier?” 
“On.. iMessage,” he starts, trailing off at the end though he continues when you nod. “I’m not good at talking to pretty girls.”
Despite not fully believing him, there’s a sincerity in his voice that makes your stomach flutter. “Lucky for you, I’m very good at talking to pretty boys.” 
You can’t tell if he’s flustered or drunk, but his cheeks redden after you speak. 
“Pretty boys, me?” 
“Who else?” 
Sunghoon’s laugh comes out in ha ha ha’s, and if you couldn’t see the way his eyes crinkled up you might have thought he was faking it.
For a moment, his gaze flickers between your eyes and mouth, his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and he speaks. “I don’t want you thinking I’m not interested or anything.” His voice is low, almost too quiet for the cramped space where Me and Your Mama bounces off the walls and rowdy kids constantly bump into you. 
With his hand still burning through your dress, he nudges you, turning you both around to take your place. Your ass rests against the edge of the countertop and the drunk students bump into him instead. “I’m just.. still figuring out how to stop being so shy all the time,” he says, using his thumb to lift the fallen strap of your dress.
You’re having a tough time believing him. If this is what being so shy looks like for Sunghoon, you’re terrified to see him being confident. 
The heat of his lingering hand against your bare shoulder only leaves you drawing a blank. Part of you feels silly for saying that you’re very good at talking to pretty boys. You’re way out of your depth right now.
“But you,” he trails off, looking between your eyes and lips again. His hand starts to tremble against your waist. “You make it so hard.” 
“I do?” you ask dumbly, at a complete loss for words, trying not to read too much into his word choice. Why, anyone could say that word, hard, and not mean anything by it, it’s a word after all. An adjective, you think. 
Get out of your head. 
“Mm,” Sunghoon nods solemnly. “You have no idea.”
Three people nudge past you, each one shoving into him harder than the last; he looks thankful when you suggest going outside. His fingers brush against yours before he pulls them away, turning around to head for the garden immediately. 
The smell of smoke spikes through the fresh air, strong enough to make your head swim as Sunghoon closes the back door behind you. “Wow,” you whisper, looking around. It’s like stepping into a whole new party, with slow R&B pumping out into the summer heat. The garden spills out way beyond what your eyes can see, glowing with twinkling fairy lights and excited chatter.
“I know, right.” 
There’s a two step staircase in the centre that you follow Sunghoon up, mumbling an apology to the couple whose makeout sesh you had to break up to do so. Both of your footsteps crunch against the stone path that splits the grass, and — at Sunghoon’s request — you tell him everything that led you to this party tonight. Leaving out all of the overthinking that went into the text you eventually sent him of course.
“Wait, how old is Kazuha?” 
“21, she’s just waiting on her new ID coming in the mail.” 
“What happened to her old one?” 
“I think she’s like.. 13 or something in her old photo, and we didn’t get in last week either ‘cause the bouncer didn’t think it was her,” you pause. “Or she just looked too young in the photo. I’m not sure.”
You can hear Sunghoon humming along to the SZA song that’s playing, tilting his head at your words. His brows knit together for a beat, and he has to grab you by the forearm to keep you from tripping over your own feet. Sunghoon’s eyes meet yours, as he maintains his grip on you. “Thanks,” you say through a breath, trying to focus on anything other than his touch. 
“Let’s sit, yeah?” 
Sunghoon rests his arm around your shoulders when you nod, keeping you upright as you walk slowly towards the back of the garden. “I don’t know where you guys go out, but one time, we put Riki in a dress and gave him Hwang Yeji’s ID.”
“And then stayed home?” The mental image makes you cackle, getting funnier with each second you dwell on it, but your breath catches in your throat when you look up at him, shaking his head as best as he can while laughing. The way his head falls back, showing off the column of his neck and angle of his jaw forces you to screw your eyes shut to stop the thoughts of kissing him there. 
“And then took him to the club with us and got him to buy our first round.”
With each thing he shares about that night, it grows more and more unbelievable, leaving your jaw on the floor as he leads you around a timber shed (that houses a hot tub) to a big swingy chair thing. “I’ll find the photos in a sec,” he smiles. “Let me hold your cup while you sit.” 
The spot provides about as much privacy as you figure a packed house party could afford. Not that you need privacy to be endeared by Sunghoon or anything. You take him up on his offer, sitting down and watching as he ignores the phone ringing in his pocket, handing you back your drink. Even though you’re not thrilled about the interruption, you tell him he should at least check who it is. 
“Jungwon?” He flinches, yanking the phone away from his ear. Jungwon’s voice is so loud you can hear him despite the distance. “Yeah I got it, I’m at the swing outside.” The call ends there and Sunghoon still doesn’t sit down and neither of you speaks. 
Blinking fairy lights are strung neatly around the swing’s frame. Only a few of the bulbs are working, but together they produce enough light for you to see the sun-bleached blue of the cushion you’re sitting on, and the way Sunghoon’s looking straight at you. You smile. He doesn’t budge. Instead, he worries his bottom lip with his teeth for a while, completely spaced out, until a broad-shouldered child arrives. 
Sunghoon daps him up and your brows raise when he pulls a short, flat bottle of vodka from his back pocket to give to Jungwon. “How much do I owe you?” he asks, taking the bottle. 
“For the drink or for the lifelong tab you and Riki have been racking up?” 
Chuckling, Jungwon shakes his head and points his thumb at Sunghoon. “Don’t you just love that sense of humour?”
The two boys share a look, and Jungwon nods in understanding. He affectionately pats Sunghoon’s bicep, face lighting up in awe. “Wow!” he gasps, turning to glance at you. “Have you felt the muscles on this guy? I wanna be just like him when I grow up.” With wide eyes, he nudges Sunghoon in your direction. 
Despite his apparent indifference towards Jungwon’s attempts at hyping him up, Sunghoon comes closer to you, letting you feel his arm anyway. He flexes his bicep — all firm, sculpted muscle through his soft cardigan — under your fingers in a way that spreads fire in your stomach. Unintentionally, you catch his gaze and your breath gets stuck in your throat. A quiet laugh slips from his lips as he puts his arm down. 
It’s hard not to think about what Jungwon had said about growing up, and even harder not to study him to figure out his age. His outfit is similar to Sunghoon’s; loose pants and a knitted cardigan which does nothing to help you make an estimate. Not being able to buy his own booze tells you that he’s not your age, his wide eyes and round cheeks only make him seem like a child, but his height and broad shoulders throw you off.
“How old are you?” you ask, giving in to your curiosity. 
“21,” he says, too quickly. “.. in two years.” 
He lingers for a bit to hype Sunghoon up some more; not so subtly bringing up his great qualities, like his considerate nature and unwavering dedication. Though Sunghoon’s “never ending” patience wears out and he asks him to leave. With a nod, Jungwon waves goodbye before sprinting back towards the house. Sunghoon laughs watching his friend and sinks into the seat next to you, his thigh pressing against yours for a beat before he closes his legs and rests his arms over the back of the chair.
“Wow,” you grin, leaning into his side. “Figure skating legend Park Sunghoon buys alcohol for kids.” 
He shrugs. “I’m not a legend.” 
You raise a brow, a smirk playing at your lips. “That’s the part you’re disputing?”
“Well, the other part is true,” he says, chuckling though unable to hide the flash of discomfort in his eyes. “If you consider a 19-year-old a kid.” 
“You’re way too humble.”
“Anyone could be good with the right coach, and I have, like, the most supportive parents ever so they help me a lot.”  
“Well, yeah, probably, but even then, your parents aren’t the ones skating, you are,” you point out. 
Sunghoon deflates, sighing heavily. “Can we talk about something else?” He takes a sip from his cup in a silent plea for you to drop it. When his eyes meet yours, his lips press into a flat smile and the soft lighting brings out the dimple in his cheek. 
You nod, using your hand to push his hair away from his forehead. The flat smile spreads across his face as you play with his light hair, that’s somehow silky smooth under your fingers despite the bleach. It’s a little messy when you move your hand, sitting over his thick brows in a way that, when paired with his boyish grin, makes him look younger. 
A dull thump startles both of you as a couple jog away from the shed with linked hands and no regard for you or Sunghoon. Neither of you bother trying to hide your amusement when you meet each other’s eyes, laughing hard enough to make the swing sway. 
“I’m sorry,” you say after calming down — maybe too late. 
He shakes his head. “You don’t have to be.”
The smile on his face is soft, sincere, but does nothing for the guilt you feel over stressing him out — your lips tug into a frown.
“Hey,” Sunghoon whispers and his forehead is warm against yours when he nudges you, grinning at the way you giggle when he pulls away. “I’m not upset or anything.” he pauses. “I don’t think I’m upset or anything, I’m just tired, you know. I spend a lot of time talking about skating during the day and there’s, like, a million and one other things I’d rather talk about right now.”
His honesty assuages your guilt and piques your curiosity. “Yeah?” you ask, arching a brow. Sunghoon nods. “Other things like..” 
He hesitates, caught off by the suggestiveness in your tone, by the way your hand grazes his knee before resting low on his thigh. A gulp echoes in his throat. “Uh, like..” His voice trails off. 
There’s a flutter in your chest as a smile tugs at your lips. “Why don’t we start with those pictures of Riki at the club?” 
“Riki at the club,” he repeats, nodding his head. “I can do that.” 
Sunghoon’s arm falls around your shoulders when you nestle into him, close enough now that his scent hits you effortlessly. A tiny square in his camera roll expands under his thumb, showing you Riki in a tight black halter dress with his hair grown out and styled in neat curls. There’s a boxy grin spread across his lips while he holds Yeji’s ID next to his face. In the next picture, he crouches between Shin Ryujin and Lee Chaeryeong while the three of them make kissy faces for the camera. “And then he had two shots of Fireball and passed out in a booth so we had to carry him home.” 
A laugh bubbles in your throat at the sight of Riki hunched over in a booth with his head on the table, and tears start to spill when you watch the video of Heeseung stumbling down the street, accidentally letting Riki slip off his back and onto the concrete. 
Out of nowhere, Sunghoon’s eyes practically bulge out of his head; an expression you’ve only seen on Kazuha whenever she suspects she left her flat iron on at home. Dread settles in your stomach as you brace yourself for what he might say next. “Just give me a minute,” he says, his words holding an urgency that only fuels your nerves. “I need to text someone.” 
Sunghoon thinking about talking to someone else while you’re trying to get to know him isn’t your favourite thing. In fact, it feels worse than what you imagine might happen if Kazuha actually does leave her flat iron on one day — because it shuts off automatically after 15 minutes.
You try hiding your disappointment but you can feel your lips drooping at the corners as he angles his phone away from you, deep in thought about this message he so urgently has to send. Whatever, you think. Couldn’t care less.
At long last, he finishes typing and pulls air through his teeth before putting his phone back in his pocket, drumming his nails against the seat until your phone goes off in your lap. In a fit of Kazuha-inspired absurdity, you want Sunghoon to feel bad about his lack of manners, so you ignore the notification despite your burning curiosity.
“Aren’t you gonna get that?” he asks, his gaze fixed on you expectantly. 
You shake your head. “It can wait.” 
A frown creases Sunghoon’s brow and you hate it; checking your phone immediately to find two texts from the boy sitting next to you.
sh: hey yn! sorry i took so long
sh: if it’s not too late do u wNt to go on a date with me next saturday?
After six days of exchanging Spotify links with Sunghoon over text, Saturday rolls around, and the doorbell chimes earlier than you’d been expecting it to. You call out that you’ll get the door, grab your bag and bolt down the stairs. With a hand on the door handle, you catch your breath, an act that seems pointless when you see Sunghoon through the glass. The door creaks open and his neck snaps in your direction, jaw falling to the floor. 
He waves. 
Your greeting is followed only by silence, your Hey, Sunghoon, dissipating into the sticky summer heat as he chews on his cheek, letting his eyes scan your body over and over. If he didn’t look so nervous you might have offered to pose for a picture. “How are you?” you ask, locking the door behind you and double-checking that you did lock it before tossing your keys into your purse. 
“You’re so pretty,” he sighs, pushing his hand through his hair. “And I love your dress,” he adds. “Very pretty.”
“Yeah?”
Sunghoon nods and suddenly, your group FaceTime call with Chaewon, Minjeong, and Yunjin feels like two hours well spent. 
While you tried on every summer outfit in your wardrobe for them to judge, Minjeong gave enthusiastic reactions to Sunghoon’s tagged photos, or, rather, to Mark in Sunghoon’s tagged photos but even she was struck by the outfit you settled on. The pretty floral dress that sits at the middle of your thighs that Sunghoon can’t seem to look away from. Hopefully, you’ll remember to thank them appropriately. 
You follow him to his car where he opens the passenger door for you. Struck by the fact that this is the first time anyone’s done that for you, and the sound of his hand rattling against the metal, you sit down, beaming up at him as he closes the door. Sunghoon’s car is neat, and tidy, and smells pleasantly of the new car scent Little Tree that hangs, completely still, from his rearview mirror. Through the clean windscreen, you watch him walk around the front of the car with pursed lips. 
“You like ice cream, right?” he asks when he sits down, looking over at you nervously. 
“Who doesn’t like ice cream?” 
Sunghoon takes you to a little old diner themed ice cream spot with checkerboard floors and a handful of plush vinyl booths. Some of the walls have cursive LED signs that you can’t quite make out and a great big jukebox in the back corner plays What Makes You Beautiful. 
It doesn’t surprise you that Sunghoon is quiet when it’s just you guys, but you can tell that he’s trying his best. He listens attentively to everything you have to say, nodding his head and asking thoughtful questions at all the right times; he makes you laugh more than you ever have. He practically lights up when you bring up his friends. 
“Your friends are so cute,” you say with a smile, thinking of the change Riki had given Yunjin to buy those slushys the other day. 
“If you knew my friends you wouldn’t think that,” Sunghoon says, a fond smile that goes against his words spreading on his face at the mention of them. “Except Jake,” he corrects. “Jake is so cute, yes.” 
“I don’t think I know which one he is,” you admit. “I know Heeseung, I know Jay, Jungwon, and Riki..” you trail off, looking up at him and the smudge of ice cream on his lower lip.
“Jake is the cute one,” he frowns. “You’ll know him when I show you.” Sunghoon takes his phone from his pocket, scrolling for a while. “I’m sorry, I can’t find a normal photo of all seven of us.” 
“Just show me whatever,” you say, looking up at him and the smudge of ice cream on his bottom lip.
Without thinking, you reach over the table, using your thumb to wipe it away. Sunghoon’s cheeks immediately flush with pink and he gulps watching you suck the ice cream from the pad of your finger.
“Thanks,” he mumbles, shy, while turning his phone towards you to show the most absurdly staged photograph you think you’ve ever seen. “So, uh, Jake is.. he’s the one holding Heeseung up by his hair, and Sunoo’s posing in front of Jay.” Sunghoon hands you his phone when he’s done talking.
You use the opportunity to examine the picture. 
Jake (so cute) really does hold Heeseung up by his hair, and Sunoo (also so cute) shows the camera his pretty side profile and a thumbs up. Some other things stick out to you in the photo, a laugh making its way out of you as you notice that Jungwon isn’t there but Jay holds up a printed picture of him in his right hand. Riki sits between Jay and Jake, wearing a concerned expression about something going on off-camera. Sunghoon is in the back, holding what looks like a yoga pose on the back of the couch they’re sitting on. 
Happily, you let Sunghoon tell you more about his friends until the sun starts to set and the backs of your thighs stick to the vinyl seat. Not quite ready to say goodbye, you ask Sunghoon if you can go on a walk together. He seems into the idea, nodding his head and smiling down at you. 
Walking aimlessly, the two of you maintain a neutral silence (not uncomfortable, not particularly comfortable either, just quiet), and pretend not to notice the way the backs of your hands touch, each bump longer than the last though amounting to nothing. 
It’s not until comforted by the smell of chemically treated water that you realise how close to the pool you are. You follow Sunghoon around a corner and see the locked gates, wondering if he’d brought you this way on purpose or just out of habit. 
“Wish it was open,” you say off-handedly, not really meaning anything by it. Like telling the person you sit beside on the first day of class that you’re so tired even though you had the best night of sleep in your life. 
Sunghoon isn’t beside you when you look over at him, he’s a few paces behind you, standing by the gates. A mischievous smile spreads on his lips as he holds his keys in his hand, dangling them. “It could be.” 
“Are we allowed to do this?” you ask nervously, watching Sunghoon twist his key in the lock. 
“Allowed to?” he repeats, tilting his head as though the concept is foreign to him. “No, I don’t think so.” A satisfying click sounds as the lock comes undone and Sunghoon pushes the gate open with a huge grin on his face as he gestures for you to go inside first. “After you.” 
He follows you in, shutting the gate behind him and holding out a hand for you to take; you lock your fingers with his and decide that you never want to let go. Not even after a thin layer of sweat forms between your palms. 
The space seems so large when it’s empty like this, with the parasols closed and the lack of screaming children. Streetlights cover the area in a dim orange haze, turning it into a fuzzy dreamscape. The pool itself seems so small when you see it covered up, nothing like the ocean-wide abyss you remember it being when you were young, racing with Chaewon, or pretending like you were only playing around when you tried to drown Jaehyun. 
“Do you wanna get in?” Sunghoon asks, his soft voice interrupting your thoughts. 
You don’t hesitate to nod. 
One night a week, the pool stays open until after dark, but you’ve never been. So when the mechanised pool cover whirs open after Sunghoon flips the switch, you’re shocked by the lights that illuminate the still water. It makes sense that the pool would have some form of lighting for safety, but you hadn’t expected the yellowing fixtures set in the tiled walls to shine so beautifully.
“Come on,” he says, taking you by the hand again, approaching the water. 
A part of you wants to protest when he lets go, but the words catch in your throat as he pulls his shirt over his head. Having spent the better part of most summers poolside, the sight of shirtless Sunghoon isn’t a new one though you find yourself breathless all the same. It’s different tonight but he doesn’t seem to notice. 
Worried you’ll break the spell, you can’t bring yourself to speak. Worried you’ll open your mouth and the moment might slip out from under you. These worries, however, are no match for Sunghoon’s slim waist which leaves your mouth forming an O at the sight. 
“Wow,” you whisper, awestruck. 
Sunghoon laughs, nervously, running a hand through his hair and using the other to hold his shirt over his stomach. “Don’t do that,” he says under his breath. He drops the shirt. The rest of his clothes follow, quickly leaving him in only his tight-fitting black boxer briefs that you struggle to look away from. 
An odd feeling starts to creep in, causing a fire in your belly — obviously from the sweet cider you had earlier, nothing at all to do with Sunghoon. Or his sculpted torso. Or his face, with his soft smile, and sparkling eyes. No one’s ever looked at you like this before.
“What are you thinking about?” 
Those shoulders. Those lips. Kissing those lips. You gulp. “Nothing.” 
Even though he doesn’t look like he believes you, he doesn’t press you on it. Instead, he smiles. Sunghoon turns his back to you, walking towards the pool’s edge to dip a pointed toe into the water. You like the way he hums, nodding his head as if it’s just to his liking. 
“Feels good?”
“Perfect,” he grins, stepping into the pool. 
A splash makes the water ripple around him — you’ve never noticed it’s so clear, you can see everything. From the mosaic-like blue tiles on the pool floor and walls to the way Sunghoon’s hair moves around his head. It’s a dazzling blue, shifting brilliantly through the whole spectrum under light from the moon, the pool, and the lampposts. 
Considering the way you’re sweating in the sticky heat, the water even looks refreshing, so you’re not sure why you don’t move to pull your dress off; or why you can’t shake your nerves. Sunghoon’s seen you in skin-tight dresses, and skimpy bikinis, so you’re not sure why the thought of him seeing you in your underwear is spooking you so much. It could be your lack of a bra. But even then, Sunghoon isn’t going to be the first person to see your bare breasts.
Interrupting your thoughts, he bobs to the surface with closed eyes and straight lips; his dimple shows. Pushing hair from his forehead, he asks if you’re going to join him though he seems to sense your apprehension, shaking his head. “You don’t have to take anything off,” he tells you gently. “Except maybe your shoes and socks.” 
You nod, stepping out of your shoes and pulling your socks off almost robotically. 
“It’s okay,” he smiles, comforting, reassuring, as he swims up to the edge of the pool and extends his wet hand to you. “I got you.”
You tell yourself to get out of your head, looking into Sunghoon’s sparkling eyes and feeling at ease from the way he looks up at you like you’re God’s gift. When you reach for the bottom of your dress, he gulps, his arm falling limply against the coping. You turn away from him to pull the light fabric over your head, letting it fall in a heap next to your shoes, and Sunghoon’s looking in the other direction when you turn back around. Even with the ‘privacy’ he’s afforded you by looking away, you can’t help but use your arms to cover your chest as you make your way over to the pool, sitting down on the edge and slipping into the water. 
It is refreshing. The water is the perfect temperature as it envelops you, soothes you.
Just more than an arm’s length away, Sunghoon’s form is broad. His shoulders are so wide and his back so toned that your head starts to swim. His skin, sunkissed, glowing, is dotted with pretty moles that you’ve never noticed before but can’t look away from — suddenly feeling as though you could point to each one with your eyes closed. 
With an odd half step, you reach him, letting your arms fall around his waist and pressing your chest to his back. You don’t know why you do that.
He draws a sharp breath. “Hi,” he whispers after a beat. 
“Hi.” 
A quiet falls between you until Sunghoon mumbles, over there, while pointing towards the deep end of the pool. You swim poorly behind him and he only stops when you call out his name. Sunghoon breaks out into laughter when he sees you. For him, who’s well into the deep end, the, now still, water might tease his chin if disrupted. For you, almost 2 metres behind, the water tickles your nose even when you stand on your tiptoes.
“Whoa,” he whispers. 
You tilt your head back to speak. “What?” 
“You’re just..” He pauses to gulp. “So short.”  
Offended, you scoff. “I’m the tallest out of all my friends,” you say defensively. And untruthfully — hoping he’s never seen you standing next to Yunjin.
“Are you friends with the Lakers?”
You drift away from him, laughing as well, until the water just about reaches your armpits. He follows you. As more of his body breaches the surface, water slips from his chest, droplets and streaks glowing under the white light of the moon, completely breathtaking.
“I was so nervous about today,” he says, pushing some water towards you, his lighthearted tone gone. 
“Oh?” You pause, continuing when he nods, and push water back in his direction. “How do you feel now?” 
Sunghoon’s pouty lips jerk up the corners, playful, boyish. A soft laugh slips from the space between his teeth. “I’m absolutely terrified.” His honesty draws you to him, and has you actually drifting closer in the water.
“What’s scaring you?” 
His breath seems to catch in his throat. He tilts his head while eyeing you. “Are you asking because you really don’t know?” If you’d still been splashing each other you doubt you’d have heard him talking over the water.
“Does it matter?”
Sunghoon seems to consider this for a moment, to consider you. Despite sitting just high enough to cover your breasts, the water doesn’t do very much to conceal them and his eyes get stuck on your chest for more than a little while. He clears his throat, looking back up at your face. He doesn’t answer. Instead, he raises his hands and smacks the surface of the water between you with open palms. A big splash hits you in the face. 
It’s on, you think, doing the same thing to him with all the force you can muster and laugh at the yelp he lets out. Something of a splash fight ensues, both of you doing everything you can to create a bigger mess of water to attack the other with. 
The rain starts so subtly that you don’t even notice it at first. You’re both too busy laughing and trying to splash the other harder to think about anything else. Only when you stop to catch your breath, to rest your aching arms, do you catch the faint ripples skating across the pool’s surface. Sunghoon doesn’t relent, taking the opportunity to gain the upper hand. And the rain gets heavy fast.
“Sunghoon, it’s raining, stop!” you call out, turning your face away from him. His raucous laughter makes your stomach flutter as you grab his wrist. “Come on, we’re gonna get wet, we have to go!” 
When you look back over at him, his smile is so wide, so sweet that you almost feel faint. Sunghoon doesn’t stop laughing, the sound is so contagious you can’t help but join in. His arms fall around your waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world to do while he cackles in front of you, you let your hands rest on his firm triceps. 
Large droplets start hitting your lashes, clinging to them, obscuring your vision, so you bring a hand up to act like an awning above your eyes. He calls you so cute under his breath though his laughter doesn’t seem like it’s going to stop anytime soon. 
“Hoon, come on. What’s so funny?”
The rain is cold against your shoulders but the boy in front of you doesn’t seem to share your concerns about the sudden downpour. You lock eyes with him, and his laughter seems to get caught in his throat. He’s still smiling but seems nervous, as though he’s only now become aware that he’s holding you so close that your naked chest is pressed against his. 
Sunghoon clears his throat. His smile returns, as a breathy laugh makes its way from his nose. He lets his face come down towards yours, slow, cautious, and too desperate to wait, you meet his lips halfway; they’re every bit as soft as you’d imagined. 
As if relieved, Sunghoon’s shoulders sag and his body seems to melt into your own. Desperation, hunger hits you from all angles, lighting up your insides and leaving your skin burning under his touch. Unthinkingly, you link your arms around his neck to pull him impossibly close, almost whimpering when his tongue grazes yours.
Sunghoon tastes light and sugary, like the perfect combination of artificial strawberry and sweet coffee as his tongue moves against yours. From your mouth into his slips a dreamy sigh, while he holds onto you gently, like you’re the most delicate thing in the world; like he’s the most delicate thing. Why haven’t you been kissed like this before? So slowly, so softly, as if he means it. As if he’s kissing you for no reason other than simply wanting to kiss you. 
Only when he pulls away to catch his breath do you regain your senses and notice how much heavier the rain has become. But your brain short circuits at the sight of him. His breathing is ragged, his chest rises and falls against yours. Water darkened hair clings to his forehead, letting beads slip from its ends to his cheekbone before slipping down the column of his neck.
Shelter is the only word you manage to say and all you can do is hope that he’s able to work out the rest. Like something from the purest depths of your imagination, Sunghoon’s kiss-bitten lips stretch into a wide smile. A giggle, the softest thing you’ve ever come across, slips from his mouth while his fingers squeeze at your hips. 
“YN,” he says, breathless. “We’re in the pool.”
Dripping water onto the concrete under your feet, you and Sunghoon walk at snail’s pace from his car to your front door, with your linked hands swinging between your bodies. 
The porch light diffuses dramatically over Sunghoon’s features, and somehow, even under the stark lighting, he’s still beautiful. His wet hair drips water onto his shoulders, darkening his shirt in abstract splashes around the neckline. A grin splits across his lips when he locks eyes with you, his face scrunching up and his shoulders racking up and down as he laughs to himself. 
It’s impossible not to join in. “What’s so funny?” 
He only shrugs in response, struggling to keep a straight face. “I’m just.. happy,” he says eventually, a tinge of uncertainty hanging from his words. 
With shaking hands, Sunghoon grabs you by the waist and holds you close, leaning down to kiss you. As your lips move with his, the only thing you can think about is how badly you want to feel this moment forever. To feel the tremble in sweet Sunghoon’s hands as he holds onto you gently, to feel his soft hair under your fingertips, and his hard chest pressed against your body. To feel his lips curving into a smile, his forehead resting on yours as his breath fans your lips. “Are you happy too?” he asks. 
You think you’ll die if you ever forget the way it feels to like Park Sunghoon.
“Yes. Very.” 
Through the peephole in your front door, you watch as Sunghoon stands outside, bringing a hand to his cheek, fingers grazing the spot where you’re certain your lip gloss lingers. You suppress a giggle with your hand and run up the stairs to your room where you bury your face in your pillow to muffle a squeal. You can’t remember the last time you felt so giddy over something that was happening in your own life rather than something sweet you’d read in a book or heard about from a friend.
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With Chaewon’s hand in yours, and butterflies in your stomach, you make your way to the community pool for the first time in about a week. Like always, you find Sunghoon’s friends wreaking havoc in the water until.. something happens. By the time it occurs, you’ve been laying poolside for about an hour, trying to convince your best friend that you liking a guy isn’t going to do anything to your friendship. 
“You’re not supposed to like that guy,” Chaewon whines like a child, playing with the frayed hem of her shorts. “You’re only supposed to like me!” A sigh passes from her lips as she uses her arm to shield her eyes from the sun. “And Yunjin!” she adds after too long. 
“What about the rest of our friends?” 
“And Kazuha, and Minjeong, and Jaehyun, an—” 
“Jaehyun’s a guy.” 
She seems a little thrown off by your interruption, pursing her lips before speaking. “Well, yeah, but.. he’s one of our guys. A Chaewon-approved guy.” 
Suddenly, the noise level reduces by at least half and you can’t help but feel alarmed, whipping your head in the direction of the pool. A quick scan tells you that nothing bad has happened, allowing you to release a breath you didn’t know you were holding. In the corner of your eye, you see Sunghoon’s friends huddled together and quickly realise that the space has only gotten so quiet because they’re chatting at a normal volume. Huh, you think, it almost sounds like the speakers are quite good. Heeseung and Jay get out of the water, sitting up on the pool’s edge while the other four boys all stand in place, all six of them fix their eyes on something in front of them but you don’t care enough to investigate further. 
You look back at Chaewon as a pout settles on your lips. “Why can’t Chaewon approve of my guy?”
“When you say that Sunghoon is your guy, do you mean it in the same way that Yeonjun is your guy?” she asks, her tone scathing but her face concerned. “Or, the way that Asahi is your guy, or, even Yoshi?” 
“No. This is different. Sunghoon is different.” 
You know how trite and naive you must sound, but he is different. You’d never dated a guy who’d pick you up right at your front door; Yeonjun and Yoshi typically sent DMs to let you know they’d parked out front, and Asahi did nothing but honk the car horn because he found it funny. Though to call what you were doing with those guys ‘dating’ would be a huge overstatement. There was Renjun from first year who was nice enough but never wanted to hang out, and Donghyuck who made you laugh but never complimented you. 
Chaewon crinkles her nose, reaching out to hold your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I really hope you’re right.”
And now there’s Sunghoon. Sunghoon who tells you that he can’t wait to see you again; who always tells you how pretty you look; who blushes when you hold his hand, who touches his cheek when you kiss it. You can’t imagine him doing anything bad to anyone. Sunghoon is different, and you hope you can be different this time too. In all the time you spend thinking, your guy shows up with a shy smile on his face with both of his hands behind his back. 
It’s your first time seeing him in person since your date and the sun glows against his skin, his wet hair tickling his thick brows as he stands at the foot of your chairs, watching Chaewon nervously. “Hi, Chaewon,” he says after a while.
“Hello!” She grins, seeming so bright and happy that you find it hard to reconcile this Chaewon with the one who’d been clutching her chest and sliding down the walls over the fact you have a crush on the boy she’s now being so pleasant to. 
“I got this,” Sunghoon says, bringing his hand from behind his back to reveal a strawberry-flavoured slushy. “For you.” He adds on, holding the drink out to your friend. While Chaewon gushes about how much she likes the mix of berries that make up her favourite flavour, Sunghoon hums and nods along while making his way to the other side of your chair. He wears a wider, more confident smile on his face while he stands over you. 
“Hi, gorgeous,” he says quietly, bringing his other hand out to give you the blue raspberry slushy he’s been holding. With his foot, Sunghoon drags a spare lounger from behind him next to yours before moving out of the way and using his hands to push it some more, making the armrest touch yours. “Hey,” he smiles, taking a seat. 
You take a grateful sip of your drink, surprised at how much better it tastes coming from him. “Thank you, Hoon.” You can’t stop yourself from leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek, liking the way your stomach flutters when his hand flies up to touch the spot you’d kissed.
“I like when you do that.” 
“This?” you ask, kissing him again. Through squinted eyes, you notice a dusting of pink over his cheeks and take such a big sip of your slushy that every single part of your body goes numb and your head starts to hurt. Sunghoon only laughs, watching you. It’s quiet between you for a bit until you come to. “I’m not complaining, really, but don’t you have.. lives to guard?” 
“I’m on break,” he says. “Do you want me to go?” His brows raise dramatically as the corners of his lips sink to the floor, a glint of something playful in his sparkling eyes. 
You shake your head, face alighting with a grin when you remember something. “So can I see the skating videos you promised you’d show me?” 
All playfulness is gone. “Did I.. promise?” 
“Yes!” You don’t like the way he arches his brow at you. “Two nights ago.. before you fell asleep on the phone.” 
He scoffs at you, playfully. “If I remember correctly, you fell asleep on the phone,” Sunghoon says, tone accusatory. “And you snore.” Sunghoon lets his cheek lie flat against the chair, grinning. He’s beautiful. And correct.
“Skating videos,” you repeat. Sunghoon rolls his eyes at you, grinning brilliantly when you laugh. “I’m serious,” you frown. 
“You’re cute,” he says quietly, like it’s a correction. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.” Sunghoon pauses but takes your nod as a sign to continue. “I have a thing, next Tuesday, and I was wondering if you’d want to come and see me skate in person?” His voice tips up at the end of the question.
Excitement bubbles up inside you, causing you to sit up straight in your seat, turning your body to face him. “You want me to come?” 
He nods eagerly. 
“I’ll be there.” 
The tips of Sunghoon’s ears redden as he smiles at you, his eyes scanning your face. You can’t resist kissing him, and he doesn’t try to stop you, meeting your lips halfway. It’s sweet as sugar and goes on until his friends start to cheer loudly and Sunghoon pulls away, shy. But he looks like he wants to kiss you again. You grab him by the cord of the whistle around his neck and pull him back towards you. Relief floods you when your lips reunite.
“I’m gonna text you later with the details, time and shit,” he mumbles against your lips before getting up to go. 
As he retreats, he looks over his shoulder a few times, waving at you and smiling widely while he does. Until he bumps into a small child who practically topples over; Sunghoon manages to catch them in the nick of time and his neck flushes pink. 
It doesn’t make sense to you how he could be so cute. 
Chaewon watches you as she sips her slushy with an appreciative smile, letting out a long ahh of refreshment before putting the cup down. “Chaewon approved.” 
It seems like your mother’s been back from work for a while when you get home. A stretchy white headband holds her hair out of her face while she stands over a pot on the stove, looking comfy in some sweatpants.
Happy to see you, she pulls you into a hug, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Hi, honey,” she grins. 
She turns down your offer to help and insists on you setting the table instead, which you do happily, taking a seat when you’re done. Through her phone, she plays the music she listened to while you were growing up and sitting there, watching your mum cook while dripping chlorinated water from your hair to the kitchen floor, makes you feel a bit like a child. Like it’s 2008 and you’ve come home from a day at the pool with Chaewon, who would sit across from you at the dinner table, all blunt fringe and missing teeth, talking about this brand new thing called cheesecake, while your mother made dinner for the three of you with a towel wrapped on her head, drying her wet hair. 
As your mum fills your plate, she tells you about her day at work. Her boss was unreasonable, like always, and her office bestie took off on maternity leave. Again. She asks you about your day and pretends like she doesn’t notice the way you smile when you talk about the pool. 
You don’t wait to tell her about Sunghoon. 
“Is that who you went out with last week?” 
You cough around a grain of rice; you don’t remember mentioning him. “How do you know?” 
A smile takes over her face. “Because I watched him stand around the driveway for five minutes before he rang the bell.” You can’t help the way you laugh, it sounds like him to a tee. “What’s he like?” 
You tilt your head for a minute, thinking. “I still feel like we’re getting to know each other, you know?” Understanding, she nods her head. So, naturally, you talk for the better part of 10 minutes about Sunghoon until your food gets cold and your cheeks hurt from smiling. 
In preparation for Sunghoon’s skating showcase, you read up on the sport and audience etiquette, and stay up late the night before making a pretty banner for him. Sleepiness plagues you when you wake up that afternoon but at least you’re happy with the way the sign came out. 
While doing your makeup, you start to second guess your outfit choice. It was nice when you picked it last week, and it was nice when you put it on an hour ago and then back on twenty minutes ago. So, out of options, you stand in front of the mirror for the umpteenth time, sending Sunghoon a picture of your flowy off-white dress and asking if it’s okay. 
Sunghoon, dramatic as ever, responds with a selfie, all pretty smile and red hearts drawn over his eyes. You almost want to drop dead at the sight of him. And then another message comes through, no words, just emojis. At least 40 silly little yellow faces fill the text box. Some are crying, some have heart eyes, some have starry eyes, and some are drooling. There seems to be no apparent order, and you see sprinkles of white hearts in between them. 
sh: you look so beautiful you’re so beautiful baby
Baby, he’d said. Simple, pixelated, enough to make your heart flip in your chest. 
sh: can i come over 
sh: just to loo k at you or smth 
you: please 
You want to kiss him. 
sh: ok omw .. lying i dont have time :((( 
sh: also i fucked up my hair last night don’t laugh when you see me. 
you: no promises .. 
There’s a short queue at the reception desk when you arrive at the rink. The lobby is full of excited parents and bored teens, all eager with anticipation for the start (and end) of the summer showcase. Sunghoon had been relatively vague about the event until you called him last night, with a list of questions about it. With one question about it. The two of you chatted and laughed for hours until you got an answer. 
When he’s not spending the day at the pool, Sunghoon volunteers to teach kids classes at the rink he grew up in. Every year, the teaching cycle runs from April to July, at which point the rink holds the summer showcase, for parents and family members to attend and see what they’ve been funding for the past four months. 
“We don’t normally let parents sit in on classes because it’s distracting for the kids,” he explained through a yawn. “And it’s the whole reason I started skating in the first place.” Sunghoon paused. You hadn’t been expecting him to stop speaking but you rubbed your eyes and mumbled oh, really? as you used a pencil to sketch out the outline of your bubble letters. “You know, at first I thought you fell asleep, but I didn’t hear you snoring so I got a little worried,” he said, nervous. 
“I’m still here.” 
He fell quiet for a beat, speaking nervously. “Just let me know if I’m boring you, yeah?” 
“I could listen to you talk forever,” you admitted. “I’m having fun learning more about you.” 
Sunghoon’s light laughter made you bite back a giggle. “You make me feel good about myself,” he said quietly before continuing, giving you no time to respond. “But, yeah, I used to play hockey because I didn’t know how to talk to anyone except my parents and my one-year-old little sister, but my only friend on the hockey team invited me to go and watch him at the showcase one year and it was just.. the greatest thing I’d ever seen.” 
You encouraged Sunghoon to go on, still reeling from his quiet confession, and loving the grin in his voice while he spoke about skating and the way he laughed through some stories from work. Like how on a quiet day at the pool when he’d been messing around with Heeseung, Jake, and Riki in the water, some random guy approached them. 
“And this is so crazy too because we were just, like, fucking around, and the guy goes, “My grandmother can swim faster than you,” like he yelled it and stomped away.” 
Worried about waking your sleeping parents, you covered your mouth while laughing, mainly from the offence you can hear in Sunghoon’s voice over something that happened in October. “What did you guys do after that?” 
“I was on shift so I clocked out and went home.” 
The back of the program has a picture of Sunghoon and some of the other skating coaches, but it’s hard to pay attention to them or the signup sheet at the bottom when you see the wide smile on his face; you love the photo, it’s your favourite. He looks so happy, so radiant. If the scrunch of his nose and eyes is anything to go by, he must have been laughing when the picture was taken. This detail only makes you love it even more. 
In the corner of your eye, Jake leans against a wall, scrolling through his phone with a sheet of paper tucked under his arm. Seeing as he’s now (technically) your friend-in-law, you decide to approach him. Through the crowd of attendees waiting to be seated, he spots you as well, rushing over with the widest smile you’ve ever seen on anyone. You could count his teeth. 
Jake takes you by surprise, hugging you. “Hey! Hoon’s so happy that you’re here,” he says, somehow smiling even wider. “I’m so happy that you’re here, I finally have company!” 
When the double doors to the rink open up, you follow Jake to what he describes as the best seats in the house. “I always sit up here, so our boy knows to look over,” he says with a smile, his eyes never leaving you. “In case you were worried about that. It’s kinda far, and there’s lights, so you might have to wave a little harder than normal but, he’ll see you.” 
You nod, smiling too. “Got it.” Jake doesn’t look away. “Are you okay?” you ask him. More out of concern for your own well-being than anything else; you’ve heard of people murdering their best friend’s crushes before. 
He chews on his lip, tilting his head. All traces of his welcoming smile have faded, replaced with a more solemn expression as he looks over your shoulder for a beat. “Sunghoon’s my best friend,” he starts, and it’s hard not to picture yourself tumbling to your death down the slowly populating rows in front of you. They seem steeper now than before. “And he’s.. well.. you know him. It’s just that, he really likes you, you know? And I’m not saying this to be rude but I know about Yeonjun.. and—” Jake stops short, shooting you an apologetic look. “Anyway, I know that for some people, for you, for me, even, seeing more than one person at a time isn’t a big deal, but Hoon’s not like that.” 
You wait for him to continue. He doesn’t. 
A voice booms through the tannoy, telling everyone to take their seats as the show will be starting soon. 
Unsure what to say, you look out at the ice while Jake’s words sink in. It might have been easier to come up with something if he’d been any less kind about it. Spoken to you in a harsher tone. You hate the idea of Sunghoon knowing about the others, even if they were before him. Hate the idea of Jake having a similar conversation with him; telling Sunghoon that he’s not trying to be rude but..
“Sunghoon’s..” you pause, nervous. “He’s the best, and I can’t imagine seeing anyone else,” you admit. 
Jake beams, trusting you, and nods his head. “He’s gonna love your banner,” he grins. “And that.. angry looking plushy you brought.” 
The lights cut and all of the chatter hushes in an instant. Slowly, they fade back on, as a classical piece begins. Jake bounces his leg so hard you can feel the bench rattle under you, he’s practically glowing with giddiness. He’s like a little puppy, a golden retriever with light hair to match. 
After a short while, a boy skates out onto the ice, tall, graceful, an—Riki? He reaches the middle of the rink and introduces himself, enthusiastically reading a script from a few cue cards and looking right up into the stands to wear you and Jake sit. Beside you, Jake cheers, raising his banner, and you crane your neck to read it (LUCKY STRAWBERRIKI), and on the ice, Riki hides his face with his hand, quickly looking at his feet before continuing with his intro. 
You count eight tiny kids skating towards Riki, followed by Jungwon, and a line of other older skaters, Sunghoon is the last to appear, and your stomach churns with pride. All of them are dressed casually; you like Sunghoon’s straight-cut jeans and open button-up. 
As Jake predicted, Sunghoon (and Jungwon, and Riki) look up in your general direction, and next to you, Jake struggles to hold all three posters up at once so you help him, yelling along excitedly. It’s hard to tell from so far away but it feels like Sunghoon is staring straight at you like you’re the only two people at the rink. You feel like standing, like standing and singing HOOOOOOOOOOOON at the top of your lungs. For a moment you wonder if he’d shout back, telling you that right now he can hardly breathe. As if reading your mind, his mouth tugs up at the corners, slightly, before spreading into an ear-to-ear grin that makes your cheeks burn. 
The entire show passes by in an adorable whirlwind, as you and Jake applaud and encourage all of the performers, gushing with one another over how cute the baby skaters (including Jungwon and Riki) are. It’s beautiful and exciting, and you’re so happy you came. 
But time seems to stop when Sunghoon returns. Jake cheers loudly for him when he skates out; you can’t bring yourself to do the same. 
He comes to a stop in the middle of the rink, looking right up at the two of you. Jake waves his poster and raises yours too, seeming to notice the way you’re stuck to the spot. Sunghoon smiles, and somehow, he’s even more beautiful than you remembered. 
Graceful, elegant, Sunghoon glides on the ice when the music starts, immediately skating into a jump — you watch with held breath. He spins once, his arms tucked neatly by his sides, his hair fanning out around his head. Another spin, beautiful, clean. In the seats around you, people are cheering, you can hear them clear as day but the only person you see is Sunghoon who’s turning into his third rotation; the last. He sticks the landing, and an eternity has passed by as you let a sigh of relief slip out. 
Each jump is more gorgeous than the last, though seems to go on forever — you’re nervous as if it’s you on the ice. 
Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you watch as he skates beautifully, executing smooth spins and controlled turns. You don’t think you could look away from him if you tried — this must be what people mean when they say someone was born for something. Even in the casual setting, he looks like a professional, just as stable and fluid as he was in the videos you’d watched. 
The music fades out, his performance is done, and you find yourself thankful for the fact that no one’s sitting behind you as you stand up. Jake does the same. Both of you hold your banners up for him to see, cheering louder than anyone else. Sunghoon raises a hand to wave at you. You wave back excitedly, getting a little flustered by the girl sitting a few rows ahead of you who turns around, smiling dreamily at Jake and rolling her eyes at you.
After bowing politely, Sunghoon looks back up at you, and you can’t help but blow him a kiss, only feeling silly about it when Jake nudges you with a goofy smile. You watch as Sunghoon raises his right hand for a beat, shifting a little on his skates before reaching out ahead of him, catching the flying kiss. 
Butterflies run rampant in your stomach when he holds his hand, and your kiss, over his heart.
As the show ends, you chat with Jake for a bit, gushing over the performances together as the audience clears out, and you trudge slowly down the stairs and back into the lobby. It’s nice chatting with him, seeing the way his face lights up as he talks so excitedly and passionately about his friends. 
You understand why Sunghoon likes him so much.
Sunghoon shows up at the other end of the lobby space, a vision in purple-tinted hair. You have to tell yourself to keep your feet planted on the spot for fear of literally running into his arms. He doesn’t seem to share the same sentiment, thank God, jogging through the lobby, dipping and dodging people as best and as fast as he can to reach you. 
He hugs you. Holds you tight. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he says, quietly, only for you. 
In your chest, your heart seems to grow tiny fists that throw a million punches a minute. Your brain scrambles for the words to say but you can’t come up with anything, hoping that the tightness of your arms around him lets him know that you’re glad to be here. 
He lets go of you, beaming, and moves to dap up Jake, asking his friend if he’s aware that he’s taking Jungwon and Riki go-karting tonight. 
“I’m doing what?” 
“Yeah, they wanted me to take them but I’m busy.” 
“Busy doing what?” Jake asks conspiratorially, arching a brow. He glances sideways at you, and can’t hold back his laughter. 
Sunghoon sets his jaw, punching Jake in the stomach. “Grow up,” he mutters, stifling a laugh of his own. 
You laugh too, partially at what Jake said, mostly at the way he keels over, clutching his stomach, a long groan passing from his lips. Sunghoon’s brows raise when you hand him the banner. “Look what I made for you.” 
“I saw you holding it earlier, baby, I love it,” he says, beaming at you as he reads over it again. “You did such a good job. Can I take it home?” His eyes sparkle when he looks up at you. Your heart cinches in your chest. 
“Of course.”
Next to you, Jake holds out the banner he made. “Do you wanna take mine home?” 
Sunghoon doesn’t even spare him a glance. “Recycle it,” he says. 
Jake tilts his head, confused. A loud huh comes out as he raises his brows. “I make a banner for you every single year and every single time you turn your nose up at it. But here comes a pretty girl and all of a sudden you love banners. Really, Sunghoon? You love it?” He pauses to let out a laugh, incredulous, seeming not to care about the few people that have turned over in your direction. “I can’t stand you.” Jake’s voice is whiny and hard to take seriously.
“I don’t love banners, I love this banner,” Sunghoon corrects, using his hand to shove Jake’s shoulder before holding the banner up over his chest. 
Amused, you watch the two boys bicker for a bit before Jake cuts Sunghoon off mid-sentence, raising his hands, muttering the word whatever.
Sunghoon seems sceptical of Badtz-Maru when you hand him over. He holds the plushy in his hand, eyeing it suspiciously before wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “He’s cute, baby, really, but why’d you pick the world’s unhappiest penguin?”
“He reminded me of you.” Sunghoon’s jaw drops, brows knitting together as he tilts his head, all while Jake struggles to stifle a laugh. “Because he’s from Gorgeoustown,” you add, your heart singing when Sunghoon kisses the top of your head, and you can’t resist letting your arms wrap around his waist. 
Compliments flow out of you like water from a fountain when Jungwon and Riki join your little group outside. Jungwon, with deep dimples and flushed cheeks, shyly mumbles variations of thank you, and I appreciate that while shifting from one foot to the other. Riki glows with pride, standing up straighter, and asking you what else you liked about his performance. 
The sun feels nice on your arms as you watch the two play a very intense, high-stakes game of rock, paper, scissors for the front seat of Jake’s car. They’re playing best of five and getting ready to begin the third, and possibly final round. Riki has two wins under his belt, it’s not looking good for Jungwon whose breathing has become heavy. He’s taken off his hoodie and is stretching his arms in preparation. 
You start a countdown from three and laugh so hard your stomach starts to hurt when Jungwon throws a losing rock against Riki’s paper, the oldest boy falling to his knees on the pavement and holding his head in his hands. Riki jumps higher than he had on the ice, embracing Jake in a tight hug, overjoyed by the victory while Jungwon groans. 
“Let’s hang out,” Sunghoon says as you walk to his car. 
Squeezing his hand, you nod and try not to melt on the concrete when he opens the car door for you. “What do you normally do after skating?” 
Sunghoon seems to think about your question for a while, tilting his head to the side as a fond smile pulls at the corners of his lips. “My parents would always take me out for dessert after competitions, or the next day if it was too late.” 
“Well, what do you think, Hoon? Is it too late for dessert?” 
Giddy in a way you’ve never seen him, he shakes his head in response. And in his car, he hums along to the radio, gingerly resting his hand on your bare knee. 
Sunghoon takes you to a dessert spot by Chaewon’s house, a fairly popular family-owned establishment that serves her favourite cheesecake. You sink into your seat over the table from him, in a slightly stiff booth with a tall back that makes it seem like it’s just you two and a coffee shop chatter Youtube video playing on a loop. 
“What are you having, baby?” he asks, drumming his fingers against the laminated menu. 
Knowing that Chaewon is coming over later, you let your eyes fall to the ice cream selection, reading the names of all 27 flavours and still settling on the only flavour you ever order here. “Cookie dough,” you say, reaching across the table to point at it on his menu. 
“And?” 
“And nothing.” 
His brows furrow. “You’re only getting ice cream?” 
“I mean, it’ll probably come in a cup, with a spoon,” you say, liking the way Sunghoon laughs at your stupid comment. “Chaewon’s staying over tonight so I don’t wanna fill up too much before dinner. I’ll order some cheesecake to take away when we’re done though, it’s her favourite,” you explain. 
He nods his head. “We can share my tiramisu.” 
It’s only after a conversation with Jake later on that you realise how big of a deal this is.
The two of you only manage to stop chatting and laughing when a girl with a cute bow in her hair and a smile on her face comes to ask if you’re ready to order. Across from you, Sunghoon orders a slice of tiramisu and a 3-scoop cup of coffee-flavoured ice cream. He runs a big hand through his hair and clears his throat, cheeks covered in pink as he asks if it would be okay for us to get a milkshake, to share, so, like, one milkshake, but then with two straws? Her eyes flick between the two of you and she grins, nodding her head but Sunghoon doesn’t go on. 
“A strawberry milkshake, please,” you say, watching the waitress take note of it before saying she’ll be right back. 
More than anyone you’ve ever met, Sunghoon loves tiramisu; he adores it. He lets you take the first spoon, and it’s delicious so you don’t have to fake your reaction when you try it. Sunghoon lights up with childlike excitement as he tries the second spoonful, his eyes widening as he hums around the dessert, shaking his head a little out of genuine enjoyment. 
Surprisingly, he’s able to tell you about the origins of the word (stems from the Italian tira mi su or pick me up), and shares a fond memory of the first time he tried it — he was 9 years old and choked on the cocoa powder on top.  
Sunghoon takes the first sip from the tall glass that sits between you both, you gulp at the sight of his lips wrapping around the straw and need to try it too. Your noses bump a little when you lean in, and, with sweet strawberry coating your tongue, you can’t help but giggle.
As you’d been expecting, your cookie dough ice cream is delicious and after a while, you use your tiny plastic spoon to scrape the sides of your cup and ignore the way Sunghoon laughs at you. Even when he’s mocking you, he still makes your stomach flutter.
“I can get you more if you want,” he offers with a wide smile. 
You shake your head. Sunghoon frowns, watching you collect the last pitiful scrapings before eating them. “You were so pretty today,” you tell him around the spoon.
“Did you think I was ugly before?” 
“Extremely.” His face scrunches up with laughter, showing off his dimple and his fangs. “You must have practised forever,” you add, distracted.
Sunghoon shrugs, reaching his hand across the table to play with your fingers. “In a way I did but not really,” he says vaguely, using his nail to draw a circle in the palm of your hand. “I don’t plan anything for the showcase, it’s just meant for fun, you know? I just go out and do what feels right on the day — so, I guess I’ve been practising for the last 13 years.” 
Completely awestruck, you utter a quiet “wow” and giggle when he pinches your hand. 
“What’re you and Chaewon gonna do later?” he asks, changing the subject.
You let him. At the mention of your best friend, a smile teases at your lips and Sunghoon matches it, beaming sweetly at you, looking forward to what you have to say. “I’m gonna cut her hair.” 
“Really?” Your heart thuds at the genuine interest in his tone. “Do you always cut it for her?”
“No,” you pout. “I’ve never cut anyone’s hair.”
“Not even your own?” Sunghoon laughs when you shake your head. “Wow, she must really trust you.”
It’s your turn to shrug. “We’re best friends.”
“She’s lucky.” 
A chuckle slips out of you and you scrunch your nose. “Me too.” 
When he sees the waitress approaching, Sunghoon stacks your dishes to help out, handing them over to her with a soft smile. “Would we be able to get two slices of cheesecake?” he asks. “To go?”
“Sure, what flavour?”
“Vanilla, please.” 
Eunchae, as you read from her nametag, makes a face, pulling air through her teeth. “The vanilla’s gonna be about an hour wait.” 
Sunghoon pales, looking at you. “That’s alright,” you say, smiling. 
“Is there anything else I can get for you?”
Sunghoon shakes his head, asking only for the bill. The two of you go back and forth on it and you practically beg him to let you pay. You put up a good fight, only backing down because he renders you speechless, shaking his head and saying: I’m not gonna take my girl on a date then make her pay. 
His girl hides her face with her hands, flustered. 
He laughs. 
A beat passes before he stands up, holding a hand out and asking you to go with him to the photo booth. With a smile, you slip your hand into his, allowing him to tug you towards it. Behind the curtain, he wraps his arm around your waist, leaning forward to pay. The two of you agree that you’ll take a set for him to keep and one for you. On the screen, a countdown starts from 4, and you almost feel under pressure. 
Posing for the first picture is a little awkward; you watch as Sunghoon puffs out his cheeks, poking one, and suppress your smile to copy. The second isn’t much better; you both grin and hold up peace signs. As you pose for the third, you can feel Sunghoon’s eyes burning holes in the side of your face, can see him on the screen, staring as you look at yourself ahead but can’t bring yourself to look at him. 
The countdown reaches 2 and he holds you closer. His lips touch your cheek when the screen says 1 and you grin when the picture is taken. Sunghoon’s gaze is soft when you look at him. His hand touches your cheek, heavy on your skin, as he leans in to kiss you. You’ve never been kissed in a photo booth before and your heart beats in the back of your throat when the screen flashes, taking the last photo. 
He sticks his head out of the curtain to collect the 4-cut and cringes a little. “God, we look so stiff in the first two,” he complains. 
“I love them,” you say, taking the photo set from his hand. “They’re perfect.” You mean it. The visible awkwardness that you can feel through the frame is endearing to you, and you like the gradual transition into comfort as the photos progress. 
He looks at you with disbelieving eyes and pays for the next set. 
When you reach your table again, Sunghoon slides into the booth next to you, letting his arm rest over your shoulders, and he’s just as sweet as the tiramisu you tasted on his lips. 
With full bellies and two slices of cheesecake packaged in a pretty yellow box, you head back to his car, where he clips his photo set to the sun visor. You can’t help but lean over the centre console to kiss him again. When you pull away from him, you swear his eyes dart to the backseat, but the moment goes by as quickly as it happens so you must have been imagining things. He drives you home with the radio playing lowly, and his fingers locked with yours. 
On your doorstep, Sunghoon kisses you goodbye, biting at your bottom lip and grabbing your ass. He’s never kissed you like this before. You don’t think you were making things up earlier. “I really like your dress,” he tells you quietly, his lips brushing yours. 
Suddenly nervous, you mumble a thank you. 
“I like everything you wear, but this dress?” Sunghoon pulls away from you, just enough to rake his eyes down your body before holding you close. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, holding your cheek in his palm before kissing you again.  
A few hours later, Chaewon stands on a towel in the bathroom, between you and the mirror while your right hand shakes over a pair of scissors. “Are you sure about this?”
She nods her head. “It doesn’t need to be neat, it just needs to be short,” she assures you, smiling at your reflection in the mirror. Despite only just passing her shoulders, Chaewon’s hair is the longest you think you’ve ever seen it. “I wanted to grow it out, like Kazuha’s, but I hate the way it feels on my skin.” Freshly washed, her hair is just beyond damp and darkening her pink t-shirt. 
You gulp, nervous. “How about you sit down?” 
She nods, saying it’s a good call. 
Chaewon sits on a towel in your bedroom, between you and your full-length mirror while your right hand shakes over a pair of scissors. Before you grab them, you move her hair over her shoulders just so she can tell you once more to give her a chin-length bob. 
She does. You nod. 
Releasing a deep breath you make the first cut, and the sound of the blades slicing through her hair leaves goosebumps forming on your arms. Wet and slightly clumped together, the remaining hair falls from your hold and smacks her ear. You hold your breath as she runs her fingers through it. 
“It’s even!” 
“I only cut one part, Wonie.”
“Yeah, but you did good!” Her eyes meet yours in the mirror and she grins. “Keep going, keep going!” 
The other three sections generate similar reactions, and you keep having to tell her to sit still while you try to trim her hair. 
Chaewon claps her hands when you finish, running her fingers through her “new” bob. “I love it!” she squeals, beaming at your reflection. “It’s perfect.” She turns around on the spot to fling her arms at you, appreciative, wrapping you up in her familiar, soft scent. 
The two of you sit on the couch, as Gossip Girl plays on the TV. For the duration of an entire episode, Chaewon turns her head gently from left to right, her short hair fanning out around her, with a light smile on her face as she does so. You only manage to look away from her when you remember the cheesecake, getting up from your seat abruptly, and excusing yourself. 
As you enter the kitchen, you check your phone, grinning at the sight of a few texts from Sunghoon. You open the fridge as you unlock your phone, clicking on the notification as you take the box of dessert out. Giggles fall out of you at the first message: a cute bed selfie, with his plushy tucked under his arm. 
sh: no way
sh: he smells like you :o
sh: are we seeing each other tmrw? 
sh: (say yes) 
It doesn’t make sense to you that Sunghoon is as cute as he is — you have to put the cheesecake down to relax. 
you: noooooooooo ur so cute
you: i gave him some perfume :o and i’m w wonie tn and tmrw but another time
you: talk later hoonie! 
The sight of the box in your hand makes Chaewon spring out of her seat, covering her mouth with her hands as she does a cute happy dance, prompting you to set the cake down on the coffee table to join her. Tired out, you slump back onto the couch after a while, smiling when she hands over your plate before sitting next to you. 
With a fond smile, you pull your knees to your chest, watching as Chaewon says: You know you love me, xoxo, Gossip Girl, in perfect sync with Kristen Bell. She grins to herself before taking a forkful of cheesecake to her mouth, moaning around the utensil. 
You’ve never known anyone to like dessert as much as her, and a grin forms on its own as you remember the way Sunghoon had done almost the same thing with tiramisu only hours earlier. Being an avid hater of tiramisu, you wonder how Chaewon might react if you told her, before focusing on your slice and the gorgeous face of Leighton Meester. 
The two of you must sit through four episodes, before you sleepily lean into her, telling her she can finish off your piece of cake that she’s been eyeing hungrily since she finished hers approximately 15 Gossip Girl blasts ago. She watches you from the counter while you wash the dishes, thanking you again for the cake. 
Later that night — when she thinks you’re asleep — Chaewon presses a soft kiss to your cheek. “I’ve never had a friend like you before,” she whispers, turning over in bed and grabbing your hand. You don’t know what to do when you hear her sniffling next to you. 
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Salt air and sun cream skate around you — the only things you can smell over the oil soaked chips you share with Chaewon at the beach. Heavy trainers weigh down each corner of the fitted bed sheet underneath you and Chaewon as you watch the wind push clouds through the too-blue sky. Drunk on cider, she laughs to herself, pointing above you. “That one kinda looks like Sunghoon’s friend, right?”
“Which one?” you ask, moving your head to see exactly what she’s pointing at. You’re not sure if you’re asking which friend or which cloud. 
“That one, like Jay.”
Laughter hits you immediately. She’s absolutely right. A triangular mass in the sky leaves you both cackling and rolling around. 
Same as the sand through your fingers, three weeks slip by. You and Sunghoon take more pictures in photo booths and struggle to stop kissing each other. He clasps your necklaces, and puts sunscreen on your back; you hug him from behind and take naps in the park with your head on his chest. Sunghoon makes daisy chains to sit in your hair, and puffy paper stars to fill a jar in your desk. You take his little sister for ice cream and braid her hair when she asks you. 
Tonight however, completely spent from a day of shopping with your mum and Chaewon, the three of you sat on the couch, all eating your bodyweight in cheesecake and crying over the ending of How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days.  
After you’ve all recovered, your mum watches from the car as you hug Chaewon on her doorstep and you fall asleep in the passenger seat on the ride home. No longer small enough to be carried up to your room, you drag your feet to the bed where you fall asleep as soon as your body hits the mattress. But a phone call from Kazuha disrupts your slumber. 
“Are you going to the pool tomorrow?” she asks, sounding alarmingly awake for 4:57 a.m. 
“Tomorrow, today, or tomorrow, tomorrow?” 
“Like,” she pauses, you can picture her running a hand through her hair as she thinks. “In a few hours, I guess.” 
You hum down the phone. 
“We can go together!” The smile in her voice is audible. “Oh, Jay likes YJ. Did I tell you? And fuck, Lee Heeseung is so annoying.” 
“No, he’s not,” you say defensively, slightly rattled by the fact that she woke you up in the middle of the night to shit on your boy’s best friend.
Kazuha scoffs. “Sure.” The line falls quiet for a beat. “He’s not actually annoying, I was just trying to announce that I have a crush on him.” Of course she was. 
“Heeseung seems like a great guy and I’m really happy for you, but let’s talk at the pool, okay?” 
“Talk at the pool!” she chirps, cutting the phone. 
You don’t manage to get back to sleep. 
At the pool, Kazuha says you’re beautiful when you pull your t-shirt over your head and cuts you off before you get to thank her, going on a tangent about how badly she wants to nap but doesn’t want to tan unevenly. Or sleep for too long that her face gets puffy. You take your mission seriously, using your phone to set timers and waking her up each time it goes off despite the way she grumbles at you. 
Riki runs over to tell you to watch him before running away and flipping into the water. Your praise doesn’t seem to get old, but the flips don’t either, each one just as clean and impressive as the ones before. 
Kazuha’s on her 4th rotation when you find yourself wandering over to the concession stand, in the mood for something sweet after being tempted by the scent of baking dough wafting over the pool. But as you get further and further ahead in line, you eventually decide you only want a lollipop, and there are only two people in front of you when you realise you left your phone in your chair and won’t be able to pay.
As if sent from heaven, someone taps you on the shoulder, but you’re met with no one when you look to your left; Sunghoon’s laugh is adorable on the other side of you, contagious when he bumps your hip with his. 
“Hi, baby,” you say, looking up at him. He has a white towel on his head, covering his forehead and tucked behind his ears. “Is there a reason you have this on?” you ask him, touching the damp fabric that sits on his shoulders.  
“What, I’m not allowed to dry my hair?” 
“I’m not allowed to be curious?” 
Sunghoon gently flicks your forehead and you pretend it hurts. 
Like Hannah Montana, he hooks his fingers under the front of the towel, pulling the “wig” off to reveal his luscious (and soaking wet) locks of dark hair. A gasp falls from your lips as your hand flies up to cover your mouth. Having essentially grown up with Sunghoon, or rather, grown up adjacent to Sunghoon, him having black hair isn’t anything new. But it’s definitely something you’re fond of. Fond of him and the way his dark hair only brings out his features, matching his thick brows and the hard lines of his face. 
“Do you like it?” he asks. 
You love it. “What are you gonna do if I don’t?” you ask, pushing some of his hair from his forehead. 
“Buzzcut.” 
With a worried look on his face, he lets you use both hands to cover his hair and imagine it. “Are you laughing because I’m so devastatingly gorgeous with black hair or because I’m about to buzz my head?” Laughter bubbles in your chest, as his hair flops back over his forehead. “Wait, baby, no.” A deep pout settles on his lips. “You actually don’t like it?” 
“I love it, you know I love it.” 
Sunghoon lets you compliment him until you reach the front of the line when he talks with the person on shift. He uses his phone to pay for what you want, and seeing your smiling face on his lock screen makes your cheeks burn while you hide your face in his back, arms locked limply around his waist. 
The two of you only leave the stand when the line behind you builds up, standing in the shade next to it. He watches you unwrap the candy and raises a brow when you hold it out to him. “First lick?”
He shakes his head. 
“Come on, Hoonie,” you tease, letting your hand rest on his arm, liking the way it tenses under your touch. “I know you want a taste.” 
His eyes drop to your chest for a split second, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he lifts his gaze. “You have no idea,” he mumbles before opening his mouth a little, leaning down towards you. His lips are slightly parted and very tempting as they wrap around the lollipop. 
“Good?”
Sunghoon’s eyes lock with yours as he sucks on the candy. “Very,” he says, the word coming out kind of garbled around it before letting you take it back. You watch him chew on his lip, humming to himself at the lingering taste of your lolly. 
The cola flavour hits your tongue immediately and you like the way Sunghoon gulps as he watches you, struggling to maintain the eye contact you’d had a moment earlier. You don’t take nearly as long as he did, pulling the lolly from your lips with a satisfying pop before smiling up at him, sickly sweet. “Very good indeed,” you echo him, letting the candy rest between your lips before you turn to walk away. Sunghoon follows, thankfully. Heading back over to where you’d been sitting, you find Kazuha’s chair empty. 
A shriek over your shoulder locates her like a pin on a map. 
In the pool, you see her sitting on Heeseung’s shoulders cackling as she pushes Sunoo over so hard that Jay, whose shoulders he’s sitting on, falls too. Gleefully, she leans back, falling into the water only to resurface and find her way into Heeseung’s arms. You stop walking when she tilts her head up to kiss him. Oh? Sunghoon walks right into your back. The kiss is short, not much more than a peck really, she pulls away with a grin on her face, swimming to the edge of the pool and Heeseung’s ears turn red as he watches her. 
Against your own, Sunghoon’s skin is warm, slick almost from what you think is a combination of pool water, sweat, and sunscreen. You hate yourself for liking it. His hardening dick presses against you, and your heart swells — some frenzied mix of feeling flattered, and horniness, you assume. A flame burns in your stomach, hot, blue. Neither of you moves for a while, long enough for Kazuha to walk over to your seats and scrunch her hair with a t-shirt. 
Sunghoon exhales shakily when you lean into him, resting the back of your head on his chest and holding the lollipop by the stick. “You okay?” you ask, voice nothing more than a whisper. 
His head dips, breath fanning your neck as he kisses your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles against your skin before standing up straight. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, holding you close. “Do you wanna come over tomorrow?” he asks, words coming out as one. “My family’s on vacation.” His cock twitches against you when he says it. 
“They are?” 
“Mm, they leave tomorrow morning.”
A breathy laugh comes from your nose as you step away from his body, turning around to look at him. Not so subtly, he takes the towel from his shoulder and holds it in his hand, covering himself. A proper laugh falls from your lips, your head tipping back a bit. 
“What if I wanna come today?” you ask, raising a brow. “Tonight even?” 
“Tonight? I can call you if you wanna come tonight.” 
You have a feeling that the two of you are talking about entirely different things.
“Pick me up?” 
“Always.” 
Sunghoon’s bedroom is exceptionally neat. Everything on his desk (his PC set up and a notebook) is placed precisely, and there’s nothing on the floor except for his furniture and a giant 8-ball rug. His off-white walls are completely bare, save for three posters above his desk; your favourite is a handmade (you think) white poster that reads There’s No Planet B in slightly messy block capitals, which sits between blown up pictures of Childish Gambino, and SZA. Underneath the perfectly aligned posters, stuck right above his monitor are the words: Figure skating prince, Park Sunghoon! You’re the best! with a bright red lipstick kiss in the corner; your heart does a triple axel at the sight. 
He stands in the middle of his open doorway like he has been for the past two minutes, watching you admire the medals that sit in a display case on a floating shelf. In 2015 he took home a gold medal from the Lombardia Trophy, and another from the Asian Open Trophy. The two silver medals beside them tell you that he continued to do well at the Asian Open Trophy in the two years that followed.
Along with the Sunghoon you saw today, tiny Sunghoon skates through your mind, so impressive and so young. The quiet boy who often missed class. Who’d fall asleep with his face in a textbook during the classes he did attend. Who you’d let borrow your notes after days of absence, and who wordlessly thanked you with a carton of banana milk each time. How didn’t you know about all of this?  Beyond awestruck by his accomplishments, you look over your shoulder to ask him about it. 
Sunghoon only shrugs. “I was okay.”
“You were okay?” You can’t help but scoff at him. “I’ve seen the videos, Sunghoon. I’ve seen you in person, you’re.. amazing.” The word feels like an understatement. “I don’t know very much about skating but you’re breathtaking.”
“Thank you,” he says, looking at his feet. 
“Have you thought about the Olympics?” you ask seriously. You get ready to apologise when you watch him purse his lips to the side, making you worry you’ve touched a nerve—But Sunghoon speaks before you have the chance. 
“I used to train with the Olympic team but it was too much pressure for me, and I much prefer coaching nowadays, it’s, like, the perfect way for me to feel all the joy of skating and absolutely none of the stress.” The fond smile on his face makes you think he means it.
It almost feels wrong to sit on his neatly made bed but you take a seat on its edge anyway, desperate for one of you to at least look comfortable in this situation. BaMa sits between his pillows and you can’t help but smile at the penguin who stares back at you, unimpressed. Sunghoon stays in place. From where you’re sitting, it’d be difficult to miss the way his eyes widen, stuck on you as he chews on his bottom lip. “Are you okay?” you ask him after a while, starting to feel awkward under his stare. 
For a split second, Sunghoon presses his lips into a straight line that shows his dimple before shrugging. “I’ve never brought a girl to my room before. I don’t know what we’re supposed to do,” he says, fixing his gaze on the wall behind you. 
“The only thing we’re supposed to do is whatever you want. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
Sunghoon looks at you, thinking. “We should kiss,” he blurts out. 
“That’s what you want?”
“Badly.” But he doesn’t move. 
You wait it out a little, counting thirty whole seconds with no sign of movement from him. “How’re you gonna kiss me from over there?” 
A gorgeous grin takes over his face. Sunghoon closes the door behind him, crossing the room in a few paces to sit beside you. With some hesitation he pats his lap, struggling to meet your eyes while he does so. Your insides feel like a shaken bottle of Coke when you straddle him, and you can hear him exhale shakily at the way your dress hitches up, showing off your bare thighs. Sunghoon’s thighs are firm underneath you, his pants soft against your skin. It’s no use trying not to think about riding his thigh or riding him. But try as you might, your efforts don’t stand a chance against the feeling of him hardening under you.
His lips catch yours in a gentle kiss. You can feel the way he smiles, feel a giggle, light, airy, passing from his mouth into yours. It’s hard not to smile too. His fists clench behind you, bunching up the fabric of your dress in his palms desperately. Hard and thick, his cock presses against your core. You moan and Sunghoon all but freezes, his hands releasing your dress.  
Barely a second passes before he grabs you again, leaning back against the bed without breaking the kiss for anything, until you need to catch your breath and you pull away, sitting back in his lap with your hands resting on his toned stomach. You instinctively grind down on him when his cock twitches under you.
From your seat you can see the way his eyes widen when you do, see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat when he gulps. Or maybe the gulp came first; it’s hard to say. Either way, you don’t think you care. He sighs, relieved when you rock your hips against his for a second time. 
Sunghoon looks like sin the third time you do it, groaning and sitting up on his elbows, looking at you through lidded eyes, sighing through pouty lips. “I’m not ready to have sex yet.” 
You freeze in place. “That’s okay.” 
“I’m sorry.” 
“Don’t apologise, there’s nothing to be sorry for. I’m ready when you are.” 
“I just feel bad that you came all the way over here for nothing.”
Looking down at Sunghoon with all of the uncertainty on his face makes your stomach twist. You wish he knew how much you like being with him; like spending time with him. Wish he knew how nice it was to spend the day sitting by the pool and just getting to look at him. How nice it was to eat fruit in the park with him. To talk about nothing on the phone before bed. You rest a hand on his cheek, melting when his fingers wrap around your wrist and his thumb strokes the back of your hand. “Hoon, I’m not here because I wanna have sex with you, I’m here because I like you.” This thing you’ve felt for weeks, lived with and nurtured seems so foreign now that you’ve put it into words. 
The smile on his sweet face almost has you saying it again, and again, if for no other reason than seeing the way his fangs peek out at you, or how his eyes crinkle up into crescents, or hearing how he laughs, breathy, happy.  Sunghoon moves his head to kiss your palm. “I like you,” he says into your skin, mumbling like it’s a secret. “And I like being with you.”  
Even though Sunghoon saying he likes you feels a bit like a toddler telling you they can’t read, the statement shocks you. You knew he liked you, there wasn’t a shadow of a doubt this entire time, but hearing the words, feeling the shape of them against your palm makes his feelings for you seem tangible; so vivid; so thick. Like moisturiser sinking into your pores. 
He moves his head a little so your hand cups his cheek again. He smiles, soft, shy, Sunghoon. “You do.. eventually want that though, right?” The way his brows knit together when he asks is so cute that you can’t help but laugh a little. “Like, to have sex with me,” he adds. 
“Yes, when you’re ready.” 
“I’m ready to do.. other things,” he says, voice dwindling into a shy whisper. 
Curiosity piqued, you arch a brow. “Yeah?” Sunghoon nods. You press on. “Other things like..” 
A beat passes, and Sunghoon doesn’t speak. 
Instead, he opts to pull you down close to his chest, turning the two of you over. My God. His thin silver chain slips out of his shirt, swinging over your face just a bit, his light hair tickles your skin. You think you’d be happy if you died like this. With his bottom lip pinned between his teeth, his eyes scan your face, locking on your parted lips. His fingernail traces shapes on your hip, you immediately notice how blunt it is now compared to yesterday at the pool and can’t help but smile. Sunghoon moves his hand, his fingertips ghosting over your skin until he reaches the top of your panties. 
“Is this okay?” he asks. 
You nod, smiling, eager. You think you might die like this. 
His finger is long and thick, rubbing devastatingly slow circles on your clit through your underwear. Sunghoon puts a little pressure on it, just enough to please you yet still leave you wanting more. He slips a finger into your hole, pressing a kiss to your lips and catching your gasp in his mouth. 
“What got you so wet, baby?” 
There’s something about hearing these words from Sunghoon that makes them sound new, makes them sound fresh; alluring. Makes you want to cum on the spot when you answer. “You did.” Quickly, you learn that the way his lips quirk up into a smile also makes you want to cum on the spot.
You try to focus on the feeling of his tongue on yours, on the loud, wet sound of your lips smacking together, on anything other than how much better one of his fingers feels than two of yours. How much better he fills you up. How quickly he finds your spot and presses on it. A surge of pleasure licks down your spine, causing you to yelp. Kissing becomes hard fast, but if the way he moves his head to your suck lightly at your neck is anything to go by, he doesn’t mind.
He bites and he nips and he kisses the tender skin to soothe you, all while pushing a second finger into you. Time stops at the stretch and you arch your back towards the ceiling. He passes a breathy laugh; calls you cute. Your thighs press together around his hand. 
Leaning up from your skin, he makes a scissor motion with his fingers to work you open, studying the way your eyes screw shut, liking the way you gasp. His head dips back down beside yours, hair tickling your face. You can feel his lips graze your skin, breath fanning your ear. 
“I can’t stop imagining how you might taste,” Sunghoon whispers. “You gonna let me find out?” 
Your dress is bunched up around your waist, and if it wasn’t for all the material, you might have been able to see the trail of spit and love bites that Sunghoon had left on your stomach. You’ll have no choice but to wear one-pieces and full-length shirts for at least a week. There’s a smile on his face as he looks up at you from between your thighs. 
Sunghoon kisses the dark spot on your panties, holding the wet fabric between his lips, tasting you. A quiet moan slips from him, and your body jolts involuntarily, a chill inching up your spine. His fingers hook on the sides of your underwear and he looks up at you, smiling when you nod your head, pulling them down when you lift your hips. With all that material out of the way, he can finally see your pussy, and the word fuck comes tumbling from his lips before he groans. “So pretty, you’re so pretty, YN.”
He buries his face between your thighs to press light kisses to your clit, pecking it sweetly. Your body buzzes from the contact. “Shit,” you sigh at the feeling of him licking a strip from your dripping hole back up to your clit. 
“My God,” he whispers, licking his lips. He presses his tongue against you, lapping up your wetness and humming appreciatively. Sunghoon’s eyes flutter shut when he holds your swollen clit between his lips, sucking on it, licking at it, slowly, passionately, the way he kisses your mouth. His movements make you jolt and he chuckles against you, a delicious vibration running along your cunt.
Unable to fully express how you feel, you settle with saying so good through a whine. A match strikes a flame in your stomach when Sunghoon moves his head down a little, letting his tongue tease your hole, his nose bumps your clit and he moans into you when you clench around the tip of his tongue. You can’t help but grip his hair to hold him in place, hoping he’ll never stop.
Shamelessly, you hump his pretty face as your orgasm quickly approaches, reminding you how long it’s been since you were last eaten out — not that anyone has ever come close to making you feel this good.  
His lips focus on your clit again as he presses a thick finger into your hole, curling it up towards your belly button a few times before adding another. Immediately, your toes curl up, everything flashes white behind your eyelids while your orgasm rips through you and Sunghoon moans when you finish. You’re thankful for the way he slows down, letting your cum slip out onto his lips and chin for a beat before sucking and licking your slit to clean you up, holding you down as you squirm against his sheets from the sensitivity. 
Looking just as spent as you feel, he leans back on his heels. His eyes are blown wide, his chest heaving, and his lips are swollen, glistening in your arousal that’s spread all over the lower part of his face. Spellbound and unblinking, he stares straight ahead at your cunt. 
“Hoon,” you say, breathless, leaning up on your elbows. 
“Yeah, baby?” He doesn’t look away when he speaks. The trance seems to break at your lack of a response and he seems to want to cuddle just as much as you do if the way he scrambles off the floor and crawls over the bed to you is anything to go by.
Save for Sunghoon’s coaching sessions, the two of you are practically joined at the hip for the entire weekend. In the mornings and before bed, you brush your teeth together and don’t even separate to shower, stuffing yourselves in the cubicle to make out and lather shampoo in each other's hair or soap on each other's backs. 
It’s this excess time together that makes waking up to nothing but a note in Sunghoon’s absence so disturbing. His handwriting stirs something in you, the short and sweet: miss you already, please come visit me at work :) 
None of the girls want to go with you, so you find yourself trying on different swimsuits and figuring out what you’ll do at the pool on your own. With four magazines you’ve already read, a book, and your laptop just in case, you make your way there, enjoying the sun on your skin as you walk. 
“Hi!” A chirpy voice makes you flinch when you reach the pool. Sunoo’s whole face is curved into a grin when you look at him. “I’m Sunoo!” he says, extending a hand for you to shake. His grip is firm, not matching his smile at all. “Do you wanna hang out with us?” 
Equal parts excited and scared to say no, you nod. Dumping your bag in a locker, you meet Sunoo out by the changing rooms’ entrance, and he smiles when he sees you. You follow him over to the smaller pool where the rest of the boys are, Sunghoon included, and introduces you. 
The boys look around at one another, wondering if Sunoo knows that all of them have already met you. He doesn’t pay it any mind, jumping in and joining them. They all continue bothering each other while you sit on the edge, dipping your legs into the water. 
Sunghoon, who’s been grinning at you since you arrived, swims over to you and stands in the space between your legs. Cool droplets hit your thighs when he lifts his arms up to wrap around your waist in an embrace that might leave others wondering how many years it’s been since you last saw each other. After promising Jungwon that you won’t make fun of his armbands, you card your fingers through Sunghoon’s wet hair, giggling to yourself when he presses a kiss to your stomach. 
“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” 
“Well, yes,” he says, looking up at you with a pout on his lips. “I’m just on duty at this pool today. Are you unhappy to be spending time with me?” 
“A little.”
Sunghoon pulls you into the water with him. “Even as a joke I don’t like that you said that.” There’s a crease in his brow that you want to kiss away but he’s already calling the boys over when you have the idea. Before you know it, all seven of them are splashing you with so much vigour that you don’t even bother fighting back. Even Riki who’s taken a liking to you shows no mercy.
As much fun as you had, you can’t help but feel a little drained when Sunghoon takes you home at the end of the day. You end up spending the week with him and his friends, and Riki seems crushed when you politely decline his invitation to poker night on Friday but his spirits lift when you say you’ll treat him to ice cream if he wins. On Saturday afternoon when you get out of the shower, you spend the better part of an hour wrapped in your towel texting Sunghoon, grinning at the messages he sent you while you were catching up on the girls’ group chat. 
sh: riki didn’t win anything last night so don’t let him lie to you, ok baby?
sh: plus im kinda mad at him ngl ..
sh: i wanna see u today
sh: only you
sh: need it :( 
sh: if i find out you’re making plans w riki rn i’ll kill him 
sh: babyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy
sh: i miss you can i take you out 
you: why are you beefing a kid ur 500 
sh: you’re older than me ???
you: yes and ur my baby bubu bear 
sh: .. 
sh: picnic baby
sh: ? 
you: yes when
sh: rn.. 
you: uhm..
you: let me go get ready i miss u so bad
Your picnic quickly turns into an evening nap session for Sunghoon who, full on pizza and cider, lays down on his stomach with closed eyes and his cheek on his forearms. Meanwhile, you slowly sip cider from a sun-warmed bottle and pick off bits of pepperoni to eat, knowing Sunghoon will be annoyed about it later. The setting sun shifts the sky through warm oranges and purples, casting its hues over the park and Sunghoon’s sleeping form. 
“Quit watching me,” he mumbles, blinking his eyes open and yawning as he sits back up. Soft hair is all flat on the side he’d been lying on and his lips rest in a pout that, when combined with his eyes resting in a permanent squint, makes him look confused.
You watch with a grin on your face as he sits back on his hands, crossing his legs. “I have something for you, actually.” 
“For me?” you ask, shocked, your brows raise, and butterflies go crazy in your stomach. The thought of Sunghoon seeing something and thinking of you drives you crazy; you’re in way deeper than you could ever have anticipated. 
You hear the bikes whizzing past you, zipping down the cycle path over to your left, you can see the people walking dogs, pushing strollers, jogging, walking. But it still feels like you’re the only people here. The only two people left in the world, sitting on Sunghoon’s blanket in the middle of this park you’ve come to frequent. 
“For you. Do you see anyone else here?” Sunghoon chuckles, though you can see his nervousness peeking through the joy on his face. “Well, kinda for us I guess, to put it properly. You know what? No, it’s dumb. Forget I spoke.” He covers his face with his hands, embarrassed. 
“Something for us?” Even though it’s not a new development, the thought of you both being an us, in any capacity, still makes you giddy, and the butterflies in your stomach are bordering on feral. “Baby, come on. If it’s from you it’s not dumb. I promise I’ll love it.” You nudge his knee gently.
“You promise?” 
“Promise.” Your pinky finds his, linking together for a little while longer than you’d expected. 
“There’s some stuff I have to say first though, is that okay?” he asks, continuing when you nod. “I know you don’t like talking about it, but we should probably have some kind of conversation about what’s going to happen when you go back to uni, you know?” 
The thought of leaving unsettles you; of leaving him, but you’re desperate not to show it. “Yeah,” you say, aiming for calm but hitting upset instead.
Sunghoon chews on his lip before he speaks again. “And you’re happy, right? Like, with me?” 
You nod. Of course, you want to say but the words get caught in your head, how could I not be?
“Good.” Sunghoon smiles. “Because I like you, so much, and I hate the idea of you going back and telling all your friends about the totally awesome, smokin’ hot, mega babe you hooked up with over the summer.” He continues when you nod. “So I’ve been thinking it might be nice if, when your uni friends ask about your summer, and you feel comfortable talking about me, that you tell them about me as your boyfriend.” The uncertainty in his tone doesn’t match the widening grin on his face while speaking, and the word boyfriend comes out as nothing more than a whisper but you hear it clear as day. 
Head spinning, you meet his eyes, a hopeful glint behind them as he watches you. “Do you mean my totally awesome, smokin’ hot, mega babe boyfriend?” 
“It wouldn’t upset me if you said that.” 
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Hold that thought,” he blurts out, opening his backpack. 
Drawing a deep breath, Sunghoon pulls out a pink box with your name written neatly on it before placing it in your lap and asking you to open it. He chews on his lip while he watches. 
WILL YOU BE MY GIRL ? is written on little chocolates that span three rows. The word girl is followed by six empty slots that you can only assume held the word friend. Between the shy look on Sunghoon’s face, and the gesture as a whole your heart leaps jaggedly in your chest. “Will you be my girl?” you read, unable to keep from grinning like a fool.
“I picked them up yesterday before the guys came over, and Riki..” he pauses to sigh, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his neck. “He ate part of them. I think he shared them with Jungwon actually — not that it matters. Anyway, the store’s closed on Sundays so I wasn’t able to replace them or anything, and I didn’t wanna wait any longer to ask,” Sunghoon says in a partial ramble. 
You look down at the pretty pink box in your hands and giggle to yourself. His friends are cute, you think. “I mean, they could’ve eaten the girl part.”
Sunghoon nods his head, grinning. “At least the sentiment still stands.” He eats a raspberry before looking up at you expectantly. “So, will you be my girl?”
With a smile spread on your face, you nod. “Yes, Hoon, I’ll be your girl,” you say, hoping he knows you’ve always been his girl. 
You cuddle in the grass with your boyfriend until the sun goes down, giddy from cider and the joys of summer romance when he walks you to your door. The two of you stand under the light at the doorstep, grinning competitively at one another. Reluctantly, Sunghoon bids you goodnight with a kiss and — just like after your first date — he stands there beaming brightly long after you’ve gone inside. 
A few nights later the two of you have your first sleepover as a couple and Sunghoon seems to take the idea in stride, showing up at your door with an overnight bag stuffed with his skincare, actual pyjamas, and snacks. Plus a bottle of wine he brought for his first meeting with your parents, despite having already had an awkward meeting with your mum at 3 a.m. in the hallway two weeks ago.
With his face glowing under the lamp on your desk, Sunghoon makes a show of bringing up the time he’d talked at length about his friends and says he thinks it only fair that you talk about yours. Your college friends. A blush coats his cheeks when you tell him he doesn’t need an excuse or justification to ask you things he’s curious about. 
This results in him sitting cross-legged on the bed in front of you, asking you silly things like what kind of Youtube videos you like to watch (his ears burn red when you say Park Sunghoon skating compilations), and more serious — to him — things like what your first impression of him was (he covers his face when you say I thought you were the cutest boy I’d ever seen, and it upset me that you missed so much school). 
“Do you think we would’ve dated if I was in school more?” 
“We are dating.” 
“I mean back then.”
“When we were five?” 
Sunghoon nods. 
“Even if we did date back then, we’d have broken up by lunchtime.” 
His jaw drops. “But it’s us,” he says like it’s the simplest thing ever. It takes a while to console your pouting boyfriend but when he moves on he gets back to asking about your friends. 
“They’re like.. the only reason I don’t completely regret picking my major.” The words come out before you can help them. You rarely talk with Sunghoon, or anyone, about your major, never mentioning much more than what results you got or the classes you’re taking if someone asks. 
So it doesn’t surprise you that he sees this as an opportunity to ask you about it. “Why do you hate it so much?” 
“It just makes me unhappy.” You feel your lips sagging at the corners when you finish speaking. “And the thought of working in that field forever, or, at all, makes me feel physically sick.” 
“What are you gonna do after graduation?” 
A tightness occupies your chest. You think about your brother, on the other end of the country, favouring texts over calls so no one has to hear the sadness in his voice when asked about work. You think about the future, all the unknowns awaiting you once you leave the familiarity of the education system. “I don’t.. I don’t know.” You hate how small your voice sounds when you say it.
You don’t even realise that you’re crying until Sunghoon mumbles hey, no, baby, it’s okay, and cups your cheeks with his hands, using his thumbs to wipe your tears. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I’m on your side, okay? You know that. I’m not trying to upset you, baby, just trying to understand. To help.” Wrapping his arms around you, he pulls you into him, letting you cry into his shirt. “If I’m going about it the wrong way you can tell me, I never want to make you cry.” 
For a while the two of you sit in silence while Sunghoon rubs your back and kisses the top of your head, only speaking when you’ve stopped sniffling. “How about you finish telling me about the girls? Minjeong, Jimin, Aeri, and Yizhuo, right?”
You don’t even remember telling him their names, besides maybe mentioning missing Minjeong. “You remember their names.” It’s not a question, not really. When you pull away from him, looking up, your heart snags in your chest at the sight. Of lovely Sunghoon and his small smile, the Kuromi headband holding his hair back. You want to cry again. 
“I remember everything you tell me.” 
Everything about him is lovely, from his soft cheeks to the Piplup pyjama pants he’s wearing and the way he’s looking at you with literal heart eyes. 
Knowing that Sunghoon has his last competition coming up, you savour every second with him. Barely sleeping that night trying to prepare for the lonely nights to come, memorising the feeling of his arms and the steady beat of his heart against your ear. 
His training schedule is rigorous and he’s had to stop his shifts at the pool to accommodate it, committing his days to skating and his nights to you when he can. Though he’s always so tired by the time he gets to your house that he can only sleepily sit through dinner with your parents and falls asleep almost as soon as his head hits the pillow. 
Like most nights you spend apart, Sunghoon’s face fills your screen, talking about what he did that day that kept him from you. Today’s activity was back-to-back coaching sessions, then going to the movies with the boys, and, now, tired out from pretending to be patient, his eyelids are shut for most of the conversation. He looks so warm and cosy under his duvet that you wish you were there with him, or that he was here with you.
“I can come over if you want me to,” he says, and from the way he sits up, you can tell he means it. 
You hadn’t meant for those thoughts to be verbalised.
Looking to your left, at the space in your bed, you don’t trust yourself to be alone with him. Not here. You do want to see him though. Almost desperately. For the good of you both, you shake your head. “Let’s go for a drive?” 
Sunghoon smiles and your stomach turns. “Give me 25 minutes.” He cuts the phone. 
Sitting in the darkness of his car is way worse than having him in your bed. Having started on your knee, his big hand now rests on your thigh, barely an inch away from where your shorts start. A cold sweat breaks out on your skin. Leaning your head against the window, you let your eyes fall shut while Sunghoon sings SZA quietly. Eventually, the car comes to a stop.
“We’re here.” 
It’s too dark out to see anything properly until Sunghoon opens your door for you. “The park,” you say, looking around at the now familiar street. “Wouldn’t be my first choice for a murder.”  
“If you think about it, it’s sorta perfect. Who would hear you screaming for help at 2 a.m. on a Wednesday?”
Sunghoon pulls his backpack and a fleecy blanket from the backseat, and, with a ridiculous grin, you watch him put the blanket down in the grass, not too far from where he’d parked the car. You leave your sandals to the side and sit down next to him. 
“The store was closed, so we’ll have to deal,” he explains, taking out some fruit and two bottles of water. 
You shake your head. “It’s perfect.” 
Sunghoon lets you feed him strawberries, humming appreciatively around your fingers. You take a few sips of water before shifting on the blanket, turning around in the space between Sunghoon’s open legs and leaning back on his chest. He hums the same SZA song from his car and you can’t help but close your eyes. 
You tip your chin to kiss him, accidentally letting your hand rest on his lap. 
Ever since that day in his room, things between you have found a way to turn sexual after a while. Not that either of you seems to mind. Though you will admit that sometimes it is nice to just sit with Sunghoon and watch the sun come up over the hills by his house. Or to watch Mighty Ducks on your laptop with your head on his shoulder. 
Tonight doesn’t seem like one of those “sometimes”, but you really can’t find it in you to complain or want to change anything when he slips his hand down the front of your shorts. More focused on the way your lips feel on his, Sunghoon lazily runs his finger through your slick for a beat before pushing into you and smiling to himself as you gasp against the kiss. 
You pull away from him, shifting around a little, trying to angle yourself so you can see what you’re doing when you tug his waistband out of the way. The sight of Sunghoon’s cock, of his pretty tip coated in precum that dribbles from his slit down his shaft never gets old. If anything, it only turns you on more and more each time. You stroke him slowly, occasionally letting a finger tease the spot below his head, just the way he likes it.
“Oh, my G—” Sunghoon cuts himself off with a groan, pressing his lips to yours again.
The breeze tickles your arms, keeping you cool despite the way your skin burns under his touch. He’s close to cumming, you can tell in the way his cock twitches in your hold.
“I want you,” he mumbles against your lips. 
“You have me.” Sunghoon lifts his head away from yours after you speak, looking down his nose at you. It seems like he’s searching your face for something as he pushes a third finger into your hole. Something clicks in your head, understanding. “Fuck me,” you say, barely short of begging.
His hips buck up into your still hand. “I don’t have a condom.” 
“You’re joking.” 
“No,” he sighs, shaking his head solemnly. “I wish.” A frown teases at your lips. “Why didn’t you bring one?”
You arch a brow. “Why would I bring a condom when we’re waiting to have sex?” 
“Because I don’t wanna wait anymore.” 
“Ok,” you nod, trying to think as he separates his fingers. “Well, this is.. this is me finding that out, right now.”
Sunghoon’s never put a fourth finger in you before; it’s a tight fit. Your head falls back and you give up your poor attempt at continuing to jerk him off. “I don’t care if you don’t. About condoms.” 
“Oh, you’re on the pill?” 
“I ran out two weeks ago, I thought.. you’d give me—” A moan cuts you off. Sunghoon chuckles. “I thought you’d give me notice or something.” 
“Notice?” he asks, voice high, incredulous. A beat passes. “I don’t care,” he says eventually. “I need you.” 
You nod your head, relieved. Whining a little when Sunghoon pulls his hand out of you, and whining a lot when he sucks on each of his fingers, one at a time. “I’ll get Plan B in the morning,” you say, scrambling to your knees, facing him. 
“We’ll go together.” A soft smile spreads across his lips as he holds you by the waist. “And I’ll ask Jake to pray for us.”
Hungrily, you watch as he pulls his white t-shirt over his head. There’s a flash of something in his eyes. Sunghoon has a firm grip on your shorts, barely a second away from yanking them off when he stops, leaning away. “I’ve never..” he trails off, struggling to hold eye contact. “I’ve had sex just not.. outside,” he whispers, his lips pouting through his words.
Despite your desperation, you can’t help but feel like maybe this shouldn’t be the moment you two have sex for the first time. You almost can’t believe yourself, having Sunghoon here, hot, sweaty, with his kiss-plumped lips, and lidded eyes; his groans, and his sighs; his wandering hands and hard cock pressed against you, yet thinking that maybe you should wait a little longer. 
“We don’t have to do this now.” 
“I do.”
“Okay,” you whisper, relieved, pressing your lips onto his. You shiver in Sunghoon’s hold, cold and chasing his kiss when he pulls away, shuddering at the feeling of his fingertip grazing your collarbone. 
“You’re cold, baby.” 
You shake your head. “I’m not.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, your body betrays you and your teeth chatter. 
Sunghoon frowns at you, playing with some of your hair beside your ear. “You have goosebumps, and your teeth are clattering. I’ll take you home, come on,” he says, letting go of you. 
“I have goosebumps because I’m horny, and I want you to fuck me,” you admit, feeling your need for him in every part of your body. “And I don’t want you to be nice about it either, I’m already your girlfriend.” 
You watch him gulp. Sunghoon’s eyes scan your face. He leans into your touch when you let your palm cup his cheek, his skin is burning hot, if it was any lighter outside you might have been able to see the pink on his face. He wraps his thick fingers around your wrist, letting his thumb stroke the back of your hand, and his pretty eyes find yours. 
“I want to, so bad, but you’re freezing.” He kisses your palm. “How about I take you home and fuck you there, hmm? I won’t be nice, I promise.” 
Oh, God, you think, clenching around nothing. 
Dazed, you almost agree until something clicks. “Take this off,” you say, practically begging as you tug at his knitted hoodie. His brows knit together. “Let me wear it.” Without hesitation, Sunghoon pulls the jumper over his head and slips it over you. “Please, Hoon,” you all but beg, as you put your arms through it. 
The two of you are close enough that you can see his pupils dilating as his eyes trail over your body. “I like my clothes on you.” Is the only thing he says before kissing you again.
Sunghoon’s hands are all over you, eventually settling on the top of your shorts, as he does his best to tug them off. You raise your hips to help him out before settling back into his lap, whining at the feeling of him under you, touching your pussy for the first time. He throbs against you when you grind down on him.
It all seems so real now. He’s so big; so hard, that you start to worry. Suddenly you remember the ache in your jaw every time you suck him off and how much of him is left over, even when his head inches its way down your throat.
Flustered, you start to stall a little, rocking back and forth on his length, coating him in your wetness. You take him in your hand after a while, jerking him a little to spread his precum and your slick all over him. He doesn’t seem to notice that you’re whiling up time, and if he does, then he doesn’t seem to care, simply moaning when you lift yourself off of him to stroke your clit with his tip and tease your slit. 
Sunghoon’s teeth worry his bottom lip as you try to take him, his head falling forward, eyes trained on the spot between your bodies where you connect. His hold on your waist is so firm you can practically feel bruises forming under his fingertips and the sting of his cock pushing into you makes you draw a breath. “Just take your time, yeah?” he mumbles. “No rush.” 
No rush? you think, he must be crazy. You don’t think you can wait any longer, trying hard to sink down on him despite the pain of the stretch. You like it, that sting, the heat, you don’t want to go without it ever again. You must be crazy. Fuck, and Sunghoon are the only things you can bring yourself to say.
“I know, baby. I’m sorry,” he tells you. “It’s okay,” he says, though he doesn’t look like he’s doing any better than you are. 
Sunghoon’s head falls forward once you’ve taken all of him, his teeth sinking into the skin at the base of your neck as he lets out a broken whine. Everything feels a little too much to bear. It’s so hot, when did it get so hot? With the last few crumbs of your brain power, you tell yourself to take the hoodie off, but you feel like you can’t move. 
He fits so well, fills you up just right. 
With a shaky breath, he lifts his head to look up at you. “So beautiful.” Sunghoon pushes some of your hair from your face. “Good girl,” he coos, using his thumb to wipe tears you hadn’t even realised were there. “You’re doing such a good job, baby. Taking me so good.”
Sunghoon asks if you’re okay. It sounds like Sunghoon asks if you’re okay.
Your fist balls around the fabric of his cotton shirt. “Warm,” you whisper. “Too warm.” He loosens his grip around your waist, moving his hands to your hips to pull the hoodie off of you. You lean back a little to let him take it off and feel as if you’re being split open, the angle only pushing him deeper. 
With the hoodie off, the cool summer breeze makes you feel a lot better; makes taking him a lot more manageable. So you move. His pretty face scrunches with pleasure, as a long, heady groan comes from his throat. “You feel so good. So tight.” There’s something in his voice that you don’t recognise, desperation, need. Sweat beads along his hairline, the flush in his cheeks so prominent you can see it despite the dark. 
You want to see him like this all the time. Need to.
His hips buck up towards you, seeming to catch you both off guard if the way you gasp simultaneously is anything to go by. He wraps his arm around your waist, his trembling hand beating against your skin, and lets his other hand rest on the blanket behind him, leaning back on it. 
“You’re so good at this,” you sigh. “How are you so good at this?” You practically clamp your mouth shut, not letting yourself say any more lest you propose to him, or worse, expose your breeding kink.
Sunghoon only gives you a languid smile before kissing you. 
It’s more than a little hard to focus on coordinating the movement of your lips and tongue when he’s fucking you the way he is; lifting you off of him so only his tip stays inside, then thrusting all the way back in, deep and slow, trying to feel every single part of you and doing a good job hitting that spot that has you seeing stars. So the kiss is messy and loud, an exchange of spit and moans but you’re way too turned on to care. 
Before long, he uses his hand to pull down the front of your vest, attaching his wet mouth to your nipple instead and your brain short circuits. He moans into your skin when you clench around him, his body stuttering under you.
“Baby, I don’t..” Sunghoon sighs, lifting his head from your chest to look at you. He’s the picture of desire, of lust, with his messy hair and parted lips, the sweat slipping from his brow bone. “I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer,” he admits, thick brows pulled into a furrow.
At this rate, you don’t think you will either. His words only make you dizzy, they spur you on as desperation sets in; to see him cum, to feel it. Like always, his sounds are just as pretty as the rest of him, his grunts and his groans, and the ragged breaths that catch in his throat. And you quiver in his lap at the feeling of a knot forming in your stomach, immediately unravelling when his finger catches your clit again. 
Your head falls back. “I’m—” Is the only thing you can say.
“I know, baby, don’t hold back. I wanna see you make a mess.” 
His words send you over the edge, forcing your orgasm out of you while Sunghoon moans and fucks you through it. So good, baby, he mumbles over and over, stuttering through the words when you cum, though you barely hear him over the sound of his cock squelching up into you. 
A shaky breath and the word fuck tumbles from his lips. 
Sunghoon’s thighs tense and his stomach does the same. Shuddering under you, he cums hard, filling you up completely. You’ve never had a guy cum inside before, let alone been fucked without a condom, so you weren’t sure what to expect. But nothing could have prepared you for this. 
Heat courses through you everywhere, and you’ve never been so warm in your life. You can feel every last drop of his hot cum spilling into you, can feel it leaking out around him, slicking up your thighs. Shaking in Sunghoon’s lap, you’re full in the best way, eyes rolling back as your mind goes completely blank. 
Both of you try to catch your breath as he holds onto you tightly, his arms hugging around your waist. You’re having a hard time calming down with him still inside, but you don’t think you could move if you tried, and it seems as though he feels the same, only being able to bring his head away from your chest. With heaving shoulders and a dazed look in his eyes, he smiles up at you, sweet, contagious. Drunk on him, a laugh starts to bubble in your throat, forcing its way out. Sunghoon laughs too, and breathy chuckles slip from you both, happy, delighted. 
He reaches for some napkins, cleaning up what he can with you still in his lap before reaching for his hoodie. You watch as he folds it up a couple of times before putting it down near the blanket’s edge, shifting over a bit to hold you in his arms and lay you down, the hoodie under your head like a pillow. 
You think he must be an angel. 
Gently, he separates your legs to clean you up properly before pulling his boxers and shorts back up. You watch as he looks around the space for something, returning to your feet to help you put your underwear and shorts back on, sniffling a little and making his way to lie down on the grass beside you. Sunghoon reaches over your body and uses the remaining blanket behind you to cover you up. 
Sleepily, you rest your head on his chest, feeling his heart race against your cheek. “You’re so big, Hoon,” you whisper, mind still reeling. 
A beat passes. “Ok, baby, thank you,” he says a little awkwardly, you can feel his chest stutter as he chuckles and you can’t help but smile.
The stars above you beam brightly and you don’t think you’ve ever seen so many at once, peeking through the few dark clouds that drag lazily through the sky.
“You did so well tonight, YN,” Sunghoon tells you after a while. “You always do so well.” Your heart beats in your throat as he kisses the top of your head.
“Really?” 
“Mm,” he hums.
Curious, you look up at him. “What did I do well?” 
“Should I fill out a performance review?” 
“I just wanna know what you’re gonna tell your friends later.” Your heart rate picks up when Sunghoon laughs, sweet, contagious. “I’m serious.”
Into the air above, he huffs a long, dramatic sigh. “You really wanna know?”
“Desperately.”
He leans up on his elbow, looking down at you. Butterflies flutter in your stomach, already nervous about what Sunghoon might say. It’s as if he’s the only person in the world, the only one that makes a difference. You can’t help but feel special under his gaze, grateful that you’re the one who gets his attention. His hand is big on the side of your face, his thumb grazes your cheek. 
Sunghoon opens his mouth but closes it before speaking, then brilliant, bright, he smiles. “I think I’m gonna tell them I’m in love with you.” Your breath hitches in your throat. “And, ask Jake to pray for us.” 
And, ask Jake to pray for us, you repeat as if bound by a spell and he nods his head. Overwhelmed, you hide your face in his shirt. “I love you.” 
Back at your place, Sunghoon does a good job of living up to what he’d promised you earlier. Leaving you to wake up that morning in his t-shirt, with your head on his chest and a dull ache between your thighs — though not before, for the first time since primary school, you (and Sunghoon) kneeled by the side of the bed to perform the sign of the cross. He’d stumbled his way through a prayer first and you followed, watching as he sent a text to Jake before eventually drifting off to sleep, tired and sore.
The duvet is bunched at the bottom of the bed, leaving your bare thighs victim to the light breeze rolling through your room. Sunghoon’s mouth is slightly ajar and he snores sweetly. Even in his sleep, his stomach is tight and his soft penis rests cute and limp against his thigh in a way that leaves you stifling a giggle. You want to kiss it. 
Regrettably, you don’t.
“Stop looking at me,” he mumbles, half-heartedly lifting his arm to cover your eyes, though, with his still shut, it ends up resting on your neck.
“I’m not.” 
Sunghoon pries open one of his eyes, catching you. He follows your gaze down his body, groaning when he realises what you’re looking at. “You’re worse than I thought,” he says, sitting up to pull your duvet back over himself, resting over his waist. “I’m never sleeping naked next to you again.” 
You open your mouth to quiz him but he covers your lips with his hand. “Or anyone else, relax.” 
“Good boy,” you mumble, the words muffled against his palm. 
“Ew,” he whispers when you lick his hand, wiping it on your t-shirt before pushing some of your hair away from your face. “How are you feeling, baby?” His voice is soft when he asks, eyes scanning your face for even the slightest sign of discomfort.
“I’m kinda sore, but I’m good.” 
“You are?” There’s pride in his voice when he asks, eyes lighting up for a beat before pressing his lips together, trying to hide a smile. His broad shoulders betray him, trembling with silent laughter. Fuck off, you mumble, just as amused as him. 
Sunghoon clears his throat. “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers. “I’ll be gentle next time, promise.” 
Next time. The simple words and all of their hopefulness leave your mind reeling. Laying next to Sunghoon, you grin at the thought of all of your next times with him. Through the seasons of the year; through autumn; through winter, spring, and back to summer again. 
“What’s on your mind?” he asks through a yawn. 
You love him. “I love you.” 
You’re expecting him to kiss you when he starts to lean in, but he pulls you tight against his chest instead. He smells faintly like sweat when he hugs you. Like sweat, and sunblock, and peonies. Like kisses during sunset, and late-night swims. Like the happiest you’ve been in a long, long while. 
“I love you, more.”
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© zreamy (2023), all rights reserved. do not repost, translate, or plagiarise my work. do let my know your thoughts !
permanent taglist: @asahicore
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abbyromanoff · 5 months
Note
could u do a golden retriever/black cat dynamic with maria or nat, where R is the golden retriever so everyone assumes they’re the bottom, but its actually the complete opposite?
GOLDEN GIRL
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PAIRINGS: Maria Hill x reader
WORD COUNT: 859
WARNINGS: smut, car sex, bottom!reader, subspace, Mommy (M), if yall can’t tell i have mommy and daddy issues with the amount of mommy/daddy kinks i write, innocent!R, fingering, pet play, public sex, cunnilingus, making out, dirtbag!Maria, praise kink, degrading kink, kinda dumbficfation, think that’s all :)
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!
I COMPLETELY FORGOT TO MAKE IT BOTTOM!MARIA 😭😭 MY NEXT MARIA FIC WILL MAKE UP FOR IT ANON I PROMISE
“Are you sure about this?” You sat on the woman’s lap, nervous glances being sent each way. Her hand came to your cheek, her thumb rubbing small, gentle circles to ease your fear.
“Of course, my love. I promise you, no one’s going to see us.” The car had tinted windows, blocking anyone’s insight but gifting you the ability to see anyone nearby.
“But my parents-“
“They won’t notice you’re gone, okay? We won’t get caught.” You hesitantly agreed, sucking in a breath as you allowed her to guide your hips against her waist. Her jeans teased your covered cunt, the cold, metal button sending shocks through your body and causing you to whimper. Your grip fell upon her shoulders, your panties being pushed to the side by Maria’s wandering fingers.
“Pinky promise?” She linked her pinky with yours, kissing the tip before doing the same to your lips, leaving you with a goofy grin and cheeks bright red.
“Pinky promise.” You trailed your hands down, asking for permission with your eyes before you dipped your hands beneath her shirt, cupping her breasts and choking out a moan as her thumb pressed against your clit. She smirked, leaning forward as she connected her chapped lips with the skin of your neck, creating a suction that left dark markings along the area, and she knew you’d whine and groan about it later on. If your parents saw, they’d kill her. They never liked her in general, many people don’t, but knowing she was having sex with their child and ruining their sweet doves' innocence would only cause harsher amounts of bile in their throats.
“Did that feel good?” She asked when receiving a loud moan, your lips parting as your hips sped up. Her fingers teased your hole, dipping in and out in anticipation that riled you up.
“Mhm!” You bit your tongue to silence the threatening sound, but she wasn’t having it.
“No, baby, I want to hear you.” You threw your head back, but she slowly eased you forward by your chin, and your gaze soon met her hazy one. The windows began to blur along with your mind, and drool trailed on your lip.
“Awh, has my puppy gone dumb already? I thought you were my smart little mutt, I guess I was wrong.” You shook your head quickly. She hissed as you tugged on her nipples accidentally, but you barely even noticed.
“No, I-I’m ‘mart, Mommy.” She hummed, and you could tell she didn’t believe you. You stuffed your head in her neck, sniffing her sweet scent with a smile.
“Mommy’s dumb pup, huh? Is that what you are, sweetheart?” You sniffled and shook your head once again, whimpering as two fingers slowly eased into you. You mumbled out your denial, but she only chuckled your way.
“Shh, just bounce on Mommy’s fingers.” You did as told, whispering incoherent pleas as she added a third finger. She shushed you every time you tried to speak, insisting you weren’t of the intelligence level to form a functional thought.
“M-Mommy- g’nna…cum.” You told her, earning a pout of her lips in response. She pulled on your hair, forming a ponytail as she did so. Allowing your head to loll back as she kissed her way up to your ear, nibbling softly on the skin as she spoke,
“You better not fucking cum. Only I can give you permission, got that?” You nodded slowly, crying out with a pained sob as she forced you to ride her faster. She repeatedly hit your g-spot, and you could’ve screamed from the large amount of pleasure she gifted you.
“You think you can decide that on your own, hm? You think Mommy doesn’t matter anymore?”
“No, Mommy, I- I didn’t me-mean to-“
“You don’t need Mommy’s help anymore, is that it? Are you suddenly a big girl, you can think on your own?” You fought the coil building in your stomach with hopes of her approval.
“I-I need you, I do! I nee’ yo’ so b-bad, Mommy!” She chuckled darkly, letting go of your hair and interlacing a hand with yours. She slowly eased you off of her, and you whined pitifully as a result. She guided you to rest on the floor, her body towering over yours as she sat in front of you.
“That’s it, good girl.” She dragged out the praise. “Now, get to work, we don’t have all night.” She guided your face to her now bare skin and your lips met her clit in an urgent manner, desperate to feel her cum all over you.
You were unable to notice the camera aiming in your direction, or the crowd erupting out of the doors that you were parked in front of. But she did. She noticed everything, but she denied letting you do the same. But that was okay, you’d do anything she wanted. It was only fair for how well she took care of and protected you. After all, she was your Mommy, she’d go to any extent to keep you safe, and you’d go to any extent to make her as happy as you could.
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atlafan · 4 months
Note
20 & 28 from the prompt list pls!
20. “I’m gonna fuck you so good you forget all about that bastard.”
28. “I love that we both already finished and your legs are still shaking.”
smut prompts
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“He did what?” Harry’s jaw fell open as his dear friend, Y/N, told him about why she was newly single.
“He accepted a job across the country and expected me to drop everything to go with him! He didn’t even tell me he was looking for other opportunities. I mean, it’s a big step up for him, but to assume I’d quit my own job to go play house with him??? My whole family is here. I’d be sick to my stomach knowing I couldn’t see my nephews as regularly as I do now.” She sighed heavily and looked at her friend. “Can I crash here for a few days? If I go back to my place, I know he’ll show up and try to convince me to go with him again.”
“So, it’s over, just like that?”
“Yup. I’m not sabotaging my own career for a man. We’re clearly on different wave lengths, I guess it’s better to find out now.”
“I’m sorry, Y/N. Of course you can stay with me. Stay as long as you like.”
“Thank you.” She wraps her arms around his neck and sighs. “You’re such a good friend.”
Harry’s been waiting for Y/N and her boyfriend to break up for ages. He’s not one of those guys who’s only friends with a girl because he wants it to lead to more. That would be shitty of him. But he and Y/N have been friends for a while now, and as years have gone by, he’s started looking at her differently. A tiny crush started to bloom. He noticed how her laugh made him feel and how her smile gave him butterflies. It was gradual, natural. But he wasn’t sure how to bring this up to her, and there was never a good time. She was in a relationship, and he assumed she was happy, so he never let on about his feelings.
But now, Y/N is single. Harry’s not going to pounce on her right away. He knows she’ll need time to grieve the loss of her relationship. He also doesn’t want her to think he’s taking advantage of the vulnerable state she’s in. So, he’ll continue being the good friend that he is, and when the time is right, he’ll tell her how he feels.
//
Y/N was never one to wear her heart on her sleeve. She didn’t cry in public. She wanted people to think she was fine at all times. But after a month or so of being single, she found herself moping around a lot. She thought about her ex all the time. She hated it, but it was hard not to think of him. She wanted to know how his new job was going because she still cared. But then she’d remind herself that he probably doesn’t care how she’s doing, and then she’d distract herself with something to do.
Then, on a random Tuesday, two months later, a mutual friend sent her a message saying her ex was in a new relationship. He was posting her on main, laughing and smiling.
And that’s when Y/N finally cracked. She cried. She cried her eyes out until they were swollen and puffy. She couldn’t sleep when she tried to go to bed, so she texted Harry and asked if she could come over. He said yes.
“I don’t even know why I care.” She groaned as she told him about the ordeal. “How are men able to move on so quickly? I think about him every day. He always crosses my mind. I’m not even doing it on purpose. He probably never thinks about me.”
“He probably thinks about you all the time and started dating again to fill the void. That’s what I would do if I fucked up as badly as he did.”
“You know what bugs me the most? I have confirmation that he’s having sex. Someone else is giving him orgasms when all I’ve had for the last three months are my own hands and my vibrator. I’m too scared to meet some random dude from an app. I’m losing my mind, Harry. I feel like a feral cat in heat.” She chugs some water and takes a deep breath.
“You’re that horny, huh?”
“You have no idea. Masturbating and watching porn is fun and all, don’t get me wrong, but after a while it’s not exactly exciting. Feels like a chore.”
“I’m going to propose something, and I really want you to think about it before you decide it isn’t a good idea.” He runs a hand through his hair. “What if we had sex?”
“We, like, you and I?”
“Yeah.”
“No offense, but the idea of being pity fucked by my friend isn’t exactly getting my panties wet.”
“It’s not a pity fuck. Don’t be mad, but I’ve wanted to have sex with you for a very long time.”
“Great, so you’ve only been friends with me-“
“Don’t even go there because it’s not like that. We’ve been friends for five years. The last two, you were dating that asshole. A crush sort of snuck up on me around the time you and him started dating. I felt weirdly jealous every time you’d blow our friend group off to go be with him. And when I really thought about why, I realized that it was because I liked you as more than a friend.”
“You’ve liked me for two years?”
“Yeah.”
“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
“You were in love with him. I didn’t want to get in the way of your happiness. I’m fine if we just stay friends. I want you in my life, I don’t care how.”
“Why didn’t you make a move right after we broke up?”
“Other than not wanting to be your rebound, I knew you just needed a friend. You were vulnerable, I couldn’t take advantage of that.”
“You’d really want to fuck so quickly? Don’t you want to take me out on a date first?”
“You’re not the only one who feels feral, Y/N.”
“I can’t believe how stupid and oblivious I am.” She slides her hands down her face. “You’re a great guy, I’d be lucky to date you. My family already adores you. We practically go on dates all the time as it is.” She facepalms, then looks at him. “You really would fuck me right now?”
“Yes. Do…are you even attracted to me…sexually?”
“Harry, you’re the prettiest guy I’ve ever seen. Of course I’m attracted to you.”
“How would I have known that?! I’m not a mind reader!”
“Don’t raise your voice at me, I’m sad!”
“You’ve been sad for three goddamn months.” He steps towards her, backing her up to the sink counter, caging her in. “And I’m over it. I’m gonna fuck you so good you forget all about that bastard.”
“Oh, wow.” Her eyelids become hooded as she looks at him. “Yes.” She nods. “Please, I want that. I want you to fuck me, Harry.”
“Good. Jump.”
She puts her hands on his shoulders and jumps so she can wrap her legs around his waist. Harry’s mouth crashes to hers as he carries her to his bedroom. Y/N feels lightheaded as he lays her down, staying on top of her. Her fingers squeeze at his hair as she licks into his mouth. He tastes like mint, and it makes her moan. His hands slide up under her shirt, pawing at her breasts over her bra.
“Fuck, just take it off. Take it all off.” She whines, and he smirks down at her.
“Look who’s all eager all of a sudden.” He sits up and takes his own shirt off. Before he can reach for Y/N’s, she’s tackling him down and sponging kisses to his chest. Her tongue glides down over his butterfly tattoo. She inches further down until she’s nosing at his erection over his joggers. “I’m supposed to be taking care of you.”
“Don’t care, want it.” She tucks her fingers into the waistband of his joggers and looks up at him. “Can I?”
“Yes.”
He lifts his hips to help her and she gets the garment off. She kisses him over his briefs and licks his tip through the material. She even takes it into her mouth like this, and it rips a moan from Harry’s throat. Her eyes snap to his, completely blown out.
“God, I should have known you were vocal.” She whimpers. She tugs his briefs down and wastes no time getting the head of Harry’s cock into her mouth. She runs her tongue over his slit and suckles on the blurts of precome oozing out. She wraps her hand around him and slides her mouth off. “Jesus, you’re so big. I’m gonna see if I can get it down my throat.”
“You don’t have to, what you did before felt great.” He runs a hand through her hair and whimpers again.
“No, I want to choke on it. I really like giving head.”
“That’s something we have in common.” He smirks.
She spits onto his tip and takes him back into her mouth. She doesn’t go slow, she goes down fast and chokes, then pulls off, spitting on him to make it wet and messy, then she repeats. She does it until her throat can handle keeping him there for a moment. She swallows around him a few times before coming off and pumping him with her hand.
“Do you want to come in my mouth?”
“Are you gonna be a good girl and swallow it?”
“Fuck, and you’re kinky?! Should’ve done this a long time ago, Harry.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Yes, I’ll swallow it.”
“Then go on and take it.”
She’s not pretty about it. She chokes and gags and sucks and bobs until Harry’s spurting rope after rope down her throat. He sits up after she pulls off and slots his mouth over hers. He grips the hem of her short and lifts it off. She unhooks her bra and lays back on the bed. Her back arches the second Harry’s tongue is circling her nipple.
“Best tits I’ve ever fucking seen.” He growls as he works his way to her other nipple. “So big and soft.”
“You don’t mind that they’re not all perky?”
“Why would I? A boob is a boob is a boob.” He sucks a good amount of one into his mouth, leaving marks from his teeth on her sensitive skin. He kisses down her stomach and hooks his fingers into the waistband of her leggings. “Can I take these off?”
“Yes.” She smiles softly. “And my panties too, please. I don’t like the feeling of sitting in my cold, wetness.”
“Heard.” He pulls both of the garments off and tosses them to the floor before splitting her thighs open. She’s glistening for him. He wells up some spit and watches it fall on and down her slit. “So fucking pretty.”
He spreads her lips apart, running his fingers through her sticky folds. His thumbs spread apart the top so he can find her clit. He taps on it with his finger, making her gasp.
“Did I find it, baby?” It’s rhetorical because before she can answer, his licking over it.
He wraps his lips around it and sucks hard, rapidly. He flicks the tip of his tongue over it, swirls it around, spits on it, then goes back to sucking. The sounds are wet and obscene. Y/N has a hand stuffed in his hair while the other clutches at the sheets. She moans out when she feels his middle finger sink inside her.
“So fucking tight.” He groans.
“I can take another, please, wanna feel you stretch me out.”
Harry grins and lets his ring finger join the middle. He works them in and out of her, wanting to prep her hole for what’s to come. Then he lets them stay deep inside and curls them to her front wall as he shallowly thrusts in and out. He gets his mouth back on her clit and uses his free hand to keep her thigh down and open.
“Fuck, just like that.” Her head rolls back and her mouth hangs open as she rolls her hips forward to meet his thrusts. “Harry, shit, you’re so good. Don’t stop.” Her toes start curling and her legs start shaking, and Harry laughs so sinisterly low that it makes her head dizzy. One of her heels digs into his shoulder blade. She’s panting and moaning and writing under him. “Oh, oh fuck.” She feels the coil deep in her belly about to snap. “Oh, fuck, I’m gonna come, don’t stop.” The bed starts creaking and the headboard starts thudding against the wall. Harry’s rutting his hips into the mattress and moaning into her. “Harry, Harry, Harryyyyyy, fuck, I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming.” Her back arches off the bed as she lets go. Harry fucks her through it, keeping his fingers deep inside her. He gives her throbbing clit a break, then slowly takes his fingers out when he hears her breathing evening out.
He sucks his fingers into his mouth, and his surprised when Y/N grips his jaw to pull him down to her. He takes his fingers out and replaces them with her mouth. They moan against each other, both relishing in the filthy kiss.
“Do you want to keep going?” He asks.
“Are you hard again?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s some good stamina.” She smirks.
“Eating you out made me hard again. Taste so fucking good.” He reaches into his side table drawer and pulls out a foil packet. He sits back on his feet and rips it open to roll onto his cock.
“Do you mind if I play the role of a pillow princess? Kind of want you to just do what you want with me.”
“Yeah? Does being used turn you on?”
“Like this…by you…it does.”
“This might hurt a little since it’s been a while for you. If you need me to stop, just tell me and I will.”
“Okay.”
Harry lines himself up and slowly pushes inside. Y/N bites into his shoulder. The stretch burns, but the pain soon turns to pleasure once he’s all the way in. His tip is already nudging into her g-spot.
“Good?” He asks.
“Yes, thank you. You can move.”
He pulls out about halfway before thrusting back in. Y/N is so sweet for him, he slips out a couple of times before he can get a rhythm going. He sits up and throws her legs over his shoulders, pounding into her. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room. She raises her hips and starts moaning uncontrollably. The angle is perfect. He thumbs at her clit, and her nails dig into the meat of his thighs.
“I’m getting close.” She twitches under him, wanting to close her legs to get some relief, but she can’t. “Please, don’t stop.” She whimpers up at him. “Feels so good.”
“Love watching you take it.” He grunts. “We fit so perfectly, your pussy was made for me.”
“Oh, fuck!” Apparently, that’s all she needed in order to come. She drenches his cock, which surprises the both of them. “Oh my god!” She cries out, a second wave of pleasure washing over her. It’s like the never ending orgasm. “Please tell me I didn’t just pee on you.” She sits up on her elbows and is mortified by the wet spot between them. “I had all that water beforehand-“
“You didn’t pee, Y/N.” Harry chuckles. “You just squirted a little. Well, a lot, but you know what I mean.”
“I’ve never done that before.” She blinks.
“Poor thing.” He pouts down at her. “Didn’t it feel so good to get a release like that?” He places his hands on the back of her thighs and pushes them down until her knees are on either side of her head. “Hm?”
“Yes, felt amazing.”
“I’ll make you do it again, baby, don’t worry. Gonna give it to you like you deserve. Hold your legs there for me.” He grips her hips and starts moving her on and off his cock. He watches as her eyes roll back and he laughs lowly. “Feel good?”
“Soooo good, oh my god.”
His fingers comes together and he slaps her clit, over and over and over until she’s panting and crying out and making a mess. He pulls out to move her onto her side. She sighs contently, happy to give her legs a break. But it’s not long until Harry is putting one of her legs over his shoulder and sliding back in, fucking her from the side.
“Christ, can feel you in my guts.”
“M’not hitting your cervix right? It still feels good?”
“Feels amazing, keep going.”
“Rub your clit. I wanna come at the same time.”
She slides her hand down and touches herself. She could honestly come from the sound of Harry moaning alone, but his cock beating into her g-spot is also a big help. She screams his name as she comes, making another mess. Harry grunts and whimpers and moans as he fills the condom.
He waits until they’ve both caught their breaths to pull out. Y/N rolls onto her back while Harry throws the condom away. The bed creaks as he lays back down next to her. Her lower half twitches every so often, her thighs still quivering.
“I love that we both already finished and your legs are still shaking.” He turns onto his side and draws shapes into her belly.
“Shut up.” She breathes. “I can’t even feel them.”
“You should really come with me to Pilates more often.”
“Who needs Pilates when you’re going to be fucking me like that regularly?” She turns her head to the side to look at him.
“Oh, am I going to be fucking you regularly? I didn’t get that memo.” He smirks.
“Yes, generally, when two people start dating, they fuck regularly.”
“Are you serious?” He sits up, hope painted all over his face. “You can really see us being a romantic couple?”
“Yeah.” She smiles up at him and caresses his cheek. “I’d really like to give this a shot.”
“Oh, Y/N, that makes me so happy.” He moves to lay on top of her and buries his face in her neck. She holds him to her chest, content with having his weight on her.
“Harry?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for being you.”
He moves to look at her and pecks her lips. “You’re welcome.”
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slutforitoshi · 1 year
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nagi seishiro - illuminate *:・゚✧
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ft. fratboy!nagi x f!reader, 18+ minors dni
cw: intoxication/fucking under the influence (alcohol), nipple play, thigh riding, fingering, choking, cumming on body
synopsis: what happens when you lose your roommate at the biggest frat party of the semester?
wc: 2.06k
A/N: inspired entirely by a whiteout party i went to last night 
you stopped trying to look for your new roommate about half an hour ago, giving up the impossible search in a sea of sweaty bodies dimly lit by uv lights. 
“pleaseee” she had said with doe eyes, begging you to go with her to the first frat party of the semester. you barely knew anyone within greek life and the last time you were at a frat party some random girl threw up all over your new dunks. this was before you knew frat shoes were a thing, and the memory makes you shudder. 
“i heard ksig has really cute guysss” she continued, still trying to convince you to come.
you rolled your eyes, “sorry i’m not interested in lumberjack built gym rats whose greatest contribution to society is shotgunning beer cans in seconds.” 
“what else could you possibly be doing this saturday night? and don’t tell me it’s homework because it’s just syllabus week” she exasperates, not giving up, 
“well-” you started, but then realized she had a point. 
“come on it’s the biggest party of the semester”
and that’s how you ended up at kappa sigma’s fall rush social: whiteout theme. looking at the state of the frat house, you wondered who came up with that terrible idea. the uv lights only highlighted the filth on every visible surface area. upon entry you were already regretting your decision.
that regret only grew when you realized your new roommate was a runner. you lost her barely half an hour in, unable to find her in any public space. you chose to avoid looking in the private rooms though because well you know what happens in there during parties. 
low battery: 20%. great now your phone was running low too. there had to be at least another two hours before the party ended, and something told you your roommate wouldn’t be calling you back anytime soon. 
“HE JUST DOESN’T MISS!!” a deep voice booms followed by an eruption of incoherent yelling. a crowd was growing near the beer pong table, and you decided to join them. it had to be better than sitting alone doing nothing on a couch now that your phone was low.
you push your way towards the front to see what the noise was about, and you see a duo stood at one end along with a singular guy at the other. the one-man team was clearly dominating as visible by the cup ratio: 1 to 8. he is up, having to land a pingpong ball into the remaining cup twice. 
shoot, in. the first shot is successful, and you could hear people murmur in anticipation. 
shoot…in. the crowd erupts in an instance, and the guy is hoisted up onto another’s shoulders. there, you finally get a good look at him and your stomach flips. he’s fucking hot.
all your previous qualms about the theme were long forgotten as you see how his white hair glows under the dark lights, illuminating his figure. he’s tall too, nearly touching the high ceiling from the shoulder ride. 
“LET’S FUCKING GO THAT’S OUR SEI!” the guy carrying him shouts, earning whoops and hollers from who you assume are the ksig brothers. 
“so his name is sei” you murmur, liking the way it sounds on your tongue.
“can i go play games upstairs now?” sei asks, and his brothers boo in response. he seems entirely different from the other frat boys, almost bored at his win, like it was only obvious that he would sweep the other team. your attraction continues to grow.
“come on sei, you never come to these things. at least stay for a little longer.”
“what a hassle” you hear him say softly as he’s lowered back down to the ground. his brothers go to the next room for more drinks you assume, but sei stays put near the table. and suddenly you’re met with an opportunity. 
you swish around the remaining jungle juice in your solo cup for a bit before raising it to your lips and downing it in one breath. you needed a shot of courage (or multiple in this case because why the fuck did that taste like 80% alcohol). 
“you were really good back there” you lean on the pong table, facing your body towards sei who was currently occupied with his phone. he looks up from his device, and you don’t miss the glance he gives towards your body.  
suddenly you’re thankful that the only clean white fit you had was coincidentally your sluttiest one. the crossed fabric that wrapped around your neck defined your cleavage, and the short tennis skirt threatened to show your ass at the slightest bending motion. 
“oh thanks…do i know you?” 
ouch. 
“probably not, this is my first ksig function” you try to ignore the heat that flashes across your face, “not really a frat party person.”
“me neither. the bros made me come today since there were zetas talking shit about our pong game” he responded, and you’re thankful to find common ground.
“well clearly they weren’t much of a match. i’m surprised you’re a brother if you don’t go out often”
“hm i actually only joined on a bet. my friend said he’d buy me a ps5 game if i got a bid” he shrugged. “i’ve been trying to drop for over a year now, but they need me for the tournaments”
“tournaments?” you ask, clearly not the most knowledgeable about frat culture. 
“yeah for pong and beer die. they think ksig has a shot at the finales for the first time in years or something” 
they probably do judging by sei’s performance just a few minutes prior. you reach for a ping pong ball, purposefully grazing his arm lightly to reach it.
“can you show me how to throw? i suck” you pout slightly. technically it wasn’t a lie, you couldn’t aim for shit, especially not while buzzed. 
“it’s easy, it’s all in the elbows” he takes a ball himself and shoots, naturally landing it of course. you try to mimic him after, only to see the ball bounce off the cup’s rim. 
“you’re bending your wrist too much” he comments, handing you another ball. you try again, and it ricochets off one cup, barely missing the one next to it. 
“you’re overextending your arm now” he says, already with another ball in hand. 
“let me show you”, you expect him to demonstrate again but instead he places it in your hand and takes position behind you. he raises your arm with his own, showing you exactly how the movement should go. you’re focused on anything but the technique though, instead thinking about how warm his fingers are against your wrist. 
“now you try” he says, by your ear. holy shit he’s right there. he doesn’t move from the position though, and the nerves caused by his proximity makes you miss terribly.
“how did you get even worse,” he’s clearly shocked, doubting his own teaching ability for a second, “you should just give up” he concludes.
“hey it’s just because you were so close” you defend yourself, eyes widening once you realize what it suggested.
“do i make you nervous?” he smirks, and you’ve never felt smaller (maybe that’s also because he’s literally towering over you). 
“so what if you do?” you retort, digging yourself a deeper hole. 
“want to go to my room?”
~~~
the door is barely shut before your lips are on each other, tasting remnants of alcohol. he leads you to his gaming chair, seating you on top of his lap. immediately you can feel a bulge form under you.
sei’s kisses aren’t aggressive, but needy. his hands are on your waist, pulling you in further towards his chest. then back out, creating just the right friction beneath your skirt. you build a rhythm, grinding on his thighs, which you note are quite toned. 
“f-fuck sei” you moaned against him, resulting in a tightened grip on your hips. 
“you’re making a mess” he observes, pleased at the damp streaks forming on his pants. while one hand remains at the side of your waist, he moves the other one up, settling on your right breast. he eagerly tugs your shirt to free it, capturing the bud with his fingertips. pinching and rolling, emitting louder moans from you. 
“so fucking perfect” he murmurs before diving in, capturing the sensitive bead between his lips. the sensation pushes you further to the edge, eyes rolling back as his tongue circles it.  
he picks you up easily from the chair, face still buried in your chest. he sets you down on his bed and starts to unbuckle his belt. you remove your own drenched panties and move to do the same with your skirt.
“keep this on” he smacks your hand away from the waistband, “i’ve always wanted to fuck someone with a skirt on”
he takes off his shirt with one pull, and wow abs. he smirks again, seeing your eyes fixated on his body. 
“like what you see?”
“how could i not?”
if you looked closely you would be able to see his cock twitch, clearly thrilled at the validation. his lips are on you again, and he mumbles out a “you drive me fucking crazy”
fingers are prodding near your entrance, and you instinctively shut your legs from the sensitivity.
“keep them open” he pulls your knees apart, strong arms keeping them from shutting again. he circles your clit first, lubricating his digits with the surplus of slick. once satisfied, he enters with two at once, earning a particularly long moan from the stretch.
“so wet” he starts to pump, quickening his pace, “all for me”
“just like that sei just like that” you repeat, intoxicated by the feeling. the squelching noises are overwhelming, bouncing off the walls. then he curls his fingers.
“don’t do that i-” you choke out, “i’ll cum!”
he doesn’t stop though, still thrusting his perfectly curled fingers through your orgasm. wait, what kind of frat boy makes the girl cum first? 
before you could ponder too much he’s wrapping an arm under you, swiftly flipping you over onto your stomach. you go onto your knees, and he’s nearly cumming at the view of your ass up against him. 
glancing back you see him quickly rip open a condom with his teeth before slipping it on, as if he’s done it a billion times before. with looks like those you wouldn’t be surprised.
he positions himself behind you, aligning himself with your entrance before pushing. 
“seiii” you drawl, in awe at how perfect he fits within you. 
his hands are positioned at your hips, slowly thrusting his own against you as you grow accustomed to the intrusion. 
“y-you can go faster” you moan, and what can he do but comply. his thrusts are sharp and quick, and you begin to hear his own breathy moans at the feeling of your velvety walls. 
“your body’s so perfect…like it was made for me” he groans. his right hand moves away from your hips and rest against your throat, squeezing. 
the sudden loss of oxygen makes your mind go into a haze, unable to focus on anything but the pleasure. 
“flip over” he suddenly goes, before moving you himself. “need to cum while seeing you”
his hand remains on your throat as he continues to fuck you in missionary, getting closer as he hears those sinful moans and sees your face permanently plastered with an expression of ecstasy. 
“want you to cum on me” you plead, “want you to make me a mess”
unable to say no, he pulls out and rips off the condom with alarming speed. within a few pumps of his hand he’s granting your wish, decorating your upper body with thick spurts of white. 
you’re sure it would be a sight if you were to step back into the party under the uv lights. 
~~~
sorry i totally forgot to tell you i left with a guy >.<
you stare blankly at the text from your roommate displayed on your screen. yeah you were never going out with this girl again. 
“just stay here with me” sei says, also seeing the text from over your shoulder. “i’ll take you home tomorrow”
well you’d have to thank her for dragging you out this one time at least. you shut off your phone and succumb to sleep in the arms of your not-so-typical frat boy.
2K notes · View notes
shuadotcom · 6 months
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Room with a View (M)
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🩸Pairing: Vampire!Kim Mingyu x Human fem!Reader x Vampire!Jeon Jungkook
🩸Summary: “Yes, they clearly want in your pants, but at least Mingyu wasn’t lying about a much better view.”
🩸Genres & AUs: Smut, supernatural au, vampire au, pwp
🩸Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED)
🩸Words: 6.3k
🩸Warnings: Mention of alcohol, profanity, mentions of blood, shameless Mean Girls references
🩸Smut warnings: Threesome, vampire kink ig, oral (f & m receiving), semi-public sex, window sex, fingering, anal fingering (f receiving), biting, marking, dirty talk, pet names (baby, little mouse), unprotected sex (vampires can’t impregnate humans in this world bc i said so!) rough sex, double penetration, using cum as lube
🩸Note: For @kpopsblackcreatorsociety 's Blood & Bane event! Vampire Prompt: “Did you just fucking bite me?!”
This AMAZING banner is by my bby @playmetheclassics / @classicscreations and beta’d by my other bby @the-boy-meets-evil! A million smooches for you both!! 😙❤️ Oh and tagging the lovely @gyuwoncheol ❤️
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“I’m a mouse, duh!” You’ve had to clarify that at least ten times tonight, much to your displeasure. You assumed that the black nightie, silver calf-high boots, and mouse ears would make your costume obvious, but so far, it’s seemed that everyone you’ve run into at this party either has never seen Mean Girls or doesn’t remember it. It’s a tragedy, truly.
It doesn’t help that most of your time at this party has been spent with just you by yourself. When only one of the four parts of a group costume is together, the whole idea doesn’t make the same impact. But, Jihyo and Jeongyeon, the Regina George and Grethen Wieners of your quartet in that order, disappeared together fifteen minutes after arriving. They’re likely hooking up in a room somewhere, still trying to hide from you and Sana that they’re dating. That’s added to the fact that Sana, the Cady Heron of the group, is spending time with the busy boyfriend she hasn’t seen in weeks. They had offered to let you hang out with them, but the last thing you wanted to be was a third-wheel.
That leaves just you, lingering by the back door with the same wine cooler you’ve been nursing for the last hour. 
You don’t know many people here except for the host, Dongmin, and a few of your co-workers you’ve recognized, but aren’t close with. He’s the sweet, wealthy vice president at the new company you work at who always goes out of his way to greet you when he sees you in the office.
You’ve only spoken to him a handful of times at the few company events you’ve been to and during shared elevator rides, so you were surprised when he invited you to his annual Halloween party, but you wouldn’t dream of turning him down. You also knew he had a good amount of money, what with the company doing so well, but you had no idea he was this well-off. 
His house has two floors and all of the rooms are spacious, bustling with people in Halloween costumes, dancing, talking, and knocking back drinks. Once you look past all of the partygoers, the view from the backdoor looks out at the city, all the lights in the distance looking magical from where the house sits on a hill in the nice, suburban part of town.
The view is honestly the most interesting part about tonight. You typically love Halloween, but this is the first party you’ve been to in a few years, plus you’re not friends with anyone else other than the three girls you came with. So far, this Halloween has been extremely uneventful.
“Karen Smith from Mean Girls, right? You’re a mouse?” A male voice you don’t recognize catches you off guard as you spin to see who it is.
To say you’re breathless at the sheer presence of the two men you come face-to-face with would be an understatement. They’re both tall and buff-looking - buff in the way that has your stomach doing flips. They’re clad in all denim outfits, their white shirts hugging each muscle underneath the cotton. Cowboy hats and boots complete their costumes, so you can easily deduce what they’re supposed to be. The man who you assume is the one who speaks is closest to you, smiling at you, pretty lips decorated with double lip rings.
They’re beautiful in the most stunning of ways that makes them not even seem real.
When you finally get a grip on yourself, you clear your throat, plastering on a smile. “Finally, someone at this party with taste! You’d be surprised how many people here have never seen Mean Girls.”
“A lot of people at this party aren’t much fun so that makes sense,” The other man speaks, rolling his eyes before fixing you with a look that appears as what you can only describe as hungry. “Speaking of, we haven’t seen you at one of Dongmin’s parties before.”
“Oh, yeah this is my friends and my first time here. Dongmin and I have worked at the same company for a few months. He invited me and as many people as I wanted to bring.”
“Remind us to thank Dongmin for that when we see him next,” Liprings smiles at you again, eyes sweeping over you from head to toe and you can feel the hairs on your arm stand on end under his appraisal. “I’m Jungkook, by the way.”
“And I’m Mingyu,” Both men reach for your hands, each of them placing a kiss on them. The gesture is cheesy, but it still makes your skin heat up, cheeks burning as they gently let your hands go.
“I-I’m Y/n.” Forcing out a nervous laugh, you glance at their hat and boots and attempt to pivot the conversation. It’s not as though you didn’t want the attention they’re so clearly giving you, but you’ve never had men that looked this good so blatantly ogling you. Especially not two at the same time. You’re one more flirtatious look away from giggling like a schoolgirl in front of them.
“You know, just putting on cowboy boots and hats doesn’t make you cowboys.”
“And just wearing a headband doesn’t make you a mouse.” Jungkook fires back, grinning at you. Touché.
“You said you and your friends - where are they?” Mingyu asks, eyes sweeping the room. 
“They’re all with their significant others.” You shrug, not trying to sound bitter. You’re happy for your friends, truly you are - you’re just reminded of how alone you are right now.
“Aw, well we’ll keep you company, little mouse,” Mingyu winks at you and the way you feel your thighs clench together at his words is utterly embarrassing. You’re almost mortified with yourself when you watch as both he and Jungkook glance down at your exposed thighs, noticing the gesture. That mortification is quickly washed away when Jungkook bites his lip and Mingyu’s smile grows. 
All of a sudden, you’re acutely aware that it’s just you and two of the most handsome men you’ve ever been around. Face to face. There are plenty of people buzzing around you, but none of them are paying your trio any mind. Your heart races at this thought, glancing back out the window at the view into the backyard again.
“Everything okay, Y/n?” Jungkook’s voice is closer than you expect as he sidles up to your left, Mingyu moving to stand to your right.
“Yeah, of course, why do you ask?”
“You just seem nervous is all.”
“Nervous? I’m not nervous. I’m just…distracted. The, uh, the view of the city! It’s just so pretty. I’ve been admiring it all night.”
“Hmm. This is a really nice view,” Jungkook agrees.
“I know where you can see an even better view,” Mingyu adds, drawing both your and Jungkook’s attention to him.
“You do?”
“Yeah. We’re super close to Dongmin and we’ve been here a million times. He has a room upstairs that faces out to the backyard, but it’s a much better view than this. Wanna go check it out?”
You’d have to be an idiot not to guess where this was going and what else he intended with his words. He waits patiently, smiling at you and letting you think it over. A glance over your shoulder at Jungkook shows that he’s also waiting, eyes shifting to gaze outside while you think. Two hot guys basically tell you that they want to take you upstairs and hook up with you. It’s not the exact type of excitement you were looking for on Halloween, but it’s excitement nonetheless. 
“Sure, let’s go. I’ll text my friends.”
“Perfect.” They wait for you to send a quick text to the group chat, letting the girls know who you’re going upstairs with and you see someone sends back a winky face emoji before you slip your phone in the clutch on your wrist. 
Mingyu has you follow him out of the kitchen and through the crowd to the stairs with Jungkook behind you, his hand hovering over your lower back as he follows. When you reach the top of the stairs, Mingyu leads you to the left, down a hallway, and into a room at the end of the hall.
As soon as you step in, you see the wrap-around windows spanning the length of the wall in front of you. The curtains are all drawn and the expanse of the starry night is laid out so clearly. This room is in the corner of the house, but still faces the back, so you can see into the backyard and well across to the city skyline.
Yes, they clearly want in your pants, but at least Mingyu wasn’t lying about a much better view.
As if reading your mind the man in question chuckles, gesturing to the view. “I was right, wasn’t I?”
“Yeah, yeah you were,” you wave at him, feeling flirty and brave enough to throw him a wink as you beeline straight for the window. The glass is clean enough that you can just make out your reflection. 
“Why are you so attached to looking outside?” Jungkook questions from your left. When you turn to find him, he’s lounging in a plush chair that sits near the foot of the luxurious bed.
“I can just appreciate a good view is all.”
“So can I,” Jungkook’s voice is so confident when he says it. He’s likely used that same line a million times before and it’s worked.
You refuse to admit it works on you too. 
“Smooth,” you still can’t help but roll your eyes. “This view is honestly just the most interesting thing I’ve looked at all night.” 
A big, firm, body presses into your back, your breath catching in surprise. You hadn’t even heard Mingyu approach.
“Oh yeah? That’s the most interesting thing you’ve seen all night?” His voice is low as he speaks against your ear, this close to making your knees weak.
“Mmhmm. Haven’t really been given much else to look at,” you hope neither of them can hear how your voice trembles as Mingyu runs his hands down your arms, pressing his body against you more. He has you so close to the glass you need to raise your hands to stop yourself from becoming flush against it. 
“Is that so?” Mingyu’s hands are soft as he brushes the edge of your lingerie, his fingertips grazing your bare thighs that the hem hangs above. His hands are colder than you thought they’d be, but the chill is welcome on your blazing skin.
“I guess I need something more interesting to look at.” Your eyes shift up in an attempt to meet his in the reflection of the glass but…all you see is yourself and nothing else? “Mingy-oh!,” your last word is clipped when Mingyu steps back and takes hold of your hips to pull you a little ways away from the window. Immediately after, he pushes you forward to bend at the waist. Your hands press against the glass again, this time to keep you from toppling forward onto your face.
“Be careful, baby.”
“Wh - sh-shit!” Your question dies on your lips when you feel Mingyu spread your plush thighs and presses his face against your exposed pussy, his tongue prodding at the fabric of your panties to push both into your wet hole.
“You can look at your reflection while I eat you out. I’m sure the face you make when you cum all over my tongue will be interesting enough.”
“Oh, or how about all those partygoers outside in the backyard? Isn’t it just so interesting how if anyone looked up and stared long enough, they’d see you bent over with your tits falling out?” Jungkook’s tone is so aggravatingly teasing, but he’s right. 
There are quite a few people stationed and talking around the yard. If someone truly wanted to, it would be pretty easy to see what’s going on in the room. The thought sends fear and another wave of arousal throughout you. 
“Mm, I think she likes that thought, JK. She got so much wetter.” 
“So dirty, little mouse.” 
“I - fuck!” It’s frustrating how Mingyu keeps touching you in all the right ways, his movements constantly scrambling your brain and derailing your train of thought.
His fingers push your panties to the side and his mouth immediately latches onto your clit, sucking a few times before his tongue eases into your entrance, the intrusion pushing out an unabashed moan from your chest.
Your fingers scramble to grip the glass, only to slide with a squeak as Mingyu laps at you as far as his tongue can reach. Your hips begin rolling against his face as he works at you, the need to cum dangling dangerously close. 
There have been plenty of other times you’ve let someone eat you out, but nothing can compare to the way this beautiful stranger plunges his tongue into your dripping hole, the obscene slurping sounds he makes are the only sound ringing in your ears other than your desperate whines.
“God, you look so good like this, little mouse. Your legs are trembling.” Jungkook’s voice cuts through the haze clouding your brain. “Can’t wait to get my hands on you.”
“What are you w-waiting for, then?” You attempt to sound confident and sexy, but your words are more whiny than anything. Even so, you hear Jungkook chuckle before the sound of him getting out of the chair and making his way over you catches your attention. He’s taken his denim jacket off at some point and you practically drool at the sight of his fitting white t-shirt and tattoo-decorated arm on display. 
He raises one of his hands, trailing it over your back and down to your ass. Mingyu already pushed your nightie up enough to get access to you, but Jungkook bunches it up all the way, the delicate fabric resting above your ass to give him access. He brings his hand down once, landing a spank on one of your cheeks.
Electricity surges through your body at the sting and you jump. Your hips respond by pushing back, obviously begging both men for more.
From behind you, Mingyu grunts, and, as if answering your wordless request, you feel his finger ease into your entrance, replacing his tongue. He’s still cold and you let out a yelp at the temperature, but you easily melt into him as his digit plunges into your heat.
Jungkook is still standing next to you, chuckling at the way you writhe, even bending over a little more.
“Asking to be spanked again, baby?” He hums, cold hand caressing your ass. 
“Yes, please!” Your knees are so, so close to giving out as you can feel your orgasm creeping up closer and closer. Mingyu’s finger keeps working at you and he soon adds a second. Heart hammering against your chest, you rest your forehead against the cold glass, nearly ready to collapse at the pleasure.
“Alright, well now you gotta share, Gyu,” Jungkook’s voice reminds his friend before he grabs at you to stand you upright. 
Mingyu, still on the floor, makes a displeased sound, frowning up at his friend.
“Yeah, yeah. You can still eat her out, but I want her mouth. Is that alright with you, little mouse?”
“Hell yes, it is,” you breathe out, still trying to right yourself after Mingyu’s assault on your pussy.
Jungkook smiles at you, and it takes your breath away in another way. How the fuck were you so lucky to end up here like this with men who looked this good?
With his hand holding yours, he leads you to the bed, Mingyu trailing behind as his fingers graze any part of your skin he can reach. Once you reach the bed, both men work together in lifting your nightie over your head and slowly peeling away your bra and panties, leaving kisses over your newly exposed skin. 
The three of you are a flurry of hands as you tug on the hem of Jungkook’s shirt with one hand while reaching behind your back to find the button on Mingyu’s jeans. 
When you’re finally naked, (save for your mouse ears which both men beg you to leave on), Mingyu spins you around and leans down to pull you into a kiss. His lips are impossibly soft as you melt into him, his tongue poking out to brush against your bottom lip a few times. You open for him immediately, allowing the man to wrap his tongue around yours before sucking the muscle into his mouth. 
Tiny mewls slip out of you, getting swallowed by Mingyu as he kisses you hard enough to bruise you, letting you taste yourself on him. Jungkook’s hands skate over your hips, your stomach, and up to your breasts. He rolls your nipples between his fingers, tugging on the buds as his teeth graze your shoulders and neck. Mingyu continues to muffle every sound you make, and one hand, the one not currently cradling the back of your head, snakes down, down, down until he dips a finger between your thighs. He’s met with your wetness, already coating the tops of your inner thighs. 
Your eyelids flutter as both sets of hands hold you, your arousal building with every tweak and every poke.
A different kind of poke on your neck makes you yelp though, flinching your head back from Mingyu to try and get a look at Jungkook.
“Did you just fucking bite me?!”
The tattooed man chuckles and cocks his head at you, amused at your reaction.
“Sorry, I guess I should’ve asked if you’re into that?”
“I am, I was just surprised. Your teeth are sharp.” You don’t mind marking and being bitten, but it’s never been almost painful when past partners have done it. 
Although truth be told, you didn’t mind one bit that it hurt.
He pouts at you, apologizing but still asking if you’re sure you’re okay with it. You promise you are and that’s all Jungkook needs to spin you around and crash his lips into yours. The chill of his lip rings is as cold as his lips, but just like every other chilled part of both him and Mingyu, you don’t mind at all.
Jungkook’s kisses are messier than Mingyu’s, his tongue immediately diving into your mouth to lap at every part of you. He alternates between making out with you as if his life depended on it and nibbling at your bottom lip, his teeth catching on the swollen skin now and again. It’s Mingyu’s turn to lavish your shoulders and neck with attention as he too sucks and nips at your skin, his teeth pricking your hot skin as he goes.
He leaves you panting when he finally lets you up for air and you can practically feel your arousal dripping down your thighs from the dual sensations.
“Your lips are fucking amazing,” Jungkook grumbles, dark eyes fixing you with a look that has you swooning. “I wanna feel them on my dick now,” 
You nod eagerly, likely resembling a bobblehead, and he and Mingyu both laugh at your eagerness. They help you get comfortable on the bed, having you kneel across it on all fours. Jungkook takes his position in front of you, his cock hard and already leaking precum. Mingyu shuffles on the bed behind you, running his hands over your ass, and you instinctively arch for him.
“Such a pretty pussy,” he hums, swiping his finger through your wetness and you hear him suck it into his mouth behind you. “And you taste even better.”
“Hey, you need to share, remember? I wanna taste,” Jungkook pouts at Mingyu over your shoulder and you feel Mingyu’s hand between your thighs again, gathering more of you, and this time, he reaches forward and offers his finger to Jungkook. The man in front of you cranes his neck forward to suck his friend's finger into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks for a moment before letting go with a ‘pop.’ 
Jungkook flashes a sly smile, licking his lips as he looks down at you. “Gyu is right. You’re absolutely delectable, little mouse. I’ll have to taste it straight from the source some other time.” 
The gears in your brain work overtime, registering that he’s alluded to there being a next time for the three of you. 
Mingyu’s tongue is diving into your cunt again which derails any other train of thought. Your mouth hangs open, a moan tumbling out in response. Jungkook uses that opportunity to tap the head of his cock against your bottom lip.
“This okay, baby?” He asks. When you let out an affirmative noise, he eases it into your mouth and you eagerly wrap your lips around it.
Jungkook’s cock isn’t extraordinarily long, but it’s thick, the girth stretching out the corners of your mouth the more he pushes in. When you almost get all of him in, he takes a moment, giving you time. When he feels you relax your jaw and sees you look up at him through your lashes, he starts to move his hips, helping you bob your head over his dick. 
His fingers weave into your hair, making sure not to disturb your mouse ears, gripping the strands at the base as he slowly rolls his hips into your face. You close your eyes, both to concentrate on taking him and to relish in the frantic way that Mingyu laps at your folds. He grunts into you with each swipe of his tongue and you can feel each deep vibration that slips out. 
You can feel your earlier orgasm creeping up again with each flick of Mingyu’s tongue. When he reaches under you to run his finger over your clit, the heat in the pit of your stomach gets hotter, bubbling up and spreading through your veins.
Unable to help yourself, you push your hips back into his face chasing your high. Jungkook’s cock is heavy and your tongue, his pace quickening too. His fingers tug at your hair harder than when he started. Each time he surges forward, the tip of his dick just barely hits the back of your throat, but it’s still enough to have you choking.
Drool starts to pool in the corners of your mouth as you cry out around his length, finally toppling over the edge as you cum. Your words are garbled and you have to anchor yourself to not fall fast forward into Jungkook’s crotch.
“Shit, yes baby like that. Cum all over Gyu’s face and take my cock. So good,” Jungkook’s words sound far away. Your brain is foggy, but you still clench around Mingyu’s enthusiastic tongue as he cleans you up.
When Mingyu finally pulls back you’re still whimpering around Jungkook and he’s switched to shallow thrusts, his cock dragging almost lazily against your tongue.
“Fuck, little mouse. I think I might be addicted to your delicious little cunt now.” Mingyu punctuated his words with a light smack to your still throbbing pussy, making you jolt. 
“Her mouth is a fucking dream too. She looks so pretty with it full. We’re so lucky to have found you, baby.”
“So lucky,” Mingyu agrees. You attempt to nod, trying your best to agree with them because you also feel incredibly lucky tonight. You’d gone from lamenting about being a third wheel in the awkward, almost lonely ways, to being the third wheel in a threesome with two beautiful men. Lucky indeed.
“Gonna let us get even luckier, baby?” Jungkook’s finger settles under your chin, tilting your head up just a bit to look down at you. “Gonna let us fuck you?”
This time you pull away, letting his cock fall out and giving you a chance to rest your jaw.
“God yes. I need more,” your voice is a little scratchy but still needy.
“Good girl. Who do you want first?” Mingyu rasps in your ear, his lips brushing over the shell of your ear.
“Both of you.” 
“Oh? You hear that, Gyu? She wants us both.”
“Fuck, you’re so goddamn dirty, baby. Sure you can take us both?” Mingyu presses his length against your asscheeks, letting you feel just how big he is.
“I can do it. Just prep me real good?” Casting a look over your shoulder, you meet Mingyu’s eyes, batting your lashes at him, wearing your best pleading face.
His expression darkens, smirking at you as his eyes sweep over your back, fixing on your ass before meeting your eyes again. “I’ll take care of you, little mouse, don’t worry.”
Mingyu peppers your cheeks with kisses while his finger swipes through your wetness again. He slowly spreads your cheeks, and a glob of spit hits your puckered hole followed by the tip of his finger prodding you. 
You wince when he slips in, moving oh so slowly until he’s one knuckle deep. Jungkook’s hand still under your chin turns your head to face forward and redirects your attention back to him. 
“Lemme distract you,” he taps the tip of his dick against your lips and you open immediately, almost greedy to take him in again. It’s easy for him to set a pace; each push of his hips forward pushes you back against Mingyu’s finger. They easily find a rhythm and Jungkook tugs on your hair, moaning loudly above you. 
Listening to his melodic voice making these breathy exhales for you - because of you - serves to make you wet all over again and determined to make him cum. He’s still guiding your head, but you curve your tongue, letting it wrap under his cock, gliding along a thick vein on the underside. 
“Fuck, Y/n. Keep doing that,”
So you do, hollowing your cheeks for good measure to make the inside of your mouth feel tighter around him. You’re moaning around his length as Mingyu slips a second finger into you, scissoring his fingers as he gets both digits in you.
“Look at you, little mouse. Taking my fingers and Jungkookie’s cock so well. I just know you’ll take both of us so good when we fill you up,” Mingyu’s words make you clench around nothing, but he feels the way your body tenses up and he chuckles at you. He lands a sharp smack on your ass, pushing a muffled shriek out of you. 
You get lost in the slide of Jungkook’s dick down your throat and the stretch of Mingyu’s fingers in you. It isn’t very long until you’re fucking back against his fingers. Jungkook’s grunts are getting more high-pitched and frantic, curses falling from his lips.
“Yeah, yeah, fuck. I’m - fuck!” Jungkook pulls his cock from your mouth, leaning back and gliding his hand over his length at light speed. 
When he cums he makes sure he’s angled towards him, so the sticky liquid spurts onto his chest and hand. You watch in awe as he tugs at himself a few times. His eyes are closed as he swipes his fingers through the mess on his skin and rubs it over his still-hard dick, sighing as squelching echoes in your ears.
“You doing okay, little mouse?” Mingyu’s voice cuts through to you and you finally manage to nod.
“Good. Come’re,” Mingyu’s fingers slip out of you and his hands wrap around your ankles and slide you down the bed, flipping you onto your back in one swift motion. “Legs and arms, wrap them around me.” He helps you loop your arms around his neck and you do your best to lock your legs around his waist. 
You expect to stay splayed out on your back, but he has other ideas as he picks you up with ease, as if you weigh absolutely nothing and you’ll be damned if it isn’t one of the hottest things that’s happened tonight.
Mingyu’s mouth is on yours again as his hands grip your ass, keeping you up and close to his body. He moves you both across the room, his back leaning against one of the large windows. One of your hands grips his shoulder while the other cards through his dark locks.
A second set of hands ghosts over your shoulders and back followed by Jungkook’s lips, his teeth grazing your skin between kisses. 
“Gonna let us fuck you at the same time, little mouse?” Jungkook speaks next to your ear, biting your lobe.
“I would if you’d hurry up,” you mumble, now laying your head back on Jungkook’s shoulder as Mingyu licks up the column of your throat, biting your collarbone hard enough to make you yelp. 
“So impatient, baby,” he murmurs against your skin. “But I guess we should give her what she wants, JK.”
“Guess so, Gyu,” 
Mingyu leaves a final kiss on the mark he’s left on your collarbone and adjusts you in his hold. He lifts you a little, quite effortlessly at that, and begins sliding you down in his length. Mingyu’s cock is long - long and thick enough that you feel full before he’s even halfway in, but you take it, gnawing at your lip as he enters you inch by inch.
Once he’s completely sheathed inside of you, you two lock eyes, the dark glint unmistakable. He gives a few shallow thrusts, already making you pant in his grasp.
“My turn, baby,” Jungkook says, reminding you that you’re only halfway done.
You crane your neck to the side to look down, and you watch Jungkook stroke himself a few times, using his cum to get himself as slick as possible for you, spitting into his hand for extra help. Mingyu tips you forward, your head resting on his shoulder as he spreads your cheeks for Jungkook. 
You ignore the fact that when you look at your reflection in the window, yours is the only one you see, clinging naked around seemingly nothing.
The nudge of Jungkook’s thick cockhead against your rim makes you gasp. He slides in much slower than Mingyu, letting your walls accommodate him at a much gentler pace. When he finally bottoms out, your head is spinning at the sensation of being packed to the absolute brim. Neither men say anything as you get used to them, using the opportunity to litter any skin they can reach with their mouths with bites, sucking more marks into you. 
When you’re finally ready, you wriggle in Mingyu’s hold, attempting to pivot your hip to get them to move.
“Mm, you ready, baby?” Mingyu whispers, running his tongue along your jaw.
“Yes, please. Fuck me,” 
“Since you asked so nicely…” Jungkook laughs, his hands now holding onto your ass while Mingyu wraps his arms around your waist.
Both men take a millisecond to adjust and that’s truly all they need before they both thrust into you, drawing a long, gasp of breath out of you. Mingyu snaps his hips forward, using the window behind him as momentum to fuck into you. It pushes you back down into Jungkook who’s glued to your back. 
They fuck you roughly, see-sawing you back and forth on their cocks, their grips on your flesh never loosening. You cry out each time, babbling out what sounds to you like their names surrounded by nonsense.
Mingyu’s gaze stays locked on your face, occasionally trailing over the rest of you, practically growling with each powerful thrust. 
“Look at you. Taking two cocks so well. You’re so good for us, little mouse.” Each word is punctuated with even more power behind his movements, drawing a whimper out of you each time.
“So good. Letting me into this tight little ass. Fuck you’re squeezing me so much, baby.” Jungkook’s comments are also followed by thrusts that take your breath away, his balls slapping against the back of your thighs each time.
You feel a million miles away from your body as these beautiful men with their big dicks stuff you full. You can feel every vein and every ridge battering and rubbing against your spongy walls and you clench with each thrust in, your second orgasm rushing to the forefront.
At some point, you think you black out, but that could just be the pleasure. The only thing you see is Mingyu smiling salaciously at you, sharp teeth on display, and half-lidded eyes drinking you in. The only thing you hear is Jungkook growling in your ear, praising how good you are for them and how fucking amazing you are. 
The only thing you feel - well you feel everything. The way they stretch you out, the way their fingers and blunt nails press bruises and half-moon marks into your skin. You feel the scrape of their teeth when they bite at you and it’d be a lie to say you didn’t want them to bite you a little harder.
“Look at our little mouse, JK. She’s so pretty and so fucked out.” Mingyu moves a hand up to grip your chin and tilts your head back to rest on Jungkook’s shoulder.
“Shit, look at you, baby. So cockdrunk for us. You gonna cum?” You think you say words, but maybe it’s more of affirmative sounding noises.
Somehow, someone’s hand - you’re not sure who - reaches between your legs to rub your clit. You’re so fucking full and so fucking wet that it only takes a few rubs at your bundle of nerves to have you cumming with a scream that sounds much too loud to your ears.
Every inch of you is red hot and in flames as your throat dries up and your eyelids sag and that’s when you feel it: the sharp, piercing feeling of being bitten. Hard. One on your shoulder from behind and one on the opposite side of your neck. Your eyes fly open and all you see is Mingyu's dark head of hair. Somewhere in the room, along with the wet, slapping, sounds of them drilling into you, you hear slurping. The slurping of your blood in the mouths of these men that you now know for sure are not just men.
They’re drinking your fucking blood.
And that realization alone has you falling apart again, your mouth falling open in a silent scream, body twitching in their holds.
“Fuck - fuck! Gonna stuff you so fucking full, baby!” Mingyu removes his mouth from your neck, shooting his load into you first, the sensation making you groan out, albeit weakly. 
Jungkook tumbles over the edge right after him, his sticky seed coating your insides, dripping out, and sliding down your cheeks.
You’re still reeling from what is likely the most powerful orgasm you’ve ever experienced, body sagging, feeling completely boneless.
“Did you cum again after we drank from you?” Jungkook mumbles as they slide out of you, still keeping you in their arms.
“Mmhmm,” is all you can manage, eyelids fluttering, fighting to stay open.
“Fuck. You really are perfect, baby. We gotta keep her, Gyu.” 
Mingyu chuckles, finally setting you on the bed, and letting you flop onto the comforter. 
“Yeah, I think we might have to. Would you like that, little mouse? Wanna be ours?” 
“Mmhmm…” You think you have something else to say, but instead, you finally lose the battle to exhaustion, your eyes sliding closed and sleep taking hold of you.
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“Y/n? Hey, Y/n?” 
The sound of your name jerks you awake, and your eyes shoot open to take in your surroundings. 
Sana’s face is peering down at you when you finally focus, concern etched into her features.
“Huh?”
“You’re up! We were getting a little worried, you’ve been sleeping for a while. Feeling okay?”
You sit up slowly, your head feeling groggy as you take in your surroundings. You’re on your couch in your apartment. You can see Jihyo in the kitchen staring at you looking concerned too. In the distance a toilet flushes and you assume it’s Jeongyeon.
“I’m fine,” you finally say. “Why are we at my apartment?”
“Well, your boyfriends texted us that we should take you home because you were so exhausted you passed out. They carried you out to the car and everything. Very gentlemanly.”
“By the looks of those marks, I think they treated you the opposite of gentlemanly in the bedroom?” Jeongyeon eyes your neck as she enters the room wiggling her eyebrows.
When you glance down, you see what she means. Your chest and what you see of your shoulders are covered in bruises. When you touch your neck you feel two small punctures in the skin and you flush from head to toe. You had almost wondered if you dreamt about the whole encounter with Mingyu and Jungkook, but you hadn’t.
“Oh, yeah. They definitely weren’t gentle,” you can’t but help giggle at the memory of the night you’ve had. The ache between your legs and your cheeks is also a stark reminder.
Your friends don’t say anything about where either Mingyu or Jungkook went when they left you in their care, but they wouldn’t just disappear, right? They said they wanted to keep you which means something, you’d like to think.
Lucky for you, it’s not something you have to ponder for long. As you’re settling into bed for the night, your phone vibrates with a text from an unknown number. 
When you go to your messages you see a group chat with you and two other people. Opening it rewards you with an image - two familiar-looking mouths smiling widely. You can only see from their noses down to their chins, but both grins show off very pointy canines, one mouth decorated with two lip rings. 
You’re trying to rack your brain as to what to respond with - it’s not like you could have anticipated that being bitten by actual fucking vampires would be so damn hot.
A text from the other number comes in a minute after the picture.
Good night, little mouse. Let us know when and where we can see you again. 😉
You start to type, then erase the message three times, unsure of how desperate you want to sound. 
Then you decide, fuck it. It’s obvious they want you just as much as you want them, so who cares if you sound desperate? 
So, you keep it short and sweet.
Whenever and wherever you want. Duh.
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Net tags: @kflixnet @kbookshelf
I’ve wanted to write a Mingyu/Jungkook threesome since they did that live together that one time. And then the 3D challenge happened and my brain said NOWNOWNOW so here we are!
512 notes · View notes
munson-blurbs · 1 year
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Billy Hargrove is into you, and you assume that you don't deserve better than that narcissistic douchebag. When heartbreak inevitably happens, Eddie Munson is there to pick up the pieces.
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI!), oral (f! receiving), protected p in v, Billy is a POS, reader is insecure about her body (no descriptions given, though she mentions not liking her stomach)
**Billy is very manipulative to get reader to sleep with him, though she does consent**
WC: 5.7k
A/N: This is based on two real experiences I had when I was younger. It's incredibly self-indulgent, but has also been wonderful for my healing process. I hope it can help someone else, too. (Also, sorry if it's rambly; it was cathartic but also emotionally difficult to write).
--
As the last swimmer exits through the iron gates, you breathe a sigh of relief at the end of another shift. Lifeguarding at Hawkins Community Pool wasn’t necessarily a difficult job, but it sure was tedious. Your flip-flops thwap against the pavement as you pad into the locker room to get dressed, skin sticky from sunscreen and that infamous mid-July humidity.
“So,” Heather says, twisting her blonde hair into a ponytail as she changes from her swimsuit into shorts and a t-shirt, “you ready to hear that secret?”
You nod enthusiastically. It’s all you’d been thinking about since you’d climbed down the lifeguard tower when her watch duty began, and she’d whispered that she had something to say to you privately. 
Heather’s eyes gleam as she announces, “Billy told me he thinks you’re hot!” She claps her hands together excitedly. “Not that he needed to; anyone can watch him check you out all day long,” she adds with a smirk. 
“Me?” you ask incredulously, unable to muffle your surprise. On instinct, you wrap your arms around your waist protectively. Heather might be comfortable changing in public, but your own body insecurities made it torturous for you to even be naked privately. 
“Yes, you!” your co-worker giggles. “You should talk to him.”
You’re still mulling over the prospect of Billy Hargrove being into you when your ride pulls up to the pool gates. Waving goodbye to Heather, you hop in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van. He picks you up every night you work, and the two of you always split a joint in your backyard before he heads back to the trailer park. It makes your crappy summer job all worth it; God knows the pay isn’t even going to cover your textbooks when you go back to college in August.
“Save any little gremlins today?” he jokes, turning down his music so he can hear your answer.
You shake your head and laugh. “Nah, just yelled, ‘no running!’ about 84 times.” Leaning back in the seat and stretching your legs, you glance over at him. “But Heather told me something interesting.” Eddie cocks his eyebrow, and you take that as a sign to continue. “Apparently, Billy Hargrove thinks I’m hot.” You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. Sure, he’s not exactly your knight in shining armor, but he’s an attractive guy who has a thing for you.
“Oh, ew.” Eddie wrinkles his nose. “Please describe the look on that douche canoe’s face when you turn him down.”
“Who says I’m turning him down?” you quip, crossing your arms over your chest. 
Your best friend sighs. “Well, you should,” he says pointedly, never one to mince words. “Guys like Hargrove only want to get in a girl’s pants and then find a new victim.”
“Why are you being such a bummer?” you snap. Eddie just keeps his eyes on the road, oblivious to your glare. “If Jeff was about to get laid, you’d be throwing him a goddamn parade!”
He chuckles tersely. “That’s because Jeff getting laid would be a fuckin’ miracle.”
You look around, exaggerating your movements for emphasis. “Well, asshole, I don’t exactly see a line of people forming to sleep with me, either.” With that, you pull your knees to your chest and turn your body so that your back is to him.
The car is silent, save for the sounds of Metallica’s Ride the Lightning album crackling through the speakers. After what seems like an eternity, Eddie pulls into your driveway and throws the van in park.
“Did…did you still wanna smoke?” he asks quietly, twiddling with a loose thread on the ripped knee of his jeans.
“Nope.” You jump out of the van, slamming the door shut behind you. “And you don’t have to drive me home tomorrow. I bet Billy will do it.”
You hear him calling your name as you stalk into your house. Honestly, you could really use some weed right now, but you’re too infuriated at him to push it all aside for a quick smoke session.
The next day, you make a point to sit next to Billy when you take your break. He’s smoking a cigarette, occasionally flicking ash into a chipped tray on the table. 
“Can I bum one?” you ask, pointing to the rolled tobacco between his plush lips. 
Billy smirks, reaching for the pack of Marlboros and holding it out to you. “Didn’t peg you for a smoker, sugar.” He passes you his lighter, and you spark up and inhale deeply.
“I usually prefer something greener, but this’ll do.” You take another drag, trying to work up the nerve to say what’s on your mind. As the smoke curls around your mouth, you notice Billy’s eyes trail down the curves of your body, as though he’s trying to drink you in. “Something I can help you with, Hargrove?” you tease, impressed with the way you easily flirt with him. It’s so unlike you, but it feels good.
“Yeah,” he says, chuckling softly. “You can hang with me tonight. Got the place to myself, so, y’know…” He trails off and raises his eyebrows, looking at you expectantly.
Your stomach flip-flops despite yourself. This is what you want, right? No more waiting around for Prince Charming to sweep you off your feet. It’s not going to happen, never going to happen, not when you look the way you do. And if a gorgeous man like Billy Hargrove is actually willing to have sex with you, you’re in no position to turn him down. “O-Okay,” you stammer, hoping he doesn’t sense your nervousness. “I’m working till nine tonight; is that–”
“Perfect,” he interrupts, flashing you a megawatt smile. “I finish at six, but I’ll stick around just for you, pretty thing.”
Pretty. He called you pretty, and he wants you. Wants you enough to hang out at work for an extra three hours just to be with you.
The rest of your shift drags by; all you can think about is Billy. The way he feels, the way he tastes, what he looks like underneath those swim trunks.
The only problem is that he’ll also want to see you naked. The thought sours your mood. You try not to catch glimpses of yourself in the bathroom mirror after you get out of the shower, and now you’re about to let him see you, completely vulnerable.
Stop being such a baby, you scold yourself. Beggars can’t be choosers.
Billy’s waiting outside the locker room once your shift ends. He takes your hand in his larger, stronger one, and leads you to his car.
“Seems kinda silly, getting changed out of that cute little swimsuit,” he whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine, “when you’re gonna get undressed again so soon.” He leans you up against the passenger door, pinning your hips back and kissing you hungrily. One hand roams under your t-shirt to the swell of your breasts, breaking away when he feels the fabric of your bra. “You tryin’ to hide these from me, sugar?” He starts to reach for the clasp, but you stand up a bit straighter.
“Did you wanna, like, grab something to eat?” you ask shyly. “We can stop by Benny’s on the way to yours if…if you like burgers?” You cringe as the words leave your lips. Could you sound any more pathetic?
Billy just chuckles patronizingly. “That sounds like a date, and, uh, I don’t do dates.” He leans in, taking your earlobe between his teeth. “But I do other stuff real well.”
Something isn’t right. This isn’t what you want, but you should want it, and so you push down the apprehension and try to focus on the man in front of you. “That’s fine,” you murmur, even though it isn’t. People have casual sex all the time. It doesn’t mean he’s any less attracted to you. Like he said, he’s not the dating type, so why cause problems where none exist?
“I don’t know if I can wait until we get to mine,” he growls, and you can practically taste the spearmint gum that he was chewing earlier. “Might just have to do you in the backseat, hm?”
You nod as he opens the door for you, pretending for a millisecond to be a gentleman. He clambors in behind you and slams it shut, pulling you onto his lap so you’re straddling his waist. You can feel his erection pressed against your clothed sex, and you allow yourself to smile. You did this to him. You got him hard. Not Chrissy Cunningham, or Heather, or Bo Derek. You.
He starts to take off your shirt, but you push his hands away. “Something wrong?” he asks, giving an exasperated sigh. Did you already fuck this up?
“N-No, it’s just…” you avert your gaze, too embarrassed to make eye contact. “Could I keep my shirt on? I don’t really like my body, and I’d just feel better if I didn’t, um, take it off.” Heat blazes behind your cheeks, and you will yourself not to cry.
“For fuck’s sake,” Billy grumbles under his breath, flexing his biceps as he stretches. He lets his hands fall to your ass with a soft smack. “You got me all worked up, and now you’re not even gonna let me see your tits?”
You duck your head in shame. “I’m kinda insecure about the way I look,” you admit, hoping it will soften his heart. Though kinda is an understatement. 
He rolls his eyes, running his tongue over his teeth impatiently. “Y’know,” he finally says, squeezing the plush of your ass, “you might feel better about yourself if you got naked for me.” 
You inhale sharply; that’s not at all what you expected him to say. Maybe something reassuring; something about how much he liked the way you look. Instead, he’s clearly irritated with your hesitation. 
“M-Maybe.” It’s worth a shot, and you slowly peel off your top and unhook your bra, letting it fall to the floor of the car. You watch anxiously as his eyes flit across your bare chest, waiting for his reaction. An indication that he just has to have you and only you.
Instead, he clicks his tongue and simply says, “not bad.” He fumbles with your shorts button before unfastening his own. He strokes his cock lazily, staring at you. “Touch yourself, sugar. Get yourself ready f’me.”
There’s something screaming at you that this isn’t right; he should at least attempt to get you off instead of asking you to do the work for him. But you do as you’re told, not wanting to humiliate yourself further. 
You shimmy out of your shorts, pushing your panties aside and rubbing slow, timid circles around your clit. You’ve done this plenty of times to know what feels good, yet you can’t seem to get it right when it counts. Billy doesn’t notice—or care—that the moans floating past your lips are fake, and he lines himself up with your entrance. 
“Condom?” you remind him, and he rolls his eyes again.
“Doesn’t feel as good,” he grumbles, but he reaches into his wallet and pulls out the square piece of foil and tears it open, sliding the rubber over his thick cock. He pushes into you, not bothering to take his time as he ruts up. “Move your hips for me,” he tells you. “Bounce up and down; damn, do I gotta walk you through everything?”
Tears prickle at your eyes, and you manage to blink them away before he can see. Maybe this’ll get easier with time, you think. Maybe I’m just too nervous. You will yourself to relax, holding onto his broad shoulders as you lean down to kiss him.
“Feels good, yeah?” Billy grunts, and you nod as you zone out. You throw out a few more half-hearted whines as his hips stutter against your pelvis and he spills into the condom. “Fuck, there ya go, take it,” he croons, sweat trickling down his forehead. As soon as he rides out his orgasm, he’s hoisting you off of him so he can clean himself up. “Same time tomorrow?”
“Yeah, sure.” You try to sound enthusiastic. “Could you, um, drive me home?”
“Whatever,” he shrugs, but waits for you to put your clothes back on and climb into the passenger seat.
He wants to do this again tomorrow, meaning he wasn’t completely repulsed by your body. So everything should be good, right?
The next week and a half is filled with lust-fueled backseat romps, usually ending with Billy coming and you…well, returning home to use your trusty vibrator. You’re starting to feel a bit more comfortable, but not in your own skin. It’s more that there’s a certain power behind Billy choosing you when he could be with literally anyone else. You hold your head a little higher, walk a little taller. Even your parents notice on your weekend trip to visit your grandparents in Indianapolis, though you didn’t clue them in on the source of your newfound confidence.
When you get back to the pool that Monday, you’re about to whisper in Billy’s ear to ask if he has a second to “check out a situation in the locker room” with you. What you find stops you dead in your tracks.
His arm is wrapped around Heather. They’re laughing together and she presses her lips to his cheek; he tilts her chin so he can kiss her passionately. It’s more tender, more loving than the way he kisses you.
The ground starts to spin, and you grab onto a plastic chair to steady yourself. As soon as Heather walks away, you march over to Billy.
“What the fuck?” you hiss, trying to keep your volume down. You wince as your voice cracks, giving away the sadness tucked inside your frustration. “Are you with Heather now? Like, with her?”
“Uh, guess so,” Billy replies snidely, twirling a toothpick between his teeth.
You bite your lower lip, willing yourself not to cry. “I thought you said you weren’t the dating type?”
He shrugs. “Just kinda happened,” he says nonchalantly, as if he didn’t just destroy your world. “You were away, she asked me to go to Scoops and grab some ice cream; one thing led to another, and…” he trails off. “Not like you and I were exclusive or some shit.”
“Because you didn’t wanna be!”
“And why do you think that is, huh?” Billy shoots back. “Why do you think I’d rather be with Heather than with you?” He scoffs, leaning back in his chair slightly. “You’re so goddamn uptight, y’know? Always worrying about the way you look, about people seeing us in the car. Heather just…goes with the flow. I can’t deal with someone so high-maintenance. Actually, most guys can’t.” With that, he storms out of the break room, leaving you trembling.
A wave of nausea washes over you as you slump down in a seat. All you wanted was to be wanted, and you blew it. Billy’s right; your insecurities keep you unloveable.
You try to take deep breaths, letting the tears slip down your cheeks. Your shift doesn’t start for another ten minutes, so you pray that you’re able to collect yourself before you’re due to start your watch. You’re sobbing too hard to notice the two boys peering into the lounge, watching you with growing concern before dashing to the nearest payphone. 
You slide on your sunglasses to hide your red, puffy eyes. The last thing you need is people asking you what’s wrong. Just as you’re about to walk over to the lifeguard stand–to switch with Billy, of all people–you feel a tap on your shoulder.
Eddie.
“Um, hey,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his head nervously. “Will and Dustin called; said they saw Hargrove yelling at you, and you crying. Told me to ‘get my scrawny ass here, stat.’” He gives a terse chuckle. “Exact quote, by the way.”
You want to wrap your arms around him and never let go, but you remember what he said to you. Worse, that he was right. “‘M fine,” you lie, and Eddie sees right through it.
He gingerly takes off your sunglasses, heart breaking as he gets a glimpse of your tearful expression. “C’mere,” he says, pulling you in for a tight hug and pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. It’s so tender, sweet, and selfless. It’s Eddie.
“Go tell your boss that you’re not feeling well, yeah?” he says finally, still not letting you go. “We can go grab something to eat, and you can tell me everything.”
“‘M not hungry,” you shake your head, “and I just wanna go home.” Your voice is whiny, but you’re too sad to care.
“Okay, well, you’re still leaving,” Eddie insists, and you don’t have the energy to argue. “The sheep,” he gestures to where Dustin and Will are standing, and they wave as though they’ve been caught, “will tell your boss that you’re sick. Lady problems or whatever.” You feel his fingers intertwine with yours as he leads you to his van. “And you can tell me as much as you want, ‘kay?”
You nod wordlessly as Eddie gives the younger kids a thumbs-up. He normally chooses the music, whether he’s the driver or the passenger, but this time, he tilts his chin towards the radio and says, “all yours.”
You turn the dial until you hear a Fleetwood Mac song, expecting Eddie to crack a joke or complain about your selection, but he just taps the steering wheel to the beat. When he drives to a gas station to fill up his tank, you don’t think anything of it until he comes back out with a bag full of Haagen-Daaz.
“Got all your favorite flavors,” he announces, plopping back into the driver’s seat. “I know you said you’re not hungry, but you will be at some point. So…sustenance.”
A smile tugs at your lips, and you manage a small “thanks,” as he drives you back to your place. When he pulls into the driveway, he waits awkwardly for you to say anything else.
Finally, he breaks the silence by handing you the bag from the Shell station. “Don’t want this to melt,” he offers lamely, frowning when you burst into a fresh round of tears. You hear him mutter, “that’s it,” and he kills the engine, jumping out of the van to run to your side. “Up and at ‘em.” He pulls you out of your seat, scooping you up and flinging you over his shoulder with ease. He kicks the van door closed, walking to your front door before setting you down. 
“That’s my favorite method of transportation,” you giggle softly, and he breathes a sigh of relief as your humor peeks through. 
“Save a horse, ride a Munson, right?” he jokes back, blushing when he realizes the double entendre he just made. “Uh, anyway, I can leave if you want…” He stuffs his hands into his back pockets nervously. 
“You can come in,” you say, unlocking the door. He follows you, heading straight for the kitchen and grabbing two spoons from the drawer. 
“Figured we could start with cookie dough,” he says, holding out the pint. “Ladies first.”
The two of you sit on the couch in comfortable silence as you dig into dessert. Halfway through, you look up at him through misty eyes. “I’m waiting for the ‘I told you so,’” you say softly. 
“Huh?”
You tell Eddie everything: Billy’s claim that he wanted something casual, his reaction to you asking to keep your shirt on, the venom he spewed earlier today. “I never should’ve trusted him.”
But Eddie’s seeing red, fists clenched and jaw squared in pure rage. “The fuck did he say?” He stands up so quickly that he nearly knocks over the pint of ice cream. 
“Where are you going?”
“To kick his sorry ass!” Eddie exclaims, grabbing his keys from the table where he tossed them. 
“He’s not worth it,” you tell him. “Just…can you stay here and eat ice cream with me? Please?”
“Fine,” Eddie grumbles, plopping back down next to you. “But I still wanna punch him in the face.”
“You and me both,” you agree, taking another spoonful before posing the question you’ve been too afraid to ask. “Do you think I’m a slut?”
Eddie nearly chokes on his bite of cookie dough. “A slut? Because you slept with some douchebag?”
“No,” you say quietly, “for having sex with someone because I wanted to feel beautiful.”
His whole body deflates. “That’s why you…why wouldn’t you think you’re beautiful?”
You bark out a tense laugh. “Where to start? Um, my face, my hair, my body…oh, and apparently, now I’m too insecure and uptight to love, so…”
Eddie cradles your face between his strong, calloused hands. “Listen to me,” he says. “You are the most goddamn beautiful person on this Earth. Your eyes…I could stare into them all day. You have the cutest nose I’ve ever seen. Your smile makes me smile. And your hair…no matter how you wear it, you always look good. Sometimes you say things like, ‘ugh, my hair’s a mess today,’ and I’m just flabbergasted.”
“Flabbergasted?” you interject, amused by his word choice.
“Flabbergasted,” Eddie affirms. “And your body is…I’m gonna sound like such a creep here, so forgive me, but your body is so fucking hot. Like the night we had that argument, you said something about no one else wanting to sleep with you. But I know for a fact that that’s not true.”
“It’s not? Who wants to sleep with me?”
Eddie laughs nervously as he slowly raises his hand. “Um, me? But not, like, in a smash-and-dash way. Like in a take you on dates, hold your hand, be your boyfriend kinda way? Oh my God, just tell me to shut up. Please.”
“You’re just saying that to cheer me up,” you mutter.
“Nope. It’s the truth. Cross my heart.” He makes the slashes across his chest with his fingers. “Wait…the thought of us together cheers you up?”
You nod shyly. “Just never thought you’d be into me like that.”
“Well, I am. I so fuckin’ am, holy shit.” Eddie looks like he wants to kiss you, but he’s holding back. “Can I take you on a date? Maybe tomorrow?”
“I’d love a date with you, Eddie Munson.” You watch as a grin spreads across his face, and you rest your head on his shoulder. He lays his arm along the back of the couch, not quite sure whether to put it around you. That’s how the two of you fall asleep as the remaining ice cream melts in its container.
Seeing Billy at work the next day still stings a bit, but it’s easier than it was. You know he’s an idiot, a player, a manipulative piece of shit. And you have a date with Eddie, who is the kindest, gentlest soul you’ve ever met. And you deserve that kindness.
Eddie picks you up from work as usual, but instead of his typical ripped jeans and a concert tee, he’s wearing…well, un-ripped jeans and a concert tee. But he smells like a new cologne as he kisses your cheek, blushing as he pulls away.
“You look absolutely incredible,” he muses, reaching over to hold your hand. “Seriously, I’m so lucky you agreed to go out with me, shit.” He smiles at you, shaking his head.
“What?”
“Nothin’, I just…” He can’t seem to shed his dopey, lovesick grin. “Told myself I wasn’t gonna kiss you; like, kiss you kiss you, until the end of the date. But you just look so goddamn gorgeous.”
“Shut up,” you duck your head, trying to hide from him. “I’m the lucky one. My date is hot and has a kickass personality to match.”
“Guess we both got lucky tonight.” Eddie bites his lower lip when he realizes what he’s just implied. “I mean–”
You squeeze his hand, effectively silencing his racing thoughts. “Where are you taking me?” you ask, trying to change the subject. It’s not that you were embarrassed by his Freudian slip, but after what happened with Billy, you weren’t looking to rush into sex.
“You’ll see,” Eddie says, excitement building in his voice. A few moments later, you’re walking into the Coffee and Contemplation Café, with Eddie holding the door open for you. Your sundress swishes along your thighs as you take a seat across from Eddie. He immediately takes your hands in his, caressing them with his thumbs.
“Eds?”
“Mm?”
“I need to look at the menu.”
“Oh.” He lets go of your hands, looking a bit sad as he does. “Sorry, baby. Shit–can I call you that?”
“Yeah,” you say. “I really like that, actually.” Baby. You’re Eddie’s “Baby.”
When the waitress comes around, you order a vanilla latte, and Eddie orders coffee with cream and two sugars. “That’s what Wayne always orders when we go to the diner,” he explains. The two of you decide to split a piece of crumb cake–one slice, two forks.
“This is a really nice date, Eds.” You wrinkle your nose. “Hmm. I need a cute nickname for you now, huh?”
Eddie taps his chin as though he’s deep in thought. “How about…stud muffin?” He feigns offense when you giggle. “What? Am I not studly?”
“Oh, the studliest,” you reassure him, still laughing. “I like ‘babe,’ though. Because you are a babe.”
“I dunno…kinda like stud muffin better,” Eddie teases, taking a sip of his coffee. “Now, tell me all about your day.”
And so you fill him in on every detail, from the kid who peed in the pool to the mother who berated the lifeguards for “allowing” it to happen. “Like we can control their bladders or something,” you add with an eye roll, and Eddie cackles. A strand of hair falls in his face, and you tuck it behind his ear.
“Thanks, baby,” he murmurs, peering at you from under impossibly long lashes. That’s when you lean in and kiss him, soft and slow and sweet. He’s not expecting it; probably thinking he was going to initiate when he dropped you back off at home. His lips remain frozen for a second until his brain registers what’s happening. Then he’s kissing you back, palm on your cheek.
“Was that okay?” you ask finally. Eddie’s response is to slam a $10 bill on the table and grab your hand, leading you back to his van. He kisses you again against the side door; it reminds you of how Billy kissed you that night that you…
Eddie notices that you’ve stopped kissing him back, and he pulls away. “Baby? You good?”
“Y-Yeah,” you stammer. He’s not Billy. Not even close. Not even a little bit. You take a deep breath. “Just nervous, c-cause the last time I did this, it, uh, didn’t end well for me.”
Eddie wraps his arms around your waist, gently pulling you towards him. “Hey, hey,” he coos. “There’s no rush, yeah? And I’d never–never make you do anything you’re not ready for.”
“I know.” And you do. So for now, you just rest your head against his chest, listening to the beautiful sound of his heartbeat.
The next month before you leave for school is filled with dates, each better than the last. Eddie takes you to the carnival, the drive-in movie theater, picnics at Lover’s Lake…anywhere he can. The kissing gets more fun; you’re able to focus on Eddie–your Eddie–and not on your past experiences.
The night before you’re set to go back to college, you’re ready to take that next step with him. The two of you are sitting on his bed and listening to music; your plans for an outdoor music festival having been squandered by the pouring rain. You move closer to him, straddling his waist as you press your lips to his neck.
“‘M gonna miss you s’much,” you pout, moving your mouth to his. “Want you, babe. All of you.”
Eddie gives a terse chuckle. “I want you too; so fuckin’ bad. But we don’t have to do this just because you’re leaving. I’m not gonna break up with you. In fact, I…” he swallows thickly before continuing, “I think I love you, baby. Shit, no; I know I love you.”
“I know I love you, too,” you smile, kissing him again. “And I want to have sex with you because I love you, and I want to show you.” You dig your fingers into Eddie’s hair, nuzzling your noses together. “Is that okay?”
“More than okay,” he breathes, hands settling on your hips. “You’ll let me know if you wanna stop, right? Just tell me, and we can go back to cuddling. Promise me.”
“I promise,” you say, and it’s the truth.
Eddie nods. “Okay. On your back, baby. Let me take care of you.” 
You do as he asks, and you feel his lips trail down your torso, stopping just before he reaches the throbbing ache between your legs. “Yes?” he looks up at you patiently.
“Yes.” With that, he unbuttons your shorts and tugs them down your legs, running his middle finger along your lace panties. He shivers as he feels how wet you are, all for him, and he nearly tears the underwear in half trying to yank it off of you.
“Wanna taste you,” Eddie mutters.
“Y-You can taste me.” You whimper, and Eddie wastes no time licking a soft stripe along your folds, easily finding your clit. “Right there.” His lips wrap around your sensitive bud, flicking his tongue over it. “Holy shit, yes, right fucking there.”
Eddie detaches from your sex for a second, chin already shiny with your slick. “Keep makin’ those pretty noises f’me, please.” He sounds just as desperate as you do as he plunges back between your legs, this time slipping a finger inside you as he licks. You’re moaning, and there’s no faking it this time. Eddie’s touch has you floating, You can vaguely sense him rutting up against the mattress, so turned on just by eating you out. He’s holding onto your hips, eyes never leaving your body.
“Gonna come, feels s’good,” you whine, never wanting this feeling to end. You grind up into his face as you ride out your orgasm, gripping the sheets and screaming his name. “Eddie, Eddie, I’m coming, holy fuck!” After he brings you back down from the high, you push yourself up onto your knees.
“Where ya goin’?” he asks. “Was that too much?”
“Just wanna return the favor.” You lean over to rub him through his tented jeans, but he shakes his head.
“Not tonight,” he mutters, “I’m too pent up. I’ll never last in that perfect little mouth of yours.” He kisses you deeply, and you can taste yourself on his lips. “Can I be inside you?”
“Yes, babe. Please.” You look down, realizing that your shirt is still on. You want to show him all of you, let him touch every last inch of your body, but you hesitate to take it off.
Eddie must be able to read your mind, because he tilts your chin in his direction. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wanna see you naked,” he admits, “but only if you’re ready. You can keep it on if you’re more comfortable.”
You inhale in for three and exhale for three before you respond. “I’m ready. I’m comfortable.” You lift the shirt above your head, revealing your bare breasts. The incredulous stare on your boyfriend’s face is almost comical. “Are you okay?” you giggle.
“No, I think I died and went to Heaven,” he says, letting his thumbs graze over your hardened nipples. He undresses himself in record time, revealing his long, thick cock. Pre-cum drips from the tip. “Baby, I wanna spend all night touching you, but I’m gonna bust if–”
“It’s okay,” you interrupt, looping your arms around his neck and kissing him. 
He reaches into his dresser drawer, pulling out a condom and removing it from its wrapper. “Can you put it on me?” he whispers, and you oblige, rolling it down his length. He hisses at your touch, too sensitive to ask you to linger there. He sets you back on the pillows, slowly pushing into you a little at a time until he’s fully inside. “Good, baby?”
“Mhm,” you mewl. “S’good. You can–you can go faster, whenever you want.”
Eddie threads his fingers with yours, putting your hands up next to your head as he rocks into you. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he groans. “The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I love you, I love you, fuck, I love you.” He punctuates each I love you with a kiss to your lips.
“I love you, Eddie. ‘M all yours.”
“All mine,” he echoes, “my baby’s all mine. And I’m hers. Her pussy belongs to me and–shit–my cock belongs to her.” He squeezes your hand, not possessively, but as a reminder that it’s him. It’s him, it’s you, it’s the two of you together. His eyes never leave yours, and he suddenly smiles. “You make me so damn happy.”
“This has been the best summer of my life,” you agree, “and it’s all because I have you, babe.” 
His chest rubs against yours ever-so-slightly, and the sensation of your breasts has him weak. “I’m gonna come.” His expression is apologetic. “Shit, I didn’t wanna–”
“Let go for me,” you assure him, feeling yourself come undone as you speak. “We c-can come together.” Your second orgasm of the evening happens on his cock as he spills into the condom with a wanton moan. He’s still for a minute, catching his breath before removing himself from your warmth.
“I love you,” he says as he kisses you, sliding off the barrier and tying it. “Let me toss this, and then can we cuddle? I kinda just wanna hold you.”
“I’m down to cuddle before round two,” you say, laughing at his dumbfounded expression. “Don’t worry; I’ll give you a few minutes to reload.”
“I’m not worried about that,” he says, climbing back into bed and sighing happily as you snuggle into his chest. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”
“Forever?”
“Forever.”
--
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uglypastels · 1 year
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Caught Me Slippin' | escort!eddie au
(a/n) yes, this fic is based on the Kiss Quotient, and, therefore also Pretty Woman. Thanks to everyone who voted on the poll for me to work on this fic. I had a lot of fun with it! So, even though its a bit all over the place, haha, I hope you still like it.
If you want to see more of this fic, please send an ask and we can chat about it but Do Not Ask For Part 2. This is a One Shot.
Summary: [modern!au] feeling insecure about your skills in bed, you decide to find someone who could help you learn. Except, when the guy actually shows up, a mistake seems to have occurred. Fortunately, you're both quite adaptable (or, at least, you try to be), and the night quickly takes off into unexpected territories.
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Word count: 13.2k
Warnings: SMUT. MINORS DNI. 18+ ONLY. dual POV. rich!female!reader. shorter than Eddie. self-consciousness. slight miscommunication - quickly resolved. swearing. drinking. awkwardness. [mention of infidelity, side characters]. non-monogamous relationship. smut. male sex work (obviously). slight dom! Eddie. inexperienced!reader. mentions of bdsm- bondage, sadomasochism. nipple piercings. nipple play. fingering. oral (f receiving). light pussy slapping. Eddie has an innocence kink. I'm probably not representing sex work 100% accurately, but this is [fan]fiction. You should always take it with a grain of salt. + apparently, kind of angsty, idk i guess I'm dead inside.
if you think I'm missing any warnings, please let me know, and I'll add them. if you do not like the sound of any of these- then this is not for you. do not read.
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All the errors left unlearned, oh
But I am the luckiest guy
Not the loneliest guy in the world
- David Bowie, The Loneliest Guy
What the hell were you doing? 
Sitting at a bar, which was mistake number two. One of many, for that matter. The third was ordering a drink you knew you wouldn’t drink but had picked when panic swooped over you as the bartender walked up. The red liquid looked quite pretty, but you could smell the alcohol the second the girl put the glass in front of you. An attempt at a sip was made, and you brought it to your lips, but the bitterness overwhelmed you. 
There was one thing you had gotten right, and that was at least picking a bar that wasn’t crowded. The music played at just the right volume, and people kept to themselves, to their booths and their tables. You tried to let your mind wander off, not to overthink– that would only cause more anxiety– but it always went back to what the people around you were talking about. You never meant to be nosy, and you never butted in… but it was entertaining what random strangers had to say to each other.
— You’re shitting me. 
— No, I’m serious. Sarah told me herself. She walked in, and there he was, fucking their pool boy. 
The table behind you erupted in a chorus of gasps. 
— Poor Sarah, though. 
— Yeah, well, she had been sleeping with her yoga instructor. 
How were people so comfortable talking about such things in public? Where everyone could listen in? You almost felt bad for this Sarah that her complicated marriage was being shared with the entirety of this small bar, surely then retold all across the city.
You glanced around you, side to side. The bar counter was quite long, with enough space for eight barstools to stand next to each other. Besides yours, four more were occupied. Having opted for the last chair, you were worried about someone sitting on one of your neighbouring chairs, but luck had been in your favour.
That is, until he showed up. 
Your first, and probably, the biggest mistake that you made that night.
From the second that Eddie sat down beside her, he could tell something was wrong. He always could with such things. As well as assume what might have been the cause of the problem. 
Her eyes widened, nearly doubled in size, as he sat down next to her. He couldn’t have made a mistake; she had sent what she would look like and be wearing, and the description was accurate. She should have known what Eddie would look like as well; that’s basically what the whole selection was based on, look, and yet… the way she stared at him… he had the urge to wave his hand in front of her to make sure she wasn’t going into shock. 
‘Hey,’ instead, he opted for a kind smile as he leaned against the bar, asking for a quick confirmation of her name, and took a moment to take her in properly while she defrosted and returned to reality.  She was cute, to his surprise, definitely not the type he would usually be coming across these nights. Pretty and young, but mostly, shy. The bar was definitely not in her comfort zone, and he had picked up on that the second he noticed het sitting there, back stiff in nerves, drink untouched except for the little straw she stirred around in circles mindlessly. At first, he thought, maybe it’s all an act. The shy and naive girl next door, he was into it, but no. Now he knew better; she was terrified. 
A few seconds later, when his eyes moved back up to her face, she spoke her first words. 
‘Who are you?’
There had been a mistake. There must have been. Whoever the guy sitting next to you was, he was not the guy you had paid for. 
Jesus that sounded so stupid. How could you have been so dumb thinking it was a good idea to hire a guy for the night. As if that would make you feel better, make all your problems disappear. 
The man blinked in confusion. Your reaction had clearly been a surprise. As he stumbled over his words, you took him in quickly. 
Long brown hair fell over his shoulders in messy waves. He had layered up, but not for practicality. You couldn’t see how the leather jacket or the denim vest over a thin t-shirt would help him against the evening cold, not to mention his ribbed jeans. Overall he looked like he had been directly cut out of an 80s rock magazine. Sure, some women must be into that kind of look; you couldn’t even deny he was pretty attractive, but it was not what you had wanted. Not for now. You needed something simple. Comfortable. Easy.
Those large rings and metal chains were most definitely not comfortable. Or simple. Or easy. 
Oh god. 
‘I’m Eddie,’ he stated, hoping it would clear something up, but her confused stare didn’t falter. ‘Didn’t you book…’ Eddie knew all the people around him were poking their noses into everyone’s business, so he tried to pick his words wisely, ‘... the appointment?’ Fuck, did he walk up to the wrong girl? He knew it would have been too good to be true to get an actual girl his age. People always lied on these forms. He was ready to apologise and walk away, but she answered. 
‘I did.’ Her eyes wavered again over him. ‘But not you. There must have been some kind of mistake, I–’ 
‘Is everything good here?’ The bartender walked up, towel across her shoulder, her piercing blue eyes digging right through Eddie. Her question had been directed at the girl, and she nodded quickly. 
‘All good, just a little misunderstanding.’ 
‘Alright then,’ The bartender sent Eddie another suspicious look before heading to the other side of the counter to take another order. This was fucking fantastic. Yeah, just great. 
‘Ok, so who did you think you were meeting?’ Eddie asked when the woman behind the bar walked away, slightly backing away from you, letting his shoulders fall.
You tried to remember the name of the guy who caught your attention last evening. Would the name mean anything to Eddie? You didn’t expect all these guys to hang around together...
‘Shit, yeah, ok, that makes sense.’ You could see all the puzzle pieces coming together behind his eyes. ‘He’s out on a date tonight as well. They must have sent us each other’s… wait,’ he quickly grabbed his phone. 
Eddie searched through his emails. It didn’t take long to ignore the few spam messages he had gotten since this morning. And there it was. The booking confirmation he had received. Having gotten them so often, he had read it on autopilot, not even realising that his own name was missing. All he had needed, he thought, was his client’s information. But there it was, literally the first two words of the email: Dear Steve… 
Oh, the office would have a field day with this. 
But some of him also could not wait to ask Steve how his date went. 
‘Yeah, they fucked it up,’ after a few seconds, Eddie had turned his phone around to show you an email. Even though you only needed the first two words to understand the mistake that occurred, you took the time to read as much of it as possible to make sure it was real. From what you could tell, it seemed legit. Just what business operated solemnly through emails… and apparently, not even automated ones. 
‘I’m really sorry for the inconvenience,’ Eddie apologised as he pulled his phone back and placed it into his pocket. ‘I can call the office and get you a refund. I promise you that this is usually nothing of the standard we usually operate at.’ You appreciated his professionalism. Despite never thinking you were that judgemental, perhaps you had actually judged him a bit too harshly at first glance. And he was quite attractive… 
‘No, wait,’ you stopped him before he could dial the number of his boss, or whoever was in charge. ‘Uhm… did your… friend… send you something? About his date?’ Steve was now, of course, also on the wrong job. Eddie looked up at you for a second, before glancing down again at his phone to check his notifications. 
‘No, haven’t heard anything from him. I guess the other person didn’t seem to care which one of us they got.’ he chuckled, which surprised you. Did other people not care about who they slept with? You get to pick a person for a reason, don’t you? 
‘I don’t need a refund.’ You stated after a short moment. Eddie glanced up once more.
‘Are you sure? It’s a lot of money–’ 
‘No, I mean, I would like to continue the night… with you.’ This was, for sure, getting out of your comfort zone, right? Being adventurous, getting a life, all that shit your friends nagged you about for years. Eddie smiled with the corner of his mouth. 
‘Alright then, would you like to get out of here?’ 
‘Yes, please,’ you let out a sigh of relief. Thankfully, the volume in the space picked up quite a lot as more people entered, drowning out your conversation, but it was getting a bit too much for you. ‘Just… one minute.’ you stood up, heading to the bathroom, but Eddie called your attention for one more second. 
‘You forgot your purse.’ he looked down at the ground where your bag was lying. You gave him an awkward smile and picked it up before making your way to the back of the bar.
Closing the stall door behind you, you wished for some decent internet; thankfully, it wasn’t the worst. You didn’t bother trying to be quick about it. There was no doubt in your mind that he knew you were looking him up online. With shaking hands, you typed in the name of the agency where you had found Steve. They had a list of all their “models”, as they nicely labelled them, and you scrolled through them. There was the guy you had planned on spending the night with. You had picked him because he looked sweet, and hot, obviously, but with enough cockiness thrown in the mix to tell you he knew what he was doing. And the little sales pitch the website had written up for him to sell the fantasy worked well. You didn’t bother rereading it now, but it was something to do with “the sweet jock that knows how to take care of his girl”. It was extremely cheesy, you were more than aware of that, but cheesy was good. It was safe. 
Your friends would have probably laughed at you. 
They probably would have picked out a guy like Eddie. 
Speaking of the guy waiting for you at the bar, you found his profile. First thing first, the picture. That was definitely him; you recognised the unruly dark hair and brown eyes. He had several photos posted in his profile, like most of the men on the website, and they were of semi-professional quality: self-taken, but with a very nice camera and lighting. He had put effort into his presentation. First, there was the portrait, showing his handsome face, shirtless but cropped to the shoulder, revealing enough of the silver chain around his neck but not showing what was actually hanging off it. 
The following picture was a full-body pose, with clothes on that were not significantly different from the ones he was wearing now. No denim vest, but a different leather jacket on top of a black shirt. Dark denim jeans with a belt, buckled by what looked like to be steel handcuffs… had he been wearing that tonight as well? 
Your throat tightened up as you swiped to the next post, which was, of course, the obligatory nude. All the “models” had to have them, since that was basically what people paid for. If it wasn’t for the fact that the site saw itself as one of the “classier” agencies out there, the naked pictures would have been the only ones available. You, for one, appreciated the variety. 
Eddie was posed on a bed, on his knees. With one hand in his hair, and the other over his thigh, he didn’t leave anything to the imagination. Despite not even looking at the camera, the smug smile on his face told you he knew exactly what he was doing. He got you looking, and he knew you liked it. Yet, what you couldn’t stop looking at were the tattoos that covered his pale skin. Dozens of them, at least, varying in size and style, covering most of his arms, upper legs, ribs…
You scrolled on, remembering he was still waiting for you outside, but the next picture didn’t make anything better. 
It had been a session shot. You had stumbled across similar ones on your initial look at the website. The men posing out the act of some kind of intercourse. Different positions, different actions, whatever described their style in the profession. For Eddie, that included the shot of a naked woman in bed, the same bed in which he had taken the previous picture. Her limbs were spread apart, tied to the bed corners. Her eyes were covered with a black and white bandana, and the rest of the features tightened in bliss as Eddie was positioned between her legs. His mouth was right at her core. If that wasn’t enough, he had put some props up on display next to the woman; some extra handcuffs, a vibrator and what you assumed to be a flogger. 
What the hell were you getting yourself into?
She returned after a few minutes, and Eddie could immediately tell his assumption was right. The poor thing couldn’t look him in the face. She sat back down on the barstool, holding onto her purse, lip between her teeth and eyes on anything but him. Yeah, she had looked him up. 
In all honesty, he thought it was a good thing. He didn’t care for people who didn’t do their research into things. Saying that, as quite a spontaneous person, you couldn’t jump into things head first all the time. Sometimes, it was important to test the waters. Make sure there were no sharks swimming around.
‘I paid for your drink,’ Eddie remembered. She looked at him, stunned. 
‘Oh, you really didn’t have to.’ Did she seem apologetic? 
‘Please, its the least I can do, for, you know, being the wrong guy and all.’ He smiled, hoping she would return the favour. The corner of her mouth curved up the smallest amount, still quite unsure of the situation. 
‘Really, I–’ she was ready to get her wallet, most likely pay him back, but Eddie stopped her by placing his hand over hers. That made her freeze, look back up at him. Eddie felt two pairs of eyes on him. Hers, and the bartender behind him, most definitely reassessing the whole situation. Everything about this evening was going to shit. He could probably wave his perfect 5-star rating goodbye, it wouldn’t be the end of the world, but he for sure as hell was not going to get put on any registers tonight. However, trying to seduce a stranger into bed with him when he is so clearly not the type for this girl… why was he even trying so hard?
He didn’t like using the term “vanilla”, it got too much of a bad rep, but that is what she seemed to be. Her clothes weren’t flashy, not even considering for “outgoing”. She wasn’t the type to go out and hook up, let alone get an escort. He wasn’t surprised she had decided to go for a guy like Steve. But Steve wasn’t here; Eddie was. He now had the job of taking care of this girl in any way she wanted him to.
‘Ok, shall we?’ She took a deep breath as she got up. 
‘Are you–’ maybe they should talk about this? He didn’t want her to do anything she wasn’t comfortable with. 
‘C’mon,’ next thing he knew, she grabbed Eddie by the wrist and whisked him off the barstool, dragging him along outside. It was early in the year, but late in the evening. The air was crispy, and the wind blew harshly. Eddie had definitely not dressed warm enough for the night, but that would have been an understatement for her. She would freeze in a few minutes. 
‘I got a room in the hotel just across the corner,’ she spoke, rather determined. Some people might have mistaken it for confidence, but Eddie saw the other signs. Her clenched jaw, her consistent avoidance of eye contact… she was putting on a brave face. And that’s how people get into situations they don’t want to be in. 
If it had been warmer, he would have stopped them on the street, but he had to get her out of the cold, so he let the girl drag him across the sidewalk to the hotel's entrance. It was big. The warm lighting reflecting off of all the decor, giving it a golden glow. 
She did not stop walking until they reached the elevator. She clicked the button, and the arrow above the doors pointed down. The numbers slowly descended from 14. 
‘I know you looked me up.’ Eddie started, having no idea how to introduce the topic fluently. 
‘Ok.’ She was biting her lip nervously. 
‘So I know you know what my usual gig is.’ They both watched the numbers go down. 7… 6… 
‘So we’re on the same page.’ She glanced up at him; he could see it in the reflection of the metal doors. 
‘I don’t think we are.’ The elevator pinged open as Eddie said so. They walked inside. 
‘What do you mean?’ She finally looked him in the eye, only momentarily, but he saw that some of her fear slowly faded as she pressed the button to her floor. 15. 
‘That, yes, I usually am pretty rough with my clients,’ he couldn’t hide the smile on his face, but could anyone blame him? He enjoyed his work. ‘But that’s because they want me to be rough.’ He looked at her intensely. Not to intimidate her, but to show her the seriousness of his words. ‘I don’t do anything that you don’t want me to do. You paid for an evening with… well, not me, but it’s all the same. If you get your money’s worth from a good pounding, I’m more than happy to oblige. From cuddling and watching a movie? All fine by me.’ 
It’s all the same. 
But it wasn’t, was it? They weren’t all the same. 
‘What about you?’ you asked just as the elevator opened on your floor. Eddie let you walk through first. Now, you couldn’t look away from him, letting your head almost spin around a whole 360 to get your glance at him. 
‘What about me?’ He had his hands in his pockets. Suddenly there didn’t seem to be anything scary about him. His hair was soft. His jacket, while not exactly winter-weather proof, looked cozy. The patches on his vest were hand sawn. With an image of him sitting at home, sewing them on, one by one, you got a sudden urge to ask about them, but who did that? Surely, in your situation, questions like that were out of bounds. 
‘What do you like?’ 
‘That doesn’t matter,’ he chuckled, which confused you. 
‘Doesn’t it? I might not be the most knowledgeable about the whole sex thing, but… shouldn’t both people involved be getting off? Doesn’t that make it better?’ You had reached your door. Weirdly, from having focused on the conversation as you walked, you didn’t feel any nerves unlocking the door. The room was dark, and you switched the light on. The nerves still didn’t bubble up. You could do it.
‘I suppose so– wait, you’re not a virgin, are you?’ 
You shook your head no. 
‘Ok. not that there is anything wrong with that. Everyone’s living life at their own pace, I just don’t feel comfortable with that kind of responsibility. No one’s first time should be with….’ 
‘A professional?’ you raised your eyebrow, suggesting a possibly more classy term for what he wanted to say. 
‘Nice.’ He smiled, and made his way over to the bed. You watched him get comfortable on the edge as you took off your light jacket. Your arms were freezing from the cold air outside, but the hotel room was cosy. Not to mention, the nerves were heating you up once more by the second. This was it. Eddie spread his legs wide, almost calling for your eyes to look at his thighs and how they stretched the material of the jeans. 
When your eyes moved back up to his face, you were terrified to see that he was staring right back at you, devouring you with his gaze. He definitely saw you checking him out. But it was becoming harder to concentrate when you looked at how his large hand grazed over the faint stubble on his face. 
‘C’mere,’ he said with a nod, and thoughtlessly, you followed his order. Eddie took you by both hands once you were close enough and placed them on his shoulders, then let his hands settle on your waist. His eyes found yours for a quick check. When you gave him the green light with a smile, he immediately mirrored it and asked: ‘what were your plans for this magical evening?’ He briefly tightened his grip on you and kept moving his hands up and down lightly as you tried to respond. As if that wasn’t hard enough with his eyes staring deep into you. 
‘No, uhm, nothing special.’ You didn’t need special. Special meany complicated, and you just needed someone to help you out with the basics. 
‘Making it special is kind of my one job, you know,’ he pulled you in for a hug so that his face was only a few inches away from your stomach. His arms now enveloped your frame, hands comfortably positioned over your ass. A complete stranger was hiking up the hem of your shirt, touching your bare skin underneath it. ‘So, what is it that you want?’ When he pulled up enough of your shirt to actually reveal the skin underneath, he placed a soft kiss on your side. That feeling alone felt electric. He kept on leaving fluttering kisses over your middle. It was a strange sensation as well as a pleasing one. So simple, and yet it had a great effect that you couldn’t quite explain. 
Your eyes fluttered shut as you tried to concentrate on Eddie’s question as his kisses continued. What did you want from this night? But should you tell him the complete truth? Wasn’t there some way to avoid the embarrassing details? Then again… how could he ever help you with your needs if he didn’t know what they were?
‘I want…’ you gasped lightly when his teeth grazed your skin. For some reason, that pushed you over the edge to just put everything you worried about out there. You were already here, in this hotel room, with him. Fuck it. 
‘I want you to help me be good at sex.’ 
Eddie didn’t mean to stop. He saw in her reaction that that had been the wrong thing to do. She must have seen his widened eyes and taken it for judgement, while really, it had just been a small surprise. He wasn’t exactly used to people asking him to teach them how to have sex. 
‘Sorry, uhm, nevermind. Just ignore me.’ She scratched at her neck while looking away. That won’t do. Eddie had to fix this before they would do anything else. 
‘No, wait. Let’s… let’s talk this through for a moment.’ He led her by the hand and let her sit on the bed next to him. ‘Get comfortable. Is there anything in the minibar?’ he noticed the small fridge in the closet across the room and hoped she would understand his question to ask permission to use the service provided in the room. 
‘Go ahead, take anything you want.’ 
‘Living large, are we?’ He cocked his brow before making his way over to the minibar. The selection of drinks was quite understated for a place like they were in. two cheap beers, a small bottle of champagne and two sodas. From what he had gathered at the bar, she didn’t seem to be a big drinker, so he grabbed a beer and a soda can. ‘Here.’
‘Oh, thanks.’ She didn’t look up at him as she took the can from him. Fuck, what was she embarrassed for? He doubted she would speak up in the conversation by herself, so just started out with a question. ‘Why do you think you need help with sex?’ She said she wasn’t a virgin, so she’s had experience. With a glance at her hands, he saw no ring or sign of regular wear of one. That, of course, didn’t exclude the option of a boyfriend or a partner. Maybe even a guy she just wanted to impress. The possibilities were endless, and for some strange reason, at the thought of her having sex with someone else, a strange feeling started gnawing at Eddie’s guts. 
‘Because I’ve had sex a few times and so far it’s been awful.’ She sighed. ‘But I know that, to get better at it, I would have to go and endure endless dates to find a guy who would want to sleep with me, but then what if I do meet a great guy but just put him off because I’m shit in the sack?’
‘Don’t you believe that, if you did really find the right guy, he would help you? Or not even mind your alleged lack of skills “in the sack”?’ Eddie asked, taking a sip of beer. She just looked at him with a look that told him everything. Right. Men are egoistic scum. She had a point.
‘Sorry, you must think I’m insane.’  She tapped on the top of the can. The metal ticking sounded hollow in the quiet room. 
‘I really don’t.’ If it wasn’t for the fact that he had a moral spine, he would have happily told her about some of his other clients. 
‘Yeah, but I’m just wasting your time talking your ears off with absolute nonsense,’ she tried to laugh at it, lessen the tension. 
Eddie leaned over the bed on his elbow. ‘Don’t you know that escorts are the new therapists?’ 
‘Wasn’t that bartenders?’
‘I brought you your drink, didn’t I? Call it a 2-for-1 combo deal.’ He put his beer in the air for a toast and took another sip. ‘And I was serious earlier. You already paid for the whole night, so I’m all yours, sweetheart’ He hoped that didn’t sound dismissive. The last thing he wanted to do (again) was to upset or offend this girl, who genuinely looked and seemed amazing. The idea of her not being able to find someone for herself, having to go down the process of finding someone like him to make her feel good… 
‘Are all the guys at your agency this nice?’ she looked up from the lip of her can, bringing his mind back into the room.
‘No, Steve is a giant dick,’ Eddie laughed.
‘Right, while you have one,’ she teased.
‘Ha. Funny.’ He pointed at her in appreciation before taking a sip of the beer. ‘But I suppose you’re not wrong.’ She had seen his pictures; she knew what he had in stock. He wondered what she thought of it– sure, she might not have been ready for his regular repertoire, but that didn’t mean “never”.  But what he wanted to know the most, which felt like the biggest surprise, was what did she think of him? For the first time since he started this gig, he wondered what she thought of his appearance. Did she like his tattoos? Was his hair too long, maybe? Were his clothes too shabby? Perhaps it was because she had not actually picked him. She had chosen Steve.
Oh, Stevie. They couldn’t be more different. 
‘Are you sure you’re ok with me… being here?’
‘I am.’ You didn’t know what else to reply to that question. Of course, the night was not going anything like you had expected. Until two hours ago, you were planning to have some alright sex with, what you could describe as a “regular hot guy”. Instead, you were on the bed, fully clothed, drinking a coke next to a Metallica reject. Was it too late to still do any of the things you had initially paid for, or was the mood entirely ruined? Did people recover from going into highly personal and dramatic tangents in front of the escort they had hired? 
‘Ok, cool. Just… making sure. Fair warning, I might do that a few more times through the night.’ The idea of still having an entire night to spend with Eddie made you really happy. Even if you didn’t know what to do with him in this small room. With a large king-sized bed in the middle, and not much else but the essential hotel decor, the room was perfect for exactly the reason you had booked it and not much else.
Just as you thought it was getting a bit too quiet between the two of you and had wanted to speak up with a question, Eddie opened his mouth to say something as well. So you also simultaneously apologised and let the other person say their piece. 
‘No, go ahead,’ you nudged him. Whatever he had to say would probably lead the conversation better.
‘I was just wondering, when you said “help be good with sex”, which aspect are we talking about here? Just regular? Oral? Foreplay? Like, what are we talking about here?’
‘Uhm, pretty much everything.’ You winced at yourself. So far, all your attempts at intercourse had been not great. It always felt awkward and uncomfortable. The guys would get what they were there for and didn’t feel the need to wait around for more. And if it kept on happening, then the math was simple, wasn’t it? Just look at what the overlapping factor was in all the situations. It was eventually your friends one night, after a few bottles of wine, who suggested the idea of just hiring a guy to teach you what to do. It would be so much easier. No feelings, and they know what they are doing. Foolproof plan. 
And somehow, you still managed to make things complicated and weird. 
‘Now see, I don’t believe that,’ Eddie smiled. There was no way she didn’t know how to do anything. Especially since most of it was just pure instinct. There is a reason why people call it “messing around”, and it’s not because of any guide or formula that one should be working off of to get it right. 
‘Well, then you should ask the other guys.’ Again with that little smile, trying to undermine her own feelings. 
‘No, fuck them. I bet they didn’t even make you cum.’ He accused. Her lack of response was enough of an answer. Eddie could bet his entire wage that she thought it was her fault they didn’t get her to climax and that… that actually pissed him off. How often had he had his clients tell him how their husbands, the men supposed to take care of them, never bothered to fulfil their one simple and honestly fucking delicious duty? A thought sparked in his mind, and he couldn’t keep back the grin that sprouted up with it. 
‘What?’ she asked at the sight of his smile. 
‘Have you ever?’
‘Ever what?’
‘Had a climax?’ 
‘Oh,’ the way she got shy talking about it, to Eddie’s embarrassment, turned him on. The best thing was they didn’t even have to play pretend. ‘I mean, I think?’
‘You think?’ He raised an eyebrow. 
‘Yeah, sorry,’ she cleared her throat, ‘Uhm… I’ll just be right back.’ And having said that, she ran to the bathroom. 
As she closed the door, Eddie pondered on the idea of undressing. It would speed things up, possibly breaking the icy wall that closed her off. With one naked person in the room, it was hard to think about much else, which meant less to worry about. But he didn’t think she would actually appreciate it. No, she needed to take it slow. And he would happily guide her through it all. 
You splashed some cold water in your face. There had been no reason for you to run out of the room like that except for being a total chicken. The way Eddie was so open and comfortable, talking about all of that… brought out a new fear in you. One you didn’t know you had. One you couldn’t even identify. You just knew you had to get out from under his gaze. Those big brown honey-glazed eyes. 
Why the hell did you leave the room? He was sitting so close to you. Your legs were nearly touching. He still sat with his legs spread, basically inviting you to get between them. And what do you do? Run away. 
You splashed some more water onto your face. 
There wasn’t much makeup on your face to begin the night, and whatever you had left of your mascara and blush was wiped off with the towel you grabbed. One more look in the mirror to ensure no grey ink streaks down your cheeks, and you were ready to get out again. 
Just one big breath in. and out. 
The bathroom door handle moved silently, and you pulled the door open to be met with Eddie’s chest. He was standing right in front of you. 
‘Oh, hi.’ 
‘Hey, just wanted to make sure you were ok in there.’ He knocked on the door frame in a delayed manner for extra effect. Knock knock. You noticed he had taken off his vest and jacket. Just in his t-shirt now. The sleeves ended right at his biceps, revealing the sleeves of tattoos he hid underneath all those removed layers. 
‘So are you alright?’ he asked when you didn’t respond to what he had said earlier. The question pulled your thoughts out of the clouds and your head up to look him in the eye. 
‘Yeah, yeah, just…’ your mouth was extremely dry. One more second and no words would be leaving it ever again. It was just gonna have to come out now. Then, with a quick exhale,  you admitted. ‘I’ve never had an orgasm.’ From Eddie’s reaction, it didn’t seem to have been any news to him. Like it was the most normal conversation, which, given his job, it probably was. You tried to ignore the thought of him and the many women he must have helped. 
‘Well, I would be more than honoured to change that for you.’ He took a step forward, and the proximity forced you to look up at him to see his eyes. 
‘Is that a rehearsed line?’ Apparently, your one outburst of truth led to the pandora’s box in your brain, and now you couldn’t shut up, saying the first thing that came to your mind. And unfortunately, it was still filled with the images of him with other people; him making all of them feel ecstatic. 
Luckily, Eddie laughed at your presumption. His head tilted back, and when it came back down, and his eyes were once again locked in with yours, his lips pulled up into a smirk. One of his hands found its way up to your cheek before he leaned in. you were ready for him to kiss you, but instead, his breath lingered over your skin. So close that you should have been able to touch him, and maybe you did. Because there was something that made your mind a thick haze, impossible to navigate through. Everything spun around you except for Eddie.
‘So what if I did rehearse it?’ his words hit your jaw as he hovered over you, then whispering directly into your, he asked: ‘What if I’ve already planned 10 different ways in which I want to make you writhe underneath me? Would you mind that?’ Would you mind? 
Whatever for? 
In a shaky breath, you spoke the only thing you could think of at the moment. 
‘Kiss me.’ 
Eddie didn’t need to be told twice. 
He must have been grinning like an idiot, and he could only hope it didn’t put her off as he brought their lips together and kissed her. Deeply. Passionately. 
The hair around her face was slightly wet, as was her jaw, telling him she had just spent the last minute splashing water in her face. She tasted sweet, like the coke she had been drinking earlier. 
Her hand crept up to his collar, shyly grabbing at it and pulling it down, revealing the slightest inch of the tattoo on his clavicle. Not that she would see it, having closed her eyes the second their lips connected. 
Eddie let one of his hands find its way back to her waist. Holding on to each other, they stumbled back onto the bed. She let out a whimper as Eddie’s knees hit the edge of the bed, and he fell backwards, taking her right down with him. 
It was a slow tear-away, leaving both in a haze. Eddie watched her sit up straight, straddling him and keeping him locked. If she moved, she would feel how hard he was getting. 
‘I assume kissing was not on the agenda of the lesson?’ He brushed some of his hair out of his face. 
‘Well, if you have any tips–’ she tugged at the bottom of her shirt. A nervous habit, probably, but all Eddie could think about was how he wanted that material as far away from her as possible. 
‘You’re joking, right?’ She must have been. The kiss, though brief, had been… he felt alive after it. His chest was tight as he caught his breath. ‘Fuck, c’mere.’ He pulled her right back. It might have only been one kiss, but it had been more than enough for him. He was already hooked. 
His lips were slightly chapped, but not in any way to make you feel uncomfortable. Nothing that some chapstick before going out into the cold couldn’t solve. You could smell the bitter beer he had just drank, and despite the drink having been cooled, it brought a warmth out in you. This heat swam over your cheeks and the parts of you that he held close. His hands were now back to playing with your shirt. The material was creeping up over your stomach, up up up…
‘Can you take your shirt off first, please?’ she asked nervously once the second kiss parted. Her small voice sent sparks flying down Eddie’s body, directly to his dick.
‘Yeah, ‘course.’ All he could do was smile. She shuffled down his legs to give him space and remove the shirt. There was no way she didn’t feel how tight he was getting in his trousers, but she didn’t show any reaction to it, eyes focused on his chest. Eddie looked down at himself. He had almost forgotten about those. 
‘You have piercings?’ 
He kept on forgetting to update his pictures on the website. It was such a hassle. Taking the time to plan it all in, preferably with someone else, so he could have some action shots. There was the editing, and then he would have to send them into the office so someone could actually upload them… he just couldn’t be bothered. As much as he was meant to keep his clients aware of what they were paying for, it was selfish of him to love their surprised reactions. Just now, the way her eyes immediately locked in on them in surprise. How her hand lightly fought against reaching for him. 
‘You can touch them. It doesn’t hurt.’ He took her hand and placed it right over his chest. She immediately regained control over her body, and her finger lightly traced over the silver bar. Eddie’s body tightened for a second in bliss. ‘See? It feels fucking good, actually.’ He hadn’t meant to whisper the words out or for them to be so shaky. It was supposed to be a light joke to keep the tension away, yet it pulled the atmosphere down to something intense and sultry. Hopefully, it wouldn’t scare her away.
But she smiled and leaned in again for a featherlight kiss. Fuck, she could kiss. It was like a gift from the gods themselves. A little piece of heaven. If this was how she kissed every guy, Eddie couldn’t comprehend how they didn’t line up for more. And then her hand kept moving, slowly tracing the ink on his body. Her fingernails grazed over the drawings. Perhaps it was a placebo, but he had always considered the tattoos to be more sensitive than the rest of him. The soft touches made him shake in need of her. 
‘What do you want me to do?’ he asked, nearly out of breath, mind spiralling with everything he wanted to do to her. He couldn’t keep it in a straight line anymore. Meanwhile, he was supposed to be the professional here. Meanwhile, she expected him to teach her… he was absolutely fucked. 
And then her following words only made his situation worse. 
‘Just tell me what to do, Eddie.’ Somehow, he missed the exact moment when her lips travelled down to his jaw. It must have been some kind of joke– there was no way this incredible woman did not know what she was doing. 
‘Fuck, baby.’ He groaned. He actually groaned. Eddie never did that during his sessions. It just wasn’t something he thought he could do with his clients. It turns out he had never been this turned on by any of them.
It made sense. How often did he think up hour scenarios before meeting the ladies? How often did he imagine he was with someone else? He had thought that maybe, because of the rules of his job and the frequency of his sessions, that maybe sex just wasn’t really anything for him. Not that he didn’t enjoy his job or regretted ever going into the business… money was good, and he was good at what he did. Yet, it was still a job. And jobs could often tire a person out. Maybe he had become desensitised to it all. 
But this proved all of his theories wrong. He was entirely in the moment. Aware of everything that was happening between him and her. Nothing between them was new, or necessarily exciting, and yet it felt like nothing he had felt before. Nothing but kissing sent him down a road he could never return from. 
And now she wanted him to tell her what to do. Yes, in the teaching context, he understood. But was she even aware that this would not be that far from the ordinary things he did in his sessions if they had just removed that context? Just add in some leather and handcuffs. 
‘Take your clothes off, baby.’ He spoke softly, not wanting to roll back into his regular role. This wasn’t that, he reminded himself. He didn’t want it to be that. 
When she started to pull her shirt up, he quickly took over. ‘No, wait, go slower. Take your time.’ Fuck, please take your time, he internally cried out. He didn’t want this night to end. It all felt like a dream, and he didn’t want to get dressed and wake up. He didn’t want to leave because once he did, coming back was not an option for him. 
You followed his instruction, slowly pulling your shirt over your head. Focusing on him. Looking at him prevented you from getting too much into your head. After all, it was hard to think or worry about anything with someone like him, half-naked, under you. You traced his tattoos. They were all black and white, the ink scratchy and uneven on most as if done at home.
Not precisely stick and poke, but not from a studio either. A pull at your heartstrings made you think of how much money you had paid. How much he needed that money… See, hard to think of your own insecurities when looking at him.
Eddie moved up to lean on his elbow. You were sitting still for too long; he must have sensed something was off. With a gentle touch, he stroke your bare skin. You were both shirtless, though you still had your bra on; his hand was sneakily moving up to the strap over your back, ready to unclasp it.
‘What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, sweetheart.’ It must be some kind of trick he was pulling, something he learned over his experience on the job because of the way your whole body fluttered at the sound of the little nickname… it must be a trick. But there was nothing you could complain about either. 
Once again, your mouth worked faster than your brain, and before you could tell yourself to shut up, you answered with the first question that came to your mind. ‘Do you do anything else… besides this?’ a second later, before he even had the time to react, you butted in with your own response. ‘That is probably way out of bounds. Sorry–’ 
‘Only a little bit,’ he was taking it lightly with a chuckle. Clearly, with no intention of stopping what the two of you had been doing, he littered your jaw and neck with kisses between his answer. ‘I’m in a band. But garage gigs don’t exactly pay the bills.’ You felt him tremble with a laugh against your neck. Eddie had by then sat up and kept you in place on his lap with a tight hold. As he kept kissing you, you let your body speak for itself, closing your eyes and trusting your instincts. Somehow you knew what felt right and what didn’t. Your hips moved of their own accord, grinding against Eddie. You tried not to think about what you were doing, knowing you would just start to freak out and freeze. Instead, you thought of Eddie on stage with his band, imagining him in all the different positions, trying to figure out which instrument fit him best. 
As if he could read your mind, he said, ‘I play guitar.’ His hand had now officially made its mark on your bra, grabbing the backstrap, and wringing it until it unclasped.
‘That’s hot.’
‘Yeah?’ The bra snapped open. Eddie took it upon himself to slide the straps off your arms. You threw the item off to the side of the room, and Eddie didn’t waste a second to bring his attention to your breast.
Had no one ever touched her properly?
All that Eddie did was kiss her tits, and she was almost coming undone. He felt a pang of terrible guilt on behalf of his entire sex. How the fuck did no one make her feel good… not only that. How did men make her feel as if she was the problem? That she had to step her game up and learn. If he ever got his hands on one of those assholes– woah. Calm down. 
‘Yeah,’ you gasped out the small word. ‘So- so hot.’ It was hard to keep a sentence straight when he had his full attention on your nipples.
One preoccupying his lips, while the other was cupped by his large hand. He was rough in his touches, pulling and squeezing, but not in any way that felt too much. On the contrary, you needed more. More of him. 
He switched from one breast to the other in his movements. Then when he pulled away, he kissed you again. Then, he looked you in the eyes, a false seriousness covering his features. 
‘So, let that be lesson one: foreplay. Extremely important before any kind of sex.’ 
‘But… I didn’t do anything?’ You blinked. It was true, wasn’t it? He had been doing most of the work; meanwhile, you hadn’t done anything for him. But Eddie frowned.
‘Oh, baby, you did plenty.’ His hand reached down to his own trousers. ‘You feel this?’ When you hesitated, he took your hand to guide it over his crotch, where you could clearly feel the outline of his dick. ‘Yeah, that’s all you, sweetheart.’ He was so cocky, so confident. 
He kept on talking. ‘And let me ask you one more question.’ For this, he leaned in to almost whisper the words against your hot skin. ‘Are you wet?’ 
‘I don’t know.’ 
Eddie clicked his tongue in disapproval. ‘I think you do know, but let me check then, hmm?’ You weren’t sure how he did it, but he brought you underneath his body in one fell swing. You were now lying on the bed, and he slid down to sit on his knees at the end of the bed. ‘Professional opinion and all, right?’ 
‘Right.’ You hid your face in your hands to laugh. What the hell had you gotten yourself into?
Eddie reached for your hands, making you look down at him. 
‘I wanna see your pretty face.’ But, God, speaking of pretty faces, his smile might have been one of the most beautiful sights in the world. He could have been a model, probably… and yet… 
You didn’t want to look at him, however, when he started unzipping your trousers. The button opened up, and you heard the zipper move down, releasing the tension of the material around your waist. Eddie tapped your hip, telling you to move them up. Once you did so, with one big tug, he pulled the pants down to the middle of your thighs with one big tug. It took him three more to get them off entirely. The next second, the trousers were in the corner of the room, along with your shirts. 
‘Oh, baby,’ his syllables were long, dramatic, playful. ‘You are fucking soaking through these.’ You felt your back stiffen at the feeling of his fingers on you. Two, his pointer and middle fingers, slowly tracing down over the thin cotton. Then he’d roll them back up, letting his knuckles press the slit.
‘Fuck, can’t wait to taste you– can I taste you, baby?’ He asked, eyes pleading you for it. 
‘You don’t have to,’ you responded. The air in the room seemed to be turning colder and sent shivers over your arms. 
‘I know I don’t have to.’ Eddie scoffed, teasing. ‘Let that be lesson two then: if a guy doesn’t want his mouth near your pussy, then you shouldn’t come anywhere near his dick.’ He growled out the last words, and his hand had such a tight grip on your panties, that, with one quick move, he tore the material in two. 
‘Eddie!’ she shouted. 
‘Shit, sorry.’ He got too carried away in everything. ‘I’ll pay you back.’ That’s when he glanced down; it was like his memory was instantly wiped. ‘Oh, fuck yes. Fuck you got the cutest pussy I’ve ever seen.’ He left a kiss a few inches above it and slowly made his way down. His fingers returned to the slow up-and-down motion he had done before, and each time, he let himself go deeper. Her body tensed up, and breathing hitched in her throat until it came out in a soft moan. 
‘That’s right,’ Eddie said before one last kiss on the most crucial spot. And this kiss lasted. After a few seconds, he practically made out with her clit, as his fingers entered her.
That is when her hand reached for his hair. The touch was enough to make him moan against her. 
‘Oh fuck,’ she moaned loud, eyes tightly shut in pleasure. Keeping his fingers deep within her, Eddie mused:
‘That’s right, baby. Does it feel good?’
‘So good.’ She dug her nails through his hair, nudging him on to continue whatever he was doing. 
Even though you had not meant to pull at his hair, it was all much more of an impulsive action, Eddie groaned out against. He pulled you in closer, sending the vibrations from his body right through yours. 
You had expected, thinking up this plan of hiring someone to teach you sex, that it would be much more formal. That the guy would give you step-by-step instructions on how to do things, tell you everything directly, and you would follow. Maybe that is how it would be with anyone else, but with Eddie, he made you feel it. Without saying a word, you knew how to listen to him. Through his reactions, you knew what to do. His moans encouraged you to pull his hair, to close your thighs around him. Meanwhile, your response spurred him to go, let his fingers move harder, his tongue slick deeper through you. 
‘Fuck, Eddie, fuck.’ You felt that feeling inside you, the build-up. It wasn’t familiar, for you had only experienced it very few times, mostly on your own. This tension deep within you. It grew, quickly reaching its tipping point. 
Eddie’s free hand fastened itself onto your leg; he seemed to have lost himself in you. Then his eyes moved up, locking right with yourself. A part of you wanted to take a picture of what you saw in front of you and cherish the memory forever. His honey-brown eyes glazed in need of you. This spark of all-knowing deviltry. 
Your whole body tightened as you felt it coming, tighter and tighter, like a rubber band ready to snap.
But instead, Eddie let go of the band as he pulled away from you to accompany your last moan of his name.
A whimper left your mouth, and pleads were ready to follow it, begging him to not stop. Not now. Just a few more seconds. 
‘Lesson number three,’ he wiped his mouth– which was glistening in the room's warm light– with his thumb but never wiping the smug smile off his face. ‘Tease, tease and tease. The longer you keep them waiting, the sweeter their reward will be.’ 
At this point, you could not imagine it being so sweet, as all you felt was a horribly empty feeling, deflating your insides by the second. 
‘Everyone likes that?’ You asked.
‘Hmm, good question.’ Eddie got up to remove his belt. He made a spectacle out of it, sliding the whole strap from between the loops, then throwing it down to the ground. ‘It does probably depend on a person, what their limits are. How much they can last and take.’ Like a showman, he made you watch. Made you wait. ‘I’m sure some people would rather just get on to the final act.’ 
‘Not me?’ you asked as he pulled his jeans down along with his boxers.
Just like the picture. 
‘Hmm,’ with a pondering expression, he fell down onto the mattress beside you. ‘Not you.’ 
‘What makes you say that?’ It took all your willpower to keep looking into his eyes. He, however, wasn’t as courteous. His eyes roamed over your naked body as his hand found its way back between your legs. A quick snap. He slapped your clit lightly, but it was enough to immediately sent a spark through you, nearly bringing you back to the spot of tension. 
‘Just a hunch.’ He slapped you again. 
She was so fucking sensitive. Like a little porcelain doll.
For good measure, and the fact he couldn’t get enough of how her body moved when encountering intense pleasure, he gave that pussy a third and final snap. Maybe he would have kept going, he certainly had not felt like stopping any time soon, but it was when her hand reached for his. Fingers around his wrist. Her eyes closed lightly, mouth parted just a tiny bit, enough for her to whisper his name. 
‘Eddie.’
‘What’s up, sweetheart,’ he leaned in his lips almost on her cheek again. She didn’t respond. ‘Lesson four: always use words. I don’t know what you really want unless you tell me.’ He left sloppy kisses over her face as he dictated. ‘So? What. Do. You. Want?’ He punctuated each word with a touch
‘Fuck me.’ 
‘Of course.’ He had expected her to play around with the words, make him pull it out of him, but no. So, he got up and reached for the wallet in his jeans. He should have checked sooner. This had been too much of a risk, but luckily, the silver foil stuck out immediately. 
She had sat up again to watch him rip the packaging open. 
‘You’re making me feel really unprofessional right now,’ he chuckled to himself whilst pulling the condom out. ‘I have a whole box in my bag with the rest of my stuff.’ He had planned to get it out of his car after meeting her at the bar, but then everything had gone a bit to shit, hadn’t it? 
‘I have a box… in my bag,’ she said, for some reason almost embarrassed. 
‘Someone’s eager, huh?’ Perhaps he didn’t help, but really, he was talking about himself. Eddie could immediately imagine himself being with her for the rest of the night, the entire fucking week if he could, but something told him that after this— that would most likely be it. It was better not to stretch a good thing out. She paid for him to teach her the basics, not exhaust her to her limits, perhaps scare her off of sex forever.
‘No, I just–’ did she notice he was joking? Either way, she hid her face in her hands, laughing at herself. Eddie took the moment that she wasn’t eating him alive with her eyes to get a few pumps in. it wasn’t even needed; he was rock hard; it was just a routine at this point. He let his head roll back a little back as his hand moved up and down, then got on with putting the condom on. 
‘How should we uhm— how do you want—’ you looked for a good way to phrase it as Eddie got back into bed. 
‘Anything particular in mind you wanted to get a hang of?’ he asked. You shook your head no. Stupid. You should have done your research. Come more prepared. 
But could anything prepare you for Eddie? It didn’t seem likely. You could have come in with a four-volume guide, and he would have probably thrown it out the window and shown you a whole new world. 
‘Then we’ll just see where the night takes us, why don’t we?’ He positioned himself on top of you. Arms on each side of your shoulders, stomach hovering over yours. As you both breathed in, you could feel his muscles. He put his weight on one of his forearms as the other hand reached back down between you, moving his fingers in a circular, steady motion. 
Too occupied with how good his touch on you felt, there was no real thought going through your mind when you pulled his face closer to you, kissing him deeply. Your noses pushed against one another. Your fingers rooted down between his hair.  
Eddie spread your legs wider apart, creating the perfect position for himself. 
‘You ok?’ he asked, lips practically still on yours. 
‘Mhm.’ You hummed, but Eddie clicked his tongue, pulling away a few inches to look at you a bit more focused. 
‘Mm, remember rule four?’ 
You didn’t want to remember. You didn’t want to think. All you wanted, needed, was him inside you. But you answered: ‘use your words? Let them know what you want.’ 
‘Good girl,’ he kissed you softly. ‘It also goes for consent. Probably should have made that the first lesson, but what can you do? Make clear what and when you want something. If the guy doesn’t listen– I don’t know, kick him in the nuts.’ 
‘Got it.’ You nodded. 
‘So, let’s try it out.’ He didn’t move, just waited for you to speak. 
You took a deep breath. ‘I want you to fuck me, Eddie.’ 
‘There we go. Feels good, doesn’t it?’ His hand returned to rubbing your clit as he moved around above you, getting in the proper position. ‘Quick lesson five: it’s fucking hot when girls say shit like that. So don’t be afraid to get dirty.’ Slowly and carefully, he let himself sink into you. His length filled you up, spread your walls. It was a perfectly tight fit, making it impossible to hold anything in. 
‘Dirty and loud.’ Eddie stayed still, letting you get used to the feeling of him. ‘Don’t hold it in, baby, ok?’ 
‘O-ok.’ Your breath was shaky. Once used to him, you placed your hand on his chest. His hot breath burned your skin.
Eddie kept a slow pace, letting both of you ease into the rhythm of being together, but eventually, you felt your body loosen up. Finally, it wasn’t enough anymore. Was he holding himself in? Could he tell you needed more but was waiting for you to tell him? Teach you your lesson. 
‘More,’ the word was nearly just an exhale, but it was enough for Eddie. He kissed you passionately with a smile, and he plunged deeper inside you. From then on, his thrusts were harder, faster. He grabbed your leg and pulled it over himself. The new change brought in a whole new angle, letting you feel him through your entire body. 
The pleasure was intense, and beautiful. Your mind was scattered, so you didn’t even feel your teeth graze over your lips, locking in your voice. But Eddie noticed. 
The second he caught it, something in Eddie’s mind switched on. As much as he tried to contain that part of himself, keep it away from her, he couldn’t. It was fucking primal. 
He thrust harder than he did before. His hand found its way to her cheek, squeezing it– not too tight, he pulled himself back quickly, but strong enough to show her he meant it– and his words came out in a growl. 
‘What did I tell you, baby? Don’t hold it in.’ A few more deep thrusts left both their bodies shaking with each move. ‘I want to hear every pretty sound that comes out of your mouth.’ His thumb pressed against her bottom lip, and, without another word exchanged, she parted those beautiful lips and granted him access. 
She fucking moaned around it and sucked her own juices off it. Could she taste the sweetness? He hoped she could. He was jealous of every person that ever got to taste it, but he quickly let that thought sink away as he had more pressing questions. 
‘Now, where did you learn that?’ He smiled when he pulled his thumb away, his hips only slightly rearranging the pace as he spoke calmly. 
‘Sorry, was that wrong?’ She blinked. Genuine fucking naivete. Eddie could barely hold it in anymore. 
‘Only in the sense that it got me this close to blowing my load before you got even close.’ He quickly regained his speed.
From that point on, she didn’t hold back. Her moans were beautiful. The sound of his name comes directly from the centre of her pleasure was like hitting the jackpot. If only he could live off those cute noises, he’d be the wealthiest man on earth. The luckiest. The happiest. 
What the fuck was wrong with him? 
But shit were her tits a sight for sore eyes. Looking at them, he couldn’t go a second without touching them. For a moment, he got scared he was too rough, but then the claws came out– almost literally. Her nails dug into his back. It would leave marks, and Eddie couldn’t wait to see them when he looked in the mirror the following day. 
‘Eddieee,’ it came out so shaky, so desperate. He could tell she was getting close. It took much less than expected. He had a thousand things in his head that he still wanted to do with her, show her, but even he realised then it was wishful thinking. His own words from minutes ago reverberated in his mind. 
You’re making me feel really unprofessional right now.
He was ready to burst, and it only took a few minutes in missionary. Usually, he could go for ages.
Then again, he hadn’t been this turned on in a long time. 
‘You close, baby?’ He asked and almost hoped to hear yes; Eddie didn’t know how much longer he could last, and if he came before her– he could never live that down. 
But she was lost in him, too far down to appropriately respond. That wasn’t good. Eddie slowed down a bit. ‘Hey, hey, you alright?’ 
‘Yes,’ you took a deep breath, ‘please don’t stop. Not now.’ He was making you feel incredible. In a matter of a few minutes, you felt like you had reached the seventh heaven. Absolute bliss. 
But perhaps you didn’t feel how much you actually felt. As good as it was, this overwhelming sensation pulled you away from everything around you. When Eddie brought you back, with the softness of his voice and the touch of his hands, only then you realised how far down you had been.
‘Are you sure? We can take a break.’ Eddie’s eyes searched your face for any signs of trouble, but before he could spiral, you halted him. A few deep breaths were all it took for you to be present. 
‘I’m ok. Thank you.’ You kissed him. Whatever anyone would say if they heard about your plan, this was how you knew you had made the right choice. Or perhaps how you knew that the universe wasn’t always against you. Tonight, it brought you Eddie. Whether it was a freak accident or not, you would never regret the choices that led to it. 
Eddie continued what he was doing, giving you all his attention. To all of you. You didn’t feel like an inch of your body went down forgotten. Meanwhile, he was all you could think about. It was like the world around you dissolved. A fire could have burned down the entire room, and you don’t think you would have even noticed. Not with Eddie’s cock deep inside you. He didn’t falter. Each thrust was full of him, hitting the perfect spot. Mind-numbing, toe-curling and… 
Soon, you felt that feeling again. That tightness inside you. This time even tighter than previously. It was to be expected that Eddie knew what he was talking about. The longer the wait, the better the reward. And to think only a little time had passed since the two of you entered the hotel room. Not much time at all compared to how much you wished you could be with him. Was it insane? Probably, but you didn’t care.
You just wanted him, and you would take as much as he could give you. 
Eddie could feel how close she was. 
It had definitely scared him when he saw how far down she had been, already blaming himself for taking it too far. He had been ready to pull the plug and return her all the money. It didn’t matter if her payment had actually gone to his account; he would make sure that his fuck ups were compensated. 
But she was fine. Like a little firecracker that she was, she kissed him, wiping his whole mind clear of anything but her. Her and that sweet, sweet taste. 
It didn’t take much longer for breathing to break up in quick succession. Moans got louder, likely uncontrolled, and her grip on his tighter. Her nails dug into his shoulder just as he loved it. 
‘C’mon baby, come on.’ He encouraged her to lose all of her control. Lose herself to the pleasure. She needed to know how it was to be treated right. He needed her to know. And he didn’t know how much more he could keep it going. His last few thrusts still reached the deepest parts of her, and got everything out of her he wanted, but he felt himself lose his momentum. With each second, it was getting harder to concentrate. 
‘Oh my god-’ she whimpered as she released underneath him with a high-pitched scream at that. As much as he wanted to hear all of it, he kissed her to mute it. There was no need for the neighbours to get concerned. 
Though from all the other noises they made, from how the bed shook and banged against the wall, they would make the correct assumption. 
Not much later, as she was still coming undone, Eddie let himself reel in the pleasure. Then, stilled within her, his lips on her neck now, he came. When he pulled away, he wished he could have left a mark on her, but he knew that would be a step too far. 
‘Thank you’ were the first words to come out of her mouth when he discarded the full condom in the trash. He wasn’t sure what to do now. He didn’t like feeling naked post-sex, but he didn’t want her to get the wrong idea. Maybe she expected more. If so, he could give it to her, but he just wasn’t sure– 
‘It’s my pleasure,’ he sat on the edge of the bed, just in reach to place his hand on her leg. They were both covered in sweat, naturally, but the cold was taking over. ‘You should get under the covers.’ The last thing he wanted was for her to get sick.
‘Right.’ She pulled at the corner of the blanket– always a much more arduous task than necessary in hotel rooms when they’re tucked in deeper than the pits of hell. As soon as she pulled the white sheet over her body, Eddie regretted his choice of words. It was probably the last time he would have seen her naked, and he didn’t even take a moment to appreciate what he had in front of him. 
He found his underwear, which was almost kicked under the bed. When he resurfaced, her face was full of worry. The furrow of her brows was enough to tell him that. 
‘What’s wrong?’ he asked as he covered himself up. 
‘I’m sorry.’ 
‘I don’t understand.’ 
‘I didn’t do anything. I asked you to help me figure this out, and we just–’ 
‘No, hey, hey.’ Eddie practically jumped into bed next to her. Cupped her face in his hands and made sure she looked at him as he spoke. ‘First of all, if this is how you feel, I should be the one to be sorry since I clearly didn’t do my job. So I’m sorry. But you have no reason to think you didn’t do well. This was amazing.’ He could only hope she knew just how much he meant his words. That she could trust a complete stranger with words as much as she did with their bodies. 
‘No, Eddie, it’s not that you didn’t teach me anything, but I– there’s still so much I don’t know. Fuck, I still have no idea how to suck a guy off.’ 
Eddie cursed under his breath. Just from those words, he could feel himself twitching against his boxers. This girl was going to be the death of me. She kept on talking. 
‘Would it be ok if we do this again? Not as an accident this time, I will book you.’ 
He wanted to say yes so badly. But he had to keep his mind clear as he answered. ‘I don’t think that will be a good idea.’ fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He wanted to punch himself in the gut. 
‘I try to keep a strict one-time, no repeating clients policy. It makes the job much easier,’ Eddie explained. 
‘No, I understand.’ Having to do this with the number of people he does… you couldn’t imagine how that was. How other people would be with him, and what could have happened for him to make such a rule in the first place. 
‘I would say you should try Steve for real, but I don’t believe you need any “sex lessons”. 
‘Right,’ you scoffed away the comment, but Eddie was persistent. 
‘I mean it. I can tell that you have a whole talent in there for this shit. You just need to find the right guy to bring it out in you because whoever you’ve been in the past, clearly, they weren’t doing it right. Then you will learn everything else you want to learn by yourself. Basically like you did now.’ He gave you a kind smile, and you tried to replicate it. 
‘I did need you.’ You couldn’t look at him as you said it.
‘Ehhh– not so sure about that. For a while, I thought you just wanted me for my body.’ He fell over to his back, hand on his chest as if he had just been shot. ‘That shit can hurt, you know.’ He was so dramatic and made you laugh so easily. You had never expected anything like that to happen that night. 
A body to adore was one thing, but he might miss her smile even more. 
‘Are you feeling alright?’
‘Why do you keep asking me that?’ She blinked. Eddie pushed down the anger he felt at all those morons that had not treated her right before.
‘Let that be your final lesson then,’ he pushed down another instinct, this time to make a cheesy reference that she might not get. There was no need to make the mood weird or awkward now. Eddie cleared his throat. ‘Lesson… what number are we on, six?– Lesson six: aftercare. Just check up on yourself to see if you’re able to carry on afterwards. While always quite vital, the more intense the session, the more important the aftercare. It keeps you stable.’ 
She nodded in understanding. ‘So, how would that look?’
‘Well, let’s see…. Are you sore? Do you need anything?’ Once again, he was mad at himself for going into this without his usual stuff. While his bag was mostly filled with toys that might be a bit too much for her, he also had plenty of shit to make her feel better if needed. 
‘No, I don’t think so.’ 
‘Ok, do you need something to drink? Eat?’ Before she even replied, Eddie lunged for the can of soda she had discarded on the desk opposite the bed. The bubbles would have mostly flattened by now, but it was still a liquid to drink. 
‘Not really,’ she said as he handed her the can and took a small sip. ‘Ok, maybe a little bit.’ They both smiled as she emptied the can of its last chug. 
‘More?’ Eddie asked as he tried to read it off of her. 
‘No, I’m good.’ Just like before, she started tapping on the can. Now empty, it sounded even more hollow. 
‘And was everything alright? I was scared I might have gone too far at one point.’ 
The way you could see the genuine concern and worry in Eddie’s eyes made you want to wrap your arms around him, kiss him, and never let him go. To think that a few hours ago, neither of you was even aware of the other’s existence. That you weren’t supposed to be aware, that it was all a giant coincidence. And that after tonight… that would be all that it ever was. 
Here was this fantastic man taking care of you better than any other guy had. 
Sure, you paid him to do it, but something in you, call it a freaky instinct, told you that that was just who Eddie was. He wanted to take care of you. 
Maybe that’s why he went into the business. Who could really tell?
‘It was perfect,’ you told him because it was. 
‘Ok, good.’ He nodded, smiling shyly. It was the first time that night that you saw a crack in the confident front of the guy. 
‘Really, thank you.’ You reached for his hand, and his eyes followed it. He looked as your fingers lazily intertwined while you watched him.
‘You, uhm, you should probably go to the bathroom. Make sure you wash all of me out. Make it a standard practice, really.’
‘Will do,’ your voice wasn’t hoarse, yet you whispered. It suddenly became hushed in the room. It could have been quiet all this time, but it was then that you grew aware of it. 
You didn’t want to leave the bed, or Eddie, just yet, but you knew you should listen to his professional advice. Everything he had told you so far felt like the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe you also knew of them already, maybe did it too, but it only made sense when it came from Eddie.  ‘Don’t leave yet, ok? I want to say goodbye.’ The idea of him being gone when you came back felt gut-wrenching for many reasons, but all unknown. 
All Eddie did was nod. 
When you returned, he had just put his shirt back on. His belt was in his jeans loops but not yet fastened. Was it weird to watch him get dressed? It felt more like a thing real couples did, which you were far from. It felt stranger doing so whilst you were still completely naked, so you grabbed the fluffy white bathrobe on the bathroom shelf and pulled it on, tying it tightly around your waist. 
‘That’s me then.’ Eddie scratched the back of his neck, looking around, most likely checking if he didn’t forget something. A part of you hoped he did. He would realise it only hours later and rush back to find it. That this wasn’t the last time the two of you would meet. 
A girl could wish. 
‘Right.’ You put on a brave face as you made your way to the door. ‘Thank you again. For everything.’
All Eddie did in response was nod with a tight-lipped smile. 
The door was open now. He was already on the threshold. Compared to the soft glow of your room, the corridor's light felt jarring to your eyes. Just like that, it was over.
You could not believe this was the end. It ended as quickly as it started. A whole whirlwind of… everything, really. 
Before you could stop yourself, one last question burst through your lips. 
‘Is Eddie your real name?’ You immediately regretted your entire life, couldn’t believe you had done that. ‘I’m so sorry, just ignore me. I don’t know why I said that–’
But Eddie beamed. He took your hand in his. ‘As real as anything tonight was.’ and placed a soft kiss on your knuckles. He started walking before your wrist even hit your hip. 
You couldn’t watch him walk away, so you closed the door and your eyes before he went too far. A minute later, you cursed to yourself.
The whole aftercare thing- You never got to ask if he was ok.
Fuck.
the end.
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thank you so much for reading!! if you want more of where this came from, check out my masterlist. - also made a lil playlist based on this fic, told through taylor swift songs
and please support your (not so) local creators by liking AND reblogging.
I would love to know what you thought of the story, so please consider leaving a comment, or maybe an ask or even an anonymous review ;P
you are also more than welcome to join the taglist. right here.
Eddie (smut, 18+) taglist part 1:
@spiderrrling @theglitterymess @dorianelizabeth @theletterhart @niyahwhoreworld @fopdoodle1624 @pastel-abyss-x @ghoulsgraveyard @lovesickollie @xbreezymeadowsx @ssanjuniperoo @nxrdamp @meaganjm @mischiefmanagers @capybergara @brother-lauren @h0sh1verse @ghostlyreads @croweaterr @ladyapplejackdnd @bilesxbilinskixlahey @kbakery @lizzylynch1 @liltimmyst @hellfire-state-of-mind @escape-in-time-x @sweetpeapod @the-a-word-2214 @eddiemunsonbby @mydearzero @overthewhiteclouds @wroteclassicaly @groupies-do-it-better @celestialsxturn @hoe4eddiemunson @inanausomewhere @scoops-harrington @fluffyharrington @billyhargrovesprincess @annikin-im-panicin @kaitieskidmore1 @yesv01 @princess-aries
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iwrotetheilliad · 1 year
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Shut up & Drive
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♡ You and Reo try so hard to have moments to yourself, but the paparazzi say otherwise. Eventually, Reo gets sick of it.
Genre: P WITHOUT P ;)
CW: Slight exhibitionistm (you can see the rest of the world but they can’t see you) Y’all get it on in the back of Reo’s limo, fingering, dirty talk, dry humping a little. I’m pretty sure that’s everything, but please be wary cuz this is smut!
Characters: Fiancé! Reo Mikage
A/N: i was in a mood this morning, had THE MOST Reo brainrot one could possibly have and made this! I didn’t proofread so if autocorrect is a bitch and changes this then that’s not my fault :p. Also, tumblr was like “no, you can’t post this,” but imma try again. Bon appétit my loves!
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“Keep walking sir,” Reo’s head bodyguard commands as he and his team fend off the mob of people desperate to catch a glimpse of their favorite soccer player.
Reo has his arm slung over your shoulder and his other hand clutching the arm closest to him. Even though you’re not the one the public is after, your fiancé never fails to make you his number one priority. When you two finally make it through the swarm of fans and flashing lights, Reo guides you into the car before him.
Suddenly, he feels someone grab his shoulder. For a brief moment he assumes it��s his body guard, but when the stranger starts pulling, the purple-haired boy’s fight-or-flight instincts kick in. He shoves the hand off of him and turns around, offering a withering glare to whoever was the culprit.
“Fuck off,” he growls before climbing into the car after you.
“Are you ok?” you ask once he slams the door behind him.
He’s silent for a moment, before turning his body towards you. Reo shuffles closer towards you and nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. His arms snake around your waist, and pull you closer to him, so that your body is half in his lap.
“I hate them so much,” he groans into your neck. “All I wanted was one moment with you and the world decided to make me its bitch.”
“I know,” you mumble comfortingly, bringing your hand up to stroke his hair.
The car starts moving and the two of you stay in that position. Eventually, Reo knocks on the divider. “Play some music,” he sternly says, and just like that, the speakers come to life. After a few moments, Reo commands again, “Raise the volume.”
“But sir-”
“Do it,” he commands again.
The volume is promptly raised. The two of you continue sitting in silence until you feel Reo’s soft lips pressing against your neck. At first, he just feathers small pecks all over, but soon, he starts to suck gently at the most sensitive part.
“R-r-reo,” you stammer. He doesn’t stop what he’s doing, instead he just sucks harder. Subconsciously, your hips begin grinding against his thigh.
Reo leaves the first mark he made and starts a new one further down your neck. His hands start guiding your hips along his thigh. When he finishes crafting this new mark, he hums as his iron grip stops you ministrations in its tracks. You let out a whine as you crane your neck to get a good look at him.
“Mean,” you mumble as you go in for a kiss.
Reo’s hand leaves your hip to grab a handful of your hair. He yanks your head back after a few seconds of making out, a string of spit lingering between your lips.
“Do you want me?” he asks lowly. You eagerly nod, and he scoffs, “Even though our driver can hear you? Even though I could open these windows and let the world get a view of my pretty little girl?”
“I want you Reo,” you confirm, beginning to roll your hips again.
Reo lets out an animalistic groan as the curve of your ass starts to brush up against his cock. He rests his forehead at the back of your neck while muttering, “You’re such a little whore aren’t you? You get off to the idea of the rest of the world watching us huh? You want the rest of the world to see those pretty little tits as you ride my fingers?”
“Please.”
“Well the rest of the world doesn’t get to see how beautiful you are when you’re completely fucked out, only I do,” he growls protectively. “I’m gonna watch you fall apart over my fingers like the little slut you are.”
With that, Reo’s hands snake down beneath your skirt’s waistband. He doesn’t go beneath your panties though, instead just rubbing your clit through the thing fabric.
“Already so wet,” he coos, “such a good girl, ready to take my dick whenever and wherever.”
You nod eagerly, and stop getting off on your lover’s thigh. Instead, you hungrily grind into Reo’s hands, letting your panties get even more wet. You pull your shirt over your head, and lean forward a little to undo your bra clip. Finally, you relax back into your fiancé’s body, snaking an arm up around his neck.
Reo murmurs praises into your ear, before finally, he can’t take just feeling you through the fabric. When he breaches the band of your underwear and finally puts his fingers in you, you moan. It’s so loud and shameless, but you don’t care. Reo is pushing his fingers in you, and it’s all so, good! Your hands move to your chest.
“Reo!” you cry when he curls his fingers in just the right way. “Oh my god, please don’t stop, please- yea right there- ahh, ahh, ah!”
Your fluids spill all over his fingers as Reo soothes you. “That’s it my love, that’s it,” he whispers into your ear as you squirm in his lap. You feel your body physically relax, a result of the sudden pleasure leaving your system.
You take time to relax, and smooth out your breathing, as Reo uses his free hand to grab your discarded shirt. Reo adjusts you so that now, your legs are shut and both are hooked over his thighs. You lean against him after pulling your shirt over yourself. The music is still blaring, but Reo pulls out his headphone and hands you one while putting the other in his own ear. For the rest of the ride, you fall asleep curled into your soon-to-be-husband.
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Hopefully this works now!
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jalluzas-ferney · 5 days
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Cole wasnt “changed” to be gay. He never was STRAIGHT in the first place.
and hell- whi says he’s strictly gay now? Cole could like girls as well for all we know 🤷‍♀️ uk like, be a Bi king or smth.
The thing is, just like people are used to seeing characters from books as white as a default until stated otherwise, just because they’re so used to it, this happens with straightness as well.
People are will BEG and SWEAR that a character is straight just because they were never outright stated to be otherwise. And emphasis on “outright stated” because even when there is coding, hinting or just blatant portrayal of it, people will still deny that that certain character is queer because it’s not like they canonically turned to the camera and told the audience that “I AM NOT STRAIGHT.”
But to them, even if the character rarely showed any interest in the opposite gender or ever really talked ab their attraction, the character is just automatically straight. It’s just inherent. Of course they’re straight.
And you know what? Even if the character does, who said Bi people don’t exist? I have a lot of Bi friends and a family member that either are bi or are dating a bi person, and their attraction towards the opposite gender has never invalidated their attraction towards the same if gender non-conforming.
And even then, a lot of gay men or lesbians have struggled with comp-het in the past, reuniting them in having tried to date or even marry people from the opposite gender only to then realize they never truly were straight, and were just compulsively trying to conform or believe that they are straight because again, straightness has always been seen as the status quo. As the normal thing to be. The default.
And this isn’t me saying that “the writers were writing Cole as a dude with comp-het this whole time” or smth because I don’t know that. And while I could theorize that I don’t think the writers really were thinking about implementing compulsive heterosexuality into this silly Lego show.
But just like I can’t assure that Cole canonically has suffered from comp-het or that he is gay and not Bi or hell he could be asexual or smth while being gay WHO KNOWS-but just like we can’t exactly assure that he is exactly one of those labels, people cannot come here and act like Cole was ever REALLY canonically straight. Hell. You could even say None of the characters of the show are STRAIGHT because who said they were? You can def interpret them as straight! But why do people insist on acting as if portraying Cole as having a male character a romantic interest as them CHANGING him as if he really ever WAS straight?
No one acts that when a character is straight that it was a huge betrayal or smth because the character was “OBVIOUSLY” gay by default. No. People just see it as normal and move on because that has always been the status quo.
Because this is a heteronormative society as much as people try to act as if making a character gay is “appealing to the world and the general public” as if straight people are suddenly oppressed. Hetero friends of mine or my family will always automatically assume I’m straight because that’s the norm to them. People will always assume someone it het or cis unless outright stated otherwise.
And if you can’t tell what’s wrong with that…
And you know what? Get all pissed off about it. Complain. Make petition for “saving your boy Cole” (save him from what exactly? It’s not like Christianity exists in Ninjago so yall can scratch hell out of the list at least) the season was made. The character of Geo was made. The scenes where Geo fantasized about Cole being awesome and handsome were made. Scenes where Cole and geo talk about needing each other were made. Scenes where geo and Cole hold hands and look at each other all lovey dovey were made. None of that bigoted complaining is going to change that. Theyre not going back and deleting those scenes and they’re not suddenly gonna write Geo and Cole in completely different way from what they were written before. Womp. WOMP.
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catboymoments · 3 months
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hey gamers so uhh when it comes to being online and how my mental health is doing I’m really struggling with a handful of things and I’m gonna put them below the cut because I need to put it somewhere and it’s a goddamn ramble
the other day I had a paranoia episode because I was convinced that I was being watched on Twitter and everyone secretly hates me in some way or another for reasons I can’t explain. It was scary because I’ve never experienced it before. With every person who I see has me blocked whether or not I was close with them at one point, I can’t just let it roll off of me.
In November I lost a lot of mutuals and followers over me mistakenly thinking someone was fine and wrongly assuming the best in people, which after I realized I was wrong I deleted and apologized and everything but. because of that someone used it as an excuse to comb through my curiouscat on my nsfw twitter and take ooc anonymous ask as “proof” that I was secretly a proshipper and spread rumors about me being a freak. So. This caused both a lot of stress because hey what the fuck. and just the dissonance with losing so many interactions and consistent communication all at once with people I considered friends and not knowing wether or not they want me around has slowly been driving me crazy I think. In my brain I know that I need to respect boundaries and leave them alone and I shouldn’t even care because they weren’t really my friends in the first place, right?. But I hate hate hate this feeling of. Rejection? Loneliness. I hate that I’ve had to deal with being in the public eye all the time being a “popular” artist. Because while I am human and I can know that I’ve done wrong in the past and fix my behavior and I have done so with every mistake I’ve made and reflected on, the internet doesn’t forget it. I’m not allowed to forget it. If I screw up in any way, it’s broadcasted. I’m just a faceless creator that “they always knew was bad.” I really hate that this sounds like I’m throwing a fit over it because I’m not. I’m grown and I’m mature. I want to do good by others. I will always apologize when I realize I’ve hurt someone, because it hurts so so much when I do. I know this is dramatic and I play things off like a cool guy most of the time but I’m so hyper empathetic and my emotions are so much. It’s getting hard to be calm when my stomach hurts and my chest is on fire all the time. I feel as if every day I’m waiting for the callout post to drop, I feel like people are talking about me behind my back all the time. I know it’s delusional. I don’t know what the depths of this are with how I’ve grown and how my social skills are stunted due to neurodivergency. I want to be mature and level headed, but when I’m as naive and sensitive as I was when I was a ten year old girl, it feels like I’ve never grown. I want to grow up. I’m tired of feeling like everyone is moving on and I’m still a child. I need a blunt.
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keikikait · 5 months
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a slice of almond tofu [aged up!megumi x f!reader]
pairing: au!biker!megumi x barista!mechanicsdaughter!reader (both are early to mid 20s)
word count: 3k
summary: you're the head barista at your local cafe. you see people come and go regularly, customers and employees. recently, a spiky, dark-haired biker has been coming in every day, and you suspect he’s always there to see you.
warnings: slightly ooc megumi haha, my limited knowledge of motorcycles, smut [18+ ONLY!], dom!megumi, sub!reader, public sex? (it’s in an empty office), nickname use [baby, sweetheart, pretty girl], name calling [slut, fucktoy, whore], cunnilingus, porn with slight plot, mention of a blowjob, use of the words ‘cock’ and ‘cunt’, clit slapping (?), choking (slight), hair pulling (kind of?), mention of a breeding kink (sue me idc)
a note: this is my first fanfic on tumblr, please be understanding lol. i tried to write this as body type, skin tone, hair color, and hair texture neutral as possible. please let me know if there's something i should add or take away! also, sorry if there are any issues with tense, i flip-flopped between past & present for a while.
please reblog and comment, it means a lot! let me know what you think!
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧
It was late at the cafe, the setting sun outside causing a wave of soft golden light that further added to the warm, comfy aesthetic.
Your back was turned to the front, wiping down one of the espresso machines to clean it. Your head spun around when you heard the low growl of a bike outside. 
He was here.
He came inside, pulling his helmet off as he shut the door. He smooths his dark hair with his hand and took a look at the menu on the wall briefly before approaching you behind the counter.
He clears his throat before speaking in a calm, quiet voice.
“A slice of almond tofu and a hot caramel latte, please.”
You smile, plugging it into the register before grabbing a ticket to write his order on. “For here?”
“Yes.”
“And soy milk, right?”
He blushes slightly. You remember him. “Yes, soy milk.”
You chuckle, capping the pen and setting the ticket on the espresso machine. He moved to sit down at his usual spot, a large dark brown leather couch in the corner of the cafe by the only outlet. It was directly across from the pick up counter, and you used this to your advantage, slowly stealing glances at him while he typed away on his laptop or read whatever book he had that day.
You got to work on his order, picking a large slice of the almond tofu before putting more of the frangipane and almond slices on top. You know he always wanted more almond on top, and even though it was an extra 50 cents, you never charged him. You made his latte, paying extra attention to the latte art. A heart would be too forward, you thought, so you did a fern.
You plate his order before sliding it onto the pickup counter. “It’s Megumi, right?”
He looks up from his laptop, his lips slightly parted. “Yeah, do I really come in here that much?” He stands up and collects his order before sitting back down.
“Yeah, but I don’t mind.”
He smiles before taking a bite of the almond tofu. “I like this cafe. It’s so comfortable and calming…plus the coffee and food are really good.”
He glances out the window briefly before turning back to you. He clarifies your name, and to your own surprise, he said it correctly.
You smile. “That's me,” You point to your nametag which had “HEAD BARISTA” carved into it under your name.
He glances at it and smiles at you. “How long have you been working here?”
You grab a rag from the sanitizer bucket and begin wiping down the counter. “About three years.”
He whistles, “That’s a long time.” He takes a sip of the latte. “I assume I’m one of your regulars.”
You smile. “Yeah, it’s hard to forget that bike.” You put the rag back into the sanitizer bucket.
He smirks, scratching his jaw. “Ah, so I’m memorable?”
You smile again. “Very. Also, you’re one of the only customers that gets the almond tofu. The matcha is the most popular.” You lean across the counter, propped up on your elbows.
“It’s one of my favorite things here. I love how simple yet sweet it is.” He looks out the window again before looking back at you. “Can I ask you for some advice?”
You’re taken aback, but you say yes anyway.
Megumi sighs, facing you completely. “So, I just moved here, and I’ve been having some issues with my bike, with the engine and the exhaust…my friend and I have been trying to repair it but nothing is working. Do you know of any auto shops around?” He reaches up and scratches the back of his head, and you had to force yourself to ignore how his bicep moved under his shirt.
You smile. You had this in the bag. “Actually, funnily enough, my dad is a mechanic,” You reach over to the napkin holder and pull a pen out of your apron pocket, scribbling down the address. “You can come by tomorrow, if you want.” You slide it across the counter.
His eyes light up. “R-Really? That's so sweet of you, umm…” He pauses. “How much would it cost? I haven’t gotten paid yet.”
You wave away his worries. “It’ll be on the house. My dad does free repairs for my friends.”
Megumi’s eyebrows raise. “Are you sure?” 
You nod, smiling again. “Come by around noon.”
He smiles down at the napkin before folding it up and putting it in his pocket. “Thank you so much…you seriously don’t understand how much it means to me.”
You step back from the counter. “Don’t worry about it.”
Megumi shoves the remaining tofu in his mouth before gulping down the rest of the drink, sliding the dishes to you. “Thank you so much. I’ll see you at noon tomorrow.”
You pick up the dishes, setting them aside to wash. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Megumi.”
You watch as he leaves, putting his helmet back on and climbing onto his bike. He drives off, into the sunset, and you can’t wait for tomorrow.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧
It was a hot day in Tokyo.
You get up early, taking your time to thoroughly get ready. He had only ever seen you in your barista uniform, no makeup with your hair pulled back, and an ugly, bulky brown apron on. You want to impress him, you need to impress him.
You look in the mirror one last time, fixing your hair and tugging on your thin sundress. It’s one of your favorites, pretty short, just hitting the middle of your thigh, a soft lavender color, and fairly loose fitting. A slight breeze would cause it to float up, but if Megumi saw that you wouldn’t mind too much.
You head over to your dad’s workshop, pulling open the heavy gate and stepping inside. You had lied and said Megumi was a school friend to secure the free discount for him. You pace around, antsy, occasionally glancing at your phone. It was already 12:15, and worry that he wasn’t coming was eating you alive.
Megumi pulls up to the workshop on the edge of town, parking his bike in front of the garage door. He walks up and knocks, hoping you would answer and not your father.
You pull the door up, smiling. “Hey, Megumi!”
Megumi smiles, trying to not let his eyes wander over your body. “Hey, sorry I’m late…it nearly gave out on me on the ride over here.” He starts walking his motorcycle inside the garage.
“It’s okay,” You smile. “My dads in his office, I’ll go get him.”
You rush to your dad’s office, knocking on the door and peeking your head in. Megumi tries not to watch your ass move in your dress as you walked, but he can’t help himself. 
Your father exits his office, greeting Megumi with a smile. You stand behind your father and watch; watch the way Megumi’s eyes lit up when he was discussing his bike, how big his smile was when your father confirms, yes, the repairs would be free, and how his arms moved as he gestured.
You want him. Badly.
Your father squats down by the bike, examining the exhaust pipe. He unscrews the covers on the side to look at the engine, and whistles. 
He stands back up, looking at Megumi. “This might take a while. I gotta go across town to get some replacement parts.” Megumi’s eyes widen, and he fumbles for his wallet in his bag. He pulls it out and starts inquiring about the payment when your father shakes his head. “On the house, you’re a friend of my daughter. Don’t worry about it.”
Megumi gulps. “Are you sure, sir?” Your father nods before heading over to you and kissing you on the forehead. 
“I’ll leave right now. I’ll be back in maybe an hour or so.”
You both say your goodbyes and the garage door shut with a bang as your father leaves.
Now it’s just the two of you, alone.
You finally break the silence. “Do you want to sit in his office? It’s air conditioned.”
He smiles. “Yes, please. The heat is killing me.”
You chuckle before leading him into your father’s office, sitting down in his big office chair. Your thighs smush together when you sit down, and it make Megumi’s jaw tick. You grab the small hand fan your father kept on his desk and begin fanning yourself.
Megumi sits in the chair across the desk. “So, do you help out here, too? Or do you just work at the cafe?”
A droplet of sweat travels down your collarbone. “I help out here sometimes. Mostly I’m an errand girl.”
You keep fanning yourself, pulling the dress down your thighs. You’re already hot and sweaty, and being around Megumi definitely doesn’t help.
He crosses his legs, trying to hide the erection that was slowly forming. You look so adorable in your dress, and Megumi can’t help but imagine kissing your shoulders and chest as he slides the straps down-
No. He has to focus and hold out. At least for a little bit longer.
He leans his elbows on his knees, wiping his lip with his thumb. “That's nice of you, to help your father.”
You swallow hard, sitting up straight and squeezing your thighs together. He’s so effortlessly beautiful. “Yeah, I guess so. He fixes my car for free.”
You continue to fan yourself. It gets awkwardly quiet, the only sound being from the clock ticking on the wall above the door.
He looks at you, rubbing his thumb on his knee in a circular motion. “Do you think he’ll actually take an hour?”
You nod. “He gets distracted at the store, talking to his mechanic buddies. Honestly, he’ll probably take longer than that.”
Megumi grins. “Perfect. I want you all to myself for a while.”
You bite back a whine and squeeze your thighs together again, finally responding with “Mhm.”
He smirks. “You okay? A bit hot?”
You nod, sheepish. “Yeah…a bit.”
“Mhmm, I can tell. You keep squeezing your thighs together. It’s adorable.” Megumi says. 
You nearly faint. “It is?”
“It’s the cutest thing.” He stands up from the chair and walks around the desk, kneeling in front of you.
You let out a soft gasp, shutting the fan and setting it down on the desk.
He smirks, and reaches up to touch your thighs. “Is this okay?” You nod, sliding down further in the chair. He groans, spreading his hands over your thighs. “God, these are driving me crazy.”
“Yeah?”
He leans down and places a soft kiss on your thigh. “Yeah. Been wanting to sink my teeth into them. Been wanting you ever since yesterday.”
You gulp. “Since yesterday? Even when I’m in my uniform?”
He nods, squeezing your thighs with his hands. They’re rough and calloused and you nearly cum on the spot. “You looked so fucking innocent, it drove me crazy. I almost crashed on the way home because I was so goddamn hard and I couldn’t stop thinking about fucking that little mouth of yours.” 
Your mouth dropped open, almost instinctively. “Um, I mean-I wouldn’t mind that.”
He smirks again. “I know you wouldn’t, baby.”
Baby. You let out a shaky breath.
He pushes the hem of your dress around your hips, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head when he sees your panties. Black, relatively plain, but there’s a little purple bow on the front and it makes his head spin. “Can I take these off?”
Your face flushes. “I thought you wanted me to…you know-”
“Gag on my cock?” Megumi finishes your sentence for you. “I do. But, that can wait. I need to get my mouth on you or else I’m going to die.”
You nod. You aren’t complaining, not at all. “You can take ‘em off, then.”
Megumi slides your panties down, pocketing them for later, and spreads your legs wide. He moans when he sees your little cunt for the first time. He wraps his hands around your hips and pulls you to the edge of the chair. 
You feel anxious under his gaze. Does he not like it? Is it pretty? Before you can even think about asking, he leans forward and slots his mouth over you.
You gasp, immediately going to thread your fingers through his hair. It’s soft, despite the gel. Maybe you should ask him what kind he uses after.
Megumi moans when he tastes you, moving his tongue flat in small circles over your clit. He can’t get enough, the taste is driving him crazy. And you’re so sensitive too, squirming and moaning his name.
He moves his mouth away and slides two fingers inside you. You whine at the loss of contact and try to push his head down again. He chuckles. “Patience, pretty girl, patience.”
You shake your head. You can barely focus on anything other than his long fingers pumping in and out of you. They feel so much better than your own. “Can’t, Megs, I can’t. I need you.”
“I know you do,” He coos, thrusting even faster. His thumb takes the place of his tongue, rubbing your clit in small circles. “Your cute little clit is so swollen, just for me. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
You nod eagerly. “Yes! All for you, Megs!” Your hips buck a little when his thumb speeds up.
He fucking laughs at that. “Sensitive little slut, aren’t ya?”
You nod again, nearly cumming at his condescending laugh and the pet name. “Your…your slut, Megumi.”
He smirks. “All mine. You were practically made for me, baby. I can just tell this little cunt is gonna squeeze my cock so well.” His fingers speed up and he moves his thumb to replace it with his tongue. 
His fingers rub against that spongey spot inside you and you cum immediately, clenching around his fingers as you grind against his tongue.
Megumi pulls away, a triumphant smile on his face. “Fuck. Good girl.” He gives your clit a gentle slap before getting up from his knees. He pulls off his shirt and starts to unbuckle his belt. “Bend over the desk. Right now.”
You happily oblige, moving your father’s papers aside and bending over the desk, hiking your dress up around your hips.
He grabs your hips tight, pushing your thighs open with his knees. “Fuck, sweetheart, you look so good like this.”
You shake a little. “I do?”
Megumi groans, rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your folds. “So fucking good. Makes me wanna take you home and make you my personal little fucktoy.”
You let out a shaky moan. Holy shit. “I-I-I mean I wouldn’t mind.”
He groans again. “Goddamn, you’re perfect. Maybe I should make you mine. Take you home, treat you right, fuck your brains out every night…”
His voice trails off, and you go to respond with a pathetic ‘Please, Megumi!’ when you feel his cock push against your cunt and slowly start sliding in.
Your eyes roll into the back of your head and you moan.
He grabs your hair roughly, right at the root. “Fuck.” 
Megumi’s cock slides all the way in and you almost cum. You feel like your choking, like his cock is in your guts.
“So big…” You manage to say. 
He reaches his other hand around and wraps it around your throat, and this time you do cum.
Megumi groans loudly. “God, fuck, did you just cum?” You nod pathetically and he chuckles. “Fucking whore. I love it.”
His hips start moving, the pat pat pat filling your ears. You can hardly think, quickly being pushed past your second orgasm as the third one looms.
You swallow some drool before it escapes your lips. “Megumi…”
“Shhh, pretty girl,” Megumi coos. “Just relax. Let me take care of you.” He squeezes your neck a little.
Your mouth drops open as his hips speed up. His soft moans are right by your ear, and even though you’re getting fucked stupid, you can’t help but imagine what he sounds like when you’re between his thighs gagging on his stupidly big cock.
You let out an embarrassingly loud moan when he squeezes your neck again.
He moves his hand from your neck to your mouth, covering it. “Shhh, baby. We don’t want your neighbors to hear you, do we?” 
You nod, agreeing with him. You can’t let anything ruin this moment.
Megumi keeps his hand clamped over your mouth as his hips speed up. “Fuck, sweetheart, I wanted to hold out but I don’t think I can last. Your little cunt is so wet and perfect, fucking hell.”
He tugs your head back further and your eyes meet.
Tears well in your eyes and you mumble against his hand. “Please cum inside me, Megumi.”
His eyes darken. “Yeah? You want me to fill you up? Get you nice and pregnant?”
You’ve never even thought about having kids, but honestly you would do anything for him at this point. You nod pathetically. 
His smirk fades as he moans. “Fuck, sweetheart, you’re killing me.”
Megumi keeps a tight grip on your hair as his thrusts speed up. His orgasm sneaks up on him. “Fuck, fuck, shit-baby, fuck, ‘m cumming!” He cums loudly, letting go of your hair and gripping your hips with both hands to keep you from moving away.
You lay there on your father’s desk, drooling slightly.
He flips you onto your back and sits you upright. “You okay? Did I go too hard?”
You smile softly. “It was perfect.”
Megumi grins before looking down at your cunt as his cum drips out. “Fuck. Do you have a tissue or something?”
You blindly reach behind you and grab the box of tissues your father keeps on his desk. Megumi takes one and cleans you up gently. 
He kisses your clit before slapping it again. “You’re such a good girl.”
Your legs are still shaking. “Your good girl.”
His eyebrows raise. “Yeah? You wanna be mine?”
You nod. “Wanna be all yours, Megs.”
Megumi pulls you close, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I think we can arrange that.”
The floor shakes as the garage door opens, signaling your father’s return. 
His eyes flick to the clock. “Hey, you lied! He only took 45 minutes!”
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
ahhh sorry the ending is so shit lmao, i had no idea how to end it. anywayz, let me know what you think!
pt 2? maybe.
please do not translate or copy my work!
135 notes · View notes
romancingdaffodils · 4 months
Text
Love Kills
Clampdown
rockstar!remus lupin x reader
PART TGREE OF LOVE KILLS
James wants to kill time. What better way than a trip to ths pub accompanied by a Scottish football game. Remus isn’t seeing you after the incident. You end up sandwiched between him and Sirius. Chaos of the best kind ensues
bet you didn’t expect this come back did you
lots of love from lilac
warnings: alcohol consumption, kissing, general lovey dovey ness, slight pining.
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“Alright, party people, let’s get going! We have pub munch and a Rangers game waiting for us.” Pete shouted down the bus. You assumed James had told him to phrase it like that.
“Food poisoning and a bar fight impending.” you mumbled under your breath and Marlene heard. She laughed, whole heartedly. You smiled. The blonde rockstar esc girl was the lead singer for The Valkyries and she was unbelievably punk for lack of a better word. It was shocking to you her and Sirius weren’t dating (it became less shocking when you accidentally bumped into her and Dorcas snogging behind the tour bus). She had her hair cut in what could only be described as a spiked mod cut. In theory, it sounds awful, but some how the blonde woman managed to pull it off. She was pretty to the point your eyes threatened to turn green with envy.
“No need to be so down, scruff. ‘s not like we’re eating something Black has cooked.” she purred, smirking over at you. Her arm was lazily slouched over the shoulder of Dorcas, who was fast asleep on Marlene’s chest.
Sprinting out from backstage, you began to pack up the drums. You were desperate for a distraction from what had just happened. James walking in would appear during midnight daydreams filled with embarrassing moments. The anticipation of sweet relief that never came from the sandy haired man was far worse than any you’d felt before. Silently, you prayed you’d get another moment alone with Remus.
Completely oblivious, you waltzed outside holding the neatly packed away drum kit. Just as you were about to pack it away into storage, you saw something in the corner of your eye. A little flicker of hope made you check it wasn’t the one you were so desperate to see. Dropped, your jaw almost hit the floor in surprise. Dorcas, the Valkyrie’s lead guitarist and Marlene were stood unashamedly showing a rather intimate public display of affection. As cute as the couple were, the scene drove you even further into desperation of wanting to know what could’ve been.
“You’re funny.” you commented, giggling to yourself quietly. She gave you a proud smile.
“I know. How come we haven’t met before, you didn’t go to school with us?” she asked, curious eyes ever catlike.
“Didn’t go to school with you. Met Sirius at a concert and, you know now I’m here.”
“Exciting. Yanno James mentioned he walked into you a—“
Mary slapped her arm. You sighed, burying your head into your hands in defeat. “Did he tell everyone?” you asked, meekly. You could literally feel the colour draining from your face and everything seemed to slow down in a disgusting mix of anxiety and embarrassment.
“Just— Um. Not Sirius though, he doesn’t know.” Mary replied, smiling sympathetically. Saying nothing, you recalled your pinky promise with Remus and went on a mission to go find him. Padding off down the bus, you found him led in his bunk, book in hand.
“Alright?” he asked, not looking up from his book.
“Remember how you promised not to let me kill anyone.”
“Yeah?” his eyes flicked up to you and your stomach twisted. His voice turned to sticky honey in your ears and you were even more convinced he should be the frontman in an indie band. Or maybe he should be an actor. Or a model. He just deserved to be plastered on big screens with his voice trickling out of speakers everywhere you went.
“Need you to hold me back the next time I see James.” he snorted.
“He told everyone, then? Sorry. Should’ve known really.” Remus added, sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He reached out and grabbed his shoes, tugging them onto his feet. It served as a reminder you still had an entire night of everyone and their mother knowing your personal life. The colour was yet to return to your face and slowly you realised the lanky man wasn’t really looking at you. More he was looking through you. Admittedly, it stung, but you had to pretend it didn’t. Everything seemed tense.
“Yeah. Um, so the pub. What are we going for again?” you asked, desperate to revel in his attention.
“James wanted to kill time.” he replied, looking up at you. Wincing, he stood up with a groan. ‘His knees must be bothering him,’ you thought, peering up at him.
“Alright?” you asked, peering up at him.
“Just my knees, I’ll be fine. You ready then?” he said, scratching the back of his neck. You wondered if he’d let you lazily run your fingernails up and down the skin.
“Sure. Why not.” you confirmed. He gave you a small smile, but still wasn’t really looking at you.
You wanted to kiss every inch of his skin to make him look at you.
When it came to a rare enigma of a person (like Remus Lupin), you found yourself completely pliant at every thought of them. You didn’t need to know them for very long or understand them all that well. You just needed them. Which, undoubtedly, was unhealthy in the grand scheme of things. However, who were you to disregard the thought of such a pretty man being in close contact with you?
You were almost certain you had blown everything because of Remus’s estrangement for the past few hours. Perhaps that small smidgen of intimacy would be all you could get. You’d be awfully upset if that was true. Whispering silent prayers that he’d allow you to bask in his gaze once more, you made your way off the bus with the rest of the - as Pete had called them - party people.
The walk to the pub was short, you’d ended up in a rather deep conversation with Mary about her drums. You decided she was your favourite drummer to exist ever, solely because of how lovely she was. Far nicer than Sirius was to you. You felt a pair of eyes lingering over you and automatically whipped your head round to find who it was. Locking eyes with Remus, you gave a small smile before immediately looking away. His eyes shot away without the smile. Maybe he wasn’t staring at you, you tried to rationalise the tension in your brain. The walk to the pub felt a longer than it should’ve with Remus’s eyes on you. Given it was any other situation, you would’ve been basking in Remus’s gaze. However, due to the tension brewing you found yourself wanting to hide away from it.
Squeezing into the booth, you ended up trapped in between Remus and Sirius. Your thighs were pressed tightly against the others. Remus had a pint, Sirius had some concoction of stolen drinks and vodka and you had a less impressive half drunk cider. You still felt Remus’s eyes on the side of your face. The feeling of your skin being pushed against his jeans was not helping.
“I think, I think that football is dumb! Have you ever watched Rugby? ‘s way better!” Sirius declared. You scrunched up your face and you were almost certain you heard Remus chuckle. In fact, you were completely certain because the sound sent a shiver down your spine.
“Don’t ever say that, ever, again. Okay?” you said, pointing at Sirius. You felt like a teacher scolding a student, but it felt necessary.
“I’m right though.” he whined.
“So, you like watching sweaty men grapple with each other?” you said, obviously sarcastically.
“Yeah, pretty much.”
Remus laughed at this exchange, wholeheartedly. He had started laughing at your sarcasm and your stomach twisted at the thought of making him chuckle. Sirius rolled his eyes and turned away, starting a conversation with Marlene and Dorcas.
“Hi.” you whispered, to Remus as you peered up at him. He tilted his head.
“Hi. You alright?” he whispered in response. His hand twitched slightly as he picked up his glass. You wouldn’t have noticed if it were anyone else, but it was Remus.
“Mhmm!” you peered over at the rest of the table and frowned slightly. “How do they do it?”
“Do what, love?” he asked, the pet name slipping out. He mentally scolded himself, but stopped when he saw the blush spread across your face. The slight curl upwards in the corners of your mouth told him he’d misread the situation. See, Remus Lupin was insecure, especially in relationships. He was certain the whole ordeal with James would’ve put you off for life and that you hated him. But, he couldn’t keep his eyes away from you. He would’ve much rather suffered the whole tour staring longingly at someone than try and chase after you after being walked in on due to his consistent self doubt. A moment of tipsy clarity made him realise he was completely and utterly stupid.
“Talk, so easily. And, all the time. They just, always know what to say. I’m jealous really.” you explained, thankful you didn’t stutter of your words.
“Honestly? We were popular at school, it just comes with the territory really. Me less so, I’m still working it out.” he replied, looking down at you. You nodded your head in understanding. You wanted to shrink him down to the size of a mouse and keep him in your pocket at all times.
Somehow, being sat next to Remus had managed to drown out the sound of the football for an extended period of time. However, it wasn’t long before Rangers were getting chances and it was starting to get a little too overwhelming. He seemed to notice. “Wanna go for a smoke?” he asked, offering out his hand as he stood. You’d never moved so fast before. Nodding your head, you took his hand and stood up. He walked, fast. Big strides, you supposed. It never occurred to you that he was moving fast because he was oh so desperate to be alone with you.
You hummed as you leant against the wall, exhaling a mouthful of smoke. You then handed the cigarette back to Remus, who was staring at you like you were the only girl in the world.
‘Christ,’ he thought ‘this’ll kill me.’
Your eyes landed on Remus and you grinned at him. He smiled back before putting out the cigarette. You pressed your face against the cool bricks of the building; the fresh air was relieving you of the stickiness of the pub.
“That comfy?” he asked, chuckling slightly as he looked at you.
“Rem?” you inhale, sharply. You need to ask him. You tell yourself, you have to.
“Yeah?”
“Why haven’t you looked at me since James walked in on, whatever that was?” you asked, mumbling slightly, “If you don’t like me, that’s fine I suppose but, I’d just like you to tell m-“
“ ‘Course I fucking like you, don’t be stupid. I was scared, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to embarrass you. In all honesty, I was certain it would put you off me. I’m pretty sure you’re the only person here I can handle being around for a good month straight.”
You giggled, quietly. Looking up at him, you saw something in his eyes. You couldn’t pin point it, but whatever it was made you feel admired. “Alright. I believe you.”
“Good.” he said, quite plainly. He said your name. You peered up at him. He’d moved. He was stood directly in front of you. You tensed, praying it wouldn’t be a replay of the intense anticipation from yesterday.
“Looks like the cut is healing up nice.” your voice was barely above a whisper as you spoke. He smiled slightly, taking another step towards you. Your back was pressed firmly against the wall.
“Yeah?”
“Mhm!”
“Let me say thanks for cleaning me up?”
“Mhm!” your voice cracked part way through your squeal of approval. He giggled and you felt his breath fan against your face. You had your eyes screwed shut.
“Look at me.” he said. Your eyes opened immediately. “You’re gorgeous, you know that?”
You stayed silent, staring up at him wide eyed.
“Everything anyone could ever want. Everything I could ever want. You’ve got no need to be jealous of those lot. You’re at least a hundred times better.” he mumbled. One of his hands drifted down to your waist, delicately squeezing at the fat there. The other cupped the side of your cheek, forcing you to look up at him.
Cheers erupted from the pub. You couldn’t help yourself.
“I think someone scored.” you whispered.
“Yeah? Or maybe they’re cheering us on.” Remus said before colliding his lips with your own. He tasted of beer, which normally would be repulsive, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care because it was Remus. It was dreamy eyed, pillowy lipped and pretty faced Remus Lupin and you were kissing him. Your Hands latched onto his shoulders, holding on for dear life. It may have looked like you were attempting to push him away, but in reality you were making sure this was real. That you weren’t caught up in a daydream.
Remus thought you were everything. Really. The whole package. You tried your best in everything, apart from dealing with Sirius, and he thought it was so unbelievably attractive. He wanted you to consume him inside and out. You’d already done so to his thoughts. Your lips felt like silk against his own. Remus Lupin had kissed many people. He didn’t think any kisses previously shared lived up to you. Perhaps it was the build up of tension or maybe it was the close proximity the bus forced onto the two of you. Whatever it was, neither of you couldn’t care less.
He pulled away. He breathed. You felt his exhale fan across your face. It forced you into laughter. Tucking your head into his chest, you wondered if this moment could last forever.
“Okay?” he asked, delicately running his fingers through your hair. You nodded. He hummed. You shivered. “Cold?”
“Yeah.” you admitted. He slips off his jacket. His pretty leather jacket that you assume he was coerced into buying by Sirius. You were glad, actually, because he looked completely and utterly gorgeous in it. You tugged on the jacket, after he handed it to you. “Thank you.” you mumble, peering up at him. You’d already pulled away from his chest, but you wished you hadn’t. It was comfortable and sweet. You wanted to go home with him. Unfortunately, Glasgow isn’t quite home. “Can we go back?” you asked.
“Back to the bus?”
“Yeah.”
“ ‘Course we can, dove.” he smirked, lopsidedly. Your face flushed. He chuckled quietly, interlinking his hand with your own as you walked. You couldn’t seem to keep your mouth shut for the duration of the walk. Remus hummed, nodded, asked questions and laughed as you rambled. You didn’t think it got better than this. You finished your final sentence about music and grinned up at Remus. He smiled back.
“After the tour, let me take you out, yeah? Somewhere nice, and preferably not in the murder capital of Europe.” he said, smile still on his face. It wasn’t often Remus asked a question spontaneously. His actions were almost always premeditated. However, it was you. He just couldn’t help himself.
“I’d really like that, I think.” you replied. Your eyes crinkled at the corners with how wide you smiled. You bit your tongue; you’d much rather die than let out the squeal of excitement that was brewing.
You had to get through the tour first.
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around1302 · 10 months
Text
YOU WROTE ME
SPARE PARTS: blurb 1/1
THE TROUBADOUR, LONDON
(W) strong language, alcohol use, brief smut: if u can call it that
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THIRD PERSON’S POV
9 MONTHS POST-SPLIT
“Why can’t you just trust that it’ll be fun?”
“Because you don’t even know who’s playing! What if it’s some screamo guy and I get traumatised.”
“Please, Charlie, you’ve met my friend. You think he’s going to guitar for a screamo guy?”
Charlie pauses, remembering everything she can from the brief meeting between her and Becca’s friend at her house party last week.
“Yes. Yes I do.”
Becca rolls her eyes, nodding in gratitude at the bouncers who let them into the Troubadour, past the lines and lines of people. Charlie has to admit that’s promising, at least. Surely a hundred teenage girls wouldn’t be queueing for something unworthwhile.
“I thought as a musician you’d be buzzing for a free invite to the Troub!”
Charlie’s turn to roll her eyes, now.
“The Troub?”
“Let me pretend I’m in on the lingo, too.”
“God, you’re just making it worse.”
Becca is Charlie’s only remaining friend from her pre-band days. In contact far too little, but enough to see each other in between schedules. Becca manages a restaurant in London, and throws killer house parties every Saturday. It’s ritual.
Of course, with band life, Charlie barely ever attended. But since the split and a (much too long) nine month hiatus from the industry, she’s had a little more time for living her 20s like she never entered that competition in the first place.
“You want a drink?” Becca shouts over the already loud crowd. Just as Charlie opens her mouth to answer, her forearm’s gripped so tightly she’s sure the blood supply’s been cut off.
“Oh my God! Charlie Greene?” A girl practically screams in her face, holding the hand that isn’t keeping Charlie there in a death grip over her mouth.
Despite her usually extreme routine when it comes to being avoided in public, Charlie assumed tonight could be a one off. Who would recognise her in this crowd, in this venue? Panic strickens her before Becca has to step in, shoving the girls palm off.
“Dude, don’t touch strangers like that.”
“Sorry, sorry, I’m just such a huge fan. I can’t believe you’re here! We all thought they were just rumours.”
“What?” Charlie’s dumbfound, forgetting all that media-trained ‘smile at the fans, don’t let them know you want to punch them’ bullshit.
“You know, you and–”
“Look, I’m sure you’re a nice kid, but we’re just trying to enjoy our night. You want me to buy you some alcohol to get you to go away?”
“Becca–”
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, of course. E-enjoy your night.”
The poor girl scurries away, screaming something to her group but Charlie’s too riddled with guilt to hear what.
“For fuck’s sake, Becs, she’s like sixteen!”
“Gripped you like a forty year old WWE champ though, look at your arm!”
Charlie glances down, noticing the white and red splotches beneath the hazy blue lights. Becca has a point, even if she was a little harsh about it.
“Screw the drinks, let’s just get backstage before anyone else tries to cut off your circulation.”
Nodding, Charlie follows Becca through the crowd, making sure to keep her head down this time. Of course they’re asked for IDs and stage passes before getting through, Becca proudly letting security know they’re friends of the guitarist.
“I’m so proud of Mitch, man. He’s come so far. Can you believe he used to work in a pizza shop?”
“I know, it’s impressive shit,” Charlie nods, hugging her hoodie tight to her chest. Something bad swirls in her gut as she watches the audience from the safety of a thick curtain, seeing whispers and screams shared.
“You don’t think that’s about me, do you?” She points for Becca. Becca scoffs.
“Nah, don’t get too up your own ass, Char. The act’s probably about to come on.”
The band will be entering from stage left, opposite to them both. Charlie has to admit she’s curious. It’s been forever since she’s attended any kind of underground gig, it’s exciting – what music’s really about.
“Gemma Styles.”
Until that moment.
Ears ringing, throat drying, sweat forming. Charlie grips her hoodie so tight her knuckles blanch – she’s wrong, she has to be. It’s just her mind and anxiety playing tricks on her. It’d be impossible for–
“No way, Charlie?”
“Fuck.”
“… Charlie?”
“I mean hi! Sorry, hi!”
Pretending her ears aren’t still painfully ringing, Charlie accepts the open arms of the woman in front of her. Specifically, the sister in front of her. Her ears stop buzzing enough for her to hear Becca’s gasp beside her, and enough to hear her heart coming up through her throat.
“I can’t believe you’re here, it’s so good to see you!”
The one thing Charlie never understood was how Harry could be so intolerable and Gemma could be so… Gemma. Despite the ugliest truth she’s discovered in a while coming undone, she feels somewhat comforted by her hug and her words and her smile.
Perhaps they’re all a little too alike Harry, or perhaps the opposite. She can’t tell. There’s a lot happening.
“Yeah, um…” at a complete loss for words, Becca quickly steps in.
“Hi, I’m Rebecca. Friends with the guitarist.”
“Oh, Mitch! Isn’t he amazing? I’m Gemma, Harry’s sister.”
“Jesus, I’m sorry.”
Charlie shoots Becca a pointed glare. She apologises again, a little more sincerely this time.
“So does Harry know you’re here? Bet he’s thrilled, are the others here?”
“Um, no. And no. Not that I know of. I’m actually here for Mitch, too.”
“Oh, I–” Gemma frowns, understandably confused, but is cut off by the house lights dimming and some opening music starting.
Charlie pinches at her arm beneath the once soft material, it only now feels scratchy and too thick. Should she run? It seems like her only viable option. Except her feet are failing her and it’s too fucking late because–
“Hi everyone! I’m Harry, it’s a pleasure. This is my wonderful band, and we’re going to play a few songs for you. Starting with a new one, this is Complicated Freak.”
Frozen to her place, Charlie listened harbouring feelings she couldn’t quite place. Part of her wishes she had just done those few shots before she left like Becca had quite smartly suggested, but a larger part of her wishes she never came.
Because fuck, has she missed him.
She’s missed his voice, and his hands, and his eyes, and his dimples, and she could say she’s missed his hair but that’s gone with the last nine months. She missed watching him concentrate entirely too hard on playing the guitar and she missed watching that crease form between his brows as he closes his eyes and just feels the music. His music.
The music that sounds eerily familiar. Then suddenly flashes of a tour bus come to mind; long hair and slender fingers strumming a guitar. Lyrics that rendered a little to close to home but were promptly ignored at the time now echo the venue, echo her chest.
“Thank you so, so much everyone. I’ll see you soon!”
Harry lifts his palm to the roaring crowd, intimate and small yet still as deafeningly loud as she remembers them always being for him. Begging for an encore, or at the very least one more wave.
But it’s only then that she realises, still stuck to the floor, that he’s taking his guitar off. He’s offering the audience one final bow and kiss, and he’s turning, and he’s walking, and he’s grinning ear to ear and accepting his friends and family’s congratulations, and then he’s stopping, and he’s staring, and his lungs have stopped and his heart has faltered and–
“You wrote me.”
His lips quiver, paused in an effort to say the right thing. Say anything.
“Yeah, I…”
It’s as if the venue and people around them grew wings and flew away as time itself stopped just for them. The first time they had seen eye to eye in the time you could grow a whole fucking baby for God’s sake – and yet they could barely speak. So much unsaid, it’s almost too much. What do you start to say to the love of your life – who you lost?
Luckily, the people around them didn’t actually grow wings.
“We’ll see you later, H,” his older sister squeezes his dead arm, nodding towards Charlie (as if she saw) and then the other confused onlookers who had developed behind them during the show but fuck if Charlie noticed.
Gemma leads the group out, leaving the pair of them in a silent standoff, the muted sound of a dying crowd and crew starting to clean punctuating the quiet.
“Drink?”
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“I wanted to call you so many times.” Charlie finally admits, three double vodkas deep.
“Why didn’t you?” Harry almost whispers four whiskeys in.
Malibu’s, their old, usual haunt, has been avoided for the last nine months. Not a single band member dared to go, whether it be that Zayn no longer bartends there or that they were afraid of memories. But it felt like the only place for them to be right now. Elbows leant on the same sticky counter, knees pressed together in their tipsy mis-care, no time passed yet the whole world between them.
“I was scared.” Charlie begins. “I needed time, and after I realised that you leaving us didn’t really matter in the end, I was too late.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Come on, Harry. I saw the tabloids. A month after we split you were seen with this person, that person. You had moved on from us, from me.”
Her confession is startlingly sobering, and Harry can’t help but gulp down a painful lump at the way her eyes water. Harry hadn’t moved on in any sense of the word, Harry was simply trying to find Charlie in anyone he could. The way in which he had coped with his web of feelings for the woman for the past six and a half years.
“I could never move on from you, Char. I was just… lost.”
Charlie snorts, turning to down the rest of her drink.
“Baby I–”
They both freeze. Harry didn’t mean to call her that, but God, doesn’t it feel natural? Isn’t that why it slipped out in the first place? Yet, a slap in the face would have felt better for Charlie. The vodka gets caught in her throat, the once warm liquor running ice cold down her chest.
She turns, her heart melting at the sight of his face. It’s that same heartbreaking, broken concoction of regret and worry knitting his brows and dripping from his eyes. And it has her lips hungrily on his.
He catches her, grabbing her hips as he opens his legs for her and draws her to his chest, breathing in every inch of her. Because that’s what kissing Charlie is like. Oxygen for the first time, water for the first time, life for the first time. His rough hands snake up her back, grip her sides, pinch her skin. Her nails rake at the nape of his neck, muscle memory expecting locks to hold onto but finding short curls as their home instead.
Their tongues and lips work in an unspoken agreement, all the way to her new apartment by the bar, all the way to her bed.
They didn’t speak. They were both far too terrified to lose this moment. They just needed each other, the touch they’d both been desperately chasing for months. Charlie closes her eyes as Harry’s mouth starts its attack on her neck and is transported to Louis’ apartment, where she first felt that same desperation.
“Please.” She breathes, wrapping her legs around his hips, eliciting from him a muffled groan as she grinds up towards him. He nods into her neck, his lips still working down her soft skin. She still tastes the same, that strawberry vanilla he could drink by the gallon.
Charlie claws at his back, making an attempt to remove his black button-up as he moves down her body. She just about manages it as he settles between her legs, pushing up her denim dress without grace or care before biting the edge of her knickers.
The heels of her feet press into his toned back, her palms already fisting the sheets as he harshly grips her hips to push her back into the mattress.
A million thoughts run through Harry’s head, but fear holds him back from saying a single one of them. Months ago, he would’ve told Charlie everything. How good her thighs feel, how fucking pretty she looks laying there, needy for him. How much her soft little pants sound like she should be begging for him, how hard he is for her like this.
But he can’t. For all he knows, he’s simply a mouth right now. He’s not Harry, he’s just something she needs, and fuck if he’ll be whatever she needs.
So he bites into her inner thigh, sucking away the sharpness as she grips and tugs at his hair. He moans into her skin, eyelashes fluttering against her hips as he kisses the top of her pubic bone. His touch is rough in every place but his lips as he makes a path to her core, pressing teasing kisses over her clit. Her knickers are fucking soaked through, and the sight alone is enough to send him berserk.
“Charlie, I’m gonna have to–”
“Please, just–”
With that sliver of permission, he reaches down, squeezing himself over his trousers. The slightly relieved pressure has him gasping against her lace, which quickly becomes wetter. Charlie sits up on her elbows, watching Harry touch and squeeze while he continues to tease her.
And it’s there. In between the need and the pleasure, Charlie begins to cry. Softly, quietly, but enough to garner Harry’s distracted attention.
“Hey, hey,” Harry moves back up her body, tugging her dress back into place as he squeezes her hip, “I’m sorry, I-”
“It’s fine.” Charlie’s voice cracks as her head hits the pillow, hot tears quickly meeting her hairline before she can wipe them away.
“Sweetheart–”
“I’m not your fucking sweetheart.” Charlie murmurs between gritted teeth, sending Harry aback. He sits up on his heels, his touch slowly leaving her. Charlie presses her palms into her eyes, squeezing the tears out as she muffles sobs against her hands.
“That’s the problem.”
It’s hardly above a whisper, but Harry hears every last syllable. Leaning back over her, he removes her fists, gently brushing her blotchy cheeks.
“I’m just drunk and emotional and weird and–”
“Stop it,” Harry murmurs, pulling her up to sit in front of him. “Tell me what you’re feeling.” When she doesn’t budge, he drops his head and whispers, “please.”
Charlie finds his eye. In so many ways, he’s unchanged. He still looks at her like that, and it crumbles her, just as easily as it did all those months ago.
“Everything got so fucked up, Harry. The band, me, us. I haven’t sang a chord in months. I see the guys, what, once, twice a month? And you…”
“It’s my fault, Char.” Harry sighs, collapsing beside her, rubbing his face. “I left, I split everyone up–”
“You needed to.” She interrupts, stern. “I didn’t realise at the time, it took me a while to accept it, but you needed to. Niall was starting a family, everyone was starting to burn out, even if we didn’t want to admit it.”
“You did the right thing.”
Those fives words are all that Harry’s wanted to hear for nine months. He’s spent countless, sleepless nights wondering if he’d messed everything up for everyone, forever. If in his selfishness he’d forgotten to use logic.
“I’m just not sure I did.”
Harry frowns, turning to look at Charlie.
“What do you mean, Charlie?”
“I worry that I was… hasty. Rash.”
Harry can’t help the small smile that starts to tug at his lips. He lifts his knees and rests his chin on his palm to hide it.
“I did a really messed up thing, you were justified.”
“No.” Charlie sighs, looking at the ceiling. “I was right to be mad, but I wasn’t right to have said all the stuff I did. I was especially not right to leave you.”
Harry’s chest jumps, but he tries to calm his excited heart before Charlie can finish. When it comes to her, there’s no real predictability. She might be about to destroy him all over again.
“Those six years mean more to me than anything I’ve done in my entire life. You were there through everything, every shitty and amazing thing, all I can think about is flashes of you. My sister, my audition, my first heartbreak, my first– I could go on and on, but the point is, you were there.”
“Even if you annoyed the shit out of me for the better part of it, you’re my life, Harry. I was stupid to think I could ever live it in the same way without you.”
It’s impossible to fight his grin, now.
Charlie finally turns to face him, instantly rolling her eyes at the sight of him. His entirely too wide smile, his glinting eyes and how they quickly flit to her lips, the twitch between his brows that lets her know he’s holding back a comment.
And despite his speechlessness, his answer is obvious.
“You sure you don’t want someone easier?” Charlie lilts, swaying into him.
“Why on Earth would I want anyone else?”
“I don’t know. I yell at you a lot.”
“I’d rather have you hate my guts than have anyone else.” Harry takes her waist, easing her beneath him again as he hovers over her. “I’ve spent my entire life waiting to hear you say that, you know.”
“Entire life is a bit dramatic.” Charlie drapes her arms around his neck, her fingers finding his nape. That hair is going to take some getting used to.
“Nope,” Harry pops his P, leaning down to press a kiss to her jaw. “You’re my life too, Char.”
She leans back into the pillow, her thumb circling his neck. “You mean it?”
It’s Harry’s turn to roll his eyes, now.
“You really have to ask? What more could I possibly do to prove to you that you’re it for me, you always have been.”
Charlie smirks. “I could think of something.”
“Always thinking with your dick, Greene.”
Charlie lets out a scoff, and Harry let’s his chest do whatever it wants.
@lilfreakjez @be-with-me-so-happily @sirtommyholland @tpwksm @b-reads-things @tiaamberxx @daphnesutton @mleestiles
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sublimecatgalaxy · 1 year
Text
Read It and Weep- Part 2
Pairing: NFL!Player!Rafe Cameron x Journalist!Reader
Summary: After a week of chaos, the Reader goes to interview their team during practice, chatting with them all about their win and their hopes for the next few Playoff games. But when the team sees how Rafe and Y/n interact, they decide to mess around a bit.
Word Count: 2.7k
Warnings: Violence, swearing, flirting, sexual tension.
Song: 'Bubbly' by Colbie Caillat
A/n: I'm so excited for this part. I love their interaction and I love writing their flirty moments. It's gonna get steamier from here on in so hold on! @tee-swizzle, here's your babydaddy.
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I got so many messages following Sunday’s game.
Instagram, snapchat, twitter, my email was even blowing up along with text messages rumbling in from nearly every single person that I know along with people that I had never met before. 
There was this sudden interest in my life. People who really never wanted anything to do with me in high school now want everything to do with me, tickets to games, behind the scenes info, all the things that I would give them if we were actually friends but we’re not. Old family members that I didn’t talk to anymore except for birthdays and holidays were suddenly so interested in my job, wanting to read everything I’ve ever published. 
There were even tweets left by other football players on my most recent tweet that I posted, addressing the loads of questions about my state and about whether I’m okay or not. I just simply stated that I’m okay and don’t need any medical interventions and that Rafe was a gentleman for helping me up. I only made the post in the first place because half of the people that commented or reached out were concerned that Rafe had actually hurt me when he took me down when indeed, it was just my pride. Had I known that by posting that, I’d be getting interaction from every football player out there, I wouldn’t have posted it to begin with, especially with the incessant jokes they’ve left on my page- jokes that have attracted news stations in our area along with NFL commentators.
Rafe Cameron’s new woman?
Was the run in between sports journalist Y/n Y/L/N and Rafe Cameron planned to act as  a sort of ‘hard launch’?
Does Y/L/N have it out for Rafe Cameron’s wide receiver paycheck? 
The jokes started with Rafe’s own team, the team who’s known me as their faithful journalist, all turning against me to make jokes at my expense about how I ‘fell for Cameron’ and even made jokes about making our ‘ship name’ on shirts and hats for the whole team to wear. 
Given their track record, I assumed that they’d do it. 
But it did bother me, to see people all of a sudden equate my worth to one incident with a person that I barely know, chalking up our ten minutes of conversation into this huge love story where I’m the desperate damsel and he’s this loverboy giving me the chance of a lifetime, a chance to ‘be with him’, even though neither him nor I have talked to each other since the whole incident.
I got people asking me for interviews left and right, newscasters begging me to come on their shows and podcasts to speak about my opinion of the Rafe Cameron. I even got a call from my own manager asking if I would write a piece on Rafe and I almost agreed but then I wondered how weird it would be for him to read an article written by the girl that he flirted with during a whole entire conference and also toppled over when winning one of the most important games of the season. 
I came up with the alternative that I would go and interview all of the players as a whole during their at home practice before we all hop on a plane and go to Boston for a playoff game. My boss was on board and claimed it would bring in enough publicity, especially since half the country is looking forward to hearing Rafe and I interact, pining after us like we’re some fictional romance or as if I’m a contestant on a TLC dating show. 
My heels click against the concrete of the tunnel and my stomach only hurts more and more the closer I get to the literal light at the end of the tunnel. I can hear the men yelling and running around and I can already picture the bright smiles on all of their faces, knowing how excited they get for interviews. They’ll do anything for a break. 
I’m going to be honest, the amount of effort that went into my outfit, make up and hair was probably a little bit excessive but there’s a part of me that wants to do what everyone’s been talking about all over social media; knock Rafe off his feet. It was such a confidence boost to see Rafe completely and utterly enthralled in my very presence at the conference and I’d be stupid to ignore the follow request in my instagram right now, from him. 
When I stepped out into the sun, I’m immediately caught off guard by a bunch of whistles sung into the air, my neck craning to look at the bench with a teasing look, watching the huge men lining the bench wave sweetly at me with feigned affection. I give them an awkward wave in return as they all begin to shout individually; 
“Hey Cameron! Your girlfriends here!”
“Rafe, your girl’s here to see you.”
“Your baby mama's here, Rafe!”
“Baby mama- what?” I giggle breathlessly and under my breath, watching Rafe slip his helmet off and he jogs towards me. Before he can reach me, I take a step back, holding a teasing hand up to his chest, feeling his heart pound beneath my fingers. “Don’t want you taking me down again.” He looks shocked for a moment before he laughs sheepishly, eyes rolling at my obvious taunting and he takes a step back with his arms raised in surrender. 
“Jesus, it was one time.” He scoffs, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck, a gentle blush sweeping across his cheeks cutely. “I’m never gonna get past that am I?” My head shakes rapidly at him with a huge, proud grin, reaching out to pat his shoulder, feeling sparks beneath my fingers. 
“Never, nope. Not when the whole internet is talking about it.” A look of realization passes across his face and I can see the images of the tweets and articles pass through his eyes and I imagine the same, picturing all of the snapshots that the cameramen managed to take of us and, to be honest, it took everything in me to not save them to my phone and send them to my dad who still refuses to believe that Rafe and I actually talked, even after hearing the post-conference conversation and the actual tackle in the first place. 
“Correction, talking about us.” He grins, swaying gently on his feet while pointing a finger between the two of us and I tilt my head at him with a dumb smile.
“What us?”
“Ouch Cameron, she’s got you wrapped around her little, talented finger.” Greg approaches us quickly and without warning, swooping an arm around Rafe’s shoulder as he gives me a handsome smile and a wink. Rafe’s soft expression drops almost immediately and it doesn’t go without noticing the way his shoulders tense the minute Greg appears, his hungry eyes staring at me like a predator would look at its prey.
“Hi Greg.” I smile politely, ignoring the way that Rafe takes a step closer to me, glazing over at me as I pull my notepad out, prepared to give Greg my typical interview questions but he speaks before I can ask any questions.
“Hey, sweetcheeks. Are you here to interview us? Coach said something about it.” Greg asks, turning to look at Rafe with a shit eating grin and Rafe sighs, shoving his friend away from him and taking another protective step towards me, arm brushing against mine and it sends goosebumps down my spine.
“Yeah, I wanted to chat with some of you during practice, get some lines about the playoffs and winning last week's game.”
“Oh you mean the game where you won a buddy-boy's heart?” Greg winks at Rafe and Rafe clears his throat awkwardly, looking down at his feet with a tired smile. I pick up on the tension that’s between them, as if something’s happened in the last week that I’ve seen them. They’ve been fine all season, all buddy-buddy, a cute bromance, but today I can see the discomfort practically oozing out of Rafe as he stands so closely beside me. 
“Get the fuck out of here, Greg. You’re the fucking quarterback, you need practice more than any of us.” Rafe shoves him away and turns to me, ignoring the questioning look that his friend gives him and I make a mental note to write down the ‘tension’ that appears to be wracking through the team as the playoffs come and go.
“Ouch, baby needs a nap.” Greg sends me a wink and a pervish smile, shoving Rafe towards me as he stumbles and I reach out to steady him, hands gripping his strong shoulders. 
“Sorry about him. He’s a pain.” Rafe mutters, returning to his normal position across from me, still standing closer than before but keeping an honest distance between us, something my mom would call ‘leaving room for Jesus’ and, I’ll be honest, the closeness, the protectiveness, is extremely attractive and refreshing to see, especially from Rafe who’s already so strong and protective as is. And incredibly hot if I might add, not much room for Jesus here.
“Oh really? Couldn’t tell.” I laugh, reaching out to pat his shoulder in an attempt to console him and his shoulders roll in an attempt to loosen up a bit, jaw slacking. He laughs sheepishly at me with a soft smile, hooded eyes sweeping to look down at the ground and I can just make out the blush on his cheeks as he turns to look back at the team that’s still practicing.
“You’re funny. And stunning. You look different than your typical get-up.” His eyes shift to look over me once more, this time ten times more obvious than he did when he first approached me but not nearly as obvious as Greg’s eyes on my boobs.
“You know what my typical getup is?” I ask with an honest tilt of my head, teasing him but at the same time, it makes me wonder if he’s truly been paying attention to me longer than last week. The thought makes me think back to every single outfit I’ve ever worn in front of him, remembering the one time I wore a pretty embarrassing spongebob shirt to practice one day after I had woken up, completely and utterly hungover.
“I pay attention.” He shrugs with a coy smile.
“To a random journalist?”
“To a random beautiful woman? Yes.” His flirting is incessant but I have to give him credit because he is possibly one of the most sweet talking, charming people I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. He seems to know just what I want to hear and just what will have my heart racing. “Most distracting thing on the field.” He bumps me with his shoulder and I grin vividly, hands reaching up to rest on my cheeks to conceal the heat coming from them. “Did you get my follow request?”
“We should talk about the game.” I laugh awkwardly, suddenly feeling so comfortably claustrophobic in his shadow and I’m so close to him that I could just lean into him and fit my body into his. I bet his body would fit against mine like Cinderella's slipper. 
Isn’t that what they’re calling us? A match made in heaven?
“Fine, fine. I’ll reel it in a bit.” 
We fall into a comfortable silence, both of us turning to watch the players on the field, tossing the ball back and forth and running drills- but what gets my attention is the noises coming from the bench and I turn my head to see four of the players making faces at Rafe and I and clutching their chests in cute affection.
“Don’t look now but they’re making kissy faces at us.” I whisper to Rafe and he scoffs, giving them a simple look out of the corner of his eyes before he leans down to me, whispering against the shell of my ear and it has me gulping in breaths of air.
“Ignore them. They’re pussy-sober which makes them sad and stupid.” I giggle, shoving him away from me with wide, playful eyes.
“Oh and you’re not?” His lips part in a look of shock but a pleasant shock as his dropped jaw slowly turns into a bright smile, his head once more lulling forward as he avoids looking at me out of pure embarrassment. 
“Ouch, Y/l/n.” He whispers, reaching up to pat his chest with a pout. “You wound me.”
“And you literally wounded me.” Folding my arms across my chest he pouts with furrowed brows, hands reaching out to rest on my shoulders as he gives me another once over, almost as if he’s looking for injuries though I think the real reason is to just have another reason to look at me.
“Fuck, I asked if you were hurt, you said you were fine. Are you okay? Do you need to get checked out, I’ll pay-” He starts but I reach up to place a hand on his chest, cutting his words off and instead he’s now tuned in on the fact that I’m touching him, his heart rate speeding up beneath my touch.
“Rafe, it’s a big bruise on my hip. I’ll live.”  
The coach calls Rafe over almost immediately before Rafe can ask to see the wound on my hip and I’m glad that he did because the last thing I wanted was for him to see how big the bruise is and how big of a baby I actually am. How he was already so ready to take care of me, help me pay for medical care- I’m beginning to wonder if he’s just like this or if he’s just like this with me.
It’s fun to watch him play, watch him sprint across the field and catch the ball effortlessly, nine times out of ten falling dramatically to the ground after catching it and looking back at me with wide, excited eyes, almost asking ‘did you see that?’ It makes me appreciate his roots, the fact that at one time, he was just a little boy playing flag football and winning high school games and now he’s with the big boys, making all of his dreams come true. It’s quite the tearjerker. 
“Hey, Y/n!” Rafe calls out suddenly, startling me from my note taking and I spot him running towards me with a ball. “Wanna learn how to throw?” He asks, tossing me the ball and I grin down at it, feeling the worn leather beneath my hands as Rafe’s pupils dilate a bit watching me, his hands moving to grip at the neckline of his jersey.
“Is this a part of the interview?” I ask teasingly, tossing the ball back in his direction and he rolls his eyes dramatically. “You don’t throw the ball, Rafe-”
 “You can just say ‘I was shown exactly how Rafe and Greg do what they do and look great while doing it.” He winks and I scoff at him, turning my head just to hide the shit eating grin on my lips that seems to be a permanent thing around him. “C’mon.” He reaches out to take my hand gently in his as he begins to walk backwards, taking me further onto the field with every step I take. “Please?” He pleads, thumb brushing against my hand as I ponder for a moment, weighing the pros and cons but when I come up with nothing, I give him a simple shrug, taking the ball from him with a grin. 
“Why not?”
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Series Tags: @onedayatatime6 @hysteriahall @littlefirefly08 @hanniebee33 @imsorare @acatwriteshere
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dojunie · 1 year
Text
MESSENGER; HRJ [PT 4: COFFEE VS TEA]
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➥ PART 4 OF MESSENGER; a small smau about a stranger, a whole lot of animal pics, and a relationship you would never have expected to come from texting a random number written on a public bathroom mirror.
➥ WC: 1.7K
[PREVIOUS PART] [INFO/MASTERLIST] [NEXT PART]
a/n: first written bit! lets see if i like this formatting in an hour and if not pretend you dont see me changing shit around 💪
current tl: @matchahyuck @theboyz-jacob @hoeshi17 @neoteez01 @hibernatinghamster @luvvsnae @shwizhies @skynightgalaxy @ihrtnyu @kunvibing @liliansun @txpxwxk @is4b3ll3s @rxnexxi @rum-gone-why @she-is-dreaming
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THE LINE RINGS FOR ABOUT TWO ENTIRE SECONDS BEFORE EVERYTHING GOES VERY, VERY QUIET— And it’s only within that silence that you seem to realize that you might’ve just done something… weird.
Thoughtlessness was what had you pressing that call button (or maybe there was thought behind it; just the type that tired, sleep deprived, stupid people would have). Regret hits you like a brick when all your brain's neurons finally seem to reconnect. What the hell are you doing? You don’t know this guy! You don’t even know his name— not to mention that he doesn’t know yours! And somehow, before common sense caught up to you, you thought it was the logical next step to call him?
You’re stood in front of your desk with your headphones in your ears probably looking crazy as you stare at the screen, thoughts in sudden overdrive trying to figure out how to ‘Oops, butt dial!' your way out this— when it stops ringing.
Now connecting, Duck Boy.
“…Hello?”
Oh.
Your spine stiffens nearly upright at the sound of his voice. His... voice. Him. Duck Boy. Who once only existed in your mind as a selfie and a few bossy-yet-endearing texts, and now you’ve got a selfie, some texts, and a voice. 
Christ, why is your mind spinning like you’ve just unearthed some sort of incredible clue? It’s not like there’s anything stopping you from just asking him to meet up or something since this stupid mystery game is really only being perpetuated by you— but still, you find yourself overanalyzing the single word, the surprisingly low drawl of his tone (his voice is much, much deeper than you thought it would be), even the clarity of his speech and diction.
However. Again—and you can’t even blame the exhaustion for this because you feel wide awake now— you do something weird.
Too busy marveling over how he sounds, you completely forget to respond.
“Mystery girl…?” Duck Boy says again, startling you. “If you’re doing this to keep me awake, I’ve got to say— still kind of falling asleep over here.”
“M’was— Headphones,” you blurt. A lie. Your headphones have been in your ears for about two hours now as you worked on your architecture project, but he did not need to know that. “Was putting in my headphones. Hi.”
“…Hi.”
A shuffling on the line, like he's sitting up or shifting or something, and then he laughs a little bit in the ensuing silence. “You called me and broke your coveted mystique just to tell me hi?”
“No. I’m distracted. I'm... making tea. You don’t appreciate my hello?”
God. Three more lies. At least it’s not for long because this, plus the slight embarrassment washing under your skin, jumpstarts you into turning on your heel and darting into the kitchen. 
“I didn’t say that,” he hums. “You sure like putting words in my mouth. I meant, because you called me all gung-ho like, I was expecting a little more than a greeting. A quiz, or something. A game plan.”
“I have a plan.”
Holy shit, in the span of fifteen seconds you’ve turned into the biggest liar in the world. What plan? You hadn’t even fully recognized you were calling him until he picked up! “It’s twenty questions. The ultimate stay-awake game. I’ll ask such thoughtful questions that your brain will start to steam in that airport.”
This seems to catch him off guard; He snorts a laugh, a loud, pretty sound that you assume is immediately muffled because he’s in public. You’d been in the middle of setting a kettle on the stove when you heard it, and couldn’t help but smile a little widely in triumph. You made him laugh. Cool. 
“Is that so?” he snickers.
Slightly loosened up now, you shrug. “Of course. Let’s open it up with something easy. Coffee— or tea? There is a right answer.”
“How is there a right answer if you’re asking me what I like?”
“Between coffee and tea, of course there’s a right answer. One is good, crafted from nature and angels and all that is pure; a perfectly warm drink that soothes illness and brings joy to those young and old. And the other one is bitter and evil and rhymes with moffy.”
He laughs again. Shit. Should you consider becoming a comedian? Is this weird giddiness how they all feel when they get people to laugh? 
“I’m sure you’ve probably just never had good coffee,” he tries, “It’s not all bitter—“
“Are you putting forth your vote? Coffee? The devil’s choice of beverage?”
“No! You’re annoying. I like both.”
“That’s not the question I asked you, Duck Boy.”
You don’t even realize you’ve called him the name you refer to him as in your head. It slips out easily, a product of ease and amusement and familiarity— which is surprising to say when you’ve only been talking to this guy for a few minutes— but he doesn’t even seem to phase himself, only groaning as you badger him for an answer.
“Is it illegal to like both?” he asks finally, feigning hastiness. “Different occasions. Coffee to wake me up, tea to cool me down. Next question.”
“Don’t get too hasty, because the next question is in the same vein. What do you eat with your tea or coffee? Snack wise?”
“I would say I like bread with both,” he says confidently. “Like croissants? I really like croissants.”
“Something must be wrong with you.”
“What—“ You almost hear how he sits up, immediately affronted. “Hey!”
“Bread? Like just… straight bread? Yeast and egg and flour? With something as bitter as coffee, you’re not even going to have a donut or something? Lord, not even a muffin?”
“I don’t care for sweets! What do you like then, since you’re apparently the chooser of everything good?”
You lean against the counter, absentmindedly watching your kettle as you sigh theatrically, stretching like someone would before they run a marathon or swim a thousand meters. “You’re asking the wrong person this question,” you warn. “I could spend the next hour talking about snack combinations. Chamomile tea and banana nut muffins, a slice of frosted lemon cake with a taaaaall mug of double-steeped Earl Gray. I’m something of a savant in my field, you know. I might have to make you sign an NDA to protect my trade secrets.”
Duck Boy scoffs but you’re pleased to hear what sounds like a hidden smile— maybe even a grin. 
“Consider it signed,” he says. There’s another shift, a sound like fabric rustling, and then he sighs as if he’s just made himself comfortable; which, in an airport terminal seat, must be a fruitless effort. “I have nothing but time, Mystery Girl.”
Your tea was pretty great, all things considered. A London Fog with two teabags instead of one, a capful of vanilla essence to sweeten, milk and sugar— the perfect wind-down drink. It was no wonder then, when you returned to your room and found yourself heading for your bed instead of returning to the desk to continue your insidious diorama floor plan project, that your eyelids started to get a little heavy about fifteen minutes into twirling your finger around the headphone wire while talking with Duck Boy. You have been up for the last day after all, class and practice and studying, and tea at this hour always ends up knocking you on your ass after about half an hour.
The sudden onset tiredness isn’t helped by the fact that talking to him is so easy, either. 
It’s effortless. Who would have thought that the guy who routinely scolds you through text, periods and capitals and perfect grammar everywhere, could actually crack a few good jokes? It’s his dry humor that gets you, a deadpan delivery that had nearly made you spill hot tea on yourself three times; but you made him bark a laugh so loud at one point that he got the evil-eye from an airline attendant, so the scoreboard’s still in your favor.
Whether or not he can hear the sleepy lull in your voice through the phone, you’re not sure. He does seem to take the reins on question-asking though. Little things like your favorite color, musical genre, if you’re a homebody or the type to always be out and about. It’s a lot of good information (more than you ever thought you’d learn about some guy you dialed on a whim three weeks ago) which is why you’re a little salty that you had to go and fall asleep in the middle of all of it.
The last question you remembered had been after a small quiet, a breath of time where your eyes had been closed and he’d been humming, contemplating what to ask next.
Your tea was finished. Your laptop had timed out a long time ago which meant your room was only being lit by the kitchen light outside, a small sliver of warm white light.
“Do you— Do you do any extracurriculars? On campus?”
“Mystery breach,” you’d mumbled belatedly, attempting and failing to blink the bleariness from your eyes. “Look at you, trying to sneak that question in there. You already got to see me first. Now you want to know where to find me on campus, too?”
Immediately he flustered, stumbling for a response like you’d somehow managed to hit the nail on the head, but in your state you didn’t think to look further into it. “I’m kidding. At this point I’d probably give you my SSN if you asked for it. I play volleyball for the school, if that counts? I was on debate club in freshman year but I got kicked out for agreeing with my opponents too much.”
A beat, like he was mulling over this information, and then, “You? Agree with someone? That’s interesting, considering how much it seems you like to argue with me...”
“You’re different,” you yawned. “Very different. Being forced to debate with people I barely know on topics I don’t care about kind of sucks. But I actually like talking to you.”
“Oh,” he said. “…Is that so?”
"Right," you laughed and closed your eyes one last time. “I would never lie to my dickpic buddy.”
.
.
.
[A LITTLE WHILE LATER]
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a/n: pls leave a like if you enjoyed! it motivates me to work on this every time i see a notification about it LOL
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shadamyheadcanons · 7 months
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It’s kinda cute to see that Bark has a canonical crush on Amy (in the newest comic if you haven’t seen). She’s such a magnet for the stoic, hardy, initially antagonistic types lol. How do you think Shadow would feel to know that Bark was crushing on Amy before anyone else?
In reference to this interaction in IDW’s recent comic for her 30th anniversary:
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It was also made apparent in Sonic’s 30th anniversary comic:
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Looks like IDW took a cue from Archie and re-canonized Amy’s tendency to get cold easily. Sonic never took the hint...
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...but it’s free real estate for other Amy ships. A+.
The bigger question is why a polar bear needs a scarf in the first place. Maybe I’m not supposed to ask that.
Anyway, I wouldn’t say it’s 100% confirmed that it’s a crush. No one ever says it is. He might just think she’s a sweet little girl. Panels like these make it seem like he just thinks she’s a nice kid, like a little sister. You could easily substitute Knuckles in for Bark here:
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Blushing is usually used to indicate a crush, but not always. It can also be used to show embarrassment. I personally think he’s just shy because he’s not used to being hugged and hearing things like this:
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It’s not surprising that Bark has a soft spot for her. He’s very strong and hangs out with Fang’s group, so a lot of people assume the worst. On top of that, he’s nonverbal, so he can’t really argue against it. She’s the only one who gives him a chance off the bat.
It’s also more appropriate if it’s not romantic, given their implied age gap. I’m glad Sega removed the official ages, but even without exact numbers, I’d be very surprised if an official Sonic publication made an older teenager have a crush on a child. If they did, I think Shadow would hunt him down, lol. I have a headcanon about him going after Storm about it, but Storm actively makes himself a problem. Bark isn’t like that.
Even if another stoic and quiet character developed a crush on Amy, though, I don’t think Shadow would be jealous. I usually imagine Shadow hiding his feelings for Amy, and this is the same situation. He doesn’t act on it. At most, I could see them exchanging a subtle nod of acknowledgement.
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They’d just both have good taste. Shadow might have to get used to it, but after that, I doubt he would see a character like that as a “problem.”
Shadow also might just flat-out appreciate Bark. It’s always a relief to have someone else who makes her safety a priority. Even when Bark and Amy “fight,” he outright refuses to hurt her:
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(In case anyone needs more evidence that blushing isn’t always romantic in this comic, Amy’s blushing right there in panel three. Something tells me she probably doesn’t see this as a romantic situation.)
And when they’re on the same team, he keeps an eye on her to make sure she doesn’t rush into danger and get out of her depth:
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I made a post recently pointing out that Shadow might have helped Amy out in Cryptic Castle because he also notices she rushes into situations she can’t handle alone. She’s a danger magnet whose first ever appearance was getting kidnapped, and it was a long time before that stopped happening. We need more characters who’ll keep an eye on her. I can imagine Shadow and Bark pointing to situations like these and looking at each other as if to say, “Ah, so you’re the reason she made it to adulthood unscathed.” They’d see each other as allies, not competition.
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